And so we continued walking, me draining her when she announced her mana was full, and then siphoning off my surplus mana. I could keep Ether up while casting other spells, and so maintaining it constantly was a no-brainer. The slight definition loss it gave my vision wasn’t too much of a problem. My Concentration skill just kept climbing, and now that I was using it consistently, so did Static Casting. The skill levels noted in the UI seemed to be trying to catch up to my actual skill level, gained during calibration, and so they continued advancing unnaturally fast, for all the good that did me.
Every minute and twelve seconds the routine repeated, and we observed a strict silence during the process to ensure no interruptions. Outside of that, we took the time to get to know each other.
Introductions were an interesting experience. Both of us knew that we had given up another life to acquire this one, and so neither of us were too intent on sharing the details. Instead, we stuck to broad generalities. Age—Mac was 27—general family structure, interests, and hobbies. Mainly we discussed our past lives in video games. Mac had played a lot more than I had, and she’d certainly spent more time in MMORPGs. She had raided end-game content in multiple games, VR titles included, and had been part of guild leadership for multiple guilds. With her confident and easygoing style, I was pretty well in awe of her before long.
Compared to her, I was a bumbling idiot. Everything out of my mouth sounded so childish, so… insignificant. I spent long minutes thinking up the right things to say to her—the right questions to ask—just to be embarrassed as soon as they left my mouth. She took my bumbling in stride, and helped ease me through conversations. She wasn’t shy, of course, about setting me straight on this point or that, but she certainly wasn’t cruel.
I discovered that she had put the last point of her build into Charisma, which would allow her to be more influential interpersonally. For a moment I considered whether that was why I was garnering such a high opinion of her, but knew it couldn’t be the case. It helped ease my concerns when I read in the description that Wisdom was a counterpoint to Charisma. Higher Wisdom enabled players to see the effects Charisma might be having on them, and to resist those effects. An hour later, when my Intellect and Wisdom both leveled, and my estimation of the effects of her Charisma didn’t waver, I figured that it was purely her personality—and mine.
During lulls in the conversation, I casually crunched the numbers it had taken me to level. 20 MP for the second point, then just over 80 for the third. It was the not-quite-250 for the fourth point that made me realize things weren’t scaling geometrically. No exponents fit either—not easily at least—but the numbers were too tantalizingly round, and the pattern so close to being clear.
A few minutes more brought a surprise bump to my Ether spell. I was ecstatic as I reread the description.
…
Effect: +1 to Mana Regeneration per Intellect
...
That took my Mana Regen from 6 per minute up to 8 all by itself! When I mentioned it to Mac she only grunted enviously.
It was another hour before I leveled again, which brought my Wisdom to 5 and even with Mac’s. If the scaling continued along its current trajectory, each successive point gained purely by mana use and regeneration would be harder to get, though the changes to Ether would offset that a bit. As an added bonus, the calculations would be dizzying. I continuously resolved to stop trying to gauge when I would level, but whenever there was a break in the conversation, my brain would latch back onto the increasingly intractable calculations and have at them.
The fourth points of Int and Wis had taken 640 MP, almost exactly. It was clearly a factor of ten, so I set the tens aside altogether, leaving only 2, 8, 24, and 64 to consider. Mac looked on, amused, as I paused to sketch numbers into the dirt of the path.
“Is there really a point to all this number crunching?” she asked. “I mean, we’re going to level anyway…”
“I’m so close, just let me… there! Look at all those two’s.” I had factored each of the numbers.
“And?”
“Well, every number has more two’s. That smells like an exponent. If you take out the two’s equal to the level number…”
Mac finally looked interested. “You get the level number,” she concluded.
“Exactly! That means the mana it’s taking to level is the level number times 2 raised to the level number.”
“And?” Mac repeated.
I considered the question. “Well, now we can figure out when we’ll level.”
“And what will that change?”
I considered again, longer this time. “Well… nothing,” I admitted. I couldn’t leave the numbers alone though.
Despite her previous admonishment, I couldn’t help feeling guilty at how much success I was having compared to Mac. True, I had just reached her level Wisdom-wise, but I was reasonably sure I would reach 6 points half an hour before she would.
So, when we stopped by a stream mid-morning in order to rest, have a drink, and wash up a bit, I took the opportunity to ask Mac whether I could examine her broken wand again. She paused her ablutions and tossed it to me with a curse. For the first time, I looked at the sundered thing beyond its description. It had once consisted of a thick branch with three tapered twigs at the far end, each holding a smattering of small, spade-shaped leaves. Now the leaves were wilted, and the twigs sagged.
With Ether active, I held each piece away from me and examined them. The branch portion glowed brightly, swirling with densely packed mana. I could feel the life in it. The leafy portion barely looked any different from the ubiquitous background mana around us. The mana inside moved sluggishly and without direction. Experimentally, I pressed the two ends together and glanced at my mana bar, noting that nothing had changed. Bringing the shattered junction close, I could clearly see the problem. The mana in the branch portion flowed steadily toward the separated leafy portion, but was frustrated upon hitting the break, swirling away to become part of another flow further down the branch. The flow had been severed when the wand had.
Swiftly, I reread the description of Flow. It didn’t seem like it could help yet. The wand’s Quality was Good and my low-rank Flow spell wouldn’t be able to touch it. It didn’t seem right though. The mana was obviously already flowing, only it was blocked. It just needed to be linked back together.
The beauty of a two-tool toolbox is that it doesn’t take a long time to find a tool, if you have it. I held the two halves of the wand together in front of me and focused on the break, casting Flow to create a tiny channel between the two pieces. Astonishingly, my Mana Capacity jumped to 60 for an instant, before falling back to 50. It jittered between the two numbers as I adjusted the pieces for a tighter fit.
“Hey, Mac?” I asked. “Can I see that dagger again?”
“Knock yourself out. I’m going to use the lady’s room.” She handed me the dagger and moved away through the woods.
Hoping to surprise her once she got back, I quickly cut the rest of the way around my tunic, resulting in a nearly two-foot-long strip. I dismissed Ether so I could do the close work of edging the pieces of wand together without distraction, straightening a splinter here and shifting the fit there. Once satisfied, I bound the branch ends together tightly with the strip of cloth. I swished the wand through the air for effect, and then reactivated Ether. Nothing had changed with the wand, but by casting Flow I could now consistently get a solid connection between the halves. The wand was whole again, if only for seconds at a time. Next, I’d have to try and find some way to make the flow stick.
I looked around to see where Mac had gone, but she must not have finished with her business in the woods yet. I waved the wand around a few more times, feeling pretty tough with my little stick, but really it was useless to me. In order to have access to the increased mana pool I would have to cast Flow, spending 1 mana per second. Since my regen was orders of magnitude slower, all that would do was drain it all. So, I let my mana fill back
up, and I waited.
Finally, I heard Mac’s voice approaching, but not everything was okay. Her continuous “Oh shit. Oooh shit,” wavered and wobbled as she raced across the uneven landscape. Picking up the dagger and the wand, I searched for the threat; as best I could tell she was just sprinting, pell-mell, for fun. Then, with a squeal and a snort, her pursuer burst out from the underbrush, racing after her with incredible speed. Its hooves were a blur. Focusing, I managed to see its stats.
Wild Boar — Level 3
Hit Points: 16/16
Level 3?! We could stab it, but Mac had been right about the dagger. We might get 3 Damage out of it per pop, if the item info was to be believed. Plus, those tusks were easily as long as our dagger anyway. I tried to cast Flow to incapacitate it, but nothing happened. The boar’s Int must have been too high. Mac was almost on top of me, and the boar was almost on top of her! Whelp, two-tool toolbox...
“Mac, catch!” I shouted, tossing the wand to her before jumping to the side.
She caught the wand and stared at it, incredulous, legs still pumping furiously.
“Zen, what the fuck?!” she cried, still sprinting.
“Find something to burn!” I yelled, and hurled a rock at the boar before waving my arms and shouting to try and pull its attention from Mac. Luckily, the elf found a low enough branch and lunged for it, kicking her legs up and away from the frothing animal.
Deprived of its initial target, the boar spun toward me, its hooves digging furrows into the forest floor as it squealed its outrage.
“Now, Mac! Fire!” I’d used Flow to activate the wand even as she reached the tree, and then a second Flow to simultaneously provide her mana. My own mana plummeted.
As the boar closed on me, my connection to the spells fled, and I jumped aside to avoid the tusks again. The boar was more maneuverable than I was though, and a tusk scored my shin as a hundred pounds of pig barreled into my legs, bowling me over. I lashed out with the dagger even as sharp hooves knocked the breath out of me. I struggled to keep the boar from reaching my face, which only seemed to cause the hooves to dig more deeply into my chest and gut.
Then there was a shower of sparks, and I yelped as I was peppered with stinging embers. The boar was off me though, and I rolled back to my feet, swiping blindly with the dagger. Mac had planted herself between the boar and me, and was fiercely swinging a large branch full of burning leaves.
“You did it!” I congratulated her.
“Yeah, I did it,” she conceded, focused on the boar. “But what are we going to do about Miss Piggy here?” The flaming branch was holding the boar at bay, but hadn’t routed it like I’d hoped. It darted left and right, trying to circumvent the fire, but Mac had so far succeeded in keeping the branch between us and it.
“Well, we have the dagger," I suggested.
Mac scoffed. “How many times would you have to stab it? Seven?”
We had wasted our chance though, and dried leaves don’t burn long. With a triumphant squeal, the boar pushed its way past the swinging branch and threw itself at Mac. Rather than allow the boar to knock her down, Mac jumped forward onto the angry squealer’s back, grabbing for its legs. With Mac so close, it suddenly became clear that the boar wasn’t actually that large. Maybe two feet tall at the shoulders, its ferocity had made it seem larger than it was.
Mac was ready to match its ferocity tit for tat though, and she and the boar fell hard to the side.
“Now, Zen!” she cried. “The heart!”
Without any time to feel queasy, I jumped forward, driving the blade straight into the center of the boar’s exposed chest. The blade stopped with a thunk that shuddered through my arm. I’d struck a thick plate of bone.
“Again! Higher up this time!” Mac commanded, trying to avoid the black-bristled head that reared and snapped, attempting to shed her.
I complied, awkwardly driving the blade in closer to the flailing front leg, but once again hitting bone. Not waiting for Mac’s command, I tried a third time, aiming right behind the joint of the front leg. The small blade sank up to the hilt, and I struck again, and again.
Chapter 7
Mac lifted her face out of the leaf litter, a little dazed. A skim of slime graced one cheek, and a twig had embedded itself in her forehead. I’d ended up on my back, with the dagger dropped beside me in relief. I propped myself up. “Surprise, I fixed your wand!” I croaked. Mac gave a dry laugh and pulled herself up onto her elbows, crowned by a halo of leaves and muck arranged throughout her hair.
“There’s a reason I wanted to be a caster, you know,” she proclaimed, addressing the dead boar between us. “We don’t have to deal with as much…” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and looked at the result in disgust. “...effluvia.”
She cleaned her hand on the pelt of the boar before pushing up to her feet and gathering the wand, which she had thrown down in order to effectively swing the burning branch. “Wait a second,” she said, “this doesn’t look fixed. How did it...”
I looked up from dusting off detritus and cast Flow. “How about now?” I asked, expectantly.
“Ha!” she cried, unbelieving. “You did it!”
Pulling myself to my feet, I looked at the boar. Mac came to stand beside me, staring down at our conquest and combing debris out of her hair.
“Sooo... lunch?” she proposed.
In the excitement of entering the game, I had completely forgotten my belly, and now it reminded me of its presence with a vengeance. “Yes, please! Uhh...” I focused on the pig, but was unable to bring up more than a simple Character Sheet. Mac came to stand beside me and did the same, with the same result. No loot list. Normally, in this type of game, enemies would drop loot for players to pick up, but we found nothing of the sort.
“Well, I guess we have this dagger,” she announced, holding it up suggestively.
“Oh cripes," I muttered.
“Cripes?!” she scoffed. “Come on naw, don’t be a fuddy-duddy.” She knelt by the still-smoking carcass and brandished the knife. “We can figure this out. I will eat this fucking pig the way it tried to eat me. But like a lady.” She grinned.
“All I know about butchering is that you’re supposed to avoid the uh… poop sack.” That earned me another mocking side-eye.
“Okay, but do we really need to gut it?” she asked. “Can’t we just pull the skin off and take pieces? After all, what are we going to do with a fully-gutted pig?” I acquiesced, and she got to work slicing the skin off the haunches.
There was far more blood than I’d anticipated, being accustomed to supermarket cuts of meat. Still, I gritted my teeth and helped Mac slice off several thick slabs of muscle. This was going to be my life now, after all. I’d better get used to it. On the plus side, we both acquired a Butchering skill, though at Level 1 it provided little benefit.
At last we had our array of meaty morsels, all arranged on a relatively clean fallen trunk.
“So, our options for cooking this,” she deliberated, “are starting a fire and going from there, or doing it all with magic.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off. “Yeah, we don’t have enough mana for that. Old fashioned it is.”
We gathered the makings for the fire. That part was easy. I hadn’t been a hunter, but I had been a Boy Scout. Once the wood was arranged, we got down to the business of lighting it. Mac was going to cast Fire.
Like me, Mac was intent on forcing herself to learn to cast without words or gestures. The theatrics would do for later. Of course, this would have the added benefit of allowing her to keep the wand still while she cast. I wasn’t sure if I could maintain the channel with her waving it around. She knelt by the stacked wood and kindling and pointed her wand at the base. I set up the channel for her wand, and then established a flow between us, pushing her 5 mana, then 10.
I had only about 40 mana to spare as I waited for her to discover the right way to hold her mind. She’d need to figure it out quickly, so I made sure to walk her th
rough all the steps. The envisioning, the target, the limen, the words, and the gestures. In the end, she still found it necessary to mouth the words, but it only took her about twenty seconds. She squawked indignantly.
“It’s telling me I don’t have the required Class Skill!” she complained. “Damn it, Zen, you fucking hacker! How do I get a class?”
I could only shrug. “Hey, at least you have a damage spell,” I reminded her, “and a wand now!”
“I guess so,” she agreed. “It looks cooler without Static Casting anyway. Check this out!”
Where my hands had trailed a nearly invisible mist, Mac’s wreathed themselves in fire. Flames licked up from her eyes and mouth, making her look positively demonic. She was right. It was cooler.
A small spurt of fire bloomed at the end of the wand, easily catching the kindling ablaze.
Her eyes widened. “Plus one Int!” she exclaimed, hands out in disbelief. “Plus one Int! I can cast my own fucking spells!!!” And with that, she turned and hurled the wand into the fire. I raised my hand to stop her, but let it drop back to my side without comment. I supposed it really was more of a hindrance than a help, and obviously she had complicated feelings about the thing. I couldn’t help but feel the loss of my repair job though. And the strip of cloth I had used to bind it. Geez, I really had nothing to my name if my most prized possession was a hair tie.
She’d seen my outstretched hand too late and now looked chagrined. “Sorry about that.”
I congratulated her regardless, and she gave me a grateful smile, then stood and brushed the dirt from her knees. I worked to build the fire as she searched out a straight stick on which to skewer the chunks of pork. By the time the fire had burned down enough, we had fashioned a working spit. Now we just had to wait for our meal to cook.
The meat acquired a heavy layer of char before a slice to the inside revealed it was done. On the plus side though, we gained a Cooking skill. Now we were both stealthy, cooking, butchers: a dream come true.
Auger & Augment Page 6
