Book 2 - Chapter 9 (Patreon)
Content
The next two weeks were a blur of constant activity. Working out with Davi in the mornings seemed to lighten the big guy’s mood. The bags under his eyes disappeared and he became much more cheerful, although he still complained about the frustrating [Bard] lessons every chance he got.
About four days in he dropped his weights with a surprised look on his face, as if he’d just come to a profound realization. “I can be a [Bard] and still be strong.”
“Yeah, obviously. You’ll still be strong no matter what Class you take,” Brin responded.
Davi just shook his head like Brin didn’t get it, which maybe he didn’t.
That day he asked to join in on Brin’s spear lessons. Hogg responded by saying “No way,” and then handing Davi a stick nearly identical to Brin’s spear shaft. “A quarterstaff is the weapon for you.”
Then Davi joined right in. He moved through the spear forms with Brin, and then Hogg went through another set of forms just for him while Brin practiced a perfect thrust over and over.
The workouts with Hogg were grueling. He practiced with a black iron spear-shaft enchanted with weight to build the right muscles in the right places. After the morning weight training it pushed him right to the end of his endurance, and then past it. Brin might not have been able to use mana potions, but Hogg had a supply of stamina rejuvenators that kept him going, courtesy of poor overworked Calisto. He was also pretty sure that [Scarred, but Healing] was doing some heavy lifting repairing his sore muscles, so that they’d be ready for more punishment every day.
If that wasn’t enough, Hogg ended every lesson with a short spar and didn’t take it easy on him at all. Every single bout ended with Brin taking a new bruise or welt.
“If it doesn’t hurt you’ll stop being afraid of getting hit,” he explained.
After Davi joined in, he got a second sparring match with Davi, although only once a day. He didn’t take it easy on Davi in the slightest, but Davi had been on and off training with the quarterstaff his whole life with his dad and he flattened Brin every single time.
It wasn’t without benefits though. He earned two Dexterity, two Will, four Vitality, and two Strength from training. The incredible attribute gains were a reminder of how ahead he would be if Hogg had been in his corner from the beginning, but he had no intentions of bringing that up again.
Despite all that, the lessons with Chamylla were even worse. The Language was opaque and elusive. Every time he thought he was beginning to wrap his head around it, some new contradiction arose to blow it all to pieces. Chamylla claimed he was making progress, despite how it felt. She claimed that while his mind might never really grasp the Language, his soul was gaining familiarity with it. All he knew was that it scraped his brain raw and left him with a stinging headache, though never as bad as that first day.
He didn’t get another point in Magic from learning the Language, but he did get four points in Mental Control.
The glassblowing with Ademir was a sweet relief. Ademir’s calm, cheerful disposition, and the interesting but low-intensity work were the perfect break. Although Ademir frowned more than once at the way his exhausted arms sometimes trembled. Glass blowing was very precise work, and a single tremor could leave a wave or a bubble in otherwise perfectly flat glass.
Brin kept making bottles, and over time he started to feel certain his bottles were just as good as Ademir’s, even though he still worked about a third as quickly. The white cloudiness of the glass was still an issue, but Ademir claimed all glass was like that and Brin’s steadily upgrading [Shape Glass] would soon fix it. He had made slight success with changing the color. His bottles were more likely to turn black than blue when he tried it, but he was starting to get a hang of putting just enough mana into the bottle to make it change color but not explode into disgusting black bubbles.
He gained levels at a reasonable pace, until after fifteen days of the same routine, he made a breakthrough.
Level up! Level 9 -> 10
+2 Strength, +2 Dexterity, +2 Vitality, +2 Mental Control, +1 Will, +2 free attributes.
Congratulations! You have earned a new Skill. Please select from the following.
Upgrade - Shape Glass
Increased ability to transform glass. Increased ability to move glass. Improves mana efficiency.
Upgrade - Heat Resistance
+50% increase to heat tolerance.
Memories of Glass
You can perfectly recall anything you’ve seen or learned about glass.
“Level up?” asked Ademir.
“Yeah. It’s a big one, too. Level 10. I can take [Memories of Glass],” said Brin.
Ademir winced. “Tough luck. Best to put it on [Shape Glass] again, in that case. I doubt you ever went out of your way to learn about glass before you got the Class.”
“I think I want the memory Skill,” said Brin. His past life was full of information on every subject, and the biggest reason that he couldn’t reproduce any wonders of the modern world was because he didn’t know the specifics. This Skill could be his ticket to fixing that problem, within a narrow scope. Of course, he couldn’t exactly tell anyone that, so he’d go with the story that he wanted to remember things from Aberthol’s life. “I don’t remember much, before the injury. I think… I think this might be my chance to find out who I was. Before.”
Ademir crinkled his eyes in sympathy. “I see. I can’t argue with that, now can I?”
Brin selected [Memories of Glass]. He halfway expected them all to rush in at once in a confusing mess. They didn’t. He didn’t feel any change at all.
He tried to reach back into his memories and… there. He could remember it so clearly it was as if he was there, right there.
He was in the passenger seat of his dad’s pickup. He could still smell the cigarette smoke of the previous owner, could hear every note of the oldies station, and… his dad. He could hear his dad’s voice, clear as day. He was sitting right there, looking younger than Brin remembered him.
“...went on a tour of that building. The tour guide said that the stain-glass windows were so old that the glass was flowing because glass is a slow-moving liquid. That’s complete boloney. Glass is an elastic solid; it’s completely stable. If the glass has ripples in it, they were there when it was made.”
That was all, just that little moment, but it meant the whole world to him. Brin wiped the tears off his face with the back of his sleeve. “I think I need the rest of the day off.”
“Take all the time you need, son,” said Ademir.
Brin thanked him, but wished he hadn’t said “son” so soon after that memory.
He’d thought that after getting this Skill he’d be a flurry of activity trying to implement all of his advanced knowledge, but he hadn’t realized how it would feel. He remembered his old world perfectly. He knew the memory he wanted; he was sitting on the grass at college with a Chemistry reference book. He could see every word of the chapter on buckminsterfullerene, specifically found in the carbon structures that could be used to create the strongest glass in the world. It didn’t give a great explanation of how exactly to make it, but maybe he’d find that in another memory. It and a hundred other memories were one single thought away from returning to him in perfect detail. As exciting as the glass was, the memory of the feeling of the grass on his skin wasn’t something he was ready to experience yet. He hadn’t realized how you could miss something as simple as a mowed lawn. They had grass in the town square but it was tended to with Skills and just not the same.
It was good that he hadn’t been able to get a Class as soon as he got to this world. This scar was starting to scab over. He didn’t think he would’ve been able to handle it if he’d gotten this when it was still raw.
The System had something else for him.
You have 1 free General Skill available. Select now?
Optional Class Selection available. Please select [Yes] in the next 13 hours.
Yes. No.
He had never heard of this. Was this what Class advancements looked like? If so, he needed a serious conversation with Hogg.
He didn’t get a serious conversation. When Brin stumbled into the front door with red eyes, looking frazzled, he started telling Hogg about the notification and Hogg just cut him off.
“You should do it.”
“Huh? But I’m not ready to change my Class. Even if I get offered [Illusionist] I want to wait and get [Summon Glass] first.”
“You don’t get it. This doesn’t happen,” said Hogg. He looked back at his book, then sighed and set it down. “There’s no such thing as ‘optional’ Class selection. You either go into Class Selection or you don’t. Usually you don’t. I never did after that first time.”
“Not even when you chose [Conjurer of Hard Light]?” asked Brin.
“I didn’t choose [Conjurer of Hard Light]. I upgraded [Summon Light] and my Class evolved automatically,” said Hogg. “Some people do go into Class Selection a second time for different reasons, but I’ve never heard of Optional Class Selection. Something weird is going on, and fair chance it’s a good thing. You should check it out.”
“Like what? What could it be?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up. Better hear what they have to say. Go on.”
Was it too much to hope that somehow he’d unlocked an even better Class than [Illusionist]? He had an epic Skill. Maybe he’d get an epic Class.
He walked to his room, lay down on the bed, and mentally selected ‘Yes’.
He woke up in his living room. The living room of his apartment back in his old life. It was exactly as he’d left it, and exactly as it’d been in his old life. He wasted no time in rushing to grab a soda from the fridge, an Orange Cream. Sancta Solia how he’d missed being able to shock his body with a sugar overload any time he felt like it.
The Child was already there, at his computer. “It’s not an epic Class.”
Brin sighed. “It was too much to hope, I guess. Already plugged in, I see?”
“After what happened last time, I’m not taking any chances. Besides, you aren’t going to pick me. Actually, you can’t pick me. I can only be taken at level 1, so you’d have to break an Oath,” said the Child. He was dressed in nothing but a towel over his waist and one of those paper wrist-bands that let you get back into the water park if you have to leave for whatever reason. A large step up from his lederhosen outfit last time.
“I wasn’t planning on picking you. I actually wasn’t planning on changing my Class. If there isn’t anything good, then why am I here?”
“Well, you have some new Class options. The System is pretty liberal with letting people with Common Classes make lateral moves. Don’t like being a [Glasser]? Why not try [Leatherworker], [Trapper], or [Launderer].”
“What? I do like being a [Glasser],” said Brin.
“I feel like you aren’t hearing me,” said the Child.
Brin sipped his juice. “Those three Classes. Those are the Classes of my next three suspects for [Witch].”
The Child pointed a finger gun at him, still not turning away from the computer screen.
“You guys… you pulled me in here to help me with the [Witch] investigation,” said Brin.
“What? No way. We just really want you to consider a career in laundry,” said the Child.
“Is this even allowed?” asked Brin.
“How do you expect me to answer that?” said the Child.
“It’s not. You’re pulling a fast one on the System,” said Brin.
The Child shrugged. “I’m you, so technically you’re doing this.”
The front door opened, and the Scarred One rushed through. Exactly like the last time, he rushed to check behind each of the doors and peek through the windows, moving constantly with an almost manic energy.
The Scarred One still looked like Brin would in his twenties except with a lot more scars, although not by as wide a margin as the last time they met.
“You’re still here? I thought if I dropped your Class you wouldn’t be an option anymore.”
The Scarred One dropped the blinds he was peeking under. “It’s true, I’m locked forever. But I’m not gone. I’m still a part of you, you know?”
“I’m sorry about–”
The Scarred One flung himself around and dashed over, only to place a hand on Brin’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. I’m proud of you. You did exactly what you wanted to do, and damn the consequences. That’s all I ever asked! And like I said, I’m not gone. I’ll always be a part of you.”
“Th-thanks,” said Brin.
The Scarred One jolted around again as the door opened. The Illusionist came in next, in a sharp business suit from Earth. The Glasser was right behind him, in Hammon’s Bog farmer clothes.
The Glasser was the oldest, looking to be in his forties, and while he’d been cheerful at their last meeting, he looked a little glum this time. He walked over to the couch and slumped down, not even bothering to get a soda or turn the tv on.
“Why so down?” asked Brin.
“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m being used,” said the Glasser.
“Hey, stow it. You can bring this up next time. We agreed we wouldn’t have this argument now,” said the Illusionist. He stood near the door with his shoulders crossed.
Brin went to the fridge and grabbed a root beer, then tossed it to the Glasser, who snatched it out of the air with a reluctant nod of gratitude.
Brin said, “Sorry about that. You really did make a good case last time, it’s just that–”
“No, no. The Illusionist is right. You aren’t going to change your Class now, so we can talk about this later. We should focus on your Class change when you’re actually ready to switch.” The Glasser popped the cap and took a swig of his soda. “Good stuff. So this is how it’s going to work. Rather than waste mental energy dreaming up new versions of you for every single Class, I’m going to represent all the Common Classes. I can tell you almost anything about Common Classes, so as to help you make your decision.” He winked.
“Wait, like what?” asked Brin. “You guys are me, right? So you don’t really know anything I don’t know already.”
The Illusionist shook his head. “We’re System constructs that use your personality as a template to give you a comfortable interface to System information. I’m you, as an Illusionist, which is why I know more about my Class. I know about other Classes, too. Enough to help you make your decision.”
“You need to be thinking about [Filial Piety]!” said the Scarred One with an accusing finger.
“What?”
“He’s right,” said the Glasser. “[Filial Piety] is your second best Skill, and you’ve basically ignored it. It protects against Mental Manipulation and Soul Manipulation. Do you even know what those are? Have you asked Hogg about them?”
“Hogg knows I have it,” Brin protested. He’d given Hogg the completely rundown of all his abilities.
“Forget Hogg! Do you know what it does? Do you know what it feels like when it’s working? Can it be trained or upgraded?" The Scarred One punctuated each question with a poke to Brin’s chest. “A newbie level one [Witch] fooled observant paranoid Hogg into thinking she was an [Herbalist]. She either made him forget he hadn’t used [Inspect] on her or spoofed the results somehow. What are the chances that a [Witch] wouldn’t be able to do even worse to you?”
Brin gulped. “I’ll get on that.”
“See that you do,” the Scarred One said with a scowl, and turned away again, back to peer out the windows.
Brin cleared his throat. “Well, then, let’s start with Perris I guess.”
The Glasser shook his head.
“I mean, I suddenly feel like [Leatherworker] is my calling. What can you tell me about the Class?”
The Glasser nodded. “The base Skill is [Create Leather]. It focuses on the process of turning hide into leather. It improves cleaning, dyeing, tanning, and finishing, although there's a Class for each of those if you want to specialize further. At higher levels it can do all that without any gross or dangerous chemicals, and it can make the leather tougher and more durable. It can even imbue the leather with magical properties; Chamylla called that System Enchantment.”
“This is all interesting, but it’s not really telling me what I need to know–I mean, it’s not helping me decide if I want this Class,” said Brin.
“Ok, so here’s the clincher: [Create Leather] does all that, but it isn’t [Shape Leather] like your [Shape Glass]. You’ll need further Skills if you want to repair leather, expand or shrink it, stuff like that. And there are no Skills for telepathically moving leather like you’ll be able to do with Glass.”
“Oh,” said Brin. “So if, hypothetically, I saw someone moving leather with magic, that would be a good sign that that person is a [Witch],” said Brin.
“Correct,” said the Glasser.
He’d never seen Perris do that, but he’d never really seen Perris do much with the [Leatherworker] Class. He mostly tended his store. He’d have to find a way to watch Perris working with leather. Preferably without Perris knowing he was there.
The Glasser raised his eyebrows, indicating that Brin should continue.
Brin asked, “Are there any other Classes with that restriction? That they can never use magic to move things telekinetically.”
“Well, it’s common knowledge which ones do and don’t. You could ask around about any specifically if you’re unsure. Off the top of my head? [Lumberjack], [Carpenter], [Baker], [Smith], [Tinker], [Farmer], [Mason], [Cellarman], [Digger]... [Digger] is an interesting Class, by the way, and one that you could choose if you want.”
“[Digger],” Brin mused. “Hammon’s Bog has a [Digger]. I’m not sure what he does, but I’ve heard people talking about him.”
“They call him lazy behind his back. Everyone needs him for something, but they all seem like he should work for free and are always peeved when he can’t get to them in time. Seems like an… under-appreciated type person.”
Underappreciated type people were [Witch]-type people. “Tell me about the Class.”
“As you can expect, the base Skill is [Dig]. Lets you dig faster and better. There are some Skills to help prevent cave-ins and the like, and a fascinating amount of combat-Skills. A [Digger] is a [Warrior] underground. Useful, I guess, for when you uncover something evil. It must be something that happens a lot, because the Class is practically built around it.”
“Any big drawbacks?”
“Extreme weakness above ground. Other Classes can be creative with applications to their abilities as long as they’re using the tools of their trades. [Lumberjack] can use all his ax-Skills in combat, it just has to be with an ax. [Digger] has no help with anything above ground, even if he’s carrying a shovel.”
“Anything else?” asked Brin.
“If you’d earned it earlier, it probably would’ve shown up with an avatar last time. It’s actually a very interesting Class with a lot of potential,” said the Glasser. “Seems weird that he’s not respected.”
“Alright. Next up is [Laundress],” said Brin.
“You mean [Launderer]?” asked the Glasser. “Base skill is [Wash]. Bonuses to this and that. Some chemistry Skills, which is surprising. She can move clothes with her magic, so that’s not a tell. I think… you should watch for the familiar. There’s no way she wouldn’t have a special set of clothes as her familiar! Just think about what she could do– er. By she, I mean you, like if you were hypothetically going to take this Class and then become a [Witch]... or something.”
“Nice save,” said the Scarred One.
“Sorry! I forgot for a second. But no-one struck us with lightning, so it might be fine to drop the pretense?” The Glasser winced as if expecting to be struck down. The Scarred one snickered and the Illusionist rolled his eyes, but nothing else happens. “If she is a [Witch], you’ll need to be careful. Just wearing dirty clothes around her might be seen as a breach of hospitality, because she would’ve cleaned them if you asked. You’ve got to watch out for Class-specific things like that.”
“That’s insane. Anything I do might be a breach of some [Witch’s] hospitality, then,” said Brin.
“The way to fight a [Witch] is with another [Witch],” said the Illusionist. “If Hogg is right and most of the [Witches] are on your side, then you’ll probably be able to expect some degree of protection from them. Bruna seems to like you. Although not as well as you like her…”
Brin threw a couch pillow at him. “Come on! You guys are literally inside my head. You know that was just a ploy. She’s like, fifty. Gray haired, and lanky. She’s taller than me, too.”
“The heart wants what it wants,” said the Glasser.
A hand thumped on his shoulder. “You know that I’ll always stand by your desires. Your weird, strange, inscrutable desires,” said the Scarred One.
Brin shoved the hand off his shoulder, scowling, which made the three other hims crack up.
“Alright, alright,” said Brin. “What about Elvira the [Trapper]? She also voted that Tawna did nothing wrong.”
“And her name is Elvira. Kind of a red flag, right?” said the Scarred One.
Brin rubbed his temples. “It doesn’t sound like ‘evil’ in Frenarian.”
“Well, the short answer is that if Elvira is a [Witch] and she's evil, then you’re screwed,” said the Glasser. “[Trapper] is very powerful for a Common Class. It’s the one new Class that I might actually advise you to consider taking.”
“Wait. We’re actually going to try to sell him on other Classes for real?” said the Scarred One. “Because I have two words for you: Pre. Undead.”
“No,” said Brin.
“Just hear me out.”