“We didn’t have skills. Not as you know them, anyway. We got better at things by years of practice, and trying to learn new things.”
“Like unlocking generic skills?” Celia still looked unconvinced. This was a lot to swallow.
“Sort of, only without the words appearing to tell you you’d gotten better at something.” The old man snorted. “I was a wizard’s apprentice, back then. I’d spent years learning the basics, and my biggest trick was animating a rope. I could do that once per day.... Twice a day if I didn’t memorize detect magic, and double-stocked animate rope spells.”
“What?”
“Things were very different back then. We had spell slots, and a thing called thaco, and don’t ask me to explain those. Anyway, it took years to get good at things. Decades, even, for some complex skills. I suppose it still does, now, if you take it slowly and avoid danger.”
Celia shifted, hugging Threadbare tight. “So what about level ups?”
“They weren’t called that. I think... I think what happened was that the numbers still appeared, but nobody could see them. You had to guess what you had, if you cared about that at all. Most of us didn’t, we were too busy living our lives.”
“So what happened to make everything change? How’d we get to level ups and jobs and stuff?”
“Nobody knows.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. One day, the words started appearing, and everyone found out that they had status screens. And qualified for various jobs.”
“Awesome!”
“No, actually.” The old man looked at her with solemnity. “It was utter chaos.”
“What? Why?”
“Think about it. We’d gone for years without knowing exactly how smart, or how strong, or what our limits were. Then, in a heartbeat, all that knowledge of ourselves was at our fingertips. In fact, we couldn’t get away from it! You’d be right in the middle of kissing your girlfriend, and CHA +1 would float up out of nowhere!”
Celia’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what?” The lesson had gotten even more interesting. “Tell me more about how kissing levels charisma.”
The old man flushed, as he realized his mistake. “Ah. Uh, later. Much later. Anyway, nevermind that. The thing was, once we started figuring things out, and looking around, as the months went by we found out it just wasn’t us, here in the Cylvanian Valley. It was Baramor to the west, and Mighty Hallas to the north, and the Cane Confederation to the south, and pretty soon we realized that it was everywhere. Everywhere was like this. Still is, probably.”
“Why do you say it’s probably like this?”
The old man sighed. “It’s not a very nice subject. Which I suppose is why I’ve avoided talking with you about it. But... cards on the table, as it were.” His chalk scratched the slate. “Those early years, we thought the words, the jobs, we thought they were a blessing. Even when monsters grew in numbers and the first dungeons formed, we took it all with a sense of adventure. We even had seven heroes, that swore to protect Cylvania. Seven brave souls, that deserved better than they got.” He stared off into the distance, watching the wind over the trees. “Much better.”
Celia bit her lip. “I don’t understand.”
The old man shook his head. “I’m woolgathering. But essentially, it turned to chaos. Jobs only go to level twenty-five, that we found out in the first few years. But the monsters kept getting tougher and tougher. Soon we were losing the smaller settlements. Then we were fighting to keep the larger ones. And it never ended, more monsters came in from outside, drifting in from the bigger countries, where more people were around to kill them more easily. We didn’t have enough people to manage them, and for a while it was pretty ugly.” The old man took a breath. “But even that, we could have lived with. In the end, as it always is, the biggest threat to our little kingdom came from other men.”
“Worse than monsters?”
“Oh yes. Monsters just want simple things, like to eat you, or take your treasure, or to act as their nature tells them to. Men? Men want to rule you. To change you, until you’re what they want you to be, rather than what you want to be.”
“So what happened?”
“You remember how I told you once, that jobs can’t go beyond level twenty-five?”
“Yeah.”
“Well that’s not exactly true. And in one land, they figured out a way around it faster than anyone else did. So we knew the time had come for drastic action—”
Celia blinked. Then she whipped her head around, and stood, as a figure broke the treeline at the side of the house. “Oh! It’s Mister Mordecai! Hi hi hi!” She waved, lessons forgotten, as the brown-coated figure waved back.
“Ah! Is it that time already?” The old man smiled, and put the slate down. “We cleaned the basement just in time, then, I’d hate to have him subjected to that smell. Come on, let’s go meet him.”
They got inside just as their visitor rapped at the door. Celia ran ahead and answered it, squealing with joy. Threadbare watched from under one arm. He hadn’t understood a word of that lesson earlier, but this seemed interesting.
Leaning against the door frame, clad in a hunter’s brown leather coat that had seen much wear, collar turned up against the cool winds off the mountain, and a brown, floppy-brimmed hat over his bald head, was a man not much younger than Threadbare’s creator. He was whip-thin, with a face rounded by nature rather than good eating, and the only hair on his face was a stubbly brush that parted to reveal missing teeth as he reached down and lifted Celia up by the armpits. “Garrr! What’ve we got here, then?”
Celia laughed. Threadbare held onto her arm for dear life as she flailed in the newcomer’s grip. “Put me down! Hee hee! I’m not a little girl any more! Ha ha ha!”
“Whew! Truth in that, you’re getting big little Celia!” Mordecai knelt and deposited her on the floor. “Ere we go. Big hug?”
“Big hug!” Celia embraced him. Threadbare found himself shoved up against the man’s neck. Curious, he followed his instincts and sniffed at his hat.
Your Scents and Sensibility skill is now Level 3!
PER +1
Oh, right, that was a thing he could do. The teddy bear compared the scents to those he’d sniffed around the house. Some similarities, but more differences. He rather thought he knew what all this huge two-legged scents had in common, though. And even though he didn’t know what humans were, he was starting to figure out that he could smell something and tell if it was human or not.
INT +1
“Mordecai.” The old man nodded.
“Caradon.” The newcomer gave the old man a sober look, over Celia’s shoulder. “Run silent.”
“Run deep,” Caradon replied, and gave the woods a cursory glance, before shutting the door. “Did you bring the usual supplies?”
“That and news.”
“News?” Celia pulled back from him. “What’s happened? Is it something with Taylor’s Delve?”
“Er... big picture stuff. Borin’ stuff. I’ll tell yer Daddy later. Want to help me bring the supplies in?”
“Sure!” Celia trekked outside, next to Mister Mordecai, who listened somberly, nodding as she burst out with a week’s worth of words, telling him all about Threadbare and how Pulsivar had gone crazy twice, and how she’d seen her first cardinal redbird a few days ago, and how they’d had to clean up the cellar. Mordecai spent a lot of time nodding, and Threadbare was glad to see that the newcomer’s technique for listening to Celia matched the one that the teddy bear had figured out. Lots of nodding, and she was happy.
They reached four stuffed packs at the treeline, and Celia went for the smallest one, grunting as she tried to heft it. Threadbare slipped free of her grasp and tried to help her...
...but holy heck, was it heavy. The little girl staggered back toward the house, grunting and sweating. Threadbare was nearly crushed several times, but managed to take the weight off of her now and then.
STR +1
“Ho
w do you get these up here?” Celia whined.
“Told ya before, Scout’s a good job. Got skills ta help with that.”
“I want to learn that.”
“You always say that. An’ what do I always say back?’
“Not... without... Daddy’s... permission...” She made a farting noise with her mouth.
“Ayep.”
The rest of the trip was silent. Mordecai went ahead, walking with the three, heavier packs slung over his shoulder like they had no weight at all. Celia and Threadbare finally caught up, to find Mordecai and Caradon talking in low, solemn voices. Threadbare caught a bit of it, just before he and Celia staggered through the door.
PER +1
“...don’t think he’ll look out this far right away, but you best watch yourself. Had a few people askin’ about where all them toys are going—” Caradon cleared his throat, and Mordecai glanced over his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck as Celia stared at them, curiosity writ large on her face.
“Celia?” Caradon spoke, tousling her hair. “I’ve got some catching up to do with Mister Mordecai. Why don’t you go play outside?”
“Can I go down to the river?”
Caradon looked to Mordecai. Mordecai nodded. “River’s clear. Ent much rain. Worst of the snowmelt’s down from the mountains. No sign a’ monsters.”
“All right, but stay to this bank of the river,” Caradon told her. “Give us about half an hour.”
“Okay! Okay okay. Come on, Threadbare!” She gathered up the little bear, then ran up, and came back down with an armload of stuffed toys. “Bye, Daddy!”
Celia jogged down to the treeline, went a bit further down the hill, to where the pines stood in the loamy soil, and glanced back at the house. “There we go. Out of sight.” She knelt down and put Threadbare and the other toys on the soft cushion of pine needles, and leaned in close. “Did you know something, Threadbare?”
Threadbare nodded his head.
“Well you don’t know this. If you go down to the river and keep going west, then circle around on the sycamore’s bluff, you can get right up to the other side of the house. And you can hear what they’re talking about, without them knowing!”
Threadbare nodded.
“That’s our quest! We’re gonna go figure out what’s got Mister Mordecai so worried! I mean, I’m not gonna give you any of my experience for it, but that’s our job. Are you with me, Threadbare?”
The little golem nodded once more, and Celia clapped her hands in glee, before turning around and animating the rest of her toys.
And from a low pine tree, its black scales blending into the hollows between the needle-filled branches, an impish face smiled at the opportunity presented. A short, stealthy flight, a quick hop over the river, and a woman’s arm rose to meet him, as he settled onto her wrist, and met her icy blue stare.
“Well?”
“The girl’s playing outside.”
“Finally!” The woman shook her head, staring up at the little house, just visible through the trees. “Can you run distraction without revealing yourself?”
“Maybe. Mordecai’s no slouch. I can barely sneak by him when I’m invisible.”
“Get as close as you can, and prepare yourself. We’ll only have one shot at this, and I don’t want to meet the master empty-handed when he arrives...”
Meanwhile, across the river, Celia was gloriously unaware of the strangers plotting their approach.
Celia stared at the blade in her hand, then back to Threadbare. Her face grew solemn. “I’m afraid you don’t make the cut, Mister Bare.”
Then she giggled, and tossed the little dagger high up in the air. “Animus Blade!”
The knife fell toward the ground... but it slowed as it did so, stopping at mid-height to Cecilia. It turned over a few times, then settled into an upright guard stance.
“That’s one of the spells I learned when I got to level five,” Celia told Threadbare, grinning. “Neat, huh? It acts like there’s somebody holding it.” She patted the little bear’s head.
Threadbare nodded, watching the dagger move. It swung around Celia as she moved back and forth, inspecting her toys. There were five of them, now. The usual tea party guests plus a wooden skeleton string puppet, and a stuffed knight, with knitted wool for chainmail.
“I’m sorry I’m not inviting you into my party Threadbare, I don’t have any of daddy’s scrolls. But I guess it doesn’t matter since golems don’t get experience. And my buff doesn’t work on you. It works on them, because I animated them, but not you.”
Threadbare nodded. He really didn’t understand what she was talking about, but it seemed to satisfy her.
“Here we go... Form Party! Invite Beanarella! Invite Dracosnack! Invite Loopy! Invite Sir Dashing! Invite Morty! Invite Dagger Underscore One!”
The toys perked up, and fell into lockstep beside her. The dagger shuddered, slashed the air several times, and resumed its orbit around the little girl. Somehow he could tell it had more confidence to it.
Seeing what the toys were doing, Threadbare fell into line behind them. That was what she wanted? Maybe?
Celia giggled. “Okay. For’ard Marsh!”
The little group set off down the well-worn path through the pines, heading down the hill. Soon the trees thinned, and the sound of trickling water filled the forest air. Trickling water, then something more.
Celia stopped as pine cones crunched in the distance, and glanced down to Threadbare. “Hold still, okay? We uh, we might have to run quick if I’m wrong about this.”
There, at the base of the treeline where the hill met the riverbank, moved a patchwork figure in loose brown leathers, furs, and clothes. Haphazard cloth covered it from head to toe, and its lumpy head was entirely covered by a brown sack with holes cut in it. Straw poked out of one hole, and from holes in its mismatched gloves, thorny vines twitched and coiled.
“Hello Raggedy Man!” Celia waved. The Raggedy Man gave her a long look, then surveyed the party. Its gaze stopped, when it looked down at Threadbare.
Threadbare looked back. He did what he’d saw Celia do, when someone approached her from the woods, and waved.
“Uh-oh,” Celia whispered, as the Raggedy Man tottered three steps closer. It swayed straight-backed, as things under its coat rippled and writhed.
But then, it simply turned and walked back to the treeline, resuming its patrol.
“Daddy made them. The Raggedy Men keep monsters and bad people out,” Celia explained as she scooped up Threadbare. “I didn’t know if he’d think you were an intruder, like Emmett did. I think it goes by how big things are. I mean, I’ve seen Raccoons and Raccants up on the hill, but the deer stay away. So I guess you’re small enough it doesn’t care.” She headed out into the sunlight.
Threadbare goggled, at the rushing river in front of him. So much water! Wait, she wasn’t going to wash him again, was she? Threadbare turned in her arms, and gave her a suspicious look, pointing to the river then at himself.
Celia seemed to understand his concern.
CHA +1
“What? No, you don’t need a bath. And if you fell in there you might drown! Well I guess you wouldn’t do that but you’d get swept away. But come on, we’ve got a ways to go and if we don’t hurry and spy on them they’ll be done talking before we get there.”
Threadbare nodded. Celia hurried on, following the curve of the river out of sight from the house. As she went, flickers of silver motion caught the little bear’s eyes. Something was in the river, something that blended in well against the foam and rocks.
PER +1
Threadbare had no concept of fish, but that’s what they were. And something in him stirred, told him that he should probably try to grab some of those. He squirmed in Celia’s arms.
“What? You want me to put you down? Okay.”
Celia turned away, heading back down the river. The rest of the toys followed.
And Threadbare, with no obligation to follow, toddled
over to the river to investigate those silver flashy things.
“Threadbare? What are you—”
It would have probably been fine, if Threadbare hadn’t hit the slick mud that the Raggedy Man’s path had worn into the banks, and thoroughly blown his agility check.
“Threadbare!”
He slipped on the mud, skidded into the river, and instantly the current grabbed him up, bouncing him off rocks and whipping him downstream!
Red ‘0’s and ‘1’s drifted up as he careened from stone to stone, arms flailing, trying to get some traction. And mostly failing.
He did manage, for a few seconds, to flail against the current.
Your actions have unlocked the generic skill: Swim!
Your Swim skill is now level 1
Celia’s cries receded behind him, his body got more and more sluggish as it got waterlogged. The surface receded away from him, as the river started to spill out into the deeper waters at the base of the hill, and the sun vanished as he sank into the muddy depths...
...and a crimson-nailed hand, much bigger than Celia’s own hand, darted down into the water and scooped him out.
The world blurred, and Threadbare found himself lifted up, water pouring from his seams, staring at a strange woman’s face. Any human who looked upon it would have called it beautiful... not a single blemish on the skin, perfectly symmetrical. Black lipstick covered tiny lips, and large, almond-shaped eyes surveyed the tiny bear from bedraggled foot to soggy head. Straight, long black hair blew in the breeze, as light as feathers.
But those eyes were ice, and they held as much emotion in them as the Raggedy Man’s eyesockets had.
“Threadbare, come back! Whoa—”
Threadbare twisted in the woman’s hand, and looked over at Celia. She’d skidded to a stop, so quickly that her toy retinue slammed into the back of her feet. With a squeak, she went head over heels backward. “Ouch!”
The woman approached, swinging Threadbare easily. “I think you lost this,” she said, in a low, warm voice. It seemed to resonate somehow, and made Threadbare think of good things. It was a comfy voice, and it brought to mind the tea parties with Celia, the hugs, and the purrs of Pulsivar as the cat groomed him.
Threadbare Volume 1 Page 7