by Dakota Krout
His other pursuits had been in attaining skill levels, was this an active effect? Did he need to be intentionally trying to increase in these areas in order to increase them? Ugh. There were so many unknown aspects to this system! Joe bonked his head on the table a few times and looked at the puzzle cube again. It was surprisingly fun to try to do the work on the cube, but he was still leery about the more advanced problems. Nothing he could do now, so enough for today! On to other–more important–things.
It was time for Joe to form an adventuring party.
~ Chapter Four ~
“Anyone?” Joe called into the awkwardly quiet room. A few people looked his way, but they quickly turned their heads when he tried to meet their eyes with his admittedly rapidly-approaching-manic stare. “Come on, there’s gotta be some people in here that don’t have a party yet!”
Terra walked over, trying and failing miserably to hide a grin. “There is a reason parties are put together right when people join the guild. You’ve gained a bit of a reputation as an insane person.”
“What?” Joe gasped in total shock at her words. “But why? All I’ve done is awesome stuff! The people with me keep getting huge rewards, and we keep-”
“Yeah, but think of all the trouble you’ve caused, just by being here!” Terra counted off on her fingers. “You were kidnapped by the Mage’s College and tortured. Yeah, you toppled the evil Archmage, kudos. A Royal Guardsmen showed up and glared at you, giving you a mysterious ‘gift’ before leaving. You’ve died twice in a safe zone, not through pvp but because you somehow made NPC’s so mad at you that they snapped. Should I go on?”
“I don’t understand why that’s all a negative,” Joe responded calmly, though his knuckles were turning white from his clenched fists. “It’s all worked out in the end, right?”
“I’m sure you can see why normal people don’t want to join up with you though. They just want to have fun and do normal quests or find awesome quests to do where all the credit doesn’t go to the bald anti-mage, the ‘Chosen of Tatum’, whoever that is.” Terra arched a hot-pink eyebrow at him.
“You can see all of my titles?” Joe looked at his settings with concern. “I have my privacy settings set up to hide all my information; at best you should only be able to see one title at a time, whichever is equipped.”
“Firstly, you have ‘Chosen of Tatum’ set as your main title. Secondly, I have an ability called ‘scan’ already into the student ranks. Scan is similar to identify, but works on people.” Terra told him how to get the skills when he looked interested, “You need a high enough perception. Then you need to try to look at a person’s info. When you are able to see the basics of anyone’s information on a consistent basis, it should develop into an ability.”
Joe shook his head, “Back on topic! Throughout all of the craziness you are describing, there was only one time where I was alone! The other people in my party should be just as famous, minus the Mage’s College…”
Terra put her hands up in a classic surrender pose and started to back away. “I’m just telling you what everyone else is thinking. Good luck, crazy man!”
“Ugh.” Joe rolled his eyes as he saw that her words were taken as gospel by the others in the room. “Kids these days. You do a few things in a way no one else thought to do, and they get all bitter about you solving problems.” He walked into the office portion of the building, sidestepping over-eager people who were packing away books and documents. He stopped someone he vaguely recognized and asked where Aten was hiding. A set of instructions and a few turns later, he found the guild leader getting geared up. “Holy moo. What class are you?”
Aten was covered in shining silver plate metal. He pulled a winged helmet down over his head before looking over. “Oh, hey there, Joe! Class? I’m a guild leader. Thought you knew that.”
“Wait. I thought that was just a position?” Joe looked on in shock as Aten inspected a silver Warhammer that reflected… no, it was releasing its own light! His Warhammer was glowing! “Is that hammer enchanted? I haven’t seen any enchanted weapons in the game yet.”
“Yes, it's enchanted. Yes, guild leader is a class as well as a position.” Aten took a deep breath and bounced on his toes, getting used to the huge weight he was now carrying. “Did you need something? I’m off to kill a rabbit and then go for specialization.”
“Right, I was wondering if I could put together an official party or be assigned to one. I need to recruit a few people if we go the ‘put it together’ route.” Joe cast one more envious look at the beautiful armor and then tried to let the envy go. He reminded himself that he wouldn’t be able to take a single step wearing that shiny, shiny gear.
“Sure. Talk to the admin workers about doing an interview with some guild hopefuls. We’ve got a bunch of new requests to join, but not nearly enough space for them. I’d offer some suggestions, but I think you are right in thinking that you’d have trouble getting people that are already in our guild.” Aten brushed by Joe and waved over his shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Thanks…” Joe’s voice faltered as Aten vanished through the doorway. “I’m going to take that as permission to bring anyone I want into the guild. He did say admin… where the heck is admin?” Joe had to resort to asking for help a few times, but finally found someone who had files full of people who were hoping to join the guild. All the files were separated out into piles that approximated what position someone would have in a party. Fighter, tank, ranged damage, buffer or healer, and finally, rogue. Joe didn’t bother with production classes, people who focused entirely on either collecting or producing goods. Though they had important roles, he was recruiting for his personal team and not the guild.
“Is there a way that we can narrow the selection? Maybe get rid of anyone who plays a standard class? I want people who can wear many hats, fill many roles.” Joe tried to direct the man helping him sort through the files.
“We can, I think. Do you mean you want multi-classers or cross-classers?” the friendly, but extraordinarily bland man questioned.
“What’s the difference?”
“Multi-classers literally switch between classes. You might have a guy who plays as a warrior in a party but switches to rogue when alone.” Even his voice was bland. Joe ground his teeth as the man continued droning, “Cross-classers are different; they might be trying to combine class abilities or unique features into unique classes when they specialize, so they use abilities from multiple classes even though there is a really hefty stamina or mana penalty to do so, something like seven times more expensive. They can also only learn a few skills outside of their area of expertise.”
“That one. Cross-classers. I want focused yet driven teammates,” Joe quickly responded. The man nodded sleepily and helped sort out the exotic classes. The piles were now much smaller and the people much more… interesting. On the forms there was a list of the reasons the person in question had not been accepted right away.
“Really? This guy has everything I’m looking for in a fighter, and he wasn’t added to the guild because, and I quote, ‘dude’s creepy as shnizz’. Who wrote this?” Joe only got a shrug in return.
“Fine.” Joe took his time going through the pile and picked out a few other likely candidates. “I’m glad these at least have a rough location for finding them.”
Reading over the paper, Joe meandered through the streets until he saw the inn he was looking for. There was a bit of a commotion going on, but he didn’t think much of it until he saw that most of the crowd were members of the guard. Joe hurried over, just in case someone had been hurt. He did have a deal with the guard to heal them if needed. The strangest sight he had ever seen in a public area greeted him.
“No! Not like that!” A smiling man wearing only cloth armor easily dodged a sword that was swinging at him. “Terrible posture! Disgusting form! Tore that shoulder a while ago? You must have hurt yourself overextending like that. Here!” The man’s hands weaved out, striking the guard’s joint
s and sending him clattering to the ground. “That should help, keep practicing boy-o!”
Another sword came at him from the side and he danced around it as if the wind had buffeted him to the side. “Some yellow teeth you have there. Oh, that looks bad. Let me help.” He threw something at the guard which stuck into his neck, and the targeted guard dropped to the ground with a gurgle.
A fist struck the smiling man in the stomach, and he was bent over from the force. He bounced back a few feet, put his hands on his gut, and twisted. A moist *crack* could be heard, and he went right back to smiling. “Goodness! That was a lot of force, but the way you twisted… you must have hurt your teres major. That’s a muscle in your shoulder… you know what, c’mere.” He breezed forward and slammed a palm into the guard’s back. “There ya go. Seems like a common injury with you sword-flingers.”
“Everybody stop!” Joe bellowed as loudly as possible when he saw arrows being pulled back. To his shock, they actually did stop. “First of all, is anyone hurt? Next, what in the abyss is going on?” He stopped talking, he had meant to say abyss. No, not that. He was trying to think abyss. Celestial and abyss. What in the…?
“Hey there, friendly stranger! No one is seriously injured, though there might be minor bruising and tiny lacerations.” The strange smiling man was the first to speak, earning himself glares from the guards as they stepped in to take advantage of his chattiness.
Joe winced as he saw fury and murder in the guards’ eyes. “Um. You’re probably not who I’m looking for, but you wouldn’t happen to be Jaxon, would you?”
“Hey, yeah, that’s me!” Jaxon responded brightly. “Can I help you with something? Do you need an adjustment?” His fingers started to wiggle as he asked the second question. Not a normal ‘jazz hands’ wiggle, but independent movement for each finger, like worms attached to his palms.
“Oh, boy.” Joe turned to the guards. “Hey all, can you please tell me what’s going on? I might be able to fix… whatever this is.”
“This is no place for a civilian–ow!” Another guard cuffed the one speaking on the back of the head.
“Quiet, you! That’s Joe. The cleric that comes and heals all the guards.” There was still a petulant look on the face of the guard who was rubbing his head. “You know, the one who does it for free?” Panic showed in the first man’s eyes, but they hardened after a moment.
“I know you have a very good reputation with the Captain, but…” the guard hesitated as the others glared at him.
“I’m just trying to clear this up without someone getting hurt,” Joe promised with a small smile. He gestured at Jaxon. “I’m actually here to talk to him, and I’d prefer not to do it while he is in a cell.” The guard still hesitated. “Can I heal anyone who needs it… perhaps while you tell me why he is in trouble? How this started?”
This seemed to tip the guard’s mind in Joe’s favor, so he nodded and began to talk. “We had a report about a man who was walking around striking people. Never… attacking them, per se, but slapping, poking, or grabbing them. When we were told he stabbed someone, we came over to arrest him. Only thing is… we could barely touch this weirdo. Then he started telling us that he was going to ‘fix’ us and kept attacking us whenever we got close.”
Joe turned to Jaxon, who was waiting patiently in the circle of guards while bouncing on his toes. “Why were you attacking people?”
“I wasn’t!” Jaxon proclaimed instantly. “They needed or asked for treatment and wouldn’t get into the proper position to let me help them. So I needed to take matters into my own hands.” He wiggled his fingers again. “In fact, I can show you what I’m talking about if you’d like.”
Looking around at the wary guards, Joe nodded slowly. “Sure. We’ll call this your interview to join my party in The Wanderer’s guild.”
“Oh, that’s what you are here for? Excellent, and a wonderful decision.” Jaxon moved forward, far too fast in Joe’s opinion. His hands launched forward like ballista bolts and landed on Joe’s chest and lower back. He pushed and twisted, forcing Joe to move as wet popping sounds filled the air. Jaxon shook Joe’s arms, cracked his fingers, finally grabbing his chin and twisting Joe’s head back and forth. The guards took a panicked step forward, looking sick to their stomachs. “There you go!” Jaxon finally stated. “You’ve been slouching, possibly reading or working at a desk far too long. That’ll help your posture and energy levels today. We should set up a frequent appointment if you want to stay moving at maximum efficiency.”
Joe had to admit, he felt great. There was only one small issue: the abrupt movement had cost him eight points of health. While that didn’t sound like much, it was a significant portion of his total health pool. At least now he knew why the guard had been called. Checking his active effects tab to see what had changed, Joe was thoroughly impressed.
Buff added: Well-adjusted. After allowing another man to handle you roughly, you feel great! Not a total surprise, now all of that time you spent in the library avoiding people makes sense. Temporary effect: Charisma, intelligence, wisdom, dexterity, and constitution +2. Time remaining for buff: 35:59.
“Holy…!” Joe exclaimed in happiness and amazement, having learned to ignore the caustic remarks of the system. “I feel wonderful! What did you just do, and why in the world did it give me a temporary increase to five different stats?”
“I adjusted you,” Jaxon explained to him as if he were a simpleton. “I’m a chiropractor and acupuncturist in the real world, and it turns out that the skills transferred to here! I just needed to show my real skill, and it bumped me all the way to expert.”
“Aren’t you level five?” Joe looked around at the shocked guards who were all checking their own active effects. Anyone who had been ‘attacked’ had round eyes and were whispering amongst themselves.
“Yuppers!” Jaxon’s smile remained fixed in place without seeming forced, giving him a serial-killer vibe. “In my own humble opinion, I should have at least Master rank in those skills. I can’t seem to figure out what the system needs from me in order to recognize my ability.” He walked over to the guard who had crumpled to the ground, pulling out a thin needle. “There you go, fella! That should keep you off smoking for a few days. Try to make it a permanent habit!”
Joe covered a smile as the abashed guard was pulled to his feet. “I’d really like you to join my team. Are you a ranger? Rogue? Your file says fighter, but…”
“No, fighter is correct; specifically, my class is ‘Monk’. I’ve always wanted to try adjusting animals and other creatures, but the ethics committee kept stopping me! Something about a degree needed to adjust animals. But here, not only can I adjust people and test out theories of acupuncture without needing my patient to be stationary, lying down, on a table, et cetera, but there are apparently humanoids! Wolfmen, Elves, Dwarves… I cannot wait to see how their bones and circulatory systems are differentiated from ours!” Jaxon was breathing heavily and smiling at the sky. “So excited. Oh, and yes, I’ll join your team.”
Joe hadn’t officially invited him, but it was true that Jaxon fit what he was looking for pretty well. Can’t be number one if you aren’t odd, right? Joe gave him some information on where to meet up in an hour or so, healed any guards that had lost health, and walked away after making Jaxon promise that he wouldn’t try to ‘fix’ anyone until they were in a party.
~ Chapter Five ~
“So, I have a front-line fighter. Good. Next is… the tank. Really gonna need to make sure to choose the right person here. Some good options, though.” Joe shuffled through the files he had on people that designated themselves as damage absorbers. He pulled out his favorite and had to shake his head. “Why in the world are you listed as a tank? Alright, let’s see what makes you tick.” It took about ten minutes to navigate to the Bard’s Theater–which was a glorified training building for musicians–but when he arrived he was glad that he had made the trip.
“For goodness sakes, stop that!” Joe ha
d walked into a performance room, where people were being judged on their singing ability. Emphasis was on judge if the downcast faces in the room were any indication. There was a small panel of gaudily dressed people sitting in the audience, and one of them was shouting at the man performing, “You have absolutely no skill in singing! I hated it so much that I dislike you as a person now!”
“I’m not singing, ya fat peacock!” the man on the stage shouted back with a thick Scottish accent. “I’m gol’ darn chanting!”
“Get out of here! You fail! Shoo!” the Judge shouted while waving his hands at the glowering applicant.
“Ah, get it up ye. Ahm goo-in, and ahm taking back ma fees, ye dobber!”
The Judge crossed his arms haughtily. “Whatever gets you out of here the fastest.”
Joe intercepted the man he was almost sure he was here to meet, getting a glare in return for blocking his path. “Excuse me, are you Bard?”
“Apparently naw,” the man shouted at high volume back into the room. He turned to Joe and stuck out a hand. “Ahm Bard, whatcha need?”
“I’m forming a party for The Wanderer’s guild. I’m looking for a person to fill the role of tank, and your name was at the top of my list.” Joe looked back into the room. “Though if you have other things to do, I won’t get in your way. Also, I was wondering how you fit the role of a tank as a Bard.”
“Pff. Those cowards an’ insufferable pricks? Ahm done wi’ them.” Bard glanced at Joe’s body, trying to see what kind of character he was. “Ahm not a Bard, ahm Bard. Mah name. Mah class is apparently rare, and the stinkin’ Bardic college canno’ or will naw find a way to teach me their skills.”
“Oh? I was told you had already proven yourself as a Bard to the guild…” Joe trailed off leadingly.
“Ahm a Skald. Much betta’ than ah stinkin’ Bard.” Bard spat on the floor, ignoring the fact that they were still indoors. “Ah thought ah was gon’ be a Bard when ah first started playin’, so ah thought it’d be funny tae have mah name be the same as mah class. Ya know, kinda ah play on words. Being ah Skald is pretty similar, but instead of sitting in the back ahm on the front lines chantin’, buffin’, and slicin’ with mah axes.”