A divine caster! This makes up for all the annoyances with my race, no this even makes up for the horrible yellow font. Divine characters are always the most overpowered. There’s even a chance that I’ll get healing magic! And everyone knows the healers are the most powerful class.
I quickly pull up my stats window and- “Wait, what?” I question with a frown.
[Stats-
Intelligence: 10
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 8
Magic: 10
Wits: 10
Vitality: 8]
My stats went down. I didn’t even get a buff to any of the other stats. Was it broken? I give the screen a little tap, mildly surprised when I actually make contact with it. It statics for a second before refocusing like an old tv, nothing has changed. Well, that’s… concerning, maybe it was a trade-off for being a divine user?
“Uh, lady-wait! …um, Nova?”
I turn back to the kid, forcing a smile to my face. I’m probably just overthinking things, no need to worry a child over it. “We won’t have to worry about anything Hero!”
He rises an eyebrow, ears twitching as he tilts his head in question, “What do you mean?”
“I’m a cleric,” I whisper like it is a secret.
Hero’s eyes go wide and he nods happily, “That’s cool,” he whispers back, before looking away abruptly, red dusting his cheeks, “and uh, what’s a cleric?” he asks in a mumble.
I smile as I respond, giving myself a little scolding for forgetting most people wouldn’t know what that meant, “Technically I’m an Acolyte, but cleric is pretty much the same thing.” I explain as he nods along, “It means I’m a holy character, one who serves a god. Think a bit like a saint or a priest. I can probably buff and heal when I get higher level.”
His eyes sparkle at my explanation, giving a happy nod of agreement, before his ears twitch and he glances down at the dagger in his hand, rusty and frayed, “I’m still cooler, but you’re not bad.”
Aww, what an honest little dishonest kid. “Survivalist is a term not often used in games, so I’m not 100% sure what you will be able to do, now or later. But I can guess it means you’re going to be sneaky and good at “surviving”. Very useful.” I assure.
He fakes a look of indifference to my reasoning, but I can see his tail happily wagging at my praise, “I already knew all that, but it's good you know too.”
Chuckling, I return back to the cabinet next to me, “But with my gear, I’m not sure what my restrictions are. Divine characters vary a lot between games. I’ll probably just stick with a robe for now.”
I can hear Hero nodding behind me as he shuffles around clattering more metal armor to the floor, “So you know a lot about this kinda thing?”
“I’ve played a lot of video games in my day.”
“Girls play video games?”
I send the kid a look and he quickly glances away, trading his disbelieving stare for one of shame. Thankfully it would seem the kid knows he’s in the wrong for that, but I doubt he understands why. I force down my frustrations, this kid is just repeating what he’s heard, don’t get mad at a middle schooler. Even in this crazy fantasy dream of life and death, the patriarchy holds strong. “All kinds of people play video games,” I explain, trying to sound aloof like I’m just stating facts, “it’s like any other hobby. Boys and girls both play sports and do art, right?”
Hero nods slowly, “That makes some sense.”
I send him a smile, reassuring him he’s correct, “Besides gender is a construct anyway, nothing is a boys thing or a girls thing, they are just things we do.”
By the mildly startled eyebrow raise and glare, that might have been a bit too liberal for the poor kid, I backtrack a bit, “Well hobbies are just for fun and I don’t see why we can’t have fun doing the same thing.”
Hero still looks a bit unsure, but he nods again, forehead wrinkled in thought as he starts to dig through the piles once more, muttering things under his breath I can’t quite hear. I probably shouldn’t be wasting time trying to help a 13 year old boy understand the nuances of our modern world, but he looks so much like my brother Benjamin that it’s a bit hard to kick my instinctual big sister lecture mode.
“Lady,” Hero calls, and I turn around with a customer service smile ready for the kid to ask some probably not totally comfortable questions, but he just shoves a dagger into my hands, “Is this a good one?”
The weapon is shiny and has a sheath which is already a good plus. I pull it out to get a look at the blade, also nice and shiny but… I carefully run my finger over the edge. It’s dull, super dull. I doubt this thing could cut cheese let alone a monster.
I hand it back with a smile, “It seems like a good blade, but don’t use it until we can sharpen it. And maybe move the sheath to your other one.”
Hero’s little black ears drop and my heart lurches at the cute and pitiful sight, “So it’s no good?”
“No, no,” I assure giving him a pat on the shoulder, “it needs a little sharpening but with a blunt blade it will be better for you to practice with. Once it’s all sharpened up, I bet you will have the best dagger out there!”
I worry I might have laid it on a little too thick, when the kid bursts into a beaming smile, “All right! Just you see, I’ll be the best ever!”
“I’m sure you will!” I agree and without even thinking about it I reach my hand up and pet his fuzzy ears.
Hero makes a weird sort of purring/growl sound and melts into the pet. I get a few good scratches in before his eyes snap open and he glares up at me with bright yellow silted eyes. He dashes a few feet to the right, hissing like a cat.
“Hey!” he protests, ears twitching even as he holds them flat on his head, “don’t just pet me!”
“Sorry sorry,” I apologize with a poorly hidden mirth.
The kid sends me another glare, this time no yellow in sight of his eyes, just a normal dark brown iris. He pointedly turns his back to me and begins to dig through the armor again, but I can still see his red cheeks and happily wagging tail.
"Do you know what kind of animal you crossed with?" I ask, partly out of genuine curiosity and the rest for something to chat about in the awkward silence.
He huffs, "Jackal."
Like a hyena? I focus back on his twitching black ears, I guess I could see them belonging to a jackal.
“Ah! There you are little miss,” a familiar smoke-worn voice says, “I was worried you were buying that foolish youngster’s nonsense, good to see you’re too smart for that.”
I turn to say hello to the old man, only to stop short. I had momentarily forgotten that all of us looked different now, of course even the fuzzy robe-wearing old man wouldn’t be spared from that.
He’s grown about two feet in height, now an intimidating 7 feet, with broad quarterback shoulders. His fuzzy bathrobe is now 3 sizes too small, and he's tied it around his waist like a sad towel. His skin is a deep green, and two tusks protrude from his bottom jaw, curving up towards his vaguely pig-looking nose. His eyes have turned a sharp gray, and small pointed ears rest on either side of his face. He’s become an orc. He’s still noticeably old, his green skin wrinkled and sun aged. He hobbles over to us, using a simple wooden cane that would be a staff to an ordinary-sized person.
“No fair!” Hero complains loudly with a pout, “Why is everyone else so much cooler than me…”
I ignore the kid as I give the older man a nod in greeting, “I like the green.”
He huffs, staring down at his large hands, “Everything is a bit too small now, but it’s not the worst.”
“Ah, I’m Nova by the way,” I greet with a little wave before motioning towards Hero who’s back to digging around in the falling apart cabinets, “The kid is Hero.”
I can feel Hero’s glare into the back of my pink hair as the old man nods sagely, “G.”
“Like the letter?”
He nods, with a dissatisfied sigh, “I couldn’t get the blasted thing to back up. So, G.”
Huh, well that’s certainly not the first time I’ve heard of someone miss-clicking on a naming screen. But to be stuck named “G” for the rest of the foreseeable future….
“So, what are you youngens up to?” he asks with the tone only a grandpa trying to get in on the mischief while his wife’s away could have. It conjures such a vivid image of my own grandfather giving me a wink and passing me an ice cream while my grandmother had her back turned as she prepared dinner.
I smile without really thinking, “Just getting some of the good stuff before everyone else comes over.”
G nods with a mischievous smile, that causes his tusks to curl up around his eyes, “Well then let me assist, I’ve appraised a few trinkets in my day.”
Hero sends G an untrusting wary look, but only moves about an extra three feet out of his way when G leans down to begin looking over things.
“The lady said I need something light,” Hero informs trying to untangle a ball of thick leather belts.
“I told you to stop calling me lady kid.”
Hero sticks his tongue out at me and returns to trying to tug a belt free, only further enhancing the image of him as a cat playing with a ball of yarn.
“Do you need anything, Miss Nova?” G asks as he inspects a metal bracer.
“I’m not totally sure what my class uses, so I’m just going to stick to something I can move around in like a robe or even what I’m wearing right now.” I explain motioning down towards my current outfit of sweater, slacks, and newly acquired boots, “And as for weapon, I’ll probably take a spear or something with range.”
G nods and sets the bracer aside to begin looking at a leather chest plate.
“Anything you need G?”
He shakes his head, “I have no idea what need as a Practitioner.”
I pause hearing the name, trying to run through my memory of video games and fast paced rambles of my younger siblings. While it was a term I had heard before, it wasn’t one I had ever seen associated with a playable class before. “I’m afraid I also don’t know, it’s a word I’ve heard but never as its own class. Maybe a mage type? Or some sort of scholar?”
“Don’t worry yourself over it, Nova.” He dismisses with a causal wave, as he helps strap Hero into his new armor, “This old man’s still got a few tricks he can use.” And gives a big over-exaggerated wink.
“I’ll trust your great wisdom then,” I agree with a little laugh, turning back to refile through the cloaks, trying to find one suitable for me to wear.
There’s an annoyed huff behind me, glancing back I see Hero tugging at the large leather chest plate hanging loosely on his form, “It’s kinda big…,” he grumbles, pulling on straps in a vain attempt to tighten it.
“Stop fiddling,” G scolds, swatting his hands away from the armor, “till we find something smaller, this should at least stop anything from getting stabbed.”
Hero’s face pales a bit and he glances over at me, nervousness clear in his slowly yellowing eyes, “We are going to fight?”
I try my best to send him a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, you will have me and G here to help out. And it’s the tutorial, so nothing too bad should be coming our way.”
Hero relaxes, as G sends an arched eyebrow my way, “And who said I was coming with you, little miss?”
I turn back to the cloaks pausing at a large blue one that wouldn’t be a bad fit for G, though it might still be a bit short on him. “Oh, come on old man, you wouldn’t have walked all the way over here if you had no intention of staying with us.”
G laughs, a deep croaking sound, his haggard voice creaking a bit as he bends over in mirth, “You got me there! Seems your pretty sharp?” though said as a question there’s a finality in the tone that would imply more fact than a question.
“Everyone has their skills, reading people just happens to be mine.” I shrug, pulling out a dark pinky-purple cloak that also seems designed for a smaller humanoid. “Hey, Hero!” I call turning around with the cloak in my hands, “Want a cloak?”
His face visibly reddens when he sees my choice, “Pink is a girly color,” He mutters.
“Nothing wrong with pink son,” G assures, patting him on the back as he moves over next to me to pick up the large blue cloak.
Hero grumbles a bit more but makes no move to collect the cloak I picked. So I dig around a bit more till I find a rumpled brown one. Nowhere near as visually appealing, but it will have to do. I toss the cloak over and watch amused as it blankets Hero, and he spends a good few seconds fighting his way out of it.
“Hey!” he protests, ears twitching and tail lashing behind him, a yellow-tinted glare in his eyes, “why did you do that?”
“You didn’t want the pink one,” I explain with a shrug, starting to look for a cloak for myself, “so you get the brown one.”
“It’s dirty,” he complains with an audible pout.
“The pink is still over here?” I offer already knowing the kid’s answer.
Hero huffs and loud clanging echoes behind me as he starts digging through the piles again, seems it’s better to be dirty than to be pink. I roll my eyes at the stupidity of it all, practicality should win above everything else, especially in this situation, maybe he will come around eventually.
Pulling out a few leather backpacks from the bottom of the cabinets, I quickly start packing them full. In the smaller bag, I slip the pink cloak inside, along with a few extra pouches, and pairs of socks. In a larger bag for myself I slip the weird circle disk, a purple cloak, and what I think is supposed to be water skin.
G sees me packing the bags and nods to himself with a small, impressed smile, fishing out a large dark leather satchel for himself and beginning to pack his own bag. Deeming the bags as good as I’m going to get, I call over my shoulder, “Hey, Hero!”
Hero’s ears immediately perk up and he glances up with a smile before he remembers that he’s supposed to be pouting still and it morphs into a frown, “What do you want?”
“Take your bag you fussy kid,” I complain fondly, placing the satchel in his arms.
He blinks in confusion at it for a moment before looking up at me, “Mine?”
“Yep,” I agree, pointing behind me where G is placing an extra cloak in his bag as well. “We don’t know how long this place is and it’s better to carry your gear with a bag than your hands.”
Hero nods with a pleased smile, pausing for a second before slipping off his stuffed school backpack and slinging the new bag over his shoulders. It’s a bit long on him, and despite his protesting, I adjust the straps so it won’t bother him when he walks. He grumbles at my fussing, muttering a sarcastic, “Thanks Mom,” under his breath. I just smile and pat him on the head, giving his fussy ears a ruffle.
“Then you best be good for your mom, right?”
Hero jerks away, a look of disgust twisting his features, “I was joking!” he protests, once again holding onto his ears, “And no pets!”
“But you are so cute!”
“I’m not cute!”
G hums, placing his own bag over his shoulder, “You’re pretty cute son.”
Hero looks between the two of us, a betrayed look shining in his eyes. He opens his mouth, but closes it soon after, huffing again as he goes back to digging through piles of armor. I send G an amused smile, and he chuckles in agreement with a nod of understanding. Hero might not realize how cute he is, but G and I will.
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