WilburWoods
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Chapter 59 - Cave
🕑 Added 2023-07-05 16:27:10 +0000 UTCMax and Maverick Cultivated throughout that night and the next morning, while the others were setting up the outpost. Intermittently, Max did idly wonder if the other thought he was being a selfish prick, but it couldn’t be helped. He only hoped they would understand. But if they didn’t, that was their problem, not Max’s. He had bigger problems.
But it wasn’t all problems. After a morning of strenuous cycling, they finally got that last level up they were inching for.
Leveled up Quartz-level Cultivator (greater) to 9
+2 free attribute point
Both of them audibly sighed when the system message popped up. There was still ten minutes or so of their pill left, but right now they just couldn’t be bothered. Even after using several and handing them out, they still have over 800 left.
“Whew. That was one bastard of a stretch,” Maverick groaned. “Why do I keep doing these things for you?”
“It’s for us,” Max said between breaths. “That’s eighteen free attribute points.”
“I want…” Maverick panted. “...Intelligence.”
“I know, I know.”
With a sluggish mind Max brought up the menu and spent his free attribute points. Since he would be spending an extended amount of time in the Dreadlands and Cultivation took a toll on the Stamina as well, Max decided it was prudent to get a little heavy handed on Constitution. The extra Health certainly wouldn’t hurt either. He put a total of ten points into that. One might think it wasn’t necessary for him as a ranged fighter with reasonable mobility, but his fight with the Stranger had been too close a shave. Struggling to chug down a [Health potion] in his death throes, was not something Max was keen to repeat on a regular basis. With 8 points left, he decided to round out Resistance and put the rest on Intelligence to appease his ever-insistent companion.
Name: Max Cromwell
Cultivation stage: Quartz (greater)
Class: Graviturgist
Level: 18
Health: 700/700
Stamina: 700/700
Mana: 900/900
Alliance: Joshua’s Group
Stats:
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 16
Constitution: 70
Intelligence: 90
Wisdom: 55
Charisma: 14
Precision: 37
Toughness: 20
Resistance: 30
Max was pleased with his stats. His Intelligence had become so high that his [Tethers] were serious now, being able to lock down powerful beasts, such as the mutated panthers. Intelligence also expanded his Mana pool. He was very pleased to have been able to use [Gravity Well] for an expanded amount of time yesterday during the Vilefiend exercises.
And of course Maverick’s damage (and ego) went up the higher he pumped the stat. Max still felt like he needed more offensive options, especially against multiple enemies. But at least he was feeling fairly confident that he could approach the idea of taking down larger foes, such as the giant yaks or the demon insect creatures with the power he had now.
“Let me get this straight, Maximillian. I went through all this trouble for five, mere five points of intelligence. I’m not sure you’re reinforcing the right behavior here.”
Max shrugged as he got up from the focus circle. “The points are spent. I need the other stats too. But you can rest assured, Intelligence is mandatory.”
“It had better be,” Maverick said. “All this nonsense with defensive stats… I cannot fathom why you would need any.”
“I can’t imagine you could,” Max said as he put away his tools and dusted himself off. “You’re a gun. You’re all about the offense.”
“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Maverick huffed. “Single-minded focus is a path of sovereign mastery that is forever closed to plebeian sidekicks like you.”
“I feel like being an indestructible inorganic construct clouds you from the fact that I might die any day out here.”
“Bah. Nothing is clouded from my boundless genius. I am merely suggesting an alternative approach. If you punch the hardest, who will oppose you?”
“We’ll continue the great debate another time,” Max said as he came out of the tunnel to the main room, Maverick tucked in the holster. “Morning guys.”
“Mornin’”
“Hey.”
“You look dead on your feet, darling.”
“Good morning, Max.”
The outpost was sitting in a circle of sorts and divvying up breakfast supplies. Max took a piece of meat from a bowl. It was two days old and smelled funky. Max shrugged and ate the stringy meat anyway. Unless someone learned ice magic, there was no refrigeration.
Wait a minute. Someone really has to learn ice magic.
“For a seemingly simple monkey, you do have good ideas sometimes,” Maverick announced out of the blue.
That drew confused looks and Max sighed.
“What idea?” Brian asked.
Max explained what he had thought and that prompted an excited conversation between the [Combatants] and the [Artisans] who could both generate their own variations of ice magic.
“Did you see how the dwarves used lava to create floors,” one of the support crew, a young man Max’s age, said. “Maybe we could do the same!”
“You can’t build anything out of ice,” Freya said in almost an admonishing tone. “It’s best to just have a [Combatant] learn ice stuff.
“You can’t just have someone with combat skills work as a walking freezer for the camp or the outpost,” One of Brian’s men said. “They need to be out there fighting.”
“Agreed,” Max said. All the heads turned, waiting for Max to speak. Max still didn’t quite understand why everyone treated him as an expert in every conceivable subject. “Also we don’t know if an [Artisan] with ice magic could make permanent constructs. It’s magic after all. We have only been thinking in terms of traditional approaches to better our lives, with people picking up classes like [Cook] or [Carpenter]. But there could be rare classes hidden like [Ice Architect] or something. They could build walls and bridges too. Not just fridges.”
“Wow…” Freya said dreamily. “I— I kind of want to do that now.”
“What’s your build like?” Max asked before he attacked the stringy bite of meat. He wondered if putting a few points in Strength would make eating the meat easier.
“I’m kind of floating a lot of free points right now…” Freya said, a little embarrassed. “I put most in Constitution when the big panther attack came…”
“That’s… Max trailed off. He found himself constantly underestimating people he noticed. “That was a really smart move.”
Freya brightened at that and smiled demurely.
“I think if you want to pursue this Ice business, you could contact the Zoos and ask about it. You will probably need an Intelligence build for it.”
“Oh. I’ll try doing that.”
“You think that will work, darling?” Christie asked. “Contacting the Zoos about this?”
“It doesn’t hurt to try,” Max shrugged. “But I don’t know. I could also ask the dwarf king about this.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Brian said. “I don’t trust the jellyfishes.”
“Well, I’ll tell you this much. They’re certainly more on our side than any of the other races of the ICCB…”
“I still have a hard time imagining you can just choose what you get,” The girl who had been taken from Sid’s cooking crew said, hugging her knees pensively. She had a brown messy hair cut short crudely with a knife. Long hair and cooking weren’t a good match.
“You got the [Cook] class, didn’t you?” Max said.
“I suppose so,” the girl agreed. “But I was cooking for a while before I got to level ten and chose the class.”
“Yeah, I can’t promise for sure you’ll get an ice-class, Freya,” Max said. Then he turned his gaze to look at the others. “But I think it’s a good idea to try things and try to figure things out.”
There was a murmur of agreement in the circle.
“I know you can affect what the Framework gives you,” Max said. “It will adjust to your circumstances. So it’s intelligent somehow. I wouldn’t be terribly surprised if it took into account your personal tendencies and wishes to an extent.”
“Wouldn’t that be something…” One of Brian’s men, the fat one said half-aloud.
“We should test it,” Max said, excitement growing. “If Freya contacts the Zoos and spends points in Intelligence, we should see if she can affect her class. What level are you now, Freya?”
“I’m 8,” she said.
“Great,” Max said. “Probably not a bad idea to uhh.. Think about icey stuff? And hope you get ice stuff?”
Freya giggled. “Already working on it, Max.”
“Darling, I didn’t know you were so full of creative ideas,” Christie said in her throaty voice. She took a look at Freya, but said nothing. “You and I should make time to discuss how my team should arrange their classes.”
“Sure,” Max said. Freya shot a glance at Christie, not entirely friendly. Max was getting uncomfortable. He got up, throwing the last bite of meat in his mouth.
“Okay. Next order of business. We will go hunt a yak for you, so you’ll get some food and materials. Then I’ll go see the dwarves. Finish your meals and let’s go.
