His goal for the day was to finally settle on the kind of build that he wanted to work towards. He’d already spent too much time dawdling and meandering, following well-meaning, though ultimately dubious advice. He’d rather chart his own course now, before the Sage had another chance to press her influence on him.
The first order of business was deciding whether to remain a generalist or specialize in one field. So far, his generalism had been so broad it bordered on aimless. As things stood, he could half-ass a dozen different things, but there wasn’t a single field he could confidently claim as his own.
Over-specializing, on the other hand, could prove equally as troubling. Despite Jadzia’s jabs at his inability to properly adapt his gaming experience to Elderpyre, things weren’t so cut and dry.
If online message boards and the like were to be believed, plenty of people in an isekai-adjacent situation like his would grab the first high-damage Ability they could—ideally some variation of Fireball—and try to blast their way through every problem.
In his own expert opinion, most of those people were idiots. The were the kind of people who genuinely believed they could single-handedly badass their way through a bank robbery or a hostage situation, despite never having thrown a single punch in their lives.
That was not how things worked. The thing about brute force was that, for it to be effective, you needed enough of it, and most people vastly overestimated their odds of being the biggest fish in the pond at any given time.
But then again, such was the nature of idle power fantasies and wish fulfillment.
The longer Hunter spent in Elderpyre, on the contrary, the more firmly he became a believer in the power of utility and flexibility. A jack of all trades was the master of none, true. But as the second, oft-ignored part of the saying went, he was oftentimes better than a master of one.
Which wasn’t to say, of course, that he wasn’t badly in need of some actual firepower himself, even if not necessarily the literal, Fireball-throwing kind.
Lately, his mind kept circling back to the single Marketing 101 class he’d attended back when he still thought college might be the way to go. In those forty-seven minutes of tedium, he’d learned two things: first, that he’d rather give himself a transorbital lobotomy with a silly straw than work a marketing job; second, the supposed importance of being “T-shaped”, or a so-called versatilist.
In that metaphor, the vertical bar of the T represented depth of mastery: skills and expertise in a single field. The horizontal bar, by contrast, stood for breadth: the ability to collaborate across disciplines, to understand how other fields work, and to apply one’s knowledge beyond a single area of focus.
For Hunter, being a versatilist had an undeniable appeal. He already had the horizontal bar of the T covered: from foraging, cooking, and wilderness survival, to crafting charms and salves, shooting a bow, and holding his own in a fight, the breadth of situations he could half-ass his way through was impressive.
What he lacked, so far, was the proverbial vertical bar.
So far, everyone who’d weighed in on that had a different opinion. Fawkes would have him follow some kind of elven Path and become a gith, a spellsword. Wroth would have him follow the Path of the White Cloud, and become a glaive-wielding warrior. And Aumir, besides his insistence on Archery and the basics of a proper Hunt, believed Hunter’s gift lay elsewhere; according to the strange huntsman, he had the makings of a skilled spirit-speaker.
Hunter was beginning to think Aumir had the right idea. At the end of the day, after all, when all was said and done, his Class was still Mystic; seeker of secrets, striker of accords, keeper of forbidden knowledge. Living proof, as the class description read, that insight begets power, especially the inhuman kind. He might as well embrace it properly.
The second order of business was to spend the Aether he’d been stockpiling and level up. He’d already held on to it for far too long. At this point, he was practically tempting fate; if he kicked the bucket again, he’d lose all of it. The problem was, he still wasn’t sure what attribute to invest in.
Out of the five times he’d leveled up so far, he’d used four to boost his Health and one to boost his Stamina. Safe choices, both, even if a bit boring ones. Hunter didn’t see the point of upgrading either of those, for the time being. After all, both his Health and Stamina were further boosted by passive bonus from his Abilities—from Toughness and Conditioning respectively.
Essence was another safe bet. Having more fuel for his mystical Abilities would definitely serve him well in the future, should he choose to go down the path of the spirit-speaker. Still, while there might come a time when his limited Essence reserves became a bottleneck in his growth, that time hadn’t come yet. He made a mental note to circle back to that later, and moved down the list of Attributes.
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Next were Strength and Dexterity. In hindsight, he probably should have invested in one of them back when he was training as an Aspirant; either would have gone a long way toward improving his glaivefighting. The reason he’d held back was that he wasn’t ready to fully commit to a primarily warrior-focused Path like the one Wroth taught.
That still remained to be the case; he’d already rounded out his warrior skills with a multitude of Abilities and synergies. There was no reason to double down, especially as a Mystic. If he landed in hot water again, he doubted a few extra points in Strength or Dexterity would be his best way out.
That left the three mental Attributes: Intellect, Willpower, and Presence. The Sage’s Ivory Owl Pendant of Far-Sight already granted him a +1 to each. His best bet was to dig deeper into how exactly each of the three could benefit him, then choose the one that best complemented the mystical side of his skillset.
Determined to do just that, he pulled out the owl pendant and got to work.
With it as a mystic lens, using Mystic Eye to glean information wasn’t so bad. Still, repeated use made the recoil of forcing knowledge into his brain progressively worse. It cost him the better part of two hours, a splitting migraine, and a nasty nosebleed, but Hunter got the answers he was looking for.
Intellect would serve him best if he pursued a more structured approach to spellcasting. His Galdorcraeft skill leaned toward an intuitive, folk-magic style, but getting it to 20 had unlocked two new, more wizard-like Abilities he could learn: Create Mystic Grimoire and Craft Mystic Focus. He had half a mind to pick them up on the spot and push deeper into the spellcaster side of his Mystic Class.
Still, he had other options to consider: Willpower would be the Attribute to choose if he wanted to give his mystical abilities more bang for their buck. Coincidentally, it would also shore up his defenses against mental intrusions and mind-affecting magic. That alone made it a strong contender, given his present circumstances.
Last, but by no means least, was Presence—the Elderpyre equivalent of charisma. Hunter wasn’t particularly interested in learning how to sweet-talk the panties off anyone, but Presence had other, more mystically-inclinded uses, too. Most importantly, it was the Attribute that would serve him best if he intended to delve deeper into the accord-striking side of the Mystic Class. It was the spirit-speaker attribute, the one that would give him an edge in communing with, conjuring, and commanding spirits.
The way Hunter saw it, leveling up his Intellect would mainly pay off if he chose to shift toward a more academic style of spellcasting—a long-term investment at best. For resisting the Sage’s influence and renegotiating his accord with Herne, Willpower and Presence would serve him far better in the short term. And if he couldn’t find a way to manage those two, he likely wouldn’t have much of a long term to worry about anyway.
In the end, Hunter decided his best course was to split his upgrades between Willpower and Presence. Both were too important to ignore; one to strengthen his magic and steel his mind, the other to give him sway over spirits. The exact balance between them, however, still left him uncertain.
How many points should go where?
How far could he stretch his Aether?
He wasn’t even sure how many level-ups his current stash of Aether would buy him, let alone how to divide them once he got there.
His math being what it was, Hunter decided it would be wiser to ask for help. Better to bounce a few ideads off a friend and get a second opinion than risk botching his build over bad arithmetic.
***
“Thirteen, sir,” Mortimer said.
Hunter could scarcely believe his ears.
“You gotta be shitting me. Are you sure about that?”
“Positive, sir.”
“So let me get this straight—I’ve been running around sitting on thirteen levels’ worth of Aether? Risking to lose it all if things went south?”
“It seems so, sir.”
“And you didn’t think of pointing that out to me?”
“It’s not my place to question your judgment, sir.”
“That’s exactly what your place should be!”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, sir—not unless you specifically ask me to.”
“Well, I’m specifically asking you to now.”
“Then, sir,” the bartender said, “it might be a good idea to spend that Aether right away.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Thirteen levels. Thirteen points to distribute among his Attributes. His mind went to all the times he could have died over the past few months; the Blood Grove, the fight with the Penitent, the mad rush across Thraggoth’s Run. Just the thought of losing thirteen levels’ worth of Aether was enough to give him conniptions.
“So, about those upgrades,” he said, trying not to dwell on it too long. “I was thinking of sinking eight points into Willpower and five into Presence.”
“Since you expressed such an intense aversion to being subjected to the influence of the Sage, sir, might I suggest a ten-three split instead?”
Hunter gave it some thought. Mort wasn’t wrong. Two extra points in Willpower would go a long way toward armoring his mind against intrusions, and even a relatively modest three-point increase in Presence would still be nearly a thirty percent boost. That should be enough to give him a running start in any spirit-speaking he might attempt in the weeks ahead.
“Alright then, let’s do this.”
He focused his will and triggered the level-up process. Aether surged through his Essence channels, chilling him from the inside as it flowed toward his core. A cascade of notifications lit up his HUD, but he ignored them; instead, he pushed the flow harder, until only scraps of Aether remained. Only then did he pull up his Character Sheet.
Qualities:
Level: 19
Aether: 47
élan: 7
Insight: 10
Inspiration: 7
Serendipity: 0
Attributes:
Health: 165 (140+25)
Essence: 100 Stamina: 132 (110+22)
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 10
Intellect: 10
Willpower: 21 (20+1)
Presence: 14 (13+1)
Hunter was exhilarated. Level nineteen, with almost twice the Willpower he’d had only moments ago. He flexed his will and felt the difference immediately. Hell, he felt like he could do anything.
“Remind me never to never put off leveling up again, Mort.”
“Certainly, sir,” said the bartender, solemn as ever. “And while we’re on the subject of gross negligence, might I bring something else you’ve been ignoring?”
Hunter cocked an eyebrow, his proverbial victory lap cut short.
“Shoot.”
“That trait of yours, sir,” Mort said, matter-of-fact. “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome.”
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