bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
Good luck? the poor boy is traumatised now, how will he ever recover.
I literally can't even, smh, omg, educate yourself.
Living a Long Life as a Legend (Original. Medieval game-world reincarnation)
- Thread starter bor902
- Start date
Good luck? the poor boy is traumatised now, how will he ever recover.
I literally can't even, smh, omg, educate yourself.
- Location
- Leeds
Well, that went interestingly.
I think theres something of a difference in basic combat ability between someone with just basic levels in combat classes vs people who do not.
I think theres something of a difference in basic combat ability between someone with just basic levels in combat classes vs people who do not.
bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
The difference was just showcased quite well, Lock could have beaten the three of them without being all sneaky, the risk would have only been slightly greater.
chapter 10
bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
Been busy as hell writing a 15-page essay about how artificial intelligence has affected chess and its player base since the inception of chess programms. I only have six pages and have to write nine more in the next three days. If anyone has any good literature or articles about the topic please message me. I'm dying.
"Those were by far the worst bandits I've ever seen," grandfather commented after the minute or so Lock needed to calm himself.
Lock simply nodded, still unsure if he trusted himself not to hurl if he opened his mouth. He'd never killed someone from so close before. Thank god he'd experienced it now, against mostly harmless enemies, with grandfather there to protect him. Suffice to say he was much more appreciative of the situation now.
"Thanks for... organizing this. Better to be done with the first time in a safe environment than when my life is actually in danger," he said, unable to bring a smile to his face, but capable of meeting grandfather's blue eyes with his... and trying to convey his gratitude with his gaze.
"I'm glad you forgive me, but is it over yet? I saw you let one live."
Right, Calm was still alive. He pushed away the repetitive phantom feeling of his hand digging a dagger into soft flesh by clenching it harshly and slamming it into a nearby tree. Then he went to drag Calm's unconscious body into the clearing.
"Is there anything we need this guy for?" he asked dully.
"Not really. You can let him live though, he didn't see your face," was grandfather's reply.
Lock shook his head. "He saw yours. You won't be here much longer, but I don't want to leave anything to chance. It only takes one arrow for it all to end prematurely after all."
He hesitated for a bit, before sitting on the back of the still dead to the world Calm and divesting himself of his greaves. This would require a finer touch. His left hand gripped his victim under the chin, while his right found purchase on his left temple. His weight anchored the torso to the ground as he pulled the head away from from its body and twisted harshly. It was more of a pop than a crack, a pop that resounded through the neck straight into his hands.
He looked up to meet the curious eyes of his grandfather. "A bloodless death," he explained.
Grandfather nodded, then crouched and started divesting Angry of his clothes, making Lock grimace. Right, the looting. Although he doubted that the corpses had anything useful on them, he still searched Calm's body thoroughly, finding a few coins in a place he'd rather not mention. After a short wash they found their way into his pack. Money was money. He picked up the bow and inspected it before shaking his head and throwing it into the clearing.
"Nothing but firewood," he muttered, walking over to his grandfather, who'd just finished divesting Potato of her valuables. "So what do we do with the bodies?" he asked.
"You're much less squeamish about this than I expected," was his reply.
"I can freely admit I didn't enjoy it, but killing them was the most beneficial route I was capable of taking in this situation."
"Fair enough. I'm glad to see you act rationally about it. The potential danger they could pose to your life was not worth theirs."
Lock smiled grimly at that. "Nothing is." This was a fact he'd known for a very long time.
"Correct."
-/-
They'd sat down after piling the bodies somewhere out of sight. Lock wasn't completely ready to take on the dungeon yet. He was still feeling a bit wonky mentally. He wanted to formulate a plan for the cyclops first and most importantly, he'd gained two levels in Assassin from the small altercation that had taken place.
He'd only really noticed after his adrenaline had died down. The level up notification was fairly unobtrusive, more an itch in the back of his head than a loud ping like he'd expected the first time he'd gained a level in his Alchemy class.
"Two levels. Odd, I was expecting one from how incompetent these guys were," grandfather commented.
Lock couldn't help but agree. The thieves really had been pathetic. Two levels meant two attribute points he could distribute; he naturally put them into Endurance and immediately felt the difference. Adding two to twenty-three was very much like emptying a glass of water into a puddle, but that was hardly to be disparaged. The glass of water had been gained in one minute of work, after all.
"How does it feel?"
"Only a slight difference. Still feels great though."
"Endurance is the hardest attribute to really feel. It consists of too many others that are only affected minimally. Regeneration, vitality, stamina..."
"Yeah, but it's definitely the one with the most refreshing feeling. I can feel my lifespan lengthening," Lock said, and they descended into silence for a bit.
"How do you think we should approach the dungeon?" grandfather finally asked.
"I made all those corpses. You think we could poison them and wait for the cyclops to simply choke to death?" It was the least dangerous plan Lock had been able to come up with, but it relied on their enemies being stupid, which was never a good assumption to make.
"Hmm, on one hand, cyclops aren't that stupid. On the other hand, I have to be wondering what the creatures have been eating for the last week or so. It can't be easy to hunt while blind, and while mana does offer nourishment, it's not a great replacement for feeling satiated." So the creatures were probably quite hungry by now, and therefore more susceptible to such a tactic.
Not needing to eat did not eliminate the feeling of hunger, a lesson he'd learned from the phase where he'd just sipped a nutrient potion every meal.
"You think we could control the corpses, make it appear as if they're some civilians simply stumbling into the dungeon by accident, and giving the cyclops the feeling of having successfully hunted down a target?" he asked. Grandfather chortled.
"I really love your pragmatism. Give me a moment. I think I have something like that with me." He walked over to his pack and started searching through it. He eventually emerged victorious from his fierce battle with the baggage and triumphantly held up two vials, filled with a dark gaseous substance.
Lock had to rummage from his memory for what the substance was for a bit, but when he did he couldn't help but laugh. "You're not a Necromancer gramps, why are you carrying around vengeful soul wisps?"
"Didn't need the money, and they can be used as a distraction against spiritual existences if you ever find yourself in a bind against any." His expression turned smug. "And another little known fact is that they like to possess corpses if coaxed into it, even if they do so incompetently."
"Alright, and how exactly do you coax them into it?" Lock asked, while simultaneously asking himself why he hadn't known about this fact.
Grandfather coughed into his hand and mumbled something. At Lock's expectant look he repeated himself, louder this time. "You have cut open a corpse, stick the open vial into it, and then sew it shut so it doesn't have any other way of escaping."
That was... macabre... there was one question plaguing his mind, though. "And how exactly did you find that out?" he asked accusingly.
Grandfather sputtered. "It's not what you think, that's for sure! I used to party up with a Necromancer who consumed the things as a sort of cheap power-up. He died one day, and scared the literal shit out of us when he rose up afterwards and tried to bite me in the butt," he said indignantly.
"You tried to replicate the process later or what?" Lock asked. Grandfather nodded. Lock tilted his head dubiously, noticing a pattern he hadn't paid attention to before. "Why do all your adventuring stories involve butt stuff?"
"Screw off," grandfather mumbled. "You get shit out of a giant one time after having killed him from within and you never hear the end of it." He trailed off, looking into the distance. Probably thinking of all the butt stuff he'd experienced.
Lock broke the silence with a question he'd never thought he'd ask. "So, can you show me how to insert a glass vial into a corpse's intestinal track now?"
"Those were by far the worst bandits I've ever seen," grandfather commented after the minute or so Lock needed to calm himself.
Lock simply nodded, still unsure if he trusted himself not to hurl if he opened his mouth. He'd never killed someone from so close before. Thank god he'd experienced it now, against mostly harmless enemies, with grandfather there to protect him. Suffice to say he was much more appreciative of the situation now.
"Thanks for... organizing this. Better to be done with the first time in a safe environment than when my life is actually in danger," he said, unable to bring a smile to his face, but capable of meeting grandfather's blue eyes with his... and trying to convey his gratitude with his gaze.
"I'm glad you forgive me, but is it over yet? I saw you let one live."
Right, Calm was still alive. He pushed away the repetitive phantom feeling of his hand digging a dagger into soft flesh by clenching it harshly and slamming it into a nearby tree. Then he went to drag Calm's unconscious body into the clearing.
"Is there anything we need this guy for?" he asked dully.
"Not really. You can let him live though, he didn't see your face," was grandfather's reply.
Lock shook his head. "He saw yours. You won't be here much longer, but I don't want to leave anything to chance. It only takes one arrow for it all to end prematurely after all."
He hesitated for a bit, before sitting on the back of the still dead to the world Calm and divesting himself of his greaves. This would require a finer touch. His left hand gripped his victim under the chin, while his right found purchase on his left temple. His weight anchored the torso to the ground as he pulled the head away from from its body and twisted harshly. It was more of a pop than a crack, a pop that resounded through the neck straight into his hands.
He looked up to meet the curious eyes of his grandfather. "A bloodless death," he explained.
Grandfather nodded, then crouched and started divesting Angry of his clothes, making Lock grimace. Right, the looting. Although he doubted that the corpses had anything useful on them, he still searched Calm's body thoroughly, finding a few coins in a place he'd rather not mention. After a short wash they found their way into his pack. Money was money. He picked up the bow and inspected it before shaking his head and throwing it into the clearing.
"Nothing but firewood," he muttered, walking over to his grandfather, who'd just finished divesting Potato of her valuables. "So what do we do with the bodies?" he asked.
"You're much less squeamish about this than I expected," was his reply.
"I can freely admit I didn't enjoy it, but killing them was the most beneficial route I was capable of taking in this situation."
"Fair enough. I'm glad to see you act rationally about it. The potential danger they could pose to your life was not worth theirs."
Lock smiled grimly at that. "Nothing is." This was a fact he'd known for a very long time.
"Correct."
-/-
They'd sat down after piling the bodies somewhere out of sight. Lock wasn't completely ready to take on the dungeon yet. He was still feeling a bit wonky mentally. He wanted to formulate a plan for the cyclops first and most importantly, he'd gained two levels in Assassin from the small altercation that had taken place.
He'd only really noticed after his adrenaline had died down. The level up notification was fairly unobtrusive, more an itch in the back of his head than a loud ping like he'd expected the first time he'd gained a level in his Alchemy class.
"Two levels. Odd, I was expecting one from how incompetent these guys were," grandfather commented.
Lock couldn't help but agree. The thieves really had been pathetic. Two levels meant two attribute points he could distribute; he naturally put them into Endurance and immediately felt the difference. Adding two to twenty-three was very much like emptying a glass of water into a puddle, but that was hardly to be disparaged. The glass of water had been gained in one minute of work, after all.
"How does it feel?"
"Only a slight difference. Still feels great though."
"Endurance is the hardest attribute to really feel. It consists of too many others that are only affected minimally. Regeneration, vitality, stamina..."
"Yeah, but it's definitely the one with the most refreshing feeling. I can feel my lifespan lengthening," Lock said, and they descended into silence for a bit.
"How do you think we should approach the dungeon?" grandfather finally asked.
"I made all those corpses. You think we could poison them and wait for the cyclops to simply choke to death?" It was the least dangerous plan Lock had been able to come up with, but it relied on their enemies being stupid, which was never a good assumption to make.
"Hmm, on one hand, cyclops aren't that stupid. On the other hand, I have to be wondering what the creatures have been eating for the last week or so. It can't be easy to hunt while blind, and while mana does offer nourishment, it's not a great replacement for feeling satiated." So the creatures were probably quite hungry by now, and therefore more susceptible to such a tactic.
Not needing to eat did not eliminate the feeling of hunger, a lesson he'd learned from the phase where he'd just sipped a nutrient potion every meal.
"You think we could control the corpses, make it appear as if they're some civilians simply stumbling into the dungeon by accident, and giving the cyclops the feeling of having successfully hunted down a target?" he asked. Grandfather chortled.
"I really love your pragmatism. Give me a moment. I think I have something like that with me." He walked over to his pack and started searching through it. He eventually emerged victorious from his fierce battle with the baggage and triumphantly held up two vials, filled with a dark gaseous substance.
Lock had to rummage from his memory for what the substance was for a bit, but when he did he couldn't help but laugh. "You're not a Necromancer gramps, why are you carrying around vengeful soul wisps?"
"Didn't need the money, and they can be used as a distraction against spiritual existences if you ever find yourself in a bind against any." His expression turned smug. "And another little known fact is that they like to possess corpses if coaxed into it, even if they do so incompetently."
"Alright, and how exactly do you coax them into it?" Lock asked, while simultaneously asking himself why he hadn't known about this fact.
Grandfather coughed into his hand and mumbled something. At Lock's expectant look he repeated himself, louder this time. "You have cut open a corpse, stick the open vial into it, and then sew it shut so it doesn't have any other way of escaping."
That was... macabre... there was one question plaguing his mind, though. "And how exactly did you find that out?" he asked accusingly.
Grandfather sputtered. "It's not what you think, that's for sure! I used to party up with a Necromancer who consumed the things as a sort of cheap power-up. He died one day, and scared the literal shit out of us when he rose up afterwards and tried to bite me in the butt," he said indignantly.
"You tried to replicate the process later or what?" Lock asked. Grandfather nodded. Lock tilted his head dubiously, noticing a pattern he hadn't paid attention to before. "Why do all your adventuring stories involve butt stuff?"
"Screw off," grandfather mumbled. "You get shit out of a giant one time after having killed him from within and you never hear the end of it." He trailed off, looking into the distance. Probably thinking of all the butt stuff he'd experienced.
Lock broke the silence with a question he'd never thought he'd ask. "So, can you show me how to insert a glass vial into a corpse's intestinal track now?"
- Location
- Elsewhere
And just think, soon all of that "experience" will be yours...
- Location
- Leeds
Huh, I didn't realise this would be a yaoi story.
bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
The ass is a place you can store things, not doing so is just not pragmatic enough.
Boy Love
One of my biggest pet peeves is unrationalism in fantasy worlds, where your life is literally at stake, so I try to write realistic thought processes. It's very difficult though.
- Location
- Leeds
One boy and his grandpa go on a camping trip. The Brokeback Mountain sequel nobody asked for.Boy Love
chapter 11
bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
Haven't written much the last two weeks, busy with stuff, thankfully I had chapters saved up.
Chapter 11
Thankfully Lock didn't have to stick his hand into anyone's ass that day, the insertion being a simple cut open, put in, and sew shut affair. With the help of grandfather's great wisdom they didn't have to to deal with anyone trying to bite his butt either, tying up the corpses before completing the process.
It was disquieting, watching people he'd freshly killed thrash against their bindings and foaming at the mouth. One might have even though they'd never died in the first place, were it not for their dark sclera and obvious wounds. They only had two wisps, so they'd reanimated the corpses of Potato and Angry due to them having more meat on their bones than Calm.
Grandfather, for once, did not have an answer to something. "How the hell am I supposed to know what part of humans cyclops like to eat best!" So Lock simply slathered the bodies of Wisptato and Wispangry with a mixture of poison that would inflict upon whomever consumed them several types of cancer in less than a minute or your money back.
"I probably should have done that before we put the wisps inside the bodies," Lock commented after finishing the task, having avoided having his hand bitten several times.
"Just be glad you put some of the poison inside the body while it was still cut open," Grandfather said and pointed at Wisptato, who was trying to eat bark off a nearby tree. "Imagine trying to feed these idiots."
-/-
After a small break for the poison to solidify and soak into the wisp-infested bodies, they dragged the two of them to the dungeon entrance. It was a hole under the water that wasn't letting any in and that Lock could not discern the dimensions of.
Lock dropped Wispangry into the hole, expecting for a moment for something to go wrong. But his fears were unfounded, and the body slipped into the hole as if it was being sucked inside. The same phenomena occurred with Wisptato's body.
They'd dropped both bodies inside at once due to the fast acting nature of the poison. The cyclops would hardly fall for the same trick twice. Lock also did not want to spend too much time in the presence of what basically amounted to two zombies.
Grandfather was the first to take watch. His job was to stand next to the dungeon entrance to watch for any cyclops suddenly emerging from it. His other job was to kick down the wisps if they tried to exit the dungeon instead of going further inside.
A thump promptly resounded. "That was fast. I'd assumed they would take longer to free themselves from their bonds," Lock commented as he pulled out the book he'd bought in Trydan. He hadn't even looked inside yet, the title Battle Alchemy simply being too tantalizing to ignore.
He sat down on a tree stump and opened it. It was old, that was for sure. It was a common misconception that old was better, which Lock didn't really understand. It just meant the book was more likely to fall apart and the language harder to comprehend. At least the language this particular book was written in was only slightly outdated.
He wasn't capable of reading uninterrupted due to having to guard the entrance every hour or so when his grandfather started to lose concentration, but he soon came to understand the general gist of what the book was. The thing holding Alchemy back from being the best non-combat profession for an adventurer was the fact that you couldn't do it while on a, well, adventure. The equipment one needed to make even a simple boil cure potion could maybe be carried around by a single person, if that person forwent things such as food, and clothing, and weapons...
Therefore you needed to buy or make the potions and substances that you thought would be useful beforehand. The problem being that no plan survived contact with the enemy, and thus Alchemy as an adventurer profession was damned to never stand on the same pedestal as cooking of all things.
Battle Alchemy, the name of the technique that the book introduced, attempted to remedy that problem. In a... highly unorthodox manner. The problem with Alchemy was definitely the equipment. Battle Alchemy attempted to solve that problem, and even further improve upon that concept by allowing for the creation of potions mid-battle. The solution was very simple: simplify potion recipes to the point where you only needed a cauldron, and then use your own stomach as that cauldron. There were some simple recipes listed in the book, a minor stamina potion and a wound cure being the only beneficial ones on the list, the other nine being poisons.
Normally, mixing substances in your own stomach to create poison of all things would be pretty dumb, but not if you had the Iron Gut skill levelled to at least three. You also needed the Stomach Storage skill to prevent the fluid from being processed and getting it back in your mouth, where you could then spew it at the enemy if it was poison, or feed it to your teammates if it wasn't. It was disgusting on so many different levels, and watching someone actually attempt it would probably give him brain hemorrhage, but Lock couldn't help but feel that there was potential in the idea.
Not in the actual potion making. That was just genuinely idiotic and unlikely to work in the heat of battle. But the simple idea of storing potions in your own stomach, where you could then use them without having to pull out a bottle to chug down or throw in the midst of battle, was quite tantalizing. Lock imaged locking blades with someone, fiery looks being exchanged, and then his enemy receiving a chunky dose of poisonous projectile vomit to the face. It was a beautiful image, suffice to say.
He only needed two skills to make it reality, Iron Gut and Stomach Storage.
Iron Gut was even available at level five of Vanguard, if one fulfilled some prerequisites. Skill trees varied with the path the owner of the Class took upon themselves, so every single one was completely individual. Similarities existed of course, because people were very much reflections of each other, but there were even cases of twins with the same Class and personality being offered two vastly different divergent skills at the same level.
Naturally the basic skills that everyone got access to were not affected by the addition of divergent ones. They were simply more possibilities. He'd known about this, naturally, it was just that none of the documented divergent skills for level five Vanguard interested him enough for him to waste time specialising himself. He'd gotten used to the idea of simply taking Shield Bash and being done with it, but now that he saw the potential of Iron Gut...
Stomach Storage wouldn't be hard to achieve either. Simply train away your gag reflex, attain control of the necessary muscles, learn how to channel some mana into them, manipulate it in harmony with your muscle control, and bam, you now had access to an inventory. Which was your stomach. Slightly inferior to a real pocket dimension, but still.
"No time like the present," Lock muttered. He walked over to the forest edge where'd he'd seen a red mushroom while hiding from the incoming bandits, picked it up, and popped it into his mouth raw.
The Iron Gut skill was attainable by eating increasingly disgusting, poisonous, and corrosive stuff for a few years and surviving, but he would simply start on that path to get the skill offered to him as he reached level five in Vanguard. It was a common theme for skills offered with level advancement to be perfectly attainable on their own; they just usually took a lot more time to develop that way.
Chapter 11
Thankfully Lock didn't have to stick his hand into anyone's ass that day, the insertion being a simple cut open, put in, and sew shut affair. With the help of grandfather's great wisdom they didn't have to to deal with anyone trying to bite his butt either, tying up the corpses before completing the process.
It was disquieting, watching people he'd freshly killed thrash against their bindings and foaming at the mouth. One might have even though they'd never died in the first place, were it not for their dark sclera and obvious wounds. They only had two wisps, so they'd reanimated the corpses of Potato and Angry due to them having more meat on their bones than Calm.
Grandfather, for once, did not have an answer to something. "How the hell am I supposed to know what part of humans cyclops like to eat best!" So Lock simply slathered the bodies of Wisptato and Wispangry with a mixture of poison that would inflict upon whomever consumed them several types of cancer in less than a minute or your money back.
"I probably should have done that before we put the wisps inside the bodies," Lock commented after finishing the task, having avoided having his hand bitten several times.
"Just be glad you put some of the poison inside the body while it was still cut open," Grandfather said and pointed at Wisptato, who was trying to eat bark off a nearby tree. "Imagine trying to feed these idiots."
-/-
After a small break for the poison to solidify and soak into the wisp-infested bodies, they dragged the two of them to the dungeon entrance. It was a hole under the water that wasn't letting any in and that Lock could not discern the dimensions of.
Lock dropped Wispangry into the hole, expecting for a moment for something to go wrong. But his fears were unfounded, and the body slipped into the hole as if it was being sucked inside. The same phenomena occurred with Wisptato's body.
They'd dropped both bodies inside at once due to the fast acting nature of the poison. The cyclops would hardly fall for the same trick twice. Lock also did not want to spend too much time in the presence of what basically amounted to two zombies.
Grandfather was the first to take watch. His job was to stand next to the dungeon entrance to watch for any cyclops suddenly emerging from it. His other job was to kick down the wisps if they tried to exit the dungeon instead of going further inside.
A thump promptly resounded. "That was fast. I'd assumed they would take longer to free themselves from their bonds," Lock commented as he pulled out the book he'd bought in Trydan. He hadn't even looked inside yet, the title Battle Alchemy simply being too tantalizing to ignore.
He sat down on a tree stump and opened it. It was old, that was for sure. It was a common misconception that old was better, which Lock didn't really understand. It just meant the book was more likely to fall apart and the language harder to comprehend. At least the language this particular book was written in was only slightly outdated.
He wasn't capable of reading uninterrupted due to having to guard the entrance every hour or so when his grandfather started to lose concentration, but he soon came to understand the general gist of what the book was. The thing holding Alchemy back from being the best non-combat profession for an adventurer was the fact that you couldn't do it while on a, well, adventure. The equipment one needed to make even a simple boil cure potion could maybe be carried around by a single person, if that person forwent things such as food, and clothing, and weapons...
Therefore you needed to buy or make the potions and substances that you thought would be useful beforehand. The problem being that no plan survived contact with the enemy, and thus Alchemy as an adventurer profession was damned to never stand on the same pedestal as cooking of all things.
Battle Alchemy, the name of the technique that the book introduced, attempted to remedy that problem. In a... highly unorthodox manner. The problem with Alchemy was definitely the equipment. Battle Alchemy attempted to solve that problem, and even further improve upon that concept by allowing for the creation of potions mid-battle. The solution was very simple: simplify potion recipes to the point where you only needed a cauldron, and then use your own stomach as that cauldron. There were some simple recipes listed in the book, a minor stamina potion and a wound cure being the only beneficial ones on the list, the other nine being poisons.
Normally, mixing substances in your own stomach to create poison of all things would be pretty dumb, but not if you had the Iron Gut skill levelled to at least three. You also needed the Stomach Storage skill to prevent the fluid from being processed and getting it back in your mouth, where you could then spew it at the enemy if it was poison, or feed it to your teammates if it wasn't. It was disgusting on so many different levels, and watching someone actually attempt it would probably give him brain hemorrhage, but Lock couldn't help but feel that there was potential in the idea.
Not in the actual potion making. That was just genuinely idiotic and unlikely to work in the heat of battle. But the simple idea of storing potions in your own stomach, where you could then use them without having to pull out a bottle to chug down or throw in the midst of battle, was quite tantalizing. Lock imaged locking blades with someone, fiery looks being exchanged, and then his enemy receiving a chunky dose of poisonous projectile vomit to the face. It was a beautiful image, suffice to say.
He only needed two skills to make it reality, Iron Gut and Stomach Storage.
Iron Gut was even available at level five of Vanguard, if one fulfilled some prerequisites. Skill trees varied with the path the owner of the Class took upon themselves, so every single one was completely individual. Similarities existed of course, because people were very much reflections of each other, but there were even cases of twins with the same Class and personality being offered two vastly different divergent skills at the same level.
Naturally the basic skills that everyone got access to were not affected by the addition of divergent ones. They were simply more possibilities. He'd known about this, naturally, it was just that none of the documented divergent skills for level five Vanguard interested him enough for him to waste time specialising himself. He'd gotten used to the idea of simply taking Shield Bash and being done with it, but now that he saw the potential of Iron Gut...
Stomach Storage wouldn't be hard to achieve either. Simply train away your gag reflex, attain control of the necessary muscles, learn how to channel some mana into them, manipulate it in harmony with your muscle control, and bam, you now had access to an inventory. Which was your stomach. Slightly inferior to a real pocket dimension, but still.
"No time like the present," Lock muttered. He walked over to the forest edge where'd he'd seen a red mushroom while hiding from the incoming bandits, picked it up, and popped it into his mouth raw.
The Iron Gut skill was attainable by eating increasingly disgusting, poisonous, and corrosive stuff for a few years and surviving, but he would simply start on that path to get the skill offered to him as he reached level five in Vanguard. It was a common theme for skills offered with level advancement to be perfectly attainable on their own; they just usually took a lot more time to develop that way.
Last edited:
- Location
- Leeds
No... You've already mentioned that you need to keep watch when your grandfather loses concentration. Eat it on the way back.
Skelethin
Barebones Writer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
What the fuck.
No seriously. What. The Fuck.
This is not ok. This is not in any way, shape or form ok.
What made you think this would be ok?
bor902
professional illiterate
- Location
- wherever i am at the moment
Rule 2 Violation: Be considerate of how offensive things are. A response to someone offended is not an excuse to go "Lol, SJW"
I actually just can't tell if you're satirizing social justice warriors or being serious.
In case you're being serious, its an expression, and its funny for me, so I will write it like that, don't take it so seriously.
If you're not being serious, nice meme, but work on your execution.
Skelethin
Barebones Writer
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Its seriously fucking offensive. To me. Personally. This isn't some sort of social justice bullshit.
This is not an ok expression, no matter the context.
I don't know when or why people decided that using autism and autistic jokes as the replacement for retard and retarded jokes(which shouldn't have been used in the first place), but its fucking obnoxious.
I have autism. This sort of shit isn't funny. Its not ok. It should never be ok.
Last edited:
Stop: Stop
Ellf
Apprentice Wizard
- Location
- Virginia
stop
@bor902, Rule 2 of this forum says "Don't be Hateful." I wish to specifically draw your attention to the following bullet point:
When you post lines like the following:
You are obviously not being considerate of how your statements can be interpreted by others. Then you doubled down with this post, after someone was offended:
Yes. Rule 2 is very serious. As you have violated it, and not only that, you seem proud of your violation, I'm giving you an infraction of 25 points. And a three day threadban. Additionally, I will be looking over this story further.
Edit: For clarity, it was actually the doubling down that brought it to the rulebreaking. If you had responded in a different manner, I might have been more lenient.
Rule 2 said:
When you post lines like the following:
You are obviously not being considerate of how your statements can be interpreted by others. Then you doubled down with this post, after someone was offended:
Yes. Rule 2 is very serious. As you have violated it, and not only that, you seem proud of your violation, I'm giving you an infraction of 25 points. And a three day threadban. Additionally, I will be looking over this story further.
Edit: For clarity, it was actually the doubling down that brought it to the rulebreaking. If you had responded in a different manner, I might have been more lenient.
Last edited:
A better phrase to have used there would be 'an aneurysm' or just plain 'brain damage'.