Dialysis book: Chapter 26: Crystal Bonanza.

Now that I had a better understanding of how the elven city worked, finding things got a lot easier.  They didn’t use streets, those were dangerous, they had garden plazas that were used for navigation.  Finding those plazas was tricky for an outsider, though most elves understood the general placement of everything based on some racial knowledge that I wasn't a party to.

Fortunately we had a trick.

“I am but a simple good boy, where is Ulguth’s Shardsmithy?” asked Shade, his face a mask of utter dejection.  The young elven lass, who couldn’t have been more than eighty, caved instantly, pointing the correct direction.  She earned a mighty lick from Shade as he continued along on his merry way.

I followed shortly thereafter.  If the elves knew they were helping me, they got recalcitrant however no one could resist a good boi.  Shade charmed his way past everyone and I simply followed along on my leisure.

I left Farring plaza and crossed over to Humpo garden then finally into Gimpwuld pavilion.  Humpo was an elf famous for making delicious cream pies.

“He sure was,” said Spivy happily.

“Shut up you annoying fairy,” I groaned.  I smelled something that could have been banana cream, but that might have just been my mind attempting to preserve itself.

We crossed that garden quickly and headed to Gimpwuld.  There was a shard smith here who would serve me for the simple reason that he was not an elf.

“How do you know the local shardsmith will sell to me,” I asked as I pushed through the local herd of traffic ready animals.

“‘I’ve been looking around, Grimwuld is reputed to buy just about anything,” said Spivy, gesturing towards a branch that took me directly into the plaza as I considered the smith.

The elves could be separated into three categories.  The actual racists, this was the big one.  They didn’t like lo-tai at all.  The casual racists.  There were plenty of those, and they didn’t like humans but also didn’t care enough to really fight you if you insisted.  Finally there were the pro-forma racists, who were just racist because everyone else was.

Then came the kind of garden you entered.  If the garden was all elf like Farring, you tended to get a bad response as an outsider.  If you got into one of the gardens that had at least a token non-elf in it, you were mainly able to function if you were quick and polite.

Thankfully, Gimpwuld’s Garden was one of the rare enclaves where the businesses were made up entirely of non-elves.  There were dwarves, orcs, humans, halflings, gnomes, several races I didn’t recognize and a pair of centaurs all walking around doing business in the garden.

“Are those elves,” I asked, examining several short eared elves walking through the crowd with a single long eared elf.  The long eared one waved at a halfling.

“What happens in Gimpwuld, stays in Gimpwuld,” said a deep voice.

I turned to see the centaur standing high above me.  That was an odd image up close.  The horse part was a brilliant brown and chestnut stallion who’s body stopped at the neck, where a whole human torso was connected.  The very tanned bare chested, absolutely ripped man was built, to put it mildly, and with the horse part standing a good eight feet off the ground, the human part ended up at around the eleven foot mark.

“Good to know,” I yelled up.

“I have ears, you don’t need to do that,” said the centaur as he loaded some produce in a saddle bag.  The saddlebags were designed to shift the goods to the back once they were filled, so he kept putting more and more in there.  “The name is Patch.”

“Max,” I replied and gestured down to my dog, “And that is Shade.”

“Poor thing,” said Patch as Shade tried to look up at him.  “Is he some sort of mutant doat?”

“I am a dog,” said Shade.

Patch blinked several times, “That’s new.  Anyway, what are you looking for?”

“I came here for a shard vendor that would sell to humans,” I said.

“No problem here, in Gimpwuld all your money is good,” said Patch.

“Good to know,” I said, admiring his physique for a moment too long.

“I see you’ve noticed my pecks,” said Patch, flexing each in a hypnotic pattern.  “That’s part of being a centaur.  The fact that my bottom half is a horse means that I need to use a lot of strength to do a number of tasks that a human would find much easier.  As such, all centaurs tend to have vastly exaggerated human proportions.”

“Interesting, that’s for the bit of knowledge and the direction,” I offered, walking past the fruit stand and grabbing an apple… pear… fruit.  I grabbed a fruit.  It looked like an apple/pear hybrid and was a lot denser than I thought it should be.  I pulled out two copper coins and handed them over to the topless centaur woman who was running the stand.  As she turned, the sun was blotted out.

“Sweet merciful mammaries!”

“Thank you? I don’t believe we’ve met,” replied the centauress?  “I’m Chesty.”

“You sure are,” I replied, then coughed.  “I’m Max.”

“Are you from Darven,” she asked.

“I came from there, yes, it was quite nipply on the way here,” I said.  “Nippy.”

“Yeah, it is pretty obvious you haven’t met a centaur before,” she said, reaching down with her hand and lifted my chin up.  She might have closed my mouth.  It was difficult to resist, she just looks so… tasty.

“Snack?” I began, looking at her bouncy bits, but then I got control over myself.  “I’m sorry, I’m usually breaster than that. I mean, I try not to be such a boob in public.”

She snorted, which sounded a lot more like a horse than you’d expect it to.  She folded her arms beneath her breasts which did nothing to help my concentration.  “Centaur women have to feed centaur babies, so of course that means we are built to support a hundred pound offspring.”

That jarred me out of my stupor, “Wait, even if they are easily the largest, perkiest ones I’ve ever seen in my life, that couldn’t possibly feed a hundred pound baby.”

“She has a second set down below,” said Patch with a snort.

“Dude,” I said.

“I know right,” smiled Patch lovingly at his wife.  She blushed at him.

“I’m gonna go,” I said.  “Tit’s been nice to meet ya… damn it.”

“Almost,” said Chesty, getting  back to work.

“You embarrassed yourself back there,” said Spivy.

“She was more well endowed than most anime wifus,” I said, searching the area.  Unlike the elven areas, there were clearly designated signs at all the shops and I spotted my target quickly.  The sign was of a large crystal, “What do you think they sell?”

“Dog treats,” asked Shade hopefully.

I pulled a treat out of my inventory and tossed it behind my shoulder.  I heard a chomp anyway.  “Nothing but tummy?”

“Of course,” said Shade, licking his lips.

“You have one open core slot at the moment, and your class core can handle another aspect if you see something interesting,” said Spivy.

“You are just going to let me pick, coach,” I asked.

“I’ll poke you if you pick stupid,” said Spivy.

“How much money do we have,” I asked.

“You know how much you have,” said Spivy.

“Fine, Shade, how much did you loot off of the corpses,” I asked.

“Fourty two gold pieces, which should be lots of treats,” said Shade.

“That’s almost as much as the quest was worth,” I said.

“And Shade isn’t very good at looting,” said Spivy.  “If he was, you’d have gotten half again more.”

“We are loaded,” said Shade.  “We can go on the biggest walk ever!”

I looked around, getting my bearings.  The tall trees combined with the massive amounts of greenage made keeping track of your position slightly challenging but I was getting better at it.  I had my map up in the corner of my vision, but it was in 2d and that was a lot less useful here than one would expect.  My map didn’t even show north.

“I need to get a better mapper,” I grumbled.

“That is a low tier unit, we’ll look around,” said Spivy scanning the area.  I followed her gaze then stopped.

“Him,” I hissed loudly at an elf hiding on the second story of a large tree.

Shade looked over and sniffed, “Was that the elf that pushed you off the crossing?”

“Vengeance,” I hissed.

Shade snorted, “Yes, he tried to hurt my chum.  We need to bite him in the butt.”

“He’s a hero,” said Spivy, eyeing him carefully.

“He’s an asshole, he tried to kill me,” I replied, trying to figure out what to do.  The elf was obviously watching something, but I couldn’t gather what.  Every so often he moved position slightly, heading up or down the branch while trying to be inconspicuous.  He blended in with the other elves, but I recognized his red and yellow cape.

“What’s the plan,” asked Shade.

“I don’t know,” I replied.  It was one thing to see your enemy before you, another to do something about him when he was much more powerful than you.  Also, he was just looking at stuff instead of doing something overtly evil, and I doubted any meeting with the local police force would go my way.  I realized that I was probably going to have to let this go, even if I didn’t want to until I noticed the intent expression on Spivy’s face.  “Coach?”

“Shade, find out which elf he’s looking for, hurry, you don't need to be stealthy about it, just don’t get close,” said Spivy.  Shade nodded and trotted off in the direction the caped asshole was looking.

“How do you know he’s looking for an elf,” I asked.

“Because he's an agent of the Domagal and she’s only concerned with the king’s agents at the moment,” said Spivy.

“And he’s enough of a racist to only have elven agents,” I said.  I didn’t fully understand all the terms, but I knew enough of them.  The king would of course only hire elven adventurers to be his agents.  “But is Lady Domagal as bad in her attitude towards humans?”

“Almost, that’s one of the few things they agree on,” said Spivy, looking around.  “I can get you to him, I don’t know what you’re going to be able to do when we get there.”

I nodded and Spivy directed me.  We quickly moved to the next tree over and moved up the branch.  She was excellent at knowing when the elf was looking for his target versus just looking around making sure he wasn’t noticed.  This allowed me to close the distance with him easily, though I wasn’t sure what good that was going to do.

Fortunately, with all the humans around I kind of blended in and the few times he looked in my direction he didn't seem to notice me.  There was such a mishmash of people that he didn’t even stand out very much.  He was just another blond elf.  In fact, if it wasn’t for that cape I’m pretty sure I would have missed him.

Finally, I got to a section of the branch on my trunk that overlooked his branch.  I was within attack range, and now that I was my core was warning me that it was a terrible idea.

“He’s really strong,” I hissed.

“Agents get a boon from their patron, it mostly makes up for the fact that they don’t adventure anymore,” said Spivy as she peered over the edge.  “That combined with only hiring the best means that on average an agent is more than a match for an adventurer of similar rank one on one.”

“They are doing pvp rather than pve,” I realized.

Spivy glared at me, “Player vs Player rather than player versus environment?  I hate that I know these words though that’s pretty accurate.  Some adventurers are better equipped for fighting other people, but there are some adventurers who are so specialized in slaying monsters that they are next to worthless against adventurers.”

“Like a goblin slayer,” I asked.

“That would be stupid,” said Spivy.  “Goblins are messy, weak creatures.  No one sane would devote their life to fighting those creatures.”

“What if they weren’t sane,” I asked.

“Then they’d call everyone by their class title and never take off their helmet,” said Spivy dismissively.

“That does sound kind of weird,” I said, trying to figure out what to do.  The closer I got, the dumber an idea this was.

“There,” said Spivy, gesturing towards an elven woman leaving a shop called ‘Ritual Requirements’.  She was obviously armed and leaving a fletcher.  “She’s one of Rogen’s agents, Sylanada Quickbow.”

“That’s amazing, how do you know that…” I began before realizing.  “You have a power that just lets you read people’s names.”

“Part of the advantages of having a system fairy as your guide,” replied Spivy.

“Why is she in a ritual shop,” I asked, unsure.  I really didn’t know what a mythical agent did for funsies.

“She works for Domagal, probably looking for something for her,” said Spivy.

I was about to ask another question when Sylanada glanced around and then captain asshole ducked behind some cover.  She quickly moved to a curiosity shop and he popped out looking for a new place to hide.  “Now what to do with our target.”

“I can’t fight him,” I said.

“Certainly not,” said Spivy.  “I’m trying to think of a trick we could play.”

“A trick,” I asked, mortified.  “I don’t want to trick him, I want to kill him.”

“Well, it is a trick or nothing,” said Spivy.

“Tricks are good, anything to get my vengeance,” I said, pathetically.  I didn’t have anything that I could vengeance properly with.  All I had of note were those bottles of alchemist fire that set really quickly.

“Do you know where he is going to set up?” I asked.

Spivy looked around and then pointed, “He’ll end up there if she’s going where I think she’s going.”

“I need a distraction,” I said looking over at the opposite branch.  It was a bit of a jump, but I thought I could probably make it.

Spivy nodded and suddenly I heard Shade bark.  He ran over to Sylanada, barking happily.  The stern faced elf glared down at him for about two second before caving.  She bent over and started scratching.

I took the moment to leap from my branch to the branch over major jerkface, easily clearing the distance.  I ran and jumped a lot before I came here, so I had a good appreciation of what my capabilities were.  Further, I started from a place where I hiked very regularly, so I could be by myself.

Coming here wasn’t some massive exercise program where I finally got off the couch.  I may have lived in my recliner during the week, but on weekends I was very physically active to the point of hurting myself.  Because pain was my friend and kept memories of my ex-wife away.

The key point here is that I jumped farther than I ever had before in my life, and it wasn’t even remotely close.  I sailed through the air expecting to barely make the branch.  I not only cleared the edge, I landed well onto it.

“Sweet,” I muttered.  Being an adventurer was awesome.  Quickly I moved to where the jerkwad was going to hide next and poured out a vial of the sticky black liquid.  It matched the color of the bark if one was generous and hopefully distracted.  Then I moved away to hide while Shade stopped being cute.

Sylanada shrugged as the cute mutant doat left her and after a moment she reminded herself of her purpose and moved into a second shop.  Stupid face quickly moved to his next hide, which was where Spivy indicated.  He got comfortable and waited for a few seconds while she did her business.

I watched Shade, he sat down in front of the store Seymour style, waiting.  We didn’t have to wait long and Sylandastepped out and scanned the area.  That was the point I made my move, I walked over to the prick.

“Hey, you tried to kill me,” I yelled loudly enough that the whole plaza could hear me.

He sneered at me, ready to spit back some vile when he realized Sylanda was now looking straight at him.  The color fled from his face.

“Oh, that’s mean, she’s gonna kill him,” said Spivy.

“I sure hope so,” I replied.

“She’s Mythical,” said Spivy as she watched the elves stare at each other.  Sylanda was looking like a hunter that spotted a rabbit.  Meanwhile, Moron the ugly rabbit looked doomed.

“So he has as much of a chance of killing her as I have a chance of killing him,” I said as the caped jerk tried to run, only to discover that his boots were glued firmly to the branch.  He glared at me and wiggled his feet for a moment.

“In case this ever comes up, if your equipment is bound then you can’t just remove it or put it into inventory,” said Spivy as Rabbit started removing his boots with alacrity.  He had them off in less than five seconds and leaped off the branch to the ground just as Sylanada landed on the branch not five feet from me.

“You are fast,” I said, seeing as she’d just ran something like fifty yards in five seconds.

She eyed me for a moment, so I pointed in the direction he’d run off.  She smirked and started running after him.

“Any chance he’s going to get away clean,” I asked.

“No,” said Spivy.  “He’s going to be lucky to live ten more minutes.”

“Neat,” I said, grabbing the boots.  They were not going anywhere.  “The lesson of the day is don’t throw me into traffic.”

Snorting, I walked into the shardsmith.  I had to duck to get into the doorway, but the ceiling was at least tall enough that I could stand straight if I was careful.  And carefully chose my spots.

There were only a few cases in the establishment, and those were full of shards and aspects that were of local utility.  There was even a botanist core nestled in the back corner.  The shop was too large for this to be all of the stock, and I glanced at a doorway to the back as a halfling walked through.  Behind the shop was a much bigger stockroom, and I quickly gathered that most of these shards were sent to the city where they would fetch higher prices.

The portly halfling stepped up to the counter.  He was short for a halfling which is a polite way of saying tiny.  The small man looked up at me, shaking his head full of red curly hair and he pulled over a small ladder.  He climbed it, his blue shirt full of brass buttons tinkling while he climbed.

“Are you the Dude?” he said when he reached the top.  He sounded like he was from the Gnarly forest.

“No, only one man is the Dude,” I replied.  “I’m simply a dude who needs some shards.”

“I can help you with that, the name is Bobbins,” said the shardsmith, eyeing my furry pal.

“Max, and that’s my companion Shade,” I replied.

“Companion, well, then I trust he will behave himself,” said Bobbins.

“I will indeed,” replied Shade, causing Bobbins to start.

He looked at Shade for a long moment, “Your mutant doat can talk?”

“Yes, he’s technically a dog and every dog I’ve encountered on this world so far can talk,” I stated.  That was true, Shade could talk.

“Interesting, not many talking companions,” said Bobbins.

“Even fewer dogs,” I replied looking down at the counter, which was waist high for a halfling.  In other words, I would have had to bend over to really check out the stock but my essence control was improving and I could easily pick out the tags from this distance.

“I see you are thinking about picking up a life aspect,” said Bobbins, sliding over to that section of the counter.  “They will grant you a minor improvement to your class's health regeneration as well as the ability to manipulate life mana if you are inclined to cast spells.”

“Interesting,” I said looking at the crystal.  It was green and looked as if it had grown there.  “How much?”

“I don’t usually sell to individuals.  In the elven markets this would be 100 gold, but I’m a little heavy on stock, I’d let it go for 60,” said Bobbins.

“That's a pretty big discount,” I said.

“Rogen always gets his share in Dominus,” said Bobbins. “But, no one cares about Gimpwuld as long as we remain quiet.”

“Elves,” I said.

Bobbins snorted, “Of course.  They don’t like us but they need the imports.  I can only sell wholesale here as most of my stock is typically called for, but as the champion of Qualus, I can see my way to helping you, for a price of course.”

“Word already got back to Dominus,” I asked.

“Of course, you were the dude who swung in and killed the bugbear, and some doats but seriously the tale of your battle was epic,” said Bobbins.

“Dude,” I replied.

“You don’t need to retell it,” said Bobbins gesturing towards his stock.

I was seriously considering the aspect when I felt someone poke me.  “You’ll be a healer.”

“Was that your mutant doat,” asked Bobbins.

“Of course,” I replied.  “If I put a life aspect on my core, what would happen?”

Bobbins shrugged, “You’d become a healer, that’s a noble profession.  You’ll be the first to get called out on quests.  You get to stay in the back and be well protected.  No danger for you, and no one is busier than the healer.”

Shade looked horrified, “You will be working all the time?”

That was a nightmare, a working vacation.  Damn you Angela.

“Nope,” I replied flatly.  “What else you got?”

“That’s a good price,” said Bobbins.

“I’m here to kick ass and take names, not go around healing people continuously.  What else do you have,” I asked.

“We’re a shard shop supplied by the gnarly forest, everything I have is one step removed from life mana,” said Bobbins as he deflated.

“Got anything for airships,” I asked.

Bobbins looked at me for a moment, “You are in a tree farm shard shop looking for airship skills.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” I said.

“I mean, I have an alchemist skill core, you could probably do something with that,” said Bobbins, “Let me go into the back and fetch it.  The person picking it up is late.”

Bobbins left the shop and I considered leaving, then again I had all those chemical weapons.  “Spivy, explain what a skill core is.”

Spivy’s wings fluttered involuntarily, “You didn’t.”

“Please.”

Spivy looked to the heavens and then smiled broadly at me, “I understand you want to learn about skill cores!  Skill cores allow an adventurer to fully master a profession.  Unlike skill shards or aspects, skill cores will evolve as you develop allowing you to tailor them to your needs.  An alchemy core could be used to develop helpful potions, or fuel for an airship.”

“That sounds fun,” I said, interrupting Spivy.

“You are lucky I love to talk,” said the system fairy as she got back on track.  “As a human, you have the ability to accept one skill core to augment your work as an adventurer.”

“That sounds useful,” I said.

Spivy fluttered there and then landed back in my hood.  “Yup, super helpful.  That’s what I’d pick.  I even know a recipe for alchemical dog treats that will have Shade begging for them.”

“That’s nice,” I said.

“All the time,” said Spivy wickedly.

At that moment Bobbins walked back out holding a small box with eighty gold pieces written on it.  He glanced at it then glanced at me, “Look, you helped the town and I mark these things up significantly.  I can let it go for fifty.”

“How about forty,” I bartered.

“How about fifty,” said Bobbins flatly.

Check failed.

“Do you like gold, or silver,” I asked and started counting out coins.

I left Bobbin’s shop fifty gold lighter and holding an Alchemy skill core.  Like all cores it was small, spherical and over priced.  I glanced at it, trying to see the system prompting information about it but getting nothing but gibberish.

“So no other useful shards in there,” I grumbled, thinking if I should absorb the core now or give it some time.  A quick glance over at Shade, who was busy playing with all of the children of many different races told me that I wouldn’t be leaving here any time soon.

“It was a halfling shard shop, I wasn’t expecting much and certainly not a weapons core.  The alchemy skill core is top notch though,” said Spivy as I surreptitiously brought the core up to my ear and she snatched it.  From her hiding place in my hood I heard her oohing and awing.

“So not all skill cores are of the same quality,” I asked.

“Heavens no,” said Spivy.  “The Alchemy skill is going to be there, of course, but different races value different skills when it comes to just how you do the alchemy.  Elves favor more farming to breed up just the right herbs, which works if you are stationary and have a lot of time.  Goblins, on the other hand, value taking whatever is at hand and making due even if a potion has a few negative aspects mixed in with the benefits.”

“And halflings,” I asked.

“They also take what they can get, but their view on Alchemy is that it should generally be beneficial with the fewest possible negative aspects.  Often that means none, but they have some recipes that will cause weakness when recovering essence quickly, or a potent healing potion that exhausts you after it is completed.”

“I had not considered that,” I said.

“Alright, adventurer,” said Spivy in a commanding tone.  “First hit that stand over there, buy every kind of potion you can.  Then we’ll go find a bench and activate your skill core.”

“And I’m buying the alchemy potions to… sample them?” I asked.

“Clever,” replied Spivy.  “You should be able to learn bits and pieces about how the potions are made from sampling them, also most of them are delicious and Shade is going to be a while.”

Shade was in the middle of the largest game of fetch I had ever seen.

I walked next to a potion stand.  The bespeckled gnome doing the selling was busy with another customer.  Gnomes and halflings were about the same height, but there was just something thicker about a gnome that let you tell the difference at a glance.  He was also wearing a short, pointed cap that seemed to be almost part of his uniform.  More importantly, even at a casual glance I could tell he had potions from a variety of different sources.

“Yup, for most adventurers Elven healing potions are the gold standard,” said Spivy.  “Even other races will use elven formula when selling healing potions for the most part because few people are looking for the other kinds.”

“So elven potions means the formula, not the crafter,” I asked.

“Got it in one,” replied Spivy.

I spotted a thick glass bottle and lifted it up.

“Ah, that’s an orcish healing potion, brings the fire of Mock when you drink it,” said the gnome.  “Handy for adventurers like yourself.  I also have a few halfling potions of recovery as well as a gnomish mana draught.”

Recovery potions were less potent initially, but allowed your body to recover over a span of hours if you drank one.  They were generally something one drank before going to bed to feel fully recovered the next day, at least according to Spivy.

I bought every potion I could.  Most were cheaper than the elven potions and I found that you could never have too many.  I spotted several red vials and gestured at those.

“You found my stock of special endurance potions,” said the gnome.

“I could use some of those, I’ll take all twelve,” I said.

“All twelve,” said the gnome, “Do you have a date?”

“With two elves,” I said.  “We are going to play ‘the innocent elven maiden’.”

“Oh, well at least that makes sense.  I’ll throw in an extra potent centaur recovery position,” said the gnome.  “Those are the strongest recovery potions I have in stock.  You’ll need it.”

Innocent elven maiden sounded more fun than I initially thought.

Taking my haul of potions into my inventory was easier now that I had the alchemy bag.  It worked on potions and processed ingredients, so all of the potions fit easily.  I sat down in a shaded area that was easy to hide in.  I also came with free boots if I could remove them.  Meanwhile Shade chased a centaur who was throwing around a ball.

Shade vanished and appeared mid air, catching the ball and then landed facing the opposite direction before tearing off.  The centaur youth spun around more quickly than I expected and hauled after him with an elven child sprinting next to him.

The disturbing part there was that for a moment the elf actually out paced him, something I couldn’t have managed no matter how much essence I used.  Shade wasn’t faster than that, though it was close.  He was trickier and poofed away as the elf got close.

Then a halfling girl appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the ball before tossing it over to the centaur.  He turned and ran in the direction he’d been running initially and everyone gave a merry chase.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” I said.

“They are playing ball,” said Spivy.

“Because you have no idea either and they have a ball,” I replied.  Spivy looked at the field for a long moment.

“Just absorb the skill core,” said Spivy with a sigh and I grabbed the small orb.  Concentrating for a moment, I filled the orb with my essence which caused it to drop abruptly into my hand.  I coughed several times as the skill core.

“Hey, I didn’t bur…” I almost managed before I belched again.  It wasn’t as profound as the last one, but still I could feel it in my toes.  They stopped the game briefly, but then Shade grabbed the ball and it was back on.

“I still don’t know why humans do that,” said Spivy.

“So what skills did I gain,” I said holding up a healing potion.  I suddenly knew it was a moderate elven healing potion, which meant it was capable of dealing with a moderate injury.  Those entailed non-serious wounds, essentially wounds that didn’t compromise your organs too badly.

“So you gained the Alchemy skill, obviously,” said Spivy from her spot in my hood.  “You also gained a Tasting ability, Taste Potion.  As well as Herbalism(Forest).  That means you have the herbalism skill, but it is focused on the forest.  We can find skill shards for the various areas and integrate them with your core as we move to other areas.”

“I know some recipes for halfling potions and a few elven ones,” I said.

“Those are imprints from the alchemist the skill was copied off of,” said Spivy.  “Skill cores are not usually as clean as a class core, so they do have some trappings of whomever it was copied off of.  It won’t affect your personality, but when you go to make a potion you are going to be emulating the person who’s skill was copied.”

“Wouldn’t that be a halfling,” I said.  “I’ll be too big.”

“You’ll adjust easily enough, but if that wasn’t done you wouldn’t have the muscle memory to use a mortar and pestle properly.”

“It conveys muscle memory,” I said and brought my hands up pretending to have the tools.  I knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to grind up herbs without crushing them to pulp.  “Oh, that’s trippy.”

“The muscle memory isn’t that much different than your spear skill,” said Spivy.

“It is, I knew how to hold a pole before, I didn’t know how to do any of this,” I said, focusing on other aspects of alchemy.  “But I can live with it.”

“Taste one,” said Spivy and I did so, dropping out a single drop of the potion onto my tongue.  Potions were interesting in that you had to consume the majority of the potion for it to take effect, and when you did so the potency of the whole potion dropped massively.

In effect you could drink 51% of a potion and get the full benefit of the potion, but the remaining 49% of the potion would be essentially worthless.

I asked Spivy about that and she had a simple response, “It is magic, stupid.”

In any case, tasting a potion allowed my alchemy skill to figure out how it was made.  I could detect hints of several kinds of local flowers in the potion, and that some of the flowers had been pressed to preserve them before use while others had been boiled.

I didn’t know the exact formula, but I could probably figure it out with a good supply of the ingredients.

“That’s amazing,” I said.

“Good, you also gained an improvement to your stamina, because the skill shard was made with a life aspect,” said Spivy.  “You can’t generate mana, but the efficiency of your stamina recovery has moved up to high mortal.”

“You are going to need to explain that,” I said as I cycled my essence through my body, trying to feel the difference.  Something was off, but I couldn’t quite place what.

“You know you can push essence into your physical body to improve your performance,” said Spivy.  “Generally, humans are capable of low mortal tier manipulation of all of their attributes.”

“So I can make myself stronger, faster, and even see better?” I said.

“Sight is just an attribute,” said Spivy.  “The bonuses you have are low mortal tier, or I guess below average for a mortal tier, but humans can do all of them.”

“And dwarves can’t do dexterity, and halflings can’t do strength,” I said.

“Yes, but dwarves can naturally do endurance up to the high mortal tier, and elves can do everything up to high mortal tier,” said Spivy.  “Your class let you do most of your physical attributes up all the way to the mortal tier as well, which is why a class core is so important for humans.”

“And with this skill core, I now have the stamina of a dwarf,” I said.

“Yes,” said Spivy.  “As long as you are putting essence into that attribute, you are going to be able to hang with dwarves, and any other race that has high mortal tier stamina.”

“I still don’t quite understand what low mortal tier means for attributes like intelligence,” I said.

“The old trick is to try to do math, or memorize something while using essence and without using essence,” said Spivy.  “You are going to find that it is much easier to memorize a poem using essence, but when you take away the essence the memory will fade pretty quickly.”

“I need to find something for willpower then,” I said.

“Yeah,” replied Spivy uncomfortably.  “Those are harder to find, but we can look.”

“Where would you find one,” I asked.

“There are some shops,” said Spivy, but there was a catch in her voice.

“Spivy, where could I find a place that sells something that would help me with willpower,” I asked formally.

She twitched.  “You know I have to answer when you ask like that.”

“I wish you’d done it before,” I said.

“The Auction House frequently has rare aspects and cores that would grant you bonuses to your willpower attribute,” said Spivy.

“We should go there, then,” I said.  “My essence is overly consumed by my willpower, and getting something to improve that would help my survival.”

“But then you have to go to the auction house, it is in the center of the highborn district,” said Spivy.  “There is a lot of security there, we’d have to come up with a way to get you there.”

“And that sounds like it could be dangerous,” I said.

“Yes,” replied Spivy.  “I’ll take you after the conjunction is over.”

“That’s all you needed to say,” I replied.

“Seriously,” replied Spivy.

“Yeah, I’m on vacation, I don’t need all the details,” I said as I poured a mixture of two potions onto the boots.  Then through the magic of alchemy and the power of determination, I tore the boots free from the muck.

“Those are elven tree climbing boots, with a life aspect,” said Spivy.  “They will synergize well with your new skill core.  You can walk on bridges over roads now without fear of falling.”

“This is a great day,” I said  standing up and waving, “Speaking of which…”

Vicky and Aria both spotted me at the same moment as I felt Spivy hopping off my neck.   The elven ladies began walking quickly, very quickly, and then sprinting towards me.  Vicky started closer and reached me first.

“The concert was canceled, I think we should get ready for our date tonight,” said Vicky.

Aria pouted for a moment, then shrugged, “It would be so much fun, Max.  Do you like to eat?”

“You know I do,” I replied, sticking out my arms for the girls to take, after all if one had two willing girlfriends one should take advantage of the situation.  The elves shrugged, and both grabbed my by and elbow before lifting me and walking purposefully towards another elven plaza.