Within a few hours of Ambrose’s rampage throughout the city, the young woman found herself in a cart, much like before, though this one had a tarp covering the seating in the back and seemed made for longer distance travel. There were even cushions on the benches to keep passengers comfortable on the long ride.
Henric sat across from her again, and while his eyes had been roaming her body rudely enough during their first ride to the keep, now they looked almost greedily over her, as though he wanted nothing more than to find a way to cage and use her. It was getting to be quite annoying as he wasn't even trying to be subtle about the stares. It seemed like the only thing keeping him from making an absolute fool of himself was the Scion who sat not two seats away from him.
The scion, Lyssandrea, sat with her heavy two-hander at her side, her legs crossed as she observed Ambrose with bemused interest. The first hour the two of them spent together was spent making an apology to the city and its guards for the uproar and the injuries Ambrose had caused. It was only after those profuse apologies that Ambrose was escorted to the cart she now sat in and the journey to the kingdom began.
Soon Grimwater would be a memory, not Ambrose's reality. But for now, its presence was fresh in her mind, and she couldn't help but mentally review the entire situation. Part of her was extremely embarrassed with how emotional she had gotten, how confused and unprepared she had been to see that M rank next to her class. It had taken her so far off kilter that she hadn't even considered the consequences her escape may have had on her village. She had just been desperate to get away.
Even before gaining Guidance, she had planned on staying in the city and joining the guild if she had been fortunate enough for a B of C rank class, so that she could send money back to the village. Instead, she had been floored by her own good fortune and completely forgotten her own plans.
Now that she had her wits about her, she understood that her plans had barely changed at all. It was likely the royal academy would offer her some form of stipend, and she could send some of that home. Or, if not, she could simply take up some form of side work and earn her keep that way, especially with this new potency she seemed to have attained. And she could always send letters back to the village until she was able to return.
With clear hindsight, it was plainly embarrassing that she had caused so much trouble in the keep. If she hadn't had an M rank class, she was fairly certain the consequences would not have been so easily tossed aside either. High rankers were given a lot of leniency for their contributions to the kingdom. She knew this from simple word of mouth. And the fact that that word of mouth had made it all the way to her little village of “monsters” only lent the credibility of that knowledge more gravity.
The only good thing that had come of her little panic attack in the city had been a pair of level ups, which had caught the young woman off guard. Part of her had expected that Guidance would only provide her experience for fighting monsters in dungeons or beyond the cities. Yet the challenge she had presented the city had apparently been worth enough to push her to level three. Here, in a cart with two people whose attention was obviously on her, she found it beyond tempting to just focus on the changes presented by her own level up. And once it became clear to her that neither of them were going to be forthcoming with their thoughts, she decided to give in to that urge if only to focus on something new and spare herself the awkward situation.
Her Status had changed, and so she reviewed everything she had gained with a keen eye.
Ambrose Di
Class : Mystic Bestiary
Rank : M
Race (current) : Human
Level : 3
Adaptive Might : 10 + 2(pending)
Adaptive Virility : 15 + 2(pending)
Adaptive Nimbleness : 12 + 2(pending)
Adaptive Comprehension : 15
Adaptive Discernment : 16 + 2(pending)
Adaptive Potency : 18 + 2(pending)
Class Abilities: Bestiary of Forms
Bestiary of Forms:
Bestiary may freely shift between a number of forms dictated by their level.
Forms Chosen [2/3]
Catfolk - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items
Lambda - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - Shield
New Forms Available. Please choose a new form.
New growths available, 6. Please distribute growths before changes apply.
Racial Abilities: None
Skills: None
Congratulations. You have leveled up. Your class allows natural growth in Might, Virility, Nimbleness, Discernment, and Potency per level. You may apply 3 extra growths per level to further empower your status.
The messages at the bottom of her status gave Ambrose pause. Ambrose had never heard of anything like this before. Though it was common for the humanoid races protected by Guidance to simply learn after they achieved their awakening. Something told her that most common folk would learn or be given a pamphlet on what to expect when Guidance leveled them up in the days following their awakening. Leveling up during the same hour as their awakening would likely never happen to someone who wasn't foolish enough to go and get into a town wide entanglement immediately after getting their class. And even if they were as foolish as she had been in her panic, the likelihood that they wouldn't be detained immediately was so low as to be non-existent.
Taking a deep breath, she turned her face to the Scion and started working to acquire what information she lacked. “Scion?” She asked, quirking her head to the side to shift her bangs and get a better look at the mighty woman.
The warrior arched an elegant brow at her and then smirked, shaking her head. “Scion is my royal militant title and class, not my name, Ambrose. It also poorly represents our dynamic. We are going to be teacher and student very soon. Such titles are far too lofty for the relationship we will be nurturing. Call me teacher, or Professor Gulfrig if the need for formality is strong in you,” the mighty woman corrected Ambrose.
The girl paused to think about that, and then nodded. Choosing to maintain formality, she continued. “Yes, Professor Gulfrig. I will do so. I had some questions about my status?”
“Ask,” Lyssandrea replied with a nod, straightening up in her seat.
Ambrose hesitated for a moment, glancing at Henric, who was obviously going to listen in on anything she said. Then she sighed and put the reluctance she felt aside. She needed answers before she proceeded.
“I leveled up during our time in the keep,” she admitted, though she was careful not to give all of the details. “Now I have statistics that say… pending?”
Lyssandrea’s eyes widened in acknowledgement of the question and then she smiled as she recognized what Ambrose was describing. “That is a helpful function of Guidance. It prevents your stats from changing until you decide to apply your Growth,” Lyssandrea explained. Just that much was enough to get Ambrose’s brain moving.
The theory was, likely, that Guidance prevented an awakened from leveling up in combat in order to prevent the Awakened from making mistakes while trying to adjust to more potent statistics than they were used to. A sudden additional bulk from an increase of strength or a burst of unnatural speed could certainly cause a person to miss, or worse, move into an attack they would have normally narrowly dodged. Sudden influxes of stats during combat could possibly be the death of an unprepared adventurer. So Guidance held the statistics back until the awakened settled into increasing their own abilities.
“But what if you need the extra power during the fight?” Henric asked with a frown, proposing the question immediately. “I’d hate to miss out on the bonus strength to end the fight immediately,” he said, finally taking his eyes off of Ambrose to look at the scion.
“I wouldn’t personally recommend making a split second decision based on a level gain in the middle of combat,” Lyssandrea said with a shrug, looking over to the boy. “The changes wrought upon your body are permanent, and a sudden decision to dump all of the growth you would be normally given into one stat in a desperate pull to destroy an enemy could just as quickly come back to harm you.”
“How?” the boy asked while Ambrose put the idea of distributing her growths to her mind.
“Well, think about it. Let's say you are an adventurer with a team you’re responsible for keeping safe. Henric, your class is Ruthless Warrior. I haven’t seen too many of its like, but I have seen a few. Your strength will be tremendous even by the time you reach level 10, which is around the time we teachers of the academy would begin sending you out on solo missions to train. While leveling slows tremendously after your Class advancement at level 20 or 25, you won’t count as a full graduate until you’re in your low thirties, which is the point where going off on your own is the best way for you to learn and grow while continuing to aid the kingdom,” the Scion began, obviously ready to move into a rather long winded explanation.
Henric nodded, seeming to follow along well enough with what Lyssandrea was saying, even if it hadn’t really gone anywhere yet. “Your strength will put you at the head of the group, into the danger of the fight. You won’t have many methods of healing yourself outside of the potions afforded you by your own purchases and perhaps a regeneration skill to slowly bring you back to health over time. These will increase your chances of survival, but what you will truly need to fully achieve your greatness while slaying monsters is a steady healer who can make sure you survive the counter attacks and magical maladies of the beasts opposing you,” she continued, watching the boy nod along. “Let’s say you are embroiled in a fight with a drakeling, a lesser baby dragon who is normally only challenged in the late thirties by an experienced group. Your strength will be well in the 100s and decently above that of a normal warrior of that level to boot. Almost twice as much. You will rend scales and cleave jagged fissures into your enemy if you can catch them.”
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Henric seemed overjoyed by her explanation. The praise the Scion gave to his class had the boy giddy on his own power. Ambrose couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, wondering where Professor Gulfrig was leading the poor fool.
While she listened to the two of them, she chose to divide her six points of growth to try and take some advantage in the places where her new forms would excel, gaining 2 additional points in her nimbleness to enhance her catfolk form. She planned on taking the merfolk form if it was still available in her new form choices, remembering how nice it would have been to escape along the aqueducts rather than fight all of those soldiers. So she gained a point in comprehension. Lastly she put 3 points, an entire level’s worth, into her Virility to further increase the heartiness of her defensive form. If push came to shove, she wanted to be as close to impervious as possible to her enemies if she was forced to stand and defend herself rather than to escape.
“The caveat to that statement is that you catching the enemy is a strong if,” the teacher said, finally beginning to rain on the little parade that Henric had been building himself. “Drakelings are known to not only be strong, but clever and nimble creatures. If one sees you chasing it with a sword, it is far more likely to try and smother you in a gout of flame than it is to get in close and try to bite, or slash at you. While you chase it, the creature might choose to run laps around you to get to your healer. What will you need to help them?” the Scion asked, proposing a question to the boy.
Henric frowned at that, trying to find a solution. “Uh… I’d need to be faster?”
“That is one solution, yes. A thrown weapon may also aid you, like a hatchet, or even a small boulder. Now, let’s say that you leveled up at some point during the fighting before the drakeling appeared. Your healer is being set upon by a fire breathing lizard the size of this cart. And the monster has murder in its eyes. It’s ready to pounce on your source of healing, to kill them before slowly picking you off and whittling you down to exhaustion before killing you with no mercy. You, thinking that you need to be faster, throw points into your agility. Most classes gain five points of Growth upon leveling up, and warriors naturally gain an agility every level. So we’ll be kind and say you were very prudent in your spending and put another point into agility each level putting you in your 70s for agility. Do you have a special agility or dexterity statistic? “
“Uh.. No. I have Relentless Might and Tireless Vigor,” Henric admitted, letting her know both of his special stats. Ambrose found it interesting that he had two, when their last cart partner had said A rank classes usually only gained one special statistic, but she inwardly shrugged. ‘Usually’ did not mean the same thing as ‘always’.
“Then you will be mightier and sturdier than most any other warrior your teammates could find. But you will likely barely be significantly faster than your healer if they choose to run away. You certainly will not be fast enough to catch the beast before it gets to them. So, you throw all of your points into agility, and suddenly you are notably faster, each step brings you closer to where your poor healer is being mauled. But it’s not enough, and speed is not your most powerful stat by a long shot. You close in and cut into the beast, leaving a large wound, but not before the monster finishes your healer. Now it turns on you, scrambling out of the reach of your weapon and beginning to hurt you from a distance. It’s too fast to be caught, and every time it slows, it blasts you with fire, stacking up your wounds while no one is there to restore your strength.”
Henric seemed beyond unhappy with that notion. “In that situation, how would increasing no stats or increasing another stat have helped?” he asked, looking genuinely for a way to correct the situation in his head.
The scion smiled warmly at him, reaching out and ruffling his hair, which seemed to pull him away from his dark thoughts, even for a moment. “Simply remembering to bring thrown weapons would turn the tide of the situation. If the beast cannot outrun you and cannot pause for long enough to murder your healer, you can take your time getting in the hits that count on the monster. Once the drakeling is no longer a threat you can further increase your tankiness and power so that in the next fight you put out even more hurt to your enemies.”
Henric nodded at that, seeming to take the mental note seriously. “Okay. So, I should have thrown weapons to deal with enemies who threaten my healer,” he said aloud, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than to anyone else in the cart.
“Let’s not forget that you will likely be adventuring with a party,” Lyssandrea added, with a smile, now that he was thinking. “There will likely be more people to help you pin down and hurt the monsters than just a healer. So you will have allies to help protect the healer. Making a rash decision to add on speed to your statistics in that case is likely even worse, because a smart adventurer will take on team mates who make up for the areas where their class is weak. Like having someone to deal with faster, more flighty enemies.”
Ambrose found to her pleasant delight that the list of forms available to her were simply the same one she had seen before but lacking the options she had chosen earlier. That meant Holstaurus, Goblin, and Merfolk were up for grabs. Ambrose made her choice almost immediately, gaining the Merfolk form with a broad smile as she broadened her abilities.
With all of her choices made, Ambrose felt a definite surge in her body. She rolled her shoulders, feeling as though she had just gotten out of a massage and someone had popped her back for her. She felt stronger and denser, yet altogether lighter and more capable. Her body was bursting with life and energy. And she felt wide awake and alert all of a sudden, rather than the general sense of mild exhaustion she had felt earlier. The increase in her statistics certainly had her entire body feeling renewed and empowered.
While she was fairly certain she hadn’t changed much physically, Lyssandrea seemed to notice almost immediately that something had changed about her. It was a little unnerving to find that she couldn’t even level up without the Scion picking up on the change.
“Leveled up?” she asked, waiting for a nod from Ambrose before smiling and continuing. “You seem healthy… so at least one upgrade in vitality. Was there any new skill gained?”
Ambrose shook her head at that. She honestly hadn’t gained a new skill, and part of her wanted to keep the merfolk form a secret until she couldn’t any longer. The less people knew about her abilities the more secure she felt at the moment. While Lyssandrea hadn’t attacked her, she wasn’t necessarily an ally.
“Shame. I was hoping you’d gain a crucial class skill at level 2. But it’s more common for high rank classes to get those skills at level 5 and 10,” she sighed, but rather than looking away or dropping the conversation, she seemed eager to continue. “I won’t ask you to tell me your stats. That’s in poor form for anyone but a person on your long term team to ask you. And it's best not to give the information away for free either. But I do have some questions about your other forms. They were impressive and physically distinct from you now. I’d like you to tell me about them. That way I can try and find some other instructors who can aid you when we get to the academy.”
Ambrose paused at that, thinking about it for a long moment before nodding. It made sense to her on some level, and showing off the two forms she was known to have already would do no harm, as they had already been seen in action. “What do you want to know?”
“From what I understand of the druidic shifter classes, their stats change when they shift. Did you check to see if your stats had shifted when you were changing forms in Grimwater?” Lyssandrea asked Ambrose.
Ambrose shook her head, not sure she would have even thought to look at her stat sheet while shifted during that chase. “I was panicking and didn’t think to look at my sheet,” she explained.
“Would you mind confirming or disproving the notion for me? It only would need to be one of your forms,” the Professor asked, seeming genuinely interested to know if her knowledge held up in the case of an M Rank class. Ambrose couldn’t deny that she was also interested, and so she nodded.
Glancing back at her newly changed sheet, Ambrose confirmed each of her ‘Adaptive’ stats before taking a deep breath and shifting again into the form of a Catfolk. As before the shift was a thing of near immediacy. One moment, she was the young human woman she had always been. The next she was a little, slender feline humanoid with tantalizing curvature, clawed fingers, feline ears and tail, and clothed only in silken wraps to gird the most essential parts of her body.
Immediately her senses sharpened and she became very aware of everything in the room, both by way of smell and sight. The lengthening shadows cast by the lowering sun did nothing to deter her vision and she noticed small trinkets beneath the benches she hadn't before, even in full light. She noticed a growing scent flowing off of Henric as he sat transfixed, staring at her body, his eyes roaming skin in slow, deliberate scans that told her he was trying to ingrain her into his memory.
Her nose picked up hints of something similar flowing off of Lyssandrea, though the Scion's scent was mostly clean and her facial expression seemed to imply bemused interest and embarrassment more than anything else. Rather than dwell on the two of them, she turned her attention back to her stat sheet, looking for changes. She was both shocked and pleased to find them.
Ambrose Di
Class : Mystic Bestiary
Rank : M
Race (current) : Catfolk
Level : 3
Adaptive Might : 12
Adaptive Virility : 20
Native Feline Grace : 16
Adaptive Comprehension : 16
Keen Hunter's Awareness : 18
Adaptive Potency : 20
Class Abilities: Bestiary of Forms
Bestiary of Forms:
Bestiary may freely shift between a number of forms dictated by their level.
Forms Chosen [3/3]
Catfolk - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items
Lambda - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - Shield
Merfolk - Unevolved - Investment 0/5 - No items
Racial Abilities:
Native Dark Sight
Tumbler
Light Foot
Contortionist
Leaper
Evasive
Skills: None
Two of her attributes had changed in name and possibly potential due to her shift. She also had a new surplus of Racial abilities she had not been capable of in her human form. Her lips quirked up in a grin at this turn of events as she caught sight of the abilities given to her by her class. Looking back to the scion, her ears flicking as the cart rolled over and loudly cracked a small stone in the road, her smile broadened further.
“I can confirm your theory, at least to some extent. While the numeric value of my stats has not changed, two of my unique stats did change qualitatively. I also gained racial abilities,” she said, seeing no point in hiding that from her, as the Scion would likely have guessed that the new form came with the abilities that characterised the race.
Lyssandea smirked and then nodded at that, seeming to have expected something similar. “The few druids I have worked with told me that their stats changed completely to that of the beast they shifted to. But I suppose that the driving nature of your class is that sapient races are not subject to a standard set of stats, but a certain… quality of power?”
Ambrose quirked her head to the side in curious interest. She wouldn’t have called the professor stupid, or even a bigot like most humans were toward the monstrous races, but she had not expected the woman to be open minded to seeing the demi-human races as just races of people and not monsters. Perhaps it was due to the scion’s academic background? Even if not, Ambrose found that she liked the woman more for the thoughtful analysis. She personally agreed that the nimbleness and sensitivity of the catfolk was qualitatively better than that of a human, regardless of age or profession. The effort a human would have to put into keeping up with a catfolk far outstripped the natural ability that catfolk would have to outrun, evade, and even stalk a human.
Ambrose was about to think further on the topic, when her senses tingled. A surge of discomfort ran up her spine and her eyes scanned the area before locking onto the panting man across from her. She immediately noticed Henric reaching across the cart, hand outstretched as though he wanted to touch her. Rather than even think of indulging him putting his hand on her, she moved away from him and further down the bench, her body returning to its natural form and her clothes returning to her, fully covering all the skin he had been leering at. She could worry about analyzing her sheet when she wasn’t being openly perved on.
To her pleasant surprise, Lyssandrea slapped the back of the young man’s hand once she recognized what he’d been doing. Henric snatched back and rubbed his hand, frowning, but seeming chastised for his actions.
Rather than dwell on him and his silliness, Ambrose settled back into silence, wondering to herself what other wonderful things her class could show her about demihumans, given time. .
