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Chapter 7: Professional Mouthbreather
🕑 Added 2024-12-22 17:00:16 +0000 UTCChapter 7: Professional Mouthbreather
Tiberius felt a frown crease his brow as his eyes traveled across the unfamiliar script. He found he could read most of it, despite it clearly not being Latin, just as he was somehow able to understand this land's inhabitants. Strange as that was, it was also convenient, and it didn't take too long to get a grasp of its meaning. In some ways, it was similar to a report he might receive about troop numbers and other logistical details. But this was different. Very different.
His name, his position, his titles—how did the glowing text know them? He was even recognized as a "Roman Emperor," despite having only declared himself as an acting one a short while ago. Not only that, but there were other pieces of information as well. It was as though it were trying to encapsulate his very being into a short report.
Tiberius considered the implications of such a thing. Whatever magic was at play here, it certainly was adept at information gathering. But his attention kept being pulled back to the strange characters scattered throughout the text.
“Bard,” Tiberius said. "I am unfamiliar with some of these symbols. In the stats section—next to 'strength'—there is a circle with a hook extending beneath it."
The bard's face froze for a second as if he were carefully considering how to react. He allowed the man to think. The extreme care he seemed to place on appearances certainly wasn't helping his trustworthiness, though. After a few seconds, the man gathered his words.
"Er…" the bard began, his usual eloquence seeming to fail him. "I believe you are referring to a 'nine'."
Suddenly, Marcus's hesitance made sense. It was a number. One that was obviously foreign to Tiberius. The bard hadn't wanted to insult the Legaus's intelligence by suggesting he was innumerate. For once, he somewhat empathized with the fop.
"I see. So these are this country's numbers," Tiberius nodded in understanding. It was odd that they hadn't translated as well as the text. Still, not being able to read them would certainly complicate things.
As the thought crossed his mind, the text before him flickered and shifted.
Information
Name: Tiberius Rufius Maro
Age: LIV
Class: Legionnaire – Legatus (Legendary)
Level: I
Experience: MDXXXVII / MMMMMM…MMMMMM…MMMMMM
Stats
Strength: IX
Dexterity: IIX
Constitution: X
Charisma: XIV
Wisdom: X
Intelligence: X
Titles:
Conqueror of Habersville
Roman Emperor
Born to Rule
Born to Conquer
Bonds of Brotherhood
Skills
[Empty Individual Slot]
[Empty Individual Slot]
[Empty Individual Slot]
[Empty Individual Slot]
[Empty Individual Slot]
[Empty Group Slot]
[Empty Group Slot]
[Empty Group Slot]
[Empty Group Slot]
[Empty Group Slot]
Tiberius blinked, then scowled. That was… disconcerting. Had it just read his mind? Perhaps it could, considering that it knew something of his being and history. Or maybe the gods had spoken to it? This town hadn't made any mention or shown proper respect to the gods, so he sincerely doubted that. The theory that this was all some elaborate trick or trap seemed to become less and less likely the more he saw.
Reading through the text again, it was much easier to understand. His age was correct, but that number next to the experience field… Well, it seemed ridiculous. Focusing on the block of M's revealed that it ran on for several lines. What could such a massive number possibly represent or even mean?
His fingers twitched at his waist as he thought. Luckily, the rest of the numbers were far more reasonable, yet he still didn't quite understand what they were supposed to represent. Was there a standard by which he could compare these "stats"' numbers to? Even so, how useful would that be? Something like strength was not so easy to encapsulate in a single number, much less charisma. He was clearly experienced speaking before the Senate and leading his own men, yet dreaded the awkward chore of speaking with a youngling. How would that distinction translate to the simple "fourteen" inscribed by the stat?
The entire system seemed far too reductive. Perhaps it was due to a lack of his own understanding. Either way, it would bear further investigation. Especially considering how this clearly magical class stone presumed to know everything about him.
Tiberius pored over the details for a while before he noticed that there were other headings atop the screen. The first was labeled "Territory Management." Before he could reach out to touch it, the text inexplicably shifted in front of him once again. Cheeky thing.
He scanned through it and learned that the town had exactly 7,423 residents—6,000 of which were his own men—along with details about how much wood it could produce in a week, how much food was stored and required for upkeep, as well as the town's new alignment with the Roman Empire. There was also more detailed information about the people's satisfaction and certain actions he could take as a leader.
He read over the screen, but didn't dwell on it too much for the moment. Perhaps it would be helpful with administering their new home base. Before trying that, he'd want to have his men double check the numbers. Considering how accurate the information on Tiberius himself had been, though, he suspected that their findings would match up quite closely.
A final heading called "Army Management" gave him information about his legion. This, at least, he didn't need his men to double check. He already knew most of the information held here by heart. Some of his reports boasted even more detail than the floating text, a fact that sparked a flash of pride within his heart. Still, the fact that it knew his chain of command down to the contubernium was disturbing to say the least.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Did they have a spy in their midst? No, that didn't make sense. They likely had many spies in their midst, but they would be from other nations, not this place. Unless their very appearance here was the work of some traitorous mage who had integrated into their ranks? Then again, considering what kind of works he'd seen so far, maybe a traitor wasn't even necessary.
Setting the unhelpful suspicions aside for a moment, Tiberius returned to his skills. Focusing on one of the empty slots yielded a new message.
[You have new skills available. View available skills? WARNING: After viewing, unassigned skills will be permanently lost!]
Accepting the condition, a long wall of options materialized into being, extended toward the ground. When he focused on the first skill, [Breathing], it gave him the option to assign it as either a group or individual skill. While the bard had briefly covered the concept of skills, this particular detail was not something that had been explained. Once again, he looked up and over at the colorfully-dressed man standing a few paces away.
"Explain the difference between a group skill and an individual skill."
He watched as the bard's face flickered through several expressions in a split second before he got himself under control. Interesting. Either he wasn't quite as good at masking his surprise as expected, or he was an even better actor than he'd given him credit for.
"A… group skill, you said? Are you looking in the skills menu?" Marcus asked carefully.
Tiberius nodded, not seeing the harm in giving away that information.
"I don't actually believe I've heard of a 'group skill' before. That term is new to me," the bard admitted. "However, before you leave that screen, I would highly suggest assigning every skill available to you. Even if they do not sound like something you'd prefer to keep or use, it will give you more options in the long term."
The Legatus frowned. "Explain."
"Well, skills are kind of a finicky thing. Once you're offered one and you don't assign it, then poof!" He splayed his hands wide for emphasis. "It's gone forever. But any skill you've assigned once will be available to re-assign at any point in the future, though you'll need to level it up from zero like any new skill. That's why it's quite common for excited youths who have just unlocked their classes to take some extra time and preserve every skill they're initially offered. Even if most of them are of… questionable use."
Tiberius considered the explanation. It seemed that this "System" did indeed have intricacies and oddities that he was not yet privy to. Assuming he believed the fop, of course. But this matter had quickly spiraled beyond the scope of a lone bard's trickery. Between its responsiveness to his thoughts and the sheer amount of information the System had, it was quickly shaping up to resemble something more powerful and potentially dangerous.
Tiberius silently took in the text with suspicion. Reading it was one thing. But allowing it to affect his abilities directly, as skills were supposedly able to do? That would take a leap of faith that he wasn't certain if he wanted to make.
Stroking his chin, the Legatus made a decision. Clearly, magic was not only commonplace in this world, but actively used by its inhabitants to empower themselves. If he and his men were to survive and triumph over other forces, then they would be at a tactical disadvantage if they refused to do the same. Especially if this System was as powerful as he suspected. He needed to better understand and take advantage of its abilities as best he could—he and his men both.
That didn't mean he would blindly trust the thing. He already had a mental list of things to confirm and test. But for now, he would play along and utilize the bard's advice.
Tiberius looked down at the list again. Its base disappeared into the ground at his feet, indicating that it was even longer than it initially appeared. "This list appears to be… expansive."
Marcus nodded. "I can imagine. If you simply think about scrolling, you should be able to see the rest."
Tiberius did just that. It took quite a while to reach the end of the list.
"If you'd like to assign a skill, simply focus on it and agree when it asks. To unassign, it's the same process, but in reverse. I'm certain it won't take you long to figure it out," Marcus chimed in helpfully.
Tiberius concentrated and assigned [Breathing] to his first individual slot.
[Congratulations! You have assigned the skill [Breathing] (Common) - Lvl 0.]
He tested it, taking a deep breath. It felt slightly easier—nothing remarkable, but if he'd been marching for thirty miles, he might have appreciated the difference. Then he moved on to the next skill. And the next.
Most of them were just as underwhelming as the bard had indicated. However, there were a few that stood out to him. [Shield Wall] and [Formation Fighting] seemed like perfect fits for the unit, while skills like [Leadership], [Diplomacy], and [Inspiring Speech] certainly sounded useful for him personally. Even [Arithmetic] might have been useful if he hadn't suspected it was some kind of joke being played on him.
Without some additional testing, though, he was a bit leery of giving the System too much leeway. Still, Tiberius decided to leave two skills assigned for the moment—[Marching] as a group skill and [Logistics] as an individual one.
It took nearly half an hour for him to go through the entire list. During that time, a few of his aides occasionally appeared to ask for guidance or confirm their next course of action with regards to the town. However, these interruptions were few and far between. They already understood their short-term goals of establishing a stronghold, and his men were more than capable of handling themselves without being prodded every step of the way.
"Well, someone is certainly fortunate," Marcus remarked when Tiberius mentioned he had finished. At some point, the bard had taken a seat nearby and begun plucking away at a small string instrument.
"How so?" Tiberius asked, already having some idea.
"Well, as you might expect, most sixteen-year-olds don't have a lifetime of experience behind them when they unlock their class. It's mostly common and universal skills that are available to them, with perhaps a few specialties and the like." Marcus shrugged. "By the time they've accrued enough worldly knowledge to gain more interesting skills, they've often had their System for a few years and filled up their skill slots. And believe me, no one wants to drop a skill they've spent time leveling to preserve something they may never use."
Tiberius nodded, considering the implications. It would require testing to figure out which skills were worthwhile and which ones weren't. One more thing that would need to be delegated.
"As for the 'group skill' matter you mentioned before," Marcus continued, "I gave it quite a bit of thought while you were indisposed. If you would be so kind as to focus on your class?"
Tiberius acquiesced. He felt that he was beginning to get used to these strange mental commands, as invasive as they felt.
[Legionnaire – Legatus (Legendary): The ultimate leader of a Roman Legion. A Legion succeeds and fails as a single unit, though it is composed of many individual parts.
As Legatus, you are in charge of its Legionnaires and responsible for their management. Skills and titles related to commanding your forces will have an increased effect. You may assign group skills to be shared by the entire Legion, or delegate them down your chain of command to be assigned and shared by officers of smaller groups.]
Marcus seemed able to read the reaction on Tiberius's face. "I suspect that the class description may have clarified some things. Does it, perhaps, make mention of these 'group skills' being shared amongst your men?"
Tiberius neither confirmed nor denied the suggestion, but Marcus continued on regardless. "Choosing one's skills can be quite the undertaking. Many a great warrior or mage has spent years or even decades honing their build until it is a perfect fit for their personal preferences. However, in your case, I wouldn't worry overmuch about experimenting a little bit. After all, compared to someone like myself, you have significantly less to lose in terms of wasted time and experience."
Tiberius nodded, motioning for one of his newer aides to come over. "Gaius."
The young man stepped forward, his back straight as a good spear shaft. He was a rising star in Rome; a good friend had asked Tiberius to bring him on their latest campaign, and over the past several months, he had not come to regret it one bit. Gaius was capable, quick to learn, and curious—not to mention as brave as any Legionnaire ought to be. Everything Tiberius would have wished for if he had a son of his own.
The Legatus nodded to the class stone. "I am assigning you to investigate the matter of skills. Send a messenger if you require my input."
Gaius clasped his hand to his chest in salute. "Yes, Legatus!"
Tiberius assigned the man a centurion and a contubernium for support. It felt natural to give him the task, and he expected to be pleased with the findings sooner rather than later. In the meantime, he had other questions about the System to investigate.
Tiberius led his group away from the class stone, allowing the officer to start compiling a report. He motioned for his scribes to continue recording everything.
"Marcus," Tiberius said, intentionally using the bard's name, "Tell me more about these 'classes'."
The bard seemed to recognize the significance of this address and preened a bit. The man, while distasteful, was proving useful. Tiberius wanted to make sure Marcus knew he was valued, but not so much that he thought himself indispensable. It was a fine balance to walk, but one that Tiberius had some experience with, particularly when working with local barbarians.
He gave Marcus a hard, evaluating look. Many of the conquered peoples he'd dealt with had become fine citizens, and some had even served with him in the legion long enough to earn their own citizenship. He doubted the bard would ever have the stomach for such service, but he might surprise him yet.
"Of course, Legatus," Marcus began with an understated flourish of his cloak. "Classes are the cornerstone on which we build our interactions with the System. First and foremost, one's class determines the ways in which one may earn experience. Everyone earns experience from combat—well, from killing monsters," he corrected himself. "But combat classes might earn combat experience from the very act of fighting, even if they do not emerge victorious. Other classes, like a baker or blacksmith, earn experience from plying their trade, as well."
Tiberius raised an eyebrow. "Killing monsters, you say?"
Marcus grimaced. "Well… while one technically can benefit from killing people, it is not exactly a tasteful method. It's understandably frowned upon by both other people and the System itself. Unless it's on a proper battlefield, simply killing someone unprovoked can result in penalties. Significant ones. I would not recommend going down that path."
Tiberius let that slide for now. Looking into what constituted a "proper battlefield" was a matter for another time. For now, he allowed the bard to continue with his explanation.
"One's class also affects the skills you're offered," Marcus went on. "A bard like me receives more charisma-based skills related to the performing arts, rather than skills for swinging an axe. Also, the skills I pick that relate to my class will level faster."
Tiberius noted that. Gaius would find the tidbit useful. "And leveling is… good?"
"Yes," the bard replied. "As one of my predecessors loved to say, 'Numbers going up is always good.' Skill levels improve the benefits you get from the skill. But leveling yourself also grants stat points—which, by the way, are also determined by your class and its rarity." Marcus gave a slight smile at bringing the topic back around.
"Of course, higher levels require more effort and experience to reach, but I doubt you need to worry about such matters yet. Based on how easily your men dispatched those shadow panthers—which were several times your level, by the way—I'm sure you won't have any trouble for a while. Why, those men must already be level two or three from that alone!"
Tiberius frowned, remembering the ridiculous number of experience points required on his information screen. That didn't seem to exactly align with Marcus's words. Not only that, but he had experience despite not killing anything.
Then he recalled a notification about gaining experience for capturing the town. Perhaps Legionnaires grew in power from conquering territory? It would certainly make sense to him. Still, Tiberius kept his suspicions to himself for the moment.
"You mentioned class rarities. Remind me what they are."
"Common, uncommon, rare, epic, and legendary," Marcus quickly rattled off. "A common class receives one stat point per level. An uncommon class receives two, a rare class four, and epic classes get six."
"And legendary?"
"Those…" The bard shrugged. "It's hard to say. Legendary rarities of anything are hard to come by, much less information about them. Some say they earn twenty. Others claim they earn none at all, but improve their stats through other strange and mystical means… But the most reliable sources I've heard put the number at nine points. We may never know for sure."
Tiberius called the image of his status screen back to mind. Somehow, he expected they might know sooner than the bard expected.
"We will continue this conversation later. Remain nearby in case I have need of you. You may also offer your services to Gaius as he works."
The bard bowed deeply as Tiberius turned toward the town hall. He had plenty more questions to ask about the System, but he could indulge his curiosity later. For now, there was work to do.
