The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the grass was green among a few minor drifts of snow. Max whistled a jaunty nautical tune that he hadn’t once known but now did thanks to his [Sailor] background as he sauntered along, keg in hand. He felt alive, and more than alive. He was in the new world at last, with immortality beckoning and ultimate power.
No longer would he be held back by a mundane world, stuck in a dreary 9 to 5 job, with mocking co-workers, and family who didn’t understand. Here he could be whatever he wanted. Here he could have it all. He had the world at his feet.
Quite literally. He grinned at the confusion of the System as he had gone through the most unusual choices he had made, but it had all been for a reason. Well, at least one that would work on paper. He still had to test it out, but he was certain of it.
“[Troll Quake!]”
He stomped hard on the ground, activating the sole offensive power that he had access to. The ground quivered under his stomp; slightly. It was all fairly underwhelming, which is why the Proto-Troll was largely ignored. It might have caused an ant to topple over, if they were drunk and three-legged, and even then he was doubtful.
He really did feel like laughing. It was all so pathetic, but there was potential there that others just didn’t see. Even he hadn’t for a while, and he was actively looking for it.
There was a path before him, and he headed down it. Mountains climbed up on all sides of him, snow-capped and thick with firs and pines on their slopes. A secluded valley nestled among the valley, a wild, raging river running through it, headed towards a narrow canyon that let it out of the valley. The place was improbably built, one could almost say unrealistic, but then the System really didn’t play by the rules when building his worlds.
A figure appeared on the path ahead of Max, one with a golden ! above their head. They were another Proto-Troll, standing around, shuffling their feet. Grey-skinned and stopped shoulder, their long arms almost reached to the ground. He looked up at Max’s approach.
“Greetings, adventurer,” he called out. “We have need of your aid. Minions of the dreaded Leech Queen have broken through the mountain passes and descended into our peaceful valley. If they are not dealt with, then it may be the end of us all. You need to carry a warning message to alert the Mayor. Do you accept, adventurer?”
“Yeah, no worries. I’ll get to it. But first I need a drink. Do you have a pub nearby?”
“A what?”
“A pub. Tavern, drinking house, inn. Somewhere that sells alcohol.”
“You want… a drink?”
“Yeah, mate. Well, more need than want. I function better with a drink in me.”
And there was the secret that he had found hidden away, overlooked as a bit of a joke - alcohol. Of course, back in the mundane world, he had never tasted the stuff - it tasted horrible. But here it was different, and as a [Brewer] he could even make it taste good.
“Um, okay. Down the path leads to our village, and the Mayor. There you will find The Troll Inn. You can find what you seek there. But please hurry adventurer.”
“Will do,” Max told him and sauntered off again, whistling to himself. He wasn't in all that much of a hurry, as these things were never on a timer. Not in a tutorial zone at any rate.
Technically he didn't need a drink - he had some in his keg already - but the more variety the merrier was the method that he had devised.
Just a short distance beyond the quest giver, he stopped and perched himself on a boulder. It was time to get to grips with the system, to figure out how it all worked. He looked at the keg he carried and an informational overview appeared above it. Remarkable.
It only required a thought to bring up his character sheet as well, the knowledge of how to do it having been implanted into him when he had been ported into the world.
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So there he was, in all his glory. Not much to look at, even at first level. Yet. He knew most of the details already, from the manuals, but it never hurt to look at them again, properly, in the wild, getting a feel for the system he was working with.
It was funny how the fluff just did not match the crunch. Three damage was barely a scratch - he could already punch harder than that. Somehow it had been overlooked that the Proto-Troll could not readily increase their PROWESS and so the ability was considered useless. Unless one went looking elsewhere.
Again another trait that made the Proto-Trolls a laughing stock. In a world where eating a loaf of bread healed, where you couldn't take five steps without tripping over [Healing Potions] and healing magic was everywhere it was rendered redundant.
The funny thing was that crafting and harvesting resources were restricted for some time, unable to be accessed by anyone in the starting zone. Not so for [Brewers] and their foraging. He could already do so - already he was seeing flowers and berries around that he could use.
Which meant that he didn’t even have to leave the starting area to start making brews. And boy could he do things with even the simplest of brews. Just take the [Basic Grog] to start with. For him, thanks to [A Perfect Brew] the INTELLECT penalty no longer applied. Drunkenness was counted as a penalty, just not a statistical one. It was a consumable, though, and while [A Perfect Brew] couldn’t reduce it, [Stone Stomach] could, reducing the Drunkenness of it to just 1 per drink. In fact, it was the only way he had found to reduce the Drunkenness inflicted by a drink. While most could only expect to toss down a couple of drinks, and only outside of combat, he could quaff a formidable fourteen, five at a time, with no ill effects, tripling his BRAWN for a while.
He wasn’t really all that surprised that it had been overlooked. No one, not even the System, thought much of Proto-Trolls and so they hadn’t been considered when [Brewers] had been introduced, and how they could interact.
And that was just the start. Just wait until he could make [Spice Rum]. He grinned. Then it would really get spicy.
