After putting the breakfast bowls down, I tried wrapping my hands, but stopped before finishing the first attempt and gave up. Turned out gloves had been invented for a reason, so I just fished a pair out of my pack and moved on with things. I hadn’t been camping in a long time, but I still remembered the basics such as burying the fire and the food scraps, so I did that. After that the only real task I had left was dealing with the crematory pits I’d made, the first of which was just outside the arena we’d camped in.

I had just begun working on closing it up when Mia popped up again. She seemed dry now, though whether that was due to some effort on her part or just the natural effect of her clothes being made of hydrophobic materials I couldn’t tell. Nor did it really matter, other than I was curious about what she’d been trying to do.

“Breakfast!” She said, ignoring everything else and making straight for the food the moment she spotted it. As I worked to fill in the pit, I couldn’t help but note that the pale girl was still completely insensate, and neither generic elf guy’s efforts nor Mia’s own enthusiastic attempt had managed to succeed. Just as well really, as the girl was liable to pester me with questions or even go back to watching from a distance as she had before falling asleep the night before. Somehow being watched like that had put a nameless pressure on me and I hadn’t liked it at all.

“Did you eat already?” Mia asked, zipping over just as I was preparing to head to the next area. “It’s really good! Do you want some of Mia’s?” Her earnest offer caused some of my anxiety and tension to evaporate, and I patted her pretty golden hair before I could think better of it.

“Nope, all yours.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, she started filling hers. “I can make more if you’d like?” She nodded vigorously, but minded her manners and didn’t actually speak with her cheeks stuffed full. Watching her eat so enthusiastically almost made me want some, but only almost. I changed course back towards my pack, then realized there was an untouched portion sitting out already.

“Take this one. I’ll make another when our sleeping beauty wakes up,” I said, snatching up the bowl and handing it over into Mia’s hungry clutches. “Meanwhile, help these folks pack so we can go when I get back.” At first I thought she seemed too focused on the lousy breakfast I’d made to hear me, but her incomprehensible full-mouthed response caught me as I was leaving and made me a smile.

Touring the camp and cleaning up the last of the mess I’d made of the place didn’t take long, but long enough for everyone, even that pale girl, to be ready to leave. I’d forgotten that Mia had eaten her share, but she waved it off with a grunt when the elven fellow mentioned it. I did sympathize because I certainly hadn’t been a morning person myself before this new body came along. Even so, I couldn’t have her getting in my way. As I was thinking about what options I had for dealing with her, a few key words tuned me into part of a conversation they were having.

“—omething you ate last night?” Generic elf was saying.

“D’know. Bad morning.”

“Ye didnae eat that gob drek,” the dwarf said, and suddenly I was vitally curious. Perhaps they knew the mystery of that stick! Was it a spice? A rare treasure? I had to know what it was. “Have ta say that was wise. Sat like rot in me guts, but the mess the scary lass went down well. Ye really think that did ye in?” Mess? Rude. And what was with the accent anyway? That nice dwarven girl I’d met before hadn’t sounded like that, so maybe it was regional or affected.

“Yeah! Mea’s food is the best.” I had to thank my Mia for being such an absolute sweetheart. “Sure you don’t want any breakfast?”

“Meh,” the pale girl grunted, seeming to force even that much out. I knew exactly how she felt, of a sudden, as that vague thought I’d had before about how her condition seemed familiar came into focus. If I was right, and it was a food allergy of some kind, then it was way more than just being bad at mornings. It was a fun sort of puzzle, and I did love puzzles, so I was put in a good mood for having figured that out.

“You truly must learn to use your words,” generic elf responded. I felt a flicker of annoyance at that, as it smacked of the kind of unempathetic condescension that I’d been subjected to time and again in my old life.

“Urg. Too fuzzy,” she trailed off before making an effort to finish the sentence. “In my head. Can’t think, just let me be.” I knew exactly that kind of feeling, and if it wasn’t an allergy, then it was at least some kind of related disorder. It was possible I was wrong, of course. I always accepted that was a possibility in everything I did or believed, yet in this I didn’t think I was. I’d suffered the same for a long time before the miracles of science caught up and cured such things, and so I felt a sense of kinship with the pale— no, she had a name, I’d overheard it the night previous.

“Are you going to be able keep up with us, Anise?” I asked once I had ghosted up from behind to loom over them all. She started hard and her sluggish reactions couldn’t prevent her from falling over. I hadn’t intended for that to happen, but it was a little funny. It also proved little Anise likely would lag behind, which was rather concerning since I didn’t want to spend all day walking back to town.

“Or will you be needing help?” I continued, as she glared up at me with an expression of rapidly awakening awareness and more than a little anger. I was hoping that by offering a little bit of challenge, and then a little bit of unexpected help, I could convince her to take an option she might otherwise be too proud to endure. I offered my hand once her expression had shifted towards confusion.

“Fine, yes,” she said as she looked at the faces of her comrades. “I’m not feeling well this morning and could use some help.” I knew she’d accept. I could tell she had a fire in her that wouldn’t let her quit, even if that meant swallowing her pride a bit.

“Princess carry?” I asked, but didn’t wait for a response.

“What’s tha—?” she trailed off into a shriek as I swept her up. It was, perversely, probably the most dignified way of doing things. I was already wearing a backpack, so piggyback wouldn’t work. I could have set her on my shoulders, but that would have impacted my dignity, so it was out. There other options such as fashioning a sling or a sled, but those things would take time and I wasn’t interested in wasting any more of that. Additionally, this way I could at least have a reasonable conversation. Beyond my interest in her as a compatriot in suffering, she was a mage. A fairly competent one, so it seemed to me, and I was sure we’d have much to talk about on our early morning sojourn.

With that settled, and without heeding anyone else, I set off towards town.

Now that I had a reason to pay attention, and I was very much paying attention to the rather bewildered cargo in my arms, the culai really were strange. Thanks to my [High-Speed Comprehension] Ability, I had all the time in the world to stare without it being obvious, and I had every intention of taking full advantage of that. Partly because Anise was a person I was probably going to need to be able to recognize at glance, and faces tended to be a little difficult for me without some time to familiarize myself, but also because her race was actually pretty rare.

I’d seen every other race at various times and had been able to satisfy my curiosity about them all, all but culai. I hadn’t seen any of them in the town, and since I was discounting Brin’s troublesome brother entirely as I’d only ever seen him from a distance and in passing, that made Mia’s mentor the only other culai I’d thus far met. My little hero had so thoroughly monopolized her time that I’d had no chance to look at her up close before leaving the mountain, plus the youngest Kanna also had a few circumstances that made me certain that she was hardly a standard specimen in any case. So I was admittedly pretty curious, and Anise presented the perfect opportunity to satisfy that interest.

The most immediately notable thing about culai was, of course, that they were the only pale race. Surrounded by skin tones varying from the elves’ milk chocolate to the dwarves’ earth tones to the sirols’ practically charcoal black, that really stood out. The second most notable thing was that they were, and I could think of no other way to describe it, low resolution.

Petite and delicate, almost doll-like, with a perfect complexion and overly large eyes. They seemed designed somehow, as they lacked pores, fine hairs, or the other normal imperfections of living things. It was so strange that I became convinced there had to be a reason for it. I just needed to make sure we ended up on good terms. Partly so that I could ask about things like that, which might end up being rather personal, but also because she seemed reasonably competent to me. Competent people were always good to have around and at worst she’d make an easy source of local knowledge, who’d think nothing of sharing that with Mia and myself.

Unfortunately, she was looking pretty upset and frightened at the moment, clutching at my tunic with her eyes screwed shut, so I decided to break the ice. Using Mia, of course, who was a few steps behind me. I had a little something to ask her about, anyway. Something vitally important for someone who fights for a living to always keep in mind.

“Mia,” I said, startling myself slightly. It just never sounded right, my voice. It hadn’t ever since I’d been given my obviously hacked together and poor-quality golem body. That alone was only mildly unsettling. What was worse was the way that it resonated weirdly, because every time I spoke it would send little vibrations to places little vibrations had no business going, and it was hard to give myself the tone I wanted. That problem was due, I knew, to the flawed designs and negligence with which I’d been built. So I just had to learn to live with it.

“Okay!” She said, dashing up beside me. I had the distinct impression she didn’t quite know how to use that word, but it was so much a part of my lexicon that I couldn’t imagine not using it. Of course, if I was going to use it then she would want to as well, which left me with no choice but to try and teach it to her. Not that I minded, but I’d have to do it later on. I glanced back at the two extras, who were already lagging behind, and slowed my pace. Vexing. At that rate we’d arrive later than I wanted, but it would allow me to talk to my captive audience longer, so it wasn’t all bad.

“How much health did you lose in all of yesterday’s fighting?” I’d originally considered easing her into the topic by priming her before we’d gone up against the goblins. But no, that poleaxed expression on her face was exactly what I needed to see to know I’d done it the right way.

“Mia doesn’t know,” she said after a long pause and several amusing attempts at surreptitiously checking her status.

“Anise,” I wanted to draw her into the conversation as well. If I wasn’t wildly off the mark, then not only would it be illuminating for Mia, but it would make an excellent hook to pull Anise into my orbit.

“Mm?” She managed, blinking blearily up at me and seeming somewhat disoriented and tense still. I knew how that felt.

“How much health does the average adventurer have?” Her brow furrowed immediately. I figured it was a mixture of her actually considering the question, and annoyance at being asked to think at all. I’d asked it knowing she’d be a little resentful, as I certainly was whenever I’d been in similar situations. What she had was a disease of stagnation, the sort of ailment that dragged a person down and tried to keep them there.

There were lots of things that fell into the category, congenital issues, viral infections, physiological issues like allergies, and psychological troubles too. The shared feature was that they made a person a little slower, a little weaker, and would keep taking until there was nothing left if they were allowed to. That was why the best remedy was motion. A cause, a purpose, a reason to get up and never quit. Clearly Anise had found that in adventuring, as I’d found my own passions. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a cure, but doing something – anything at all – kept it from being worse. I was sure she had some idea about that, given her chosen career.

“Nn, well. Ten, ‘er so?” She said, her sleep-disoriented slurring already beginning to clear. I’d definitely try and help, right after I taught Mia a valuable lesson.

“Thanks. Alright Mia, did you lose more than ten health yesterday?”

“Mia got hurt a few times,” she said, slightly sullenly. Cute, but that wouldn’t do at all.

“I lost fifty-three health yesterday.” Most of that was the one blow the big gob had gotten on me, and I tried to flex the shoulder that had been caught by that ridiculous axe without jostling the little one in my arms. It had been my bad shoulder, too, though that shouldn’t have mattered anymore. Even so, it was still annoying me, like a vague phantom pain. I just chose to ignored it and continued. “I know exactly when it happened, and how. Tell me, Mia, why would I keep track of that?”

She fell into silence, thinking. That was good. She needed to be thoughtful where I was careless, considered where I was reckless, temperate where I was fickle, honest where I was a hypocritical liar, and compassionate where I was vicious. The hero to my monster. I felt a little grin creep up my face at that thought but dropped it soon after. Grinning like an idiot over nothing at all wasn’t a reputation I wanted following me into this life, though judging by Anise’s expression I was too late. Or maybe, on second thought, she was just in awe at the size of my health pool.

“Miss—”

“Mea. Please.” I was being a bit forceful, but familiarity was key in forming bonds quickly.

“Right. Mea, then.” She drew a deep breath. “Mea, I must have heard you wrong. Fifty-three health lost? If that were the case you’d need at least four or five hundred! That’s just not possible.” Anise gazed up at me with eyes that were sharp and clear and full of a burning curiosity that didn’t care about superfluous things, such as her previous embarrassment about being held. It was such a nice change I almost missed how accurately she was able to gauge my stats. Which meant she had to know some things I didn’t.

What a great find!

“Five hundred exactly, yes. How did you know?”

“Because you don’t seem hurt?” She said with obvious confusion, as if it was something I ought to know. If that was the case then there was likely some well understood mechanism at play. But what? I wasn’t hurt because I’d healed most of the damage as I took it. Little ones and twos of minor scrapes that vanished in seconds. Even the big hit from the gob boss had mended itself before too long. It wasn’t until after my knuckles had broken open while being an idiot that my regeneration had stopped. Maybe I just didn’t regenerate self-caused harm? That would sound farfetched if I didn’t know how carelessly my body had been built.

Of course, Anise had no way to know that the damage had trickled in over time and had been matched by my regeneration. She just heard the singular figure and then did an instant calculation. Fifty-three health to five hundred was a factor of ten, and if most adventurers had only ten health then, well. What exactly? If any damage at all resulted in a loss of health, and that seemed essentially inevitable, then someone with only ten max health would probably be down at least one on a fairly consistent basis due to everyday bumps and bruises.

It could be about percentage lost, instead of absolute numbers. If so, and a tenth lost was no big deal and indicative of only minor harm, then that was my explanation. While that certainly sounded plausible in my head, I had no evidence beyond circumstance and conjecture. Furthermore, that particular explanation had a really serious implication that I wanted to pursue.

“I’m fine, thanks for being concerned about me,” I said with the slightest squeeze to Anise and my best attempt at a shy sort of smile.

I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to frame things to my benefit with someone so obviously useful. At least not while everyone else was busy and in no position to notice or stop me! Mia was distracted by whatever thoughts passed through that head of hers, and the other two were deep in their own conversation.

A conversation I’d been listening to, of course. So far it had just amounted to typical boy whispering. Things like how nice our butts looked as we walked, and whether or not I’d kill them for trying to hit on one of us. I wouldn’t of course, I wouldn’t dream of preventing the absolute entertainment of watching them trying to make passes. But if they planned on it, then I hoped they’d save it for later, because I had a very serious topic that I needed to pick my way through carefully.

“Mm, you know Anise, I’ve been thinking that I might be able to help with your chronic ailment. From what I’ve seen it may be similar to something I’m familiar with.” She looked like she might be interested, but was staying wary. It was likely she’d been handed that kind of hope before and found it worth nothing. I knew exactly how that felt, so I was wagering something of a gambit on our future relationship.

On the one hand, I was fairly confident that I could do at least something for her problem. On the other, considering I’d been thrown into a weird magic ringworld with no guarantees that anything was the way I’d known before, it was very well possible that I might not be able to help as much as either of us would like. So, if I was just projecting myself onto her and her problems, and had missed the reality of Anise’s situation completely, then I’d have to cut my losses and move on. That would be a shame, so I was going to do everything in my power to help.

“If I’m right, then, well unfortunately it’s not a cure, but you could at least manage the condition on your own and avoid the debilitating effects.” Oh, I had her attention now. No doubt of that with the way she was gripping my clothing, eyes practically shining.

“Now, I do need to ask you a favor in exchange,” I continued and watched the joy ebb from her smile. But the light in her eyes didn’t change one bit. If anything, she seemed to grow even more serious and focused as she nodded just once. Good. She was smart enough to realize that nothing came free. Maybe she even respected that as a precept. If so, it would make the turnaround all the more effective.

“Alright then, since you’re willing,” I flashed her a warm smile. “I need you to tell me a little bit about yourself, your condition, and your status.” She balked slightly, as I knew she might. Personal information was a topic not to be broached without due sensitivity, and I was a stranger. One she considered dangerous, if I’d read her properly.

“Tell me,” I went on, since she hadn’t said no, “does a chronic ailment like yours change your effective health total? Is there an entry in your status for it, perhaps a note in the verbose setting? Since eating certain things hurts you, does that count as a poison so far as the system is concerned?” Anise puffed out a breath, looking relieved. I wondered what exactly she had to feel so anxious about, but whatever inane detail or other she wanted to keep private was perfectly safe from me.

“So many questions!” She said with a small, slightly nervous, laugh. “To your first, yes. I’m always a few points down, even on my best days. But I’m feeling really encouraged, you know? Of those that have offered to help me, you’re the first to figure that out.”

“You’re constantly missing more than one point?” That was rather serious then. It was more impressive than ever that she was determined to be an adventuring Hunter with such a handicap.

“It’s not so bad,” she said with as much of a shrug as she could manage while being held. The girl had some serious moxie and I liked that.

“Oh?” But moxie or not, brushing it off was the same as not answering my real question.

“Well, I’m a culai,” she said. As though the implications should have been obvious. They weren’t to me though and, much to my surprise, Anise somehow picked up on that.

“It’s not exactly a secret, but I suppose it’s not a well-known fact either. See, culai have a little more health than everyone else. Most of us are adventurers or work as guards because of that, but it means I’m a little harder to hurt, so don’t worry.” It was interesting, in a trivia sort of sense. I’d already noticed that each race tended towards certain advantages or disadvantages, so it wasn’t particularly noteworthy to me.

What did catch my attention was her phrasing. Harder to hurt? I had to suppose that I certainly was. I’d taken quite a few blows that really should have been serious, but so far it had all remained very much surface level injuries. That implied that it wasn’t just increased health, but some kind of damage reduction as well. The receptionist woman had said we had the health of a serious fortress, and perhaps that meant the resistance to damage was similar, too. When I thought of that, I realized that obviously that had to be the case, as my body was made of the same materials that one would presumably use to build such a fortress.

The question then was, were Anise and the other culai similarly composed of more durable materials than normal flesh and blood? If so, then that might be why they seemed so doll-like. It also fed the implication that had been gnawing at the back of my mind, an idea that was growing stronger and more well-supported by the available evidence. I needed to know for sure though, and that meant I’d have to keep asking questions.

“That’s good, I’m glad it’s not as bad as it could be. Still, I’m really hoping to see you get better. That’s why I’m wondering if your status describes your condition at all.”

“No, thankfully it’s not as bad as that. I can’t even imagine how terrible it would need to be to show up with a unique entry.” There it was. My answer. I checked out of my conversation with Anise for a moment, because as much as I detested the oaf, this was too important not to pass along.

“Yo. Got somethin’ big.”

“You are an artist. A virtuoso. An absolute shrieking genius at picking the absolute worst possible moment. Why. How. Don’t answer. I don’t even want to know, actually. I’m just going to curse the cosmos with my non-questions. Just thank, well me actually, that this isn’t taking much time away from how amazingly busy I am right now.”

“Great! Good to know you’ve always got my back through thick and thin. Here it is, then. The MARIA system isn’t prescriptive: it’s descriptive. Bye!”

Sometimes I hated myself. Sometimes I hated the absolutely colossal incarnation of irritating self-importance that I used to be! But getting upset was useless. Being emotional was never the right choice. I just needed to let it all drift away. Good thing I had some pleasant people around me just then. Deep breath, and... okay. Something productive!

If the system was descriptive, then levels and stats were just numeric codifications of the way the world was, no different to the sorts of gym numbers I was used to, like max lift, lap time, or G-tolerance. That was disappointing in innumerable ways for me personally, as it would have been an absolute dream to just kill things and then be given ever greater ability. That made me wonder what role fighting monsters had in the system’s determination of a person’s ability, because there did seem to be one. It was probably also connected to the rather out-of-place respawn mechanism I’d found, but those were all rather esoteric considerations and therefore best saved for another time.

Instead, since I couldn’t rely on getting stronger in the way I’d presumed, I’d need to change my overall methods and plans. Though that was troubling, it at least neatly explained the discrepancies I’d already found. Including the fact that, beyond the Spells I’d already worked to learn, I had nothing at all new. I hadn’t yet bothered to check my full status because I found it incredibly embarrassing and juvenile to use voice commands and avoided them when I could, which included the mandatory callout for my status. Thankfully I’d managed to isolate the important parts, like the health display and the chat function I used to talk to Patron, and left those bits permanently in view.

It had been weighing on my mind that I might need some type of official class trainer to purchase or be taught the relevant stuff, but if gaining those was just a matter of working towards them then that wasn’t the worst outcome. It did mean I’d need to know what sorts of things were available and how to earn them. Spells I understood, but what about the physical version?

Mia had one, along with that magic I couldn’t seem to learn. Likely they were both a gift from her true self that had merely been passed on to her current body when she possessed it, but I wanted to know how she’d gotten them in the first place. I also idly wondered if the system did anything to prevent atrophy, because there was nothing worse than losing something I’d worked to achieve. It probably didn’t, unfortunately.

I wasn’t the only one lost in thought as, Mia was still deep in her own world. Anise herself seemed to be reflecting on something only she could see, but in looking at her I realized she could at least answer a question or two about Spells, since she was a mage.

“Anise,” I said and waited for her eyes to focus on me again. “How did you learn the Spells you know?”

“Um, well,” she said, with mild confusion. “The usual way. I found a teacher and paid for them, so my magic is pretty normal.” She hesitated for a moment, but then seemed to resolve herself before continuing. “I was watching you cast, by the way, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. How do you do that?”

“I’m just doing the same thing you are.”

“No, I mean. Look, even if I’ve been forced to accept that you can actually see Spells, which is just ridiculous by the way,” she said, pointing a finger at my face. “I have no idea how you’re copying them, either, but put that aside. I only showed you how to create water right?” I nodded. “Right. Then how did you erase it? You just looked at that, that bath thing you made, and all the water vanished. That’s what I mean.” I thought about that for a moment.

“Do you think of each Spell as unique?” I asked, as it was obvious that we shared different understandings of the way things worked, and I couldn’t reasonably answer without a little context from her.

“Well yes, because they are.” I nodded at that, as I’d more or less expected that answer.

“I don’t. That’s probably how I’m doing whatever it is you think is strange.” She shook her head immediately.

“It doesn’t work like that! You feel out the mana and then draw it into the right shape and call on Maria to make it real. That’s how it works.” I had to hide a little chuckle, but it did bring an important point to mind. The MARIA system did seem to have an effect on the world, and wasn’t purely descriptive, but that just seemed like nitpicking to me. It was an augmented reality system, so offering a little bit of guidance was its purpose after all. I’d probably have to suck it up and discuss things with my larger self soon, though. The idiot was an admin of the system and all.

“Sorry,” Anise said, breaking into my thoughts. “Can we go back to the bit where you were offering to help me with my issues? My head’s too fuzzy to really wrap around magic theory right now.” I laughed at that.

“Certainly, and you’re right we got way off track didn’t we? Well, I’m more certain than ever that I know what’s wrong, and how to handle it. Lucky you, mm?” She smiled, but it was still reserved. “I think you’re not able to digest certain foods properly, which makes them effectively act like poison instead. Your face says you already knew that. Good! That should make this easier. All we have to do is figure out exactly what parts of which foods are doing it, and design a diet that avoids all of them. I’m pretty knowledgeable about that kind of thing and can help with that, but it would be a longer term project than just this trip into town.

“So, how’s about this: if you’re willing to teach me things, I’m willing to work with you. We’ll just stay in contact and meet up regularly. Or,” I paused for dramatic effect.

“Mea thinks about the health points for the tac-ti-cal de-brief,” Mia said of a sudden, sounding out the words carefully and also perfectly interrupting the moment. That was alright. Ultimately Mia was more important, and the moment would keep. “And, and, also because it’s dangerous to not know how many there are, and also because it’s a competition!” She said the last so cheerfully I almost didn’t want to correct her.

“Yes, yes, and no.” Only almost. “That last isn’t really a good enough reason to distract yourself in the middle of a fight, but I appreciate the ambition. You missed a reason, though. It is one of the many tools at your disposal to learn about the world.”

“It is?” Mia wondered, as I expected.

“Really?” Anise said at the same time, which I did not.

“Well yes. Avoid taking injuries as much as you reasonably can of course, but fight long enough and taking them is a matter of when and not if. Since that’s the case, you want to take note of what things hurt and how much so you have a more solid grip on your options. Here’s a simplified scenario so you understand what I mean. You’ve been isolated by the flow of battle and there are three goblins surrounding you. The one to your left has a club, the one in front has a spear, and the one to your right has a sword. Behind you is a big tree, and they all swing at the same time. What do you do?”

Mia had that wide-eyed look that I’d come to associate with having some part of the world that had previously been unknown opened to her. It was probably the second most satisfying part about teaching the girl, right after being able to leave the big decisions to her instead of messing it up all by myself. Anise gave it a moment’s consideration before delivering her answer.

“I’ll assume I don’t have any Spells at the ready. Well, it’s better to take one hit than three, so I’ll rush one of them.”

“Ooh, Mia didn’t think about that.” Anise was already proving her utility! Excellent job.

“That’s a very credible option, yes. The question then is: which one?”

“Whichever one seems slowest or weakest,” Anise answered immediately, then paused briefly as more seemed to occur to her, “or has a better escape route behind it. Hm, you specified their weapons.” She chewed that thought a moment, but disappointingly didn’t reach my conclusion. “I’m not sure that really matters too much. Any injury is trouble.”

“Mia?” I prodded, wondering if she’d have a different answer.

“Not the spear. Mia thinks running into the pokey bit would be bad.” A very Mia way of putting it, but sound. If she could reliably dodge the spear, then getting inside its reach was a great option. But in a panic situation that was more likely to end with her getting completely run through instead of just jabbed.

“Good thinking. There are a few possible options beyond just rushing one of them, such as running up the tree and jumping over them, but let’s ignore those and stick to your thought. If I had to rush one of them, I’d choose the club. Moving into a blow before they can really bring it down will reduce the amount of force behind it, and I can shake off blunt force damage from something the size of a goblin pretty easily. Sharp things are sharp no matter how much force is behind them, which makes moving into those hits less useful for you and I, Mia. Anise is different. At her size the blow from the club might knock her around and make her vulnerable to follow-up hits. I’m pretty sure her robe is made of the sort of material that resists being cut, but that wouldn’t do much against being pierced by a spear.

“Put that together and she should choose the sword goblin.” It was an artificial scenario with clear delineations between the options, and in specific would likely never amount to much. But since the point was clear, that’s what mattered.

“Huh,” Anise said, looking thoughtful. “I certainly accept that reasoning; though I don’t have five hundred health to play around with like you do, so I think I’ll keep my foes at a distance.” She met my eye for a moment before reddening suddenly. I raised a questioning eyebrow, to which she simply muttered that she was mortified to be holding such a serious conversation while being carried. I kept my amusement to a wry smile, and decided to change topics.

“That seems wisest. Know yourself and your enemies, and match your strength to their weakness.” I paraphrased the old maxim from whatever old general had coined it. “It’s a very useful exercise, though best done before a fight rather than in the midst of one. Now, that aside, let’s talk about a rather serious lapse in judgement.” I raised my voice enough to carry back to the two men, whose conversation seemed to have died as they’d begun to huff and puff keeping up. “Not a one of you thought to set a watch rotation last night, and instead slept soundly in the midst of enemy territory.”

I let that condemnation settle on all of them as we traipsed back towards town. It was fun playing the wise old mentor.