People are weird. We think of ourselves as perfectly rational beings, but underneath a thin veneer of civilisation, we’re a messed-up mish-mash of emotions, poor decisions, and instincts. If you built a robot that wanted to tap its feet when it heard a beat, you’d call that a back door hack, or at the very least an Easter egg. Perfectly normal for humans though.

Or take the herd instincts, developed on the savannah, but still just as relevant today. The instinct to obey someone with power or status was at its most powerful when it was unacknowledged. Subtle signalling that we did, consciously or unconsciously, that informed all of us herd members who was in charge, and who had to obey.

The people of Ryvue, human and otherwise, shouldn’t have had the same instincts. From all the accounts, they hadn’t evolved. They were created out of whole cloth by the gods in much the same form as they were today. Normally, I’d smirk at such a creation tale, but I had reason to believe the gods were real, so I had to give the story at least some consideration.

Part of that story was that they’d been created by the Goddess of Creation right before she committed suicide, which might explain some of the design failings. Unexplained though was the similarity to the humans from Earth.

Not just a similarity. As far as I could tell, the two races were identical, right down to the collection of instincts that by rights the Ryvuans shouldn’t have had. Did Ix create humanity from a template stolen from Earth? Nobody knew, not even the gods.

There were some differences, but they could be easily explained by the different environments. Here, instead of subtle cues coming from the confidence that status brought— or masterful acting by those that had no status— people responded to social [Skills]. Or, more accurately, the product of your Level, [Skill] and [Charisma]. There was some pushback at first, manifesting as Social Combats, but once people got used to the idea of who had the highest total, they let the herd instincts take over and knuckled down under whoever was on top.

At this time, and in this place, here in the town of Talnier, that was me. Which was why I was carefully keeping my mouth shut for most of this meeting. If I said anything, that would be the end of the discussion, as everyone would immediately agree with me. By keeping quiet, I allowed the others to make the points that they had come here to make. They felt included in the decision, and on the off chance that they actually had a point that I hadn’t considered, I’d get to hear it.

The matter under discussion was the expansion of Talnier. Talnier was growing, and not slowly. This time though, I wanted to do it properly. Sewers, paved roads and then buildings. Oh and walls. To my 21st Century mind, they seemed superfluous, but I had to admit that there were monsters out there that needed to be defended against.

The land outside the walls wasn’t owned by anyone. The Tribes to the north had a claim on it, but they didn’t want to go near civilisation, so their claim was only nominal. They were happy to waive it in return for some minor concessions on Dungeon use. Concessions that the town was happy to give since the dungeons were growing. Growing because of all of the mana that had started flowing our way, once the Tribes had stopped focusing that mana on creating monsters in the forest.

With the tribes’ assent, the town Council could claim as much land as we needed, dig out the sewers, plan out the streets, divide it up into packages, and then sell it to people to fund the whole development. If the new immigrants didn’t have enough money, well, the newly formed Bank of Talnier was ready to lend it to them.

All of this could have been accomplished any time in the last twenty years, if the relevant parties had just been willing to talk to each other. None of the people here had been responsible for that particular bit of pig-headed nationalism, though, so I held my tongue, smiled, nodded, and waited for the meeting to come to a conclusion.

To pass the time, I called up my [Status]. My Abilities hadn’t changed at all recently.

Abilities

[Strength]: 4

[Agility]: 4

[Finesse]: 5

[Soul]: 3

[Intelligence]: 6

[Charisma]: 10

[Unspent Ability Points]: 10

Past Level Five, you didn’t get Ability points with each level. I still had a few points from past levels coming my way, but it would be another six months before I saw anything on that front. My abilities were pretty high, considering, thanks to the [World Walker] trait that gave me +1 to each Ability. That hadn’t been worth that much at the lower levels, but Abilities cost more to improve each time one of them went up. Having one added to each Ability after I spent the points was a huge bonus.

Traits

[World Walker]: Level prerequisites for Professions are overridden. +1 bonus to all stats

[Gift of Tongues]: All languages are understood.

[Female] +1 bonus to Charisma

[Silent Casting]: Allows you to cast spells without a chant

[Subtle Casting]: Allows you to cast spells without gestures

[Disease Resistance]: You are more resistant to diseases of all types. (Upgradeable)

[Extra Spells] : 15 more spell levels per Casting Skill Level

[Socialite] : +1 Bonus to all social skills

[Unspent Development Points]: 22

I did have some points to spend on Traits, but I hadn’t settled on what to get. There were too many options, just like I had too many [Skills]

[Body Development]: 3

[Stamina Development]: 5

[Perception]: 4

[Identify]: 6

[Scribe]: 4

[Calculate]: 5

[Sense Mana]: 5

[Mana Development]: 7 (8)

[Illusion Magic]: 6 (9)

[Creativity]: 3

[Disguise]: 2

[WM: Dagger]: 4 (5)

[Deceive]: 3 (6)

[Charm]: 4 (6)

[Conversation]: 4 (6)

[Dodge]: 4

[Jump]: 4

[Climb]: 4

[Run]: 4

[Stealth]: 3

[Memorise]: 4

[Bargain]: 5 (6)

[Advanced Mathematics]: 3

[Intrigue]: 4 (5)

[Persuasion]: 5 (6)

[Sing]: 2

[Teach]: 3

[Intimidate]: 3 (4)

[Enchanting]: 3

[Research]: 2

[Cook]: 3

[Weapon Mastery: Triggered] 2

[Water Magic]: 4

[Theurgy]: 4

[Bureaucracy]: 4

[Craft (Smithing)]: 1

The number of [Skills] I had was basically unbelievable to anyone from this world. I’d learned a lot of things during my twenty-four years on Earth, and some of them translated into [Skills]. If you convinced the System that you could do a thing, it just gave you the skill, no points required. This was something that people from this world could do, but few bothered. I know if I’d been able to learn statistics in an instant by spending a skill point, I wouldn’t have spent years at Uni learning it.

Once you bought a skill, it improved with use— faster if you used it in dangerous situations. I saw a lot of dangerous situations, which helped me to catch up with other people. Everyone born in this world had years more than me to develop their skills. I shouldn’t complain, it wasn’t like I didn’t have my own advantages.

Dismissing the blue boxes from my vision, I looked around at the Town Council. Delmar Balend and Cheney Labelle had finished arguing over the exact number of land packages and the mayor, André Michaud was looking at me expectantly.

“So that’s decided then?” I asked brightly. Everyone nodded and muttered agreement. “Very well, I’ll note that the new development is to be divided as determined here.”

Thanks to [Memorise] I didn’t actually need to make a note, but I would be writing up the minutes for the meeting. I was the Secretary, after all, that was my job.

“Is Anas ready to see me?” I asked my assistant, Huette, cueing up my next meeting as soon as I was back in my office.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, managing to convey her disapproval of the man without saying or doing a thing out of place. In the few months since I’d gotten back from Dorsay, Huette had become much more concerned with propriety. I think it was my [Bureaucracy] settling in. As the staff learned more about the procedures of the organisation, they became functionally immune to social skills, as long as they were following policy.

That had to come as a relief, but I thought it might be resulting in a group of people that were more hide-bound and conservative than they otherwise would be. Policy couldn’t be set in stone, after all. So it was good that she was dealing with people like Anas. We were on friendly terms with him, but he definitely didn’t fit into our bureaucracy.

“Lady Secretary,” Anas said, stepping carefully into my office. It wasn’t quite the closet that it once was. The new building had been completed, so I had room for a desk, another room for Huette, and a room for people to wait for me in, so they didn’t have to block the corridors. It was still a far cry from a corner office in a skyscraper, but give me time.

“Anas,” I said warmly. Anas was the speaker for Tinidan, the tribal Elder who was our main contact with the Tribal Nation. In practice, that seemed to translate to apprentice, but since Tinidan spent most of his time with his tribe, we got to speak with Anas, who held no official title.

“Have you spoken with the Elders?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if he actually spoke, either by some communication magic or fast travel spell. Tinidan wasn’t anywhere nearby, but Anas had some way of getting in touch.

“I have,” he said solemnly. “They have agreed to your terms.”

“Oh… excellent,” I said with a smile. “How soon can the shaman get here?”

“A few days, perhaps a week,” he told me. I nodded understandingly. I would have to keep some time clear in my schedule until then. So far, Dorsay Palace had been the only organisation I found that ran on any kind of punctuality. The Guild weren’t too bad but most Latorran deadlines needed a few days wiggle room. The Tribes had even less concern for dates. The shaman would show up when he arrived, and there wasn’t much I could do about that.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to meet their demands?” he asked.

“It should be fine, as long as I can get sufficient mana,” I said.

We were talking about the placement of what would be my new dungeon. Negotiations with the King about how much mana I could get had not gone well. “Count not on the gratitude of Kings,” was now an expression that I had personal knowledge of. He had cited a number of factors when refusing my petition. The dire mana situation in the capital, the conflict with Shadthe, and the fact that building an unfortified dungeon in a town was generally frowned upon.

Feh. If there was one thing I wanted my dungeon to be, it was convenient. Building it out in the wilds was all very well for Mandel, but I wanted—needed— to interact with people. I couldn’t hide out in the dungeon all day, I had things to do.

But when one door closes, another opens. The Tribal Council had been more receptive to the idea of sending more mana my way. Cleaning up the deliberate mess that they’d made around Talnier was proving more and more beneficial. And they were quite keen to make sure that the benefits didn’t all flow towards Latora. That didn’t mean they were willing to do it for free, of course.

“Actually, something might have come up. The Council might be willing to reduce their demands if you can help out with something.”

“Oh?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“This is all very preliminary,” Anas cautioned. “But would you be willing to travel into Tribal lands, if asked?”

“In principle, sure,” I said. “But I suppose you’re not able to give more details on where in the forest, how long it would take, or when it would be?”

“Not at this stage,” he admitted. “There is still heated discussion of the wisdom of asking you for help. But if Lady Kaito remains unavailable…”

Last I’d heard, Kaito and her girls had headed east. First to check that the treaty was holding, and then for more adventure further east. Kaito had expressed some interest in fighting sea monsters, which… well, each to their own.

“I understand,” I said. “So your Council needs a Champion, then?”

“I’m not sure of the details,” he confessed. “I was just asked to sound you out. Don’t take this the wrong way, but not all of the Elders have… positive feelings about you.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware I’d done anything to piss them off, specifically.”

“Some tribes are not in favour of the trade deal,” he told me. “Some Elders still remember the war and don’t want closer ties with Latora. They are in the minority, but the Council operates on consensus, so…”

“Well, that sounds like somebody else’s problem,” I said brightly. There were so few of those. “But if your Council can get its act together enough to ask something from me, I’ll see what I can do.”