S_Winter
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Chapter Nine: Experiment
🕑 Added 2023-07-22 15:55:12 +0000 UTCBefore
Continuing my exploration of my stats, I consider Constitution next. From my status screen, it clearly determines my health at a 1:10 ratio, like Intelligence and mana. For a moment, I wish I’d looked at my status screen while I was injured – that way I could have a better idea of what the health points actually mean in real terms. Ultimately, though, I shrug – I know that getting injured is something to be avoided, and if I am too injured, I could die. Adding health points into the equation doesn’t really change anything, except that if I add points to Constitution, logically I make myself harder to kill. I mean, I’m assuming here that I can increase these values, but it seems like a reasonable assumption to make.
Strength seems fairly obvious, though the fact that it determines my stamina pool is interesting. Stamina, from my understanding, is based on how I’ve conditioned my muscles to deal with repeated stress, so I suppose it’s logical. Though, I do find it curious that mana and health are at a 10:1 ratio with Intelligence and Constitution, respectively, but stamina is at a 4:1 ratio with Strength.
Dexterity must be to do with my fine motor skill capabilities. I find the three in it rather insulting – I’m capable of writing and typing, both of which require fine motor skills! Then again, I suppose at the gym that I did focus a lot more on strength training with lifting weights rather than something flexible or reactive like martial arts. I guess that’s why I have the low stat here.
I do find the regen rates interesting: each is different. Wisdom has a ratio of 1:25 with mana regeneration, Willpower is at a 1:1 ratio with health regeneration, and Dexterity is at a 1:10 ration with stamina regeneration. Why? Maybe I’ll find out with the System stone.
I look at the final two stats thoughtfully. Both Strength and Dexterity are physical stats, as is Constitution. That makes the six stats equally split between physical and mental/magical. Should I be aiming to min-max, by focusing on one or two stats and forgetting the rest? Or should I go more for an even level across the board? Would focusing on Willpower so that I increase my health regeneration rate to fill my health bar in less than an hour be a way to avoid being hurt badly? No, probably not. At least not in the short term – if it takes me an hour to heal to full health, that wouldn’t help me if I had a cut artery. And that would take thirty-six points anyway which would take me who knows how long to collect – definitely not a winning strategy.
Actually, that reminds me. I scroll down to look at my Skills and concentrate on the entry for Lay-on-hands, wanting to get more information on it. What a surprise – it doesn’t work. The screen just sits there, stubbornly unchanged. I huff and dismiss it. Instead, I close my eyes and try to focus on the feelings and half-remembered memories that flashed through me when I absorbed the Skill stone.
I know that in order to use this Skill, I need to be touching the subject and concentrating. I know it’s not an instant fix; it significantly increases the subject’s regenerative capacity, but the more serious the injury, the more time and effort it will take to heal. I also get the sense that it can’t heal injuries which the body is incapable of healing by itself, given time. Where this means the practical limits are, I don’t know, not having much medical knowledge beyond the basics taught at school, but I guess that cuts are fine, but severed limbs might not be. And that’s disturbing as hell to consider seriously.
The next concept that comes through is that this healing Skill can be used on oneself as well as others; I didn’t realise that that was in question! Continued practice will improve efficiency and speed of the Skill’s effect. I open my eyes and sigh. I’m pretty sure that it uses mana, but none of the memories were actually clear about this.
Eyeing my knife, I wonder if I should test it – using something for the first time in an uncertain battle is never a good idea. I pick the weapon up and pose it over my arm, trying to psych myself up to actually cut into my flesh. I clench my jaw and fear runs through me, fear of pain, fear of it not working and having injured myself for no good reason. Actually, that’s a good point – why injure myself needlessly? The way things have gone so far, I’m likely to get injured soon, even if it’s only a sprained ankle. I can test it then. There’s no reason to believe that my first injury will happen in a battle.
Decision made, I put the knife to one side, pretending to myself that it wasn’t the unwillingness to cut my own flesh that weighed the heaviest on the scales of choice.
I should get some sleep, anyway. It’s been a tiring day so far, and I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow; better to be well-rested for it. Starting to prepare my bed – composed of arranging my extra layers to provide a bit of cushioning and coverage – I suddenly realise there was something I wanted to experiment with. My Inventory.
Why did my backpack fit in, but the bag that Nicholas gave me didn’t? Are there other criteria which I need to be aware of?
Half an hour – or thereabouts – of experimentation and I’ve come up with some answers. The reason my backpack worked and the satchel didn’t was because since my backpack can fully close with zips and overhanging flaps, it apparently counts as one item. The satchel which Nicholas gave me, which is actually more of a large leather pouch with a strap, doesn’t seem to count. It has a drawstring, but the leather of the mouth is stiff, and even pulling tightly doesn’t get rid of a small gap big enough to fit several fingers in. I decide to do some rearranging – putting the items which I think I will need at a moment’s notice in the leather bag, and trying to fit the rest in the backpack.
That requires me to unpack my backpack and suitcases so I can better arrange things. As I do that, I reevaluate the items based on my new circumstances. One of these I hold up with a smile – my favourite non-stick wok will definitely come in useful in the near future. Other items I shake my head at, like the packet of condoms, and the swimming costume. I debate throwing them away to make space for other items later, but in the end just tuck them away in the corner of my orange suitcase. I hate throwing things away – Murphy’s law always says I will need them the week after I’ve binned them. I won’t be in this forest forever, and if I desperately need space later, I can throw them away then.
I also look rather mournfully at my kindle and phone. Both probably have charge now, but that’s not exactly going to last. I keep them turned off in order to save battery, but also tuck them away carefully. Putting my backpack into my Inventory completes my preparations, and I find myself with little to do other than twiddling my thumbs. Sure, I’ve got my favourite physical books with me too, but I doubt I’d be able to concentrate enough to enjoy the story. Not with such an alien environment surrounding me, and the memory of already having been attacked once today. With only a knife to protect myself, I’m feeling just a little vulnerable.
Actually, that’s a point. Maybe I should make another weapon; one with a little more reach. If I make a spear, I could probably also use it as a walking stick. Looking around, I see a long stick which would probably work for now. It’s not as if I’m trying to make a work of art here, after all.
Pulling it closer to the fire, I use my knife to trim its end into a point. Fortunately, it’s a bit long for my needs because it takes me several attempts to get a decent point. By the end of my ‘carving’, the spear is just about long enough. It’ll do. It’s not like I’m lacking material to turn into spears after all. Now done, I’m back to twiddling my thumbs again. Maybe I should just sleep.
Of course, that’s easier said than done when you’re in the middle of a strange forest with no better weapon for protection than a knife and a sharpened stick. A forest which is remarkably loud considering it’s night.
Not to mention that there’s a surprising amount of movement going on around me. More than once, I feel something run over my bare skin, even over my face. Insects, mostly, but once it has enough weight to be a mouse or something. That wakes me right up and it takes me a while to get back into the mode of sleep.
The fire is another thing – I have to keep adding sticks to it otherwise it threatens to go out. Once more, not conducive to going to sleep. Probably mid-way through the night, I run out of firewood to feed it, clearly having underestimated just how much it would use. It’s probably also to do with the breeze that whips between the trees – the availability of oxygen makes the fire burn brighter and hotter, but also consumes fuel more quickly.
Then there’s the wind itself, which seems to excel in sending cold fingers through any tiny gap between the layers covering me, making me shiver every time that happens.
Eventually I do fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion despite all the distractions and challenges, but even then it’s not terribly restful. Not surprisingly, my dreams are filled with anxiety and stress.
Drifting between a half-consciousness and a full unconsciousness, I sometimes struggle to tell the difference between reality and dream. The dream I have of standing in my boss’s office as he tells me that my team and I are being replaced by an outsourced Human Resources outfit based in another country is far more believable than the reality of lying in a dark forest full of strange sounds.
Equally, dreaming of standing at my father’s grave as his coffin is lowered down into the ground is far too real. I’m more disorientated when I wake from the dream than during it.
The forest in the dark is far more dreamlike – the moonlight painting patterns of leaves across the ground, the sounds which would be more at home in a jungle. Even the other-worldly smells contribute to making the environment almost unbelievable. It wasn’t something I paid much attention to in the waking hours, but here with nothing else to do but lie here and experience the discomfort of my reality, the smells clog up my nose like a strong perfume in a lift.
When I finally fall into black unconsciouness, the moon has long since set and the forest is quieter than it’s ever been before. It seems like I’ve out-night-owled even the night-owls.
