Battleforged
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Chapter 259 - Morning Practice.
🕑 Added 2023-02-24 04:00:01 +0000 UTCEric couldn’t help but wake up with a smile, feeling a weight finally ease off his shoulders.
He had done it. Against overwhelming odds, and what seemed to be enemies around every corner, he had managed to crack the vise that had all but sealed his sister’s fate. And how good it had been, to see her relieved smile, to hold her close and let her know that, even now, with the world thrown into absolute chaos and madness the order of the day, he was still here for her. Still had her back. Always and forever.
And even better, his exceptionally brilliant sister had actually managed to help him evolve his gift in ways he had so hoped he could, but had seemed more like a desperate dream than any sort of likely outcome. Having only taken it on faith that maybe, eventually, he’d be able to evolve his runic chants in ways that didn’t take all his concentration and endless seconds, sometimes half a minute, to make full use of.
Yet after a single admittedly perilous training session, using a magnificent magitech wonder that had allowed him to actually tap into his sister’s insights, he gained the benefit of literally thousands of hours of training in what seemed a single night. Rewriting his synaptic connections in ways that would have no doubt terrified him in any other situation, save the one where his sister was the one leading the way.
“And now I have spells powerful enough to bring even goblin shamans to their knees,” he thought aloud with a fierce smile. Before furrowing his brow, suddenly not sure if that part of what had happened had been true peril… or perhaps a final test, for Eric to prove just how well he had mastered his pair of spells.
“As it turns out, pretty fucking well,” he said with a smile, before summoning a certain trio of prizes, two of which he had all but given up on learning how to use with so few teachers and so many opponents to be wary of, now gazing with a certain amount of bemused wonder at the exquisitely constructed trio of ebony wands that he now felt a connection to beyond anything he could have hoped for. Fire, Ice, and Lightning. All three were now at his command.
He felt that truth to the depths of his soul. Before feeling a sudden twinge of anxiety. Because ultimately, the entire training session, wondrous as it had been, still felt like no more than a dream.
“Time to prove it,” he said softly to himself as he took in the luxurious bedroom he found himself in, smiling at the thousand count cotton sheets covering the plush mattress of his four-poster bed, the golden shafts of sunlight muted by the vanilla cream drapery. His naked feet delighted in the feel of thick plush sapphire blue carpet to peer through what was, in fact, a patio door leading to a vast, palatial inner courtyard comprised of countless flower beds and a hedge maze.
He gazed down at the wands in his hands before catching sight of his own reflection in a full-length vanity mirror. His features still looked air-brushed and eerily perfect, though no glossy magazine cover would ever be able to capture the cold sapphire blue flash of eyes that radiated an intensity it would have chilled him to see looking back at him through the gloom.
He chuckled at his own reflection, the face now bright with mirth and good cheer, a pair of exquisitely rendered tattoos glittering like sapphires under his eyes were the only marks of what had once been the most horrific of scars, before condensing to the most exquisitely potent of essence tattoos. Even his hair looked more like spun gold than the actual corn-silk blonde locks he had been born with.
If anything, his rumpled attire came as a relief, proving like nothing else that he was still human, not just staring at some exaggerated version of himself trapped in a neverending lucid nightmare, having slept who knew how long in what were now exceedingly crumpled collared shirt and slacks that were just a bit too tight, the seems already popping at the shoulders.
Pausing only long enough to relieve himself, brush his teeth, and drink from a silver carafe of water, Eric closed his eyes and summoned his soul linked padded gambeson in the blink of an eye, though he had to take a few moments to don his armor as well.
Yet he couldn’t help but smile at the comforting weight of 500 pounds of spirit-forged mithril armor as he headed out the patio door, taking a deep whiff of the glorious blossom-scented air that seemed to promise eternal spring before carefully making sure that there were absolutely no innocent passersby, and that the distance between palatial wings really was as gloriously absurd as it had seen from inside his bedroom suite.
Much to his surprise, it really was.
So he didn’t hesitate to summon forth one of the few remaining tusker corpses he had, free of any markings, a good fifty feet from his room, between a pair of rose and tulip flower beds and just before the maze before frowning in thought and deciding that, yes, a couple braces of cannons were just the thing to make sure that there was no unexpected blowback.
Thus it was only when tusker and cannons were both placed, and secured just so, that Eric began making use of the magics his sister had helped him unlock so many secrets regarding, turning a growing apprentice’s understanding into an Adept’s first glimmerings of mastery as he carefully strung together the runes of power that would bend reality to his will. And since it was a chant and not one of his precious few spells, he took the time to carefully link the runes together and voice his will upon the world.
“Mollet roboro herbam plures dies!”
And suddenly there was a massive thick wall of tree trunks tightly bound together, radiating the essence of wood, resilience, and strength, all used in conjunction for multiplicative effect.
He smiled in satisfaction at what was now an impressive palisade wall as both mana and Qi reserves dipped a bit. And only now, with three layers of defense, did he feel comfortable with training in the palatial courtyard, backing up a good fifty feet to just outside his patio door before whispering the words that would command even the legions of dead to follow his head.
“Surge, centuria! Imperator imperat tibi!”
The air seemed to echo with words ringing in the air for endless seconds as a full hundred of Eric’s eternal soldiers erupted from the earth, fists slamming to chests as they kneeled before him.
“Ave Imperatro Abedimus!”
Eric gazed thoughtfully down at his saluting men. “At ease. Our mission right now is simple. You’re all to stand in ten rows of ten, and I’m going to test my wands and arcane spells on you. Your job is to resist destruction, and survive as best you can.” He flashed a tight smile. “Of course I hope for your continued service, for every day you fight by my side is a day you can feel the grass under your feet, the sunlight against your skin, and remember what it means to be alive. And every night you rest within my ring is a night of peace, where you may savor your warmest memories within endless halcyon dreams.” His gaze hardened. “Free of any torment that might, or might not, be waiting for you in the hereafter.”
He rubbed his chin. “But all that being said, should any of you be so damaged by our… training, that you wish to leave my service… I will accept it, so long as we agree that our mutual debt is paid. No ties of karmic hate will bind either one of us in the next life. For those of you that wish to continue tasting life’s sweet nectar and fight on? I have no doubt that our next battle will find you all back at perfect health.”
Eric blinked when all one hundred revenants instantly slammed fists to chest and stood in position, ten rows, ten men deep, the orc-sized bayoneted muskets and in some cases, rifles, held like the spears they really were. Of course, there were only a few feet between each row since each of his revenants was at least eight feet tall, and both broad and thick, with a good 600 pounds of mass at a minimum when he factored in their heavy hauberks of black iron.
In addition to being the deadliest soldiers he could hope to field, he was almost certain they’d make perfect test dummies. But since moral was also a thing, even for the dead, he gave them a get out of service free card. Because he’d far rather a hundred troops depart happily, then 15,000 soldiers who felt betrayed by their commander. Even if another part of him knew his control was absolute, and his concern was absurd.
But how many people said thank you to an automated machine programmed to act like a person every day? Because in the end… you never knew when that courtesy might pay off. The semi-sentient AI that didn’t arrange for traffic to smash into the rude pedestrian. The undead soldier that didn’t deliberately fail his enemy resistance check.
Or maybe it was pointless paranoia. Either way, grace was its own reward. For peace of mind, if nothing else.
Pausing only long enough to clear his mind of extraneous thoughts, Eric picked up a wand he had struggled with for months, utterly failing to understand its secrets. Until he had been gifted with countless insights in what still felt like a dream, now pointing the blue tipped wand at the closest row of revenants.
“Glacie Pilum!” he roared, eyes widening with both awe and wonder when a massive five-foot long spear of ice launched in a streak of snow before striking the closest revenant dead center, causing the creature to lurch back half a foot as the icicle shattered against, but failed to penetrate, his target’s iron hauberk.
Eric frowned, delight turning to a thorough appraisal as he approached his revenant, lifted up the mail hauberk, and felt what was just a tiny divot in what was effectively a 45th level revenant’s chest.
Not more than a dent. He then sighed, dropped the shirt, and got back into his casting position, this time aiming for his target’s leg.
“Glacie Pilum!” His smile widened when the five foot long ice dart whistled through the air with sufficient force to pierce the revenant’s leg, before shattering when it hit bone.
Eric again took a careful look at the damage, which he was sure would have looked much bloodier and more impressive on a live target than the modest inch-wide hole in his revenant’s massive thigh.
He then cast it few dozen more times, focusing as much on the wondrous chilly feel of ice magic flowing through his soul, perfecting his link to the wand just as much as he was refining his accuracy, happy to find that he could accurately strike a target’s eye at fifty feet with just a bit of practice, and of course, thanks to his rather high Finesse score.
Most importantly, however, was the sense that, by the time he was done, facing one highly perforated revenant with an exceedingly mangled face and near crippled legs, he was well and truly one with his wand.
Ice Wand is now at Rank 6!
Ice Wand is now at Rank 7!
Congratulations! You’re ability to attune yourself to the flow of Ice is now equivalent to your ability to channel the flow of Fire in arcane constructs! Arcane Skill: Ice Wand has been unified with Fire Wand into the general Elemental Wands Skill!
Elemental Wands is now at Rank 8!
He flashed a satisfied smile as he gazed down at the instrument whose power he could now sense so intimately. Almost an extension of himself. And with the 10 mana cost being just a fraction of what using his Runic Arts cost him, it was a useful tool to have in his armamentarium. With that thought in mind, he thought it was the perfect time to use his unorthodox arts to truly make this wand’s magic an extension of his own.
Unified with his soul.
And if his hunch was right, it would make him all the more attuned with the magic of water, ice, and cold as well.
So he took a deep breath and embraced his most perilous art, taking comfort in his massive potency buffer, already more than half way to level 37, which was many times the experience pool he had between levels 9 and 10.
But still, considering how much of his life force had been lost, just daring to imprint an arcane sniper rifle not that long ago, his smile was more a grimace of fear than anything else as he flooded his wand with crimson power. A fear that quickly turned to wonder, his understanding and mastery of the wand in his hand clicking like never before as he truly became one with the arcane construct in his hand, now understanding it on an intimate, fundamental level beyond even what he had experienced while learning its secrets at his sister’s side.
“Yes!” Eric hooted as the interface filled him with happy messages, noting only the tiniest blip in his experience pool, the wand itself so light it barely made a dent in his Soul Reserves at all.
Congratulations! You have successfully Soul Bound: Ice Wand!
This wand and the secrets it possesses are now just an extension of yourself! If damaged, you may repair it for minimal potency cost. You may summon this extension of yourself from your ES Space as fast as thought!
You have discovered the arcane constant of cold! Inverse to an essence you know so well, you have begun to glimpse the essence of cold itself. A chill beyond absolute zero, the perfect inverse to fire’s fury!
You now know the Lesser Rune: Congelo!
Adept Runic Lore is now Rank 23!
Apprentice Arcane wands is now Rank 9!
Eric gazed thoughtfully at the wand, almost surprised he had learned the rune for freezing cold and not something related to water or ice, but he supposed it made sense, as cold was definitely an element of the wand’s function, and the inverse of both his strongest Essence, and one of his three Cultivation elemental affinities.
Now, he just needed to see how strong it really was.
He glanced at his somewhat worse-for-wear revenant, quickly putting together the most simple of all chants. A single target, a basic effect, of immediate duration. “Congelo unus hodie!”
He cracked a smile at the sight of his revenant’s skin taking on a definite pale hue, glad that he had chosen a soldier under his command, actually able to see an interface accounting of all the damage suffered, including a significant reduction in his basal temperature and presently being affected by the slow debuf. A debuff that would quickly fade as he warmed up again.
He turned to a completely intact revenant beside the first.
“Congelo unus dies!”
He checked his interfaced, pleased to find that this revenant had suffered the same reduction in basal temperature, and would be under the slow debuff until sunset, thanks to the extended duration of his modified chant.
He furrowed his brow slightly when a pair of green dots blipped on screen, before being pulled back to the real world at the sound of polite applause, turning to gaze at none other than the Winter Queen herself, his mother, wearing high end summer clothes similar to the ones Elonia had shown off in so many modeling shoots last year while she was glowing with health and at the absolute top of her form. Absolutely identical in appearance, in fact, to the woman now gazing at him with the same familiar twinkling eyes and bemused smile that for one dizzying moment Eric wasn’t sure if he was gazing at his mother for whom he had such mix feelings for, or his sister, who he felt so protective of and adored.
For an odd revelatory moment, he saw the strikingly beautiful woman before him, with her flawless features, high cheekbones, jewel green eyes, and teasing smile as both. Two reflections of a single eternal soul. The sweet gentle girl her mother once was, before life’s bitter lessons had hardened her over countless centuries. A deadly sorceress who could obliterate her foes while still being the clever twin with the quick wit and gentle smile who had eased so many of life’s sharp edges for him.
Both one and the same. Yet entirely different.
And when the oddly apologetic lilt to her smile gave away who she truly was just an instant that had felt like a lifetime later, Eric felt the ice over his own heart crack and melt, beholding a woman who could have been Elonia’s reflection. And was. Having birthed and loved them both. Even if she had been far harsher at times than Eric would have preferred, she was a mother who had to be fierce, independent, and strong, without the constant support and love of a brother like himself for that lonely Elonia of just a generation back.
Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, pained by the thawing in his heart for a woman he had been so ready to see as a bitter adversary. His foe. The woman who had given birth to him. Who had held him so close and loved him so tenderly during his most tender, fragile years. He and Elonia both.
A woman who once had been just as gentle and fragile as his sister.
The woman his Elonia would one day be forced to become.
Eric took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet his mother’s surprisingly anxious gaze. “Hello mom.”
Her smile lit up her features like the noonday sun. “A fair morning to you, my lastborn son. I didn’t realize you had an affinity for Winter’s gifts. What a pleasant surprise.”
Eric flashed a cheeky smile. “Would you believe I just unlocked that runic word for Freeze about five minutes ago? I’m just experimenting with it right now. But if you hold on a moment… I think I have something that will impress you.”
Her throaty laugh warmed his heart. “To hear you say that, mastering the secrets of your wand and transforming it into a spell in a single morning. You have already impressed this old sorceress’s heart. But by all means, my darling. Show me what you can do.”
He suppressed the giddy excitement he suddenly felt, internally smiling at the thought of a boy eager to impress his mother.
He took a deep breath and focused on the memory of one of the handful of runic chants he had cast while in that training chamber, the memories oddly clear, for all that they simultaneously felt as real as a dream.
“Roboro ventus! Iram congelo! Plures attentio!” Eric chanted over thirty long seconds. Far too long to use effectively in combat.
But the results, as a howling wind suddenly blew from his hands as both his major potency pools dipped by a hundred or so points, was everything he could have hoped for, his sentinels actually forced to lurch back as howling winter winds washed over them, rapidly chilling their cores, all of them getting the slow debuff, Eric pleased to see that there were additional levels to that slow debuff but unable to reach the freeze he had been hoping for, but still forcing his centurai back.
When a frowning Eric cut off his howling gale a good thirty seconds later, his mother was chuckling throatily, looking as close to ecstatic as Eric had seen in quite some time.
“Wonderful, my son. Absolutely wonderful! Truly, if I had ever doubted your potential before, then I was sadly mistaken.”
Eric quirked a smile. “Thanks, mom. But, well, if you had my interface you’d see that despite looking kinda cool with icicles dangling off my boys, they took very little damage and all of them are severely slowed. Still, if I can actually manage to link all those runes together in a fast cast Runic Spell, which Elonia assures won’t be for quite awhile, it’s a great crowd control spell, if nothing else.”
His mother gazed at him for long moments, her smile tightening as she tilted her brow, her gaze that of someone gazing upon something both humorous, impressive, and inconceivably stupid.
Eric winced. “Ouch.”
Her mother sighed. “Eric, you do realize the significance of your targets, don’t you?”
Eric frowned, gazing at his legions. He wasn’t about to order them to slam fists to chests, as they were definitely slowed, and he didn’t want anything brittle to crack, but otherwise they looked fine
He turned back to his mother and shrugged. “Nope. They look the same as always. Just a bit stiff at the moment. Ha ha.” He winced at his mother’s expression. “That was a joke.”
“Eric. Those are revenants.”
Eric smirked. “Correct.”
His mother’s gaze hardened.
Yup. She definitely thought he was an idiot.
“Those are forty-fifth level revenants. Former Berserkers and Spearmen, if I’m not mistaken. And even I recognizes the sigil for Resilience glowing with eldritch light upon all of their foreheads.”
Eric grinned. “Yup, massive health and resistance booster right there. +10% Vitality and durability for each necromancer perk I have that enhances my revenants! And trust me, I got a lot.”
His mother nodded. “I know. Because you actually managed to secure a Master Necromancer Profession.”
Eric whistled innocently. “Maybe?”
His mother smirked. “A goal countless summoners strive for, with very few ever getting beyond the Standard Necromancer or Conjurer classes. I know of only three tied to various factions here on Earth that actually achieved an Advanced Variant, and Grim himself is doing all he can to secure Adept tier Professions and Adventuring Classes for himself and his still mortal disciples.”
Eric blinked. “Okay...”
His cheeks flushed when his mother actually gave him a cajoling smile. Like she was talking to a clueless little boy, which he most certainly was not.
“Think, darling. In what online or tabletop role playing game, among the countless variants both you and your sister so obsessively played, have undead, particularly undead summoned and controlled by a ‘Master Necromancer,’ ever been affected by the cold?”
Eric blinked, a slow flush crawling over his cheeks.
Shit.
He hated feeling stupid.
His mother’s grin widened. “Look at the grass, Eric. Or the pair of rabbits that had been nibbling on their breakfast. Or, perhaps, your sister’s hedge maze.”
Her mother’s grin turned positively wicked when Eric looked at the frost-covered evergreens that, yes, had most definitely frozen, no matter that Eric had his bulwark in place… his howling winds had washed over the area and right over his triple layer wood carcass steel backstop.
Eric winced when his mother solemnly handed him a statue of a rabbit so lifelike Eric knew it was real. Knew it was one of the creatures that had no doubt been happily grazing before getting caught in his spell.
“Oh,” Eric said, sighing as he put the rabbit down. Before flashing a wicked grin. “Time to do something really, really, evil.”
His mother quirked an eyebrow, then laughed when Eric said the words he knew he just had to say.
“Surge, centuria! Imperator imperat tibi!”
Within seconds, the frozen rabbit began to twitched its whiskers, snow-blind eyes abruptly blazing with eldritch flame. The absurdly cute little revenant seemed determined to salute Eric, paw to chest, before the magic of its own raising thawed it out, just as it healed every other injury.
“Ave Imperator Abedimus!” The little thing squeaked, and Eric couldn’t help but laugh at his mother’s horrified expression, that made the surprising amount of potency surging out of his Soul Orb worth it.
“I hereby name you… Bunbun!” Eric smirked and winked at his mom. “How’d you like a Level 25 bunny with the Resilience perk, Mother? No badger will dare fuck with your roses ever again.”
Aurelia actually laughed. “No wonder you loved the Adams family. You’d fit right in.”
Eric smirked. “It actually cost me a bit of potency, funneling in a soul for the bunny. But the expression on your face makes it all worth it.” He cleared his throat. “But, seriously...”
She adamantly shook her head. “No, Eric. I don’t want your undead rabbit.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Though if it had any interesting offensive abilities...”
Eric winced. “Yeah… I know it’s incredibly tough and fast, fast enough to keep up with me during a death march. But honestly? I have no idea how tough a level 25 bunny might be. And since I don’t particularly want to hurt any more innocent bunnies just as an experiment...”
“Save for the ones you’ve already frozen to icicles.”
Eric nodded while putting the little rabbit on his shoulder, who seemed quite happy to perch there. “Exactly. And now I have a pet. Sort of.”
He closed his eyes, doing his best to sense his revenants. He frowned, getting the vaguest sense of… contentment from most. Even the slowed and nearly frozen ones. And from just a few, a desire for the sweet caress of oblivion. “She seems perfectly content being an undead bunny.”
His mother sighed. “I’m sure she is. But please don’t bring her inside the palace. Alright, dear?”
Eric shrugged. “It’s not my pad, so sure. Host’s rules, as far as pets go.” He then winced at the sight of what truly was a hedge maze frozen solid. Not to mention countless beds of roses and tulips, presently twinkling prettily in the morning sun under a thick sheet of ice. That which hadn’t been torn completely from the ground by the force of the winds, of course. “Say, you don’t think I could maybe...”
He winced to feel his mother’s steely hard grip tighten about his wrist, solemn eyes gazing intently into his own as she slowly shook her head. “No, Eric. Your sister does not want beds of undead zombie roses. Trust your mother in this, if nothing else.”
Eric forced a chuckle, self-consciously scratching his head. “Yeah, I can see how Elonia might not find that as funny as I would.”
His mother’s features turned mock stern. “And I strongly suggest that you resist the urge to give any girl bundles of undead flowers, or muck around their gardens under any circumstances, lest you would find yourself a confirmed bachelor for life.”
Eric winced. “Alright! I was kidding! Mostly.” He shrugged. “I mean, we don’t even know how such a mad confluence of necromantic and arboreal magics would work, do we? But still, wouldn’t it be interesting if...”
“No. No, it wouldn’t, Eric. Not at all.” His mom forced a too bright smile. “Were there any other spells you’d like to practice before breakfast?”
Eric grinned, pulling out his lightning wand. “Actually, there was.”
His mother nodded in approval. “Embracing all the elements of the killing storm. Well done, my son.”
She stepped back, gesturing towards Eric’s slowly thawing revenants. “By all means, proceeded. Breakfast can wait, and I do so enjoy seeing you come into your own, darling.”
Eric smirked at his mother’s words, not entirely sure how sincere she was being, but happy enough to savor the innocence of their reunion, and ride the wave of inspiration still tingling within his soul.
So when he had the sudden urge to jut out his wand, stiff armed as he recalled doing so in his lucid dreams, he didn’t hesitate to do so, face splitting in a wide grin as the air cracked with the sound of lightning, brilliant light sparking from multiple sets of chain mail as his bolts blasted into the closest revenant before ricocheting through half a dozen more.
“Fulmen Pilum! Fulmen Pilum! Fulmen Pilum!”
Each bolt drained him of twenty mana. Four times as expensive to use as a fire wand, twice as pricey to use as an ice wand, it was a number that had brought poor Alice to the point of mana exhaustion after just a few castings. Mana that, if she couldn’t use her blood-magics to get it right back with an in-combat kill, would take her a full eight hour’s rest to fully recover.
But with his Elven heritage allowing Eric to instinctively recuperate a percentage of his arcane energy every second, and with a mana pool of over 1500, he could recharge his mana far quicker than he could ever cycle back his Qi Pool, even after months of cultivation practice. Which meant that even his Lightning Wand was a weapon he could unleash all day, if he bothered to pace himself at all.
Howling the trigger words and savoring the feel of the storm as lightning bolt after lightning bolt tore through his revenants, ERic was no longer alarmed or distressed that his spell seemed to be doing very little harm to them at all, save for leaving some occasional singe marks. For they were already dead, and the delicate bio-electrical surges vital to both heart and brain had been supplanted by the most exquisite of necromantic arts.
Which meant that his patiently standing revenants might have smelled a bit like burnt hair by the time ten brilliant blasts of lightning became twenty, but they were otherwise none the worse for wear. And Eric was happy to concede that there was a perk to being able to fire at will, without permanently imperiling his troops. Because what could be better than shooting bolts of lightning into hard fought melee if it killed, crippled, or at least stunned his foes, but did nothing to his revenants that could then finish off their prey?”
Yet no matter how Aurelia clapped her approval, soon giving subtle hints that there were shared activities that would profit them both to attend to, Eric couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. That he was almost, but not quite, on the verge of a breakthrough.
A breakthrough he was determined to make his own.
“Fulmen Pilum!” He said with a snarl, as his fiftieth bolt slammed home in a brilliant flash and shower of sparks as the currents tore through all the revenants behind the lead. And save for a single eye popping, no damage had been suffered at all, save for smoking hide and a quickly patted out scalp that had caught ablaze underneath the owner’s helmet.
Congratulations! You’re ability to attune yourself to the flow of Lightning is now equivalent to your ability to channel the flow of both Fire and Ice in arcane constructs! Arcane Skill: Lightning Wand has been unified with Fire and Ice into the general Wand Skill!
You have successfully unified your arcane understanding of Terran Artificer’s three primary elements!
Apprentice Arcane Wands is now Rank 10!
You have achieved Journeyman Status with all Elemental Wands! You now enjoy a permanent +3 bonus to Arcane Reserves as a result of your ever-growing mastery over the arcane arts! - 1 Perk Point deferred!
Comments
Nice tribute to Sluggy... love switchblade wielding bunnies
Harb
Hope he can find a switchblade for his rabbit
M van Dongen
Ware PERK SELECTION CLIFF! The Perk selection could have been included I think....
