Andrew's eyes bugged out of his head, "SERIOUSLY?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reginald let his head hang in shame. "Yes. Five. I was the firstborn male in my family and next in line to inherit my father's title. I'm the son of the count of Gulflund." He picked up his fork and poked at his food. "But Dad messed up. He broke the law, and that might have been manageable if he hadn't also failed to make any money and screwed over his partners."

 

Taking a deep breath, Reginald continued, "That was all the excuse my uncle needed. He had Dad arrested, claimed the title for himself, and then kicked me out of the county. I've been trying to survive ever since." He looked up at Andrew and spoke with no small amount of sarcasm, "So? Am I still someone you are looking for?"

 

Andrew ignored the question, "Why did you take so many levels? That makes no sense."

 

Reginald shook his head slowly. "I never had the opportunity to go out and do anything. I spent all my time at home, but there was always some kind of intrigue happening. Becoming a bard was... allowed because it seemed to be something that wasn't... dangerous. Honestly, I never expected to have to work hard, so I concentrated on being a count." He lowered his head, staring at his food. "Without enough levels in Aristocrat, you can't inherit the title, so I made sure I had enough, then focused on my hobbies."

 

Miriam spoke up, "I never heard of the class. Is it really that bad?"

 

Andrew nodded slowly, "Bad? It's like a fighter without good resistances, weaker hit points, and none of the combat perks. What they get is the ability to pick any skill. Any. That's the perk. You can take any skill as if it was in class. They also can learn any weapon and armor. But honestly, you'd be better off being a rogue if skills were your focus."

 

Reginald stared at the empty space over Andrew's shoulder, "That's a good way of putting it. There are other reasons to take the class. First, you need it to inherit a title. The more important the title, the more levels you need. Primarily, you need the levels to activate regalia."

 

The invisible Miriam echoed Reginald's words, "Regalia? What's that?"

 

"Most kingdoms, dukedoms, counties, and even a few baronies have magical items tied to their territory. Some are powerful weapons, while others are defensive in nature. This kingdom, for example, has one that allows for control of the weather." Reginald scratched the back of his neck. "The two limitations of Regalia are that they are tied to a specific area. They can only be used within that area. Also, depending on the item's strength, you need to have enough levels in Aristocrat to activate it. That's to ensure they don't fall into the hands of just anyone."

 

Andrew chimed in, "It's a security feature, just in case they get stolen. They're useless outside the land it was made for, and not just anyone can use it. By tying it to a class that nobody would normally take, it also makes it super cheap to make. Which is good considering most of them are super powerful." He narrowed his eyes at Reginald. "Isn't five levels a bit of overkill? I thought one level was enough to be a knight, two for a baron... five would be enough to be a... a king, I imagine."

 

"What can I say? I was an overachiever." Reginald looked ashamed and turned away,  Now that you know. I'm sorry you wasted your money on-"

 

"Whoa-whoa-WHOA!" Andrew waved a hand at Reginald to cut him off, "Who said this was a waste of money? It's a problem, but not insurmountable." Andrew rolled his hand in the air, "So... You are a... what level bard, exactly?"

 

Reginald squinted with one eye, "Uhhh... second."

 

Andrew clapped his hands together and then pointed at Reginald, "Second-level bard, fifth-level aristocrat. That's seven levels in total. You got a lot of potential."

 

Miriam made a small squeak, "Eh? Run that by me? Didn't you just explain how useless five of those levels are??"

 

Andrew went back to cutting up his meat, "Well, I could tell he was a bard at a glance, the aristocrat thing, well, that's a bit of an issue, but not a deal killer. Especially since the magazines are in play."

 

"Magazines?"

 

Andrew froze as he realized he had misspoken, then forced a smile as he looked up at Reginald. "Sorry, just a slang term from my college days." He quickly changed the subject. "There was a guy who was concerned about classes like yours, non-adventuring ones. I forget his name, but he worked on creating new advanced classes to maximize the potential of people in your situation. He developed one for Commoners, one for Warriors, one for Adepts, and..." He pointed his fork at Reginald, "one for Aristocrats." Andrew then went back to eating.

 

Reginald sat there impatiently until he could wait no more and finally slapped his hands on the table, "Explain!"

 

Andrew swallowed before speaking. "Oh. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "There's a class that's perfect for you. It'll make all your Aristocrat levels count toward your Bard levels for calculating features and spellcasting." Andrew stabbed another piece of beef. "More importantly, since Aristocrats have fighter combat advancement, even if they don't get the combat maneuvers, you should have a high enough base attack bonus to qualify for a certain set of bard-only combat maneuvers." Andrew eyed his fork, then looked at Reginald. "I'm talking about Snowflake War-Dance, of course." Andre squinted, "Any chance you picked it up already?"

 

Reginald blinked, "Snowflake what-dance?"

 

"Seriously?" Andrew was stunned by Reginald's ignorance, "It-It's the best combat maneuver an adventuring bard can get! It's why so many barbarians dip into bard! To learn the snowflake war-dance!" Andrew snorted, "And if you add the ideal weapon, it is amazingly deadly."

 

"I am of course speaking specifically of ..." Andrew then took a deep breath and spoke without pause, "A razor-sharp serrated Kakita-forged mighty Nagaika-style whip-dagger made of alchemical Torian-green dark-steel using oath-blooded fever-iron as the base which should be coated with omni-demonic silver tempered in the Ziglaguur fashion."

 

Andrew paused then added, "And if possible, the whip itself should be made from a roper tentacle and the hilt carved from a blue dragon's fang." He turned to Miriam, "Little known fact, you don't have to use a dragon fang as the blade when it's part of a whip. It still adds bonus damage as just the hilt because technically a whip falls under ranged combat. The bonus damage applies like a Dragon Fang Bow, instead of a Dragon Fang Dagger."

 

The funny thing about Bards, they have a special ability called bardic trivia. They have a chance to know basic trivia about just about anything. It's assumed that because they have learned to sing many songs, read a lot of stories, traveled extensively, and in general experienced life, they have a chance to know something about just about anything. This is important because Reginald had, at that very moment, gotten a critical success on his roll to understand 'obscure weapon materials and crafting techniques' and thus knew EXACTLY what Andrew was talking about, just how powerful such a weapon could be, and how utterly impossible it would be to make.

 

Reginald's jaw hit the floor, "What? Wait." He started to count off on his fingers, "That's..." He squinted, "Could you even make such a thing? All that extra fire and electrical damage..." His eyes went wide, "Do you have any idea how expensive such a weapon would be? That's before you even start ENCHANTING it!" He then suddenly got a look of dawning realization, "Hold it. Do you know where to FIND such a weapon?"

 

Andrew looked impressed, "Wow. Most people just get a glazed-over look when I start talking about specifics." He pointed at Reginald, "I knew there was something special about you." Andrew paused for a moment as he switched gears before answering Reginald's question.

 

"And no."

 

Reginald's face fell.

 

Andrew continued, "I do know how to make it."

 

Reginald slapped himself across the face, blinked furiously, then said, "You know... HOW? Such a thing would require the input of at least... what? Three different race-specific blacksmiths?"

 

"Up to five, actually. There are a few flourishes I'd want to add, but they're optional and can be skipped if needed." Andrew gave Reginald a wink, "Don't worry, I got an angle."

 

"An angle?"

 

"I'm a sage, of course, I know a workaround. DUH." Andrew picked his fork back up, "There's a spell that can polymorph any type of rock into any other form of rock." He pointed his fork at Reginald, "Did you know that technically unrefined ORE counts as a type of rock?" Andrew smirked as he took a bite and swallowed.

 

 

"Of course, you can't get something for nothing." Andrew took a sip of his water, "You need rock of equal value and there are limitations on volume, only a few cubic feet at a time." Andrew arched his eyebrows, "Alas, You can't just take a pile of coal and turn it into silver ore. So if you are trying to make something truly exotic, you need very expensive rocks to fuel the process."

 

"For example, an emerald the size of a man's head."

 

"Or, if you are desperate, you can use gold, but that takes a lot of work. You have to turn the processed gold back into ore and that's usually done by grinding gold into dust then mixing it with inferior materials, like sand. But honestly? If you have access to gemstones, stick with the basics, That's what I always say."

 

Reginald looked at Andrew in disbelief, "It's that simple?"

 

"Well... that... and you need to have made contact with the type of ore you want to create at some point in your life. Physically touch, that is." He pointed at himself, "Which I did while I was being trained as a divine librarian. It can be a bit dangerous, considering some materials are poisonous and kill on contact, but that's why you pay to go to a good school."

 

Reginald blinked, "You've handled omni-demonic silver?"

 

Andrew nodded as he resumed eating, "Of course. That stuff is amazing. If you have a weapon with a sharp edge, you can't go wrong with a thin layer of Omni-demonic silver." He paused to swallow, "They had a sample of every type of ore and alloy known to man at-" He paused, "The..." He frowned, "Hold it." He stared off into the distance, "Status." He started checking through his windows.

 

Miriam spoke up, "What's wrong?"

 

"I can't remember... I know I did. I remember doing it. There was a... a... place. I..." Andrew dismissed his status windows and rubbed both his eyes with the palms of his hands, "Am I losing my mind?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why can't I remember where I went to college?"