Maikana
patreon
Chapter 63 – Asking the obvious question
🕑 Added 2025-06-06 02:31:59 +0000 UTCThe work of gathering the dried and hanging the fresh herbs went fairly quickly, though not without an awkward moment when Imelda asked if s
The work of gathering the dried and hanging the fresh herbs went fairly quickly, though not without an awkward moment when Imelda asked if she had heard about some brawl a pair of kobolds had gotten into earlier in the morning. Apparently by the time it had reached her ears, the tale had morphed into a hulking kobold having beaten one of their smaller kin and the guards having to break it up.
“That didn’t happen…” Kori tried to protest. “Zln just got a little… angry… at me. It was all just a misunderstanding.”
“Wait, that was you?!” Imelda exclaimed in shock while looking over the young kobold, surprised to find her uninjured.
“It wasn’t a big deal. Zln thought I had taken something I wasn’t supposed to and got mad at me. She didn’t even really raise her voice, let alone attack me.” Kori tried to downplay the whole event, not mentioning how the Animist’s voice had changed or the menacing aura that had been the cause of the guard’s intervention. “She’s just a bit… intense.” Kori proceeded to retell the story in its entirety, again leaving out the way Zln had channeled the spirits, partly because Kori still didn’t understand what exactly the woman had done.
She took the moment to examine the inkwell, and its inhabitant, that she had withdrawn from her satchel when she got to that part of the story. Its inner glow was still dimmer than usual, but not as much so as it had been right after it had clashed with the aura around the Animist earlier in the morning. She was glad that it didn’t seem to be permanently wounded and hopeful that it would continue to recover. She made a mental note to ask Zln about it, or maybe one of the other shamans back in the enclave.
Imelda was laughing uproariously by the time the story was ended, the dichotomy between the gossip that had spread like a flash flood and reality, at least as she had it described to her, seeming completely absurd. “To think they’d turn an argument into a street brawl, just because they were embarrassed to say they were scared of an angry kobold.” She eked out between giggles. “And that it was all over a little inkwell.” Waving to the offending object
“Well… Zln can be pretty scary when she’s mad.” Kori replied, giggling along with the infectious laugh of the older woman. This was apparently the wrong thing to say, just driving her further into her fit of laughter, which of course drove Kori further into her own.
Realizing no work was getting done until the pair had settled down, they moved off to the same chairs that the herbalist and Har had occupied the night prior. A pot of tea from earlier sat forgotten on the table, still lukewarm easily reheated on an inscribed metal plate to be shared. The rune was similar to those used by the clan but wrought in a much more ornate manner on the durable material.
The pair chatted amiably over their tea until the pot was drained, speaking about Kori’s herbalism tome and the impressive wealth of information that it contained. Imelda was surprised by the tradition of passing down the tomes as a rite of passage within the clans Circle, impressed that the knowledge was treated with such regard among the kobolds. She found the practice of creating the tome under the illusion of a crushing time limit to be ingenious, though also a little cruel. The intensity of the expectations forcing growth, though also creating significant stress that many human parents would undoubtedly object to strenuously during their own children’s apprenticeships.
The topic led naturally to questions about Kori’s own skills. Comparing her progress to an equivalently aged human was difficult, in one sense she was only four years old, a point at which the majority of races hadn’t even unlocked the system, but in another she was more similar to a human in their early teens. Either way she looked at it, the youngling was impressive, but the former made her seem like a prodigy while the latter just as exceptional.
With her progress on many fronts stymied for another two years while she was waiting on her Class, at least from a Skill level perspective, Imelda suggested she focus on supporting Skills and Titles. She expressed doubt that anything that could be easily achieved would surpass the Titles Kori had already gained on her own, though. Gaining the [Crafter of Curiosities] Title at tier was difficult, punching up a tier was ambitious to the extreme.
Near the end of their discussion, a suggestion was made. “I would say to work on your toxicology Skill, and perhaps things like measurement or a research Skill, but those are fairly hard to get without a scholar Job, not impossible like some others though.”
Kori was surprised at the comment, “Wait, there’s a measurement Skill?” She responded. Having assumed something so basic wouldn’t garner a Skill.
“Of course, there’s a Skill for nearly everything.” She replied off-handedly. “It’s honestly a very common Skill, mostly for builders and the like, but almost every crafter has some use for it. Until it specializes its useful no matter if you’re measuring in grams, meters, or liters.”
Kori pondered the Skill for a few moments, it would definitely save her some time when she was making her ointment or even when she was brewing with Aldr. Thinking about it, she was certain that the brewmaster had some form of the Skill himself, he’d been able to pour the exact right amounts of water and other ingredients every time with barely a look.
“That sounds like a useful skill.” She replied, “Will I just get it eventually if I keep making things? Or do I have to do something special?” She paused for a moment as though that was all she had to ask, but of course there was more. “Is it hard to level up? Do you have the Skill? Did you specialize it yet?” The questions spilled forth, only stopping when she was interrupted.
“Whoa, hold on. One question at a time, Kori.” Imelda held her hands up in vain effort to stem the deluge.
The only possible response to such a statement, one so antithetical to her nature, flowed from Kori’s lips before she had even bothered to consider the reasoning behind what was said, “Why?”
The response seemed to be the last thing that Imelda had expected to hear. Her expression shifted through a range of emotions beginning with confusion and progressing through stupefaction, bewilderment, befuddlement and finally resting on confoundment. These might seem like they were the same thing, but as much as each shared with the others, they had equal measure of their own unique identity in the manner of their expression.
“Why?” She replied. “Why is there a Skill for almost anything, or why only ask a single question at t time?” It appeared that she was hopeful it was the former, that she had simply misinterpreted the question asked and a much simpler answer was possible.
It was not. “Why only one question. I always have more than one question. If I only ask the one then how could I possibly get all them answered?”
Realization flashed across Imelda’s face, she was beginning to understand why Har had seemed so exasperated with the prospect of guiding the young kobold.
“If you ask too many questions, I might forget them, or answer the ones you consider less important, or we could become sidetracked before I get to the heart of the explanation.” The woman tried to explain.
“But if I don’t then I’ll have more questions from the first answer. Then I’d have to choose between new questions or old ones.” She shuddered at having to choose. The idea of holding back her questions, doling them out slowly while more and more questions piled on top of them was a harrowing one for Kori. She wasn’t sure whether she’d begin to forget the eldest of the queries or if her mind would bend under the load of them first.
Even to a casual observer, it was becoming more and more clear. No matter the explanation she might give, Imelda was on the losing end of this conversation. She tried to explain that it was polite, which of course was annulled by the obvious question of ‘why?’. She tried to clarify that the listener might get confused as to what to answer, which of course was overcome by the same response, ‘why?’. She tried to argue that it was simply how things were done, again countered with the monosyllabic ‘why?’. She tried to reason that it was more efficient, since some questions might be answered by an earlier response, this finally received a more verbose response.
“Then they’re still answered and you don’t need to answer it again.” Her response made as though it were the simplest of concepts. Which really, it was.
“I… I don’t…” Imelda stuttered. “I’m not even sure what started this conversation anymore…”
“Oh, I asked questions about the measurements Skill you mentioned. But then you got off track a bit. It’s okay though, I do that all the time too.” Kori helpfully replied, not at all reading the situation. “I can repeat them if you need me to.”
“No… no, it’s fine…” The woman replied, slumping defeatedly as though she had suddenly aged a decade or two.
Imelda quickly, and with few pauses or moments she could be interrupted in, explained what she knew of the Skill, one she did in fact have herself. It was something that almost all crafters would end up with eventually, whether through intent or simply exercising their craft, but it could be learned in a more targeted manner as well. To do so you simply needed a set of scales and some random objects. You didn’t even need to use the proper system of weights and measures to get the Skill, though you would want to learn about them while raising it to get the most out of the reinforced knowledge.
All you had to do was set a baseline measurement, such as beans, grains of sand, drops of water, or some other relatively consistent small unit, and then measure larger objects against your unit. If you could demonstrate that one rock weighed three hundred grains of sand and the other two hundred and thirty-five, you would acquire the Skill once you had measured enough objects under the same unit.
Now most people would use actual calibrated weights, ones that were known to be a specific number of grams. While this was better in the long run, as it kept things consistent with the process of using a universally understood measurement, it was actually a slower method of gaining the initial Skill itself. For some reason creating your own base unit was seen as a more worthwhile application of personal understanding and skill, and therefore also of Skill.
With the explanation completed, and the few ancillary questions either answered or waved off in whatever manner she could manage, the discussion finally turned back to Kori’s purpose in being there for the day. Namely in finding a means of reproducing her ointment using ingredients that were able to be procured in bulk, either by the gatherers that worked with the herbalists, who were often employed through the rather nefarious, at least from the kobolds point of view, organization known as the adventurer’s guild, or that they could directly cultivate in their gardens.
“I suggest we begin with creating a batch via your typical process.” Imelda began, “I would like to observe your methods, there may be a few pointers I could share.” There was a hint of pride in her voice, but not of arrogance. Her offer was one of guidance, not superiority.
The first thing Kori thought to reply was that she hadn’t brought any luminous moss with her, it wasn’t a surface plant after all, but she recalled having come across a few bundles of it in her scurrying through the buildings stores the night prior. “Okay. It might not be a very good batch though; your luminous moss is a bit dry.”
The concern was quickly waved off; it was a bit of a miracle that they had any of the stuff as it wasn’t like they had easy access to it. “That’s fine. We have other plants that we use to stave off infections, I buy a bit of the moss from your traders every few months since it keeps well enough and I’ve needed it to create treatment for kobolds now and then.” She explained, “It’s easier to use what you’re used to than risk poisoning you because we assumed a human treatment was fine.”
Kori tilted her head at the suggestion; it had never really occurred to her before that what’s good for a kobold might not be so good for a different species. “Huh.” She muttered. “I guess that makes sense…”
“That’s part of why I’m interested in your ointment there, once mana gets involved it usually smooths that type of thing out.” Imelda said while she grabbed a scrap of paper and began to write on it. “Okay, so luminous moss, what else do we need to get started?”
“Water.” Kori replied, the recipe not exactly a complex one.
“Well of course water, but what other herbs or ingredients do we need?”
“None. Just luminous moss, fresh and dried, and water.” Kori stated with a nod, a little confused at the face that the human was making at her. It was one she’d seen before but was still having a hard time deciphering the meaning of.
Imelda, who was looking at Kori like she’d grown a second tail, from the back of her head, took a few moments to reply. “Just… Water and moss… you made a magical ointment that restores health… with water and moss…”
