1.28 A Hint of Tier
"Goblins aren't too far off from humanity. They are reasonable, intelligent and build societies. But they have three main differences that cascade in little ways into their culture and ethics. Any ideas?"
Master Tosk paused for them to respond, but all three shook their heads. "They're short? I think they age a little faster?" Vicktor added, they hadn't really talked about culture in the lectures, mostly just about their intelligence and similarities to humans. Master Tosk waved a hand from side to side, indicating that it was partially correct, but not enough.
Nora tried to answer next, "They are short, their heads included. Wouldn't that have cognitive effects as well as sexual selection?" Master Tosk waved his hand in the same gesture, another partially correct answer.
Alar gave an answer in the form of a question. "There's some reason we don't cohabitate more easily and that this quest exists at all. Their gods would have to be different from our gods in some obvious and notable ways."
Master Tosk smiled at his feathered apprentice. "That's not really an answer, but it does help us approach the answer more easily and more rationally. Not that culture and society is ever fully rational."
He let a moment of silence fill the stone room, he beamed at them. It seemed he really missed being able to teach. Wherever he had gone must've been emotionally tough.
"It's always about the physical traits with those idiots, never about impacts. The three main differences are all BECAUSE of their lifespan. They age about three times faster than humanity. Six years to adulthood, thirty years to death. Any goblin your age would be grey-skinned and grey-haired. EXCEPT of course?"
Master Tosk gestured to each of them individually, but nobody responded, everyone seemed to think internally, until Nora let out a loud, "OH!"
The catkin began, "If they advanced, even a tier one Chosen would outlive generations! Advancing doesn't slow aging linearly. It delays the onset of aging. A tier one Chosen of humanity is already expected to live to a hundred and fifty. A tier two even more. Humanity has a healthy balance of Chosen and Mages. But if it takes 10 years of training to be a proper Mage like Vicktor, by the time they have a chance of advancing, they would be the equivalent of a forty-five year old!"
Master Tosk pointed to her with a green hand and smiled. A little sphere of white light emitted from the tip of his finger. It quickly shifted into a green check mark, glowing around the edges an inch above his hand. With a flick of a finger, the green light soared into Nora's chest, dissipating the moment it hit her form.
"Exactly! Their gods use that fact to shift the balance of power towards conflict instead of education, they naturally get less time out of each follower, so they need incentive for them to advance more aggressively. They aren't stupider than us, just less of them choose academic pursuits since it's so much of their life, because yes, only the really talented ones would advance to the point. Their mages actually have the same tier system as chosen. I mean technically humans do too, but their society has different thoughts about mages hiding their power level."
Master Tosk sighed then continued, holding up two fingers, each grew a little golden exclamation mark above their scaly finger tips.
"We have two goals in our quest. First is to repair a bridge that is used for Intercity trade. It should have been maintained by a tribe known as the Oakskins, the second is to figure out why that same tribe shot at the last trade caravan that was sent their way. A man and woman died protecting the retreat and we want at least some form of justice for them. Any questions?"
They all sat in silence.
Vicktor raised his hand, "Master? Aren't we a little underpowered, three apprentices and one master doesn't seem like a warparty or a delegation? If it's anything like Allium they'll have tier six chosen and high rank mages."
"Good question, but thankfully for many reasons, it's not like Allium. Goblins tend to get harassed less by the beasts of this world. There are reasons, but there are also reasons why I can't tell you why yet. Their leader is only a tier four chosen, he is unlikely to have turned against us, it's likely some local politics of the lower tiers."
Alar's owl-eyes widened and then he raised a feathered hand to speak. "How strong are you, Master Tosk? Certainly not equivalent to a sixth tier. You would be off protecting a city if you were."
Master Tosk bellowed a laugh. "It's like asking a woman her age, especially a Master. Some people might be honest, but others might fully enjoy lying through their teeth. I've done similar things, rarely to apprentices though. I won't lie to the three of you. But it is in the best interest of your future and the future of the world that some information is hidden until the proper time."
The three apprentices looked disappointed, but Master Tosk laughed again, this time drawing the numbers zero through seven in the air. They stayed in the air as blue hovering lights.
"Tier Zero is for the mundanes, of which plainly I am not." The number popped into a burst of red light.
"Tier One is for Mages, who you all technically are, even if only one of you went through proper schooling. None of you can do this fancy light show even if you shared my fundamental principle and did material creation. Which, by the way is:"
FIRE BURNS IN EVERYTHING
The room and everything in it began to glow as if in a kiln, sweat beaded off Vicktor's face as the heat threatened to cook him. Until suddenly it all returned to how it had been before, as if nothing had changed. "Neat, right?"
The three spared glances at each other before returning their gaze to Master Tosk, not a bead of sweat on his face. The lizardkin chortled. "Oh, and don't expect me to be like some kooky old mentor in a storybook tale. I am kooky, old, and a mentor, but I'll be around to bother your great grandkids if you aren't sick of my antics by then. At my age you have to live a little."
The apprentices looked confused, they knew he looked maybe forty, but who knew how old that meant at whatever tier he was at. Such things were secret for a reason, but based on the common knowledge about how chosen aged, he was likely at least 2 tiers above them at a minimum.
"Shall we continue? Tier two is for Rectors, anyone tier two or above may be called Master, Rector, or whatever title they decided to give you. Generally don't trust any label someone says unless you know how to verify it. I could be one, but because of the general importance of this mission and some other factors, a tier two would be too low." The number two shrank into nothingness.
"Tier Seven is for the gods, but don't repeat that to the chosen, they get a little annoyed" That number popped into a swirl of rainbows. "That's the obvious stuff."
"Now we get to the interesting spread of your aged powerful mentor, I could realistically be anywhere from tier three to tier six. Hard to tell really. You haven’t lived long enough to guess how I age." he smiled, gesturing his fingers.
The four remaining numbers began to dance in a circle, pulsing like candlelight.
"You didn't recognize it as such, but I have demonstrated a tier four ability in front of you three cannibal apprentices." The number three popped like fireworks.
"There are more flashy things I could do, but sometimes a Mage has to be tactful. Showing power without wasting mana is a skill all on its own."
The three apprentices stared openly, mouths agape. Most Masters were probably only just Rectors. Each tier up was exponentially more powerful.
'Why would someone so powerful still want to teach new apprentices? Especially the three of them? Were Nora and Alar special in some way he couldn't see?'
"We will be leaving tomorrow afternoon. Vicktor, go meet with Master Zert where it trained you before. Alar and Nora, we have some specific tactics to discuss."
"Yes Master Tosk," Vicktor bowed and departed. It wasn't strictly necessary, but Vicktor wanted to show appreciation for his strange, powerful Mentor.
'It's going to be fun with him back. Perhaps less intimacy, but who knows how we'll be travelling.'
As he closed the door of Master Tosk's cabin, he let out a dumb laugh.
"And they were tentmates?!"