It had been a couple of days since I woke up in Westeros. In that time, I got one more pull on the invisible gacha wheel of life. It happened after I took the time to learn the names of the Baelish servants.
Which Petyr apparently never did. How much of an asshole do you have to be that just learning your servant's name is considered an accomplishment worthy of reward?
Click!
[A One notched Step of Companionship appears before you. The step is yours to take…]
Luckily, it was a great one.
[Companion Crow]
[Trash Familiar]
A very smart and loyal crow companion with intelligence on the level of a human, she can look for and fetch shiny things or do things a crow could otherwise do.
"What do you think of the name 'Morgan'?" I asked while feeding a crow a bit of fish.
She swallowed it and seemed to think it over. Then she nodded. I grinned.
Morgan, as she was now named, was a familiar. Labeled as a smart and loyal crow as smart as a human, she basically followed my commands to the letter.
I was very happy with her. Crows are cool, man. Smart, loyal, and more than willing to hold a grudge. Nearly as smart as humans anyways, and Morgan was smarter than most people I'd known in two lives.
Granted, I seemed to remember weird stuff about crows in Westeros going down, but for now Morgan was just great.
I was sitting in my office, with a window open to let the air in. Shit was hot in Westeros. Morgan was in front of me, and on my desk was some paper. I'd been working for a while on planning things out, from what issues I might run into, my training, and my own future plans.
In a way, the gacha thing was as much a curse as a boon. I didn't want to factor its randomness into my plans, but I kind of had to as well. I had to plan for randomness. The fuck?
But if I did something of note, then I'd get rewarded. Nice. In that case, I needed the right circumstances. And (unfortunately) that circumstance was coming.
Robert's Rebellion hadn't kicked off. Soon, the whole of Westeros would be at war, battling against a mad king. For the nobles fighting, there would be land, gold, and reputations at stake.
For the lower-class folks fighting, only blood, tears, and horror would be their reward.
I, on the other hand, didn't have to fight. I could simply sit in my keep and wait for the war to finish, then find my own way after. That was what Petyr did. Or rather he used his connections to get rich with the customs post in Gulltown. Milking the war economy.
It wasn't what I wanted to do though. So I'd taken mark of what I had available to me.
The Keep I lived in was an old and crumbling thing, with enough room for me, my servants, and not much else. Petyr had often grumbled at being given so little. I, on the other hand, had finally had the concept of rent lifted off my shoulders and was positively giddy at the thought.
The land around the Keep was barren, with blowing winds coming off the sea, rocks everywhere, and little in the way of people. My subjects were just families living in rock buildings next to peat bog.
Other than that, nothing. No soldiers, no weapons, no armor. I was just a guy with a heavy as fuck cane and knowledge of martial arts in my brain and muscle memory, without a body capable of implementing them.
I sighed, rubbing my face. "It ain't much, Morgan. I know that I need to make some big changes. I need to get stronger physically, get some money, make a name for myself. And you know, not die."
I stood up and cracked my back, sighing a bit. Then I got down on the floor, doing knuckle push-ups as I thought things over. First things first. Let's ask people what they actually want.
"What I want, milord?" A man with some dirt on his face asked me, looking befuddled. I was stood outside his stone home. Inside, I could see a woman cooking over a fire fed by peat blocks. He scratched his forehead, getting some more dirt on his face in the process. "I don't know, milord. Same as everyone, I suppose. Food for my family."
"Done," I said. "I can't do anything for taxes, since that gets decided above my level, but I'll send some servants with some extra food to everyone."
He stared at me, gobsmacked. Honestly, that was an easy promise to make. There was enough food in the Keep for more than the people who lived there, so sharing it wasn't a big deal.
"In return, I want to ask you, do you think we can increase the amount of peat blocks we produce?" I raised a hand quickly when he got a very worried look on his face. "I don't want to work you and the others hard. I have a feeling that we may be able to sell some of it for a good price."
Peat, according to Petyr's memories, was a good way to produce long lasting fires without needing to hunt down wood in places that lacked it. It was plant matter that had turned into chunks of mud basically (Neither I or Petyr knew the science behind it) that when dried would create energy efficient blocks of burnable fuel.
Useful for an army on the march through wetlands or places without any firewood.
The man relaxed once he realized I wasn't about to work twelve families to death for little reward. "Ay, we can work a bit harder. Do we uh-"
"Yeah, you'll get a portion of whatever we make selling it." I said easily. "I'll make sure it's evenly split between the families, as long as no one makes the others do an unfair amount of work. Good?"
"Yes, very good ser!" The man held out a dirty hand, only to wince when he noticed the mud on his palm. Then he jumped in surprise when I clutched it and gave it a good shake.
As I turned and walked back towards the dirt road, thinking over how I could distribute the peat in a way that could get at least a small amount of cash flowing-
Click!
[Accolade for your house: Be an actually decent person to your smallfok.]
A Two notched Step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
[Accolade for your house: Moral business man]
A One notched step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
Wha… how big of assholes were nobles in Westeros!? That just interacting with them like actual people was enough for TWO rewards!?
When I groaned in annoyance, the servant following me, a man by the name of Umfred, gave me a confused look. "Milord?"
"Just contemplating the gods and their whims, Umfred." I stared out at the wide spread peat bog we were walking through. One family down, eleven to go.
Once that was done, I headed back to the Keep and entered my room, sitting on my bed. Mentally, I hit my first reward, hoping for something good. After a while, it popped up, followed by an ungodly clattering on the floor in front of me that had me jump and Morgan squawking in outrage.
"...Holy fucking shit." I spat out, shocked.
[Black Knight Set]
[Common Arsenal]
Dark Souls - A set of armor and weapons wielded by the Black Knights of Lordran. The armor is perfectly fitted to your body and will keep conforming to your body as long as your body shape does not change too drastically. The set contains a Greatsword, Battle Axe, Halberd, Sword, and Shield.
A full set of armor. A huge sword, battle axe, halberd, sword, and a shield. In any other world, it might not have been a huge deal. It was listed as a common item. But here, they were a HUGE deal.
I lifted the helmet, gaping at it. A full set of armor, and weapons, was expensive as fuck. So I was saving a lot having this armor. But it was heavy. Not as much as popular culture would lead one to believe.
"How the fuck am I going to explain this?" I wondered while idly hitting the next ticket.
A moment later, the helmet felt lighter. Internally, I read the new ticket.
[Caveman]
[Common Passive]
Unga Bunga. You are a caveman at heart, giving you enhanced physical strength and endurance. In addition, you are skilled at wielding blunt instruments and toughing it out in the wild.
I winced, my body straining. I stared at myself. My muscles were filling out. It felt wrong, and itchy, my skin stretching around a new layer of muscle. Thankfully it didn't last too long. Once it was done, my weedy Petyr body was now filled out. Less nerdy teen, more farmer boy teen.
I then realized that I, in the body of Petyr Baelish, a guy who prided himself on being refined, fancy, and above it all, had gained a trait called Caveman.
"Pffft-HAHAHAHA!" As I laughed, Morgan flew over to land on the Black Knight shield, laughing along with me.
For the next month, I made some moves. With the help of Petyr's memories I was able to reach out to some places that had a lack of real firewood to cook and keep themselves warm on cold nights, sending out the peat blocks for a small amount of extra coin.
I also worked my ass off. With the new armor and weapons, I had a good way to weight lift. Dark Souls weapons, as it turns out, are HUGE. The 'greatsword' was way longer than any sword Westeros was used to, and heavier as well. My new caveman strength helped, but I could use the flat of that giant weapon to do bench presses and other exercises.
The other weapons were similarly useful. I could do a huge variety of exercises to strengthen myself, and I did, using a combination of my modern memories, the knowledge of Chinese martial arts I downloaded, and Petyr's bare minimum of sword training to start working myself in earnest.
The only thing I was missing was a good sparring partner.
As for how I explained the new weapons and armor. I inherited when I got the Keep and only recently became interested in using them.
It was very disappointing how easily Umfred and the other servants accepted that. Petyr reallyhated exerting himself in any way.
For the next month, I worked. I read up as much as I could on Westeros' maps, borders, and the various relationships between the families that ruled the lands, I did long runs across the peat bogs wearing my armor to get used to the weight of it, I worked out every muscle I had, and I trained in Chinese martial arts until my pointer fingers bled.
After a full month of training, 30 days exactly, when I laid on my back exhausted from my most recent workout.
Click!
[Accolade for your house: Caped Baldy's regimen]
A One notched step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
"...I resent that description," I grumbled, sighing as I clicked on the ticket in my mind, sitting up and sighing. Fucking chaos gacha…
When it finished, I blinked. Then I reached out. In a single moment, a simple medieval warhammer appeared in my hand. Wooden handle with an iron head at the top, an iron pommel, and good construction all around.
I stared at the description of this new… well, it said arsenal, but it might as well have been an ability.
[Warhammer 40k]
|Trash Arsenal|
40,000 regular quality standard Iron Warhammers, you can take out one at a time from your system storage. What did you think it was?
"I… what the fuck am I going to do with 40,000 of these!?" I shouted, baffled. Fucking… gacha.
Well. At least I had more to sell than just peat blocks. Just had to explain where I got them from…
Turns out, in the medieval age, as long as you pay your taxes and aren't a raging asshole, a noble can get away with a lot. Along with the peat blocks, I started selling warhammers in batches of ten. Not a huge amount, just enough to get some money off of them, explaining them away as being made from bog iron.
Peat bogs were known to be rich in the stuff after all. And if my warhammers were a little too perfectly made, who would really question me?
Still, I needed to travel. I couldn't simply sit in the peat bogs getting swole and sending my shit out across Westeros, I needed to be seen making some effort at connections to explain how I got things from the gacha system. If I suddenly started getting entire armories of weapons I'd need someexplanation of how I got them.
So about two months into my training montage/study sessions life, swinging the threaded cane, swords, and warhammers around near constantly, I used some of my money to buy a horse and head out to Gulltown with Umfred.
"Milord?"
"Hm?" I turned to Umfred, chewing on a piece of jerky in my hand as we rode our horses side by side, a wagon getting pulled behind the old farm horse I was on. Morgan was on my shoulder, eating her own piece of jerky happily. "What's up, Umfred?"
He winced at my casualness but soldiered on. "I was wondering why you decided recently to… change. The other servants are worried as well. You've been doing odd things. And those items that-"
"I told you, Umfred. I have a deal with a trader from Bravvos. I can accept his warhammers and sell them on his behalf, but I can't ask any questions on where they came from. He was an odd man, but the warhammers are a good way to make money to support the Keep." I then tapped on my armored chest. "As for this, it was an inheritance."
"I… yes, of course." Still nervous, he swallowed. "And your training?"
"Brandon Stark."
"Ser?"
"I was beaten like a bad dog by a man with more muscle, armor, and pride. In the moment where I wanted something most, the weapons I depended on my entire life, my intelligence and charisma, failed." I shrugged. "He beat some sense into me. And also, some teeth out of me."
"Ha!" Umfred barked out a surprised laugh, then looked horrified. "Ser, I am so so-"
"Don't worry about it!" I clasped his shoulder, chuckling. "I made a joke, you laughed. Nothing to worry about."
Umfred looked so relieved that he seemed to accept the hailstorm of lies I said. Thank god.
I looked at the wagon behind me, stuffed with peat briquettes on one side and a heap of warhammers on the other. I'd also brought the Black Knight battle axe along to sell as well. Just as I contemplated them-
Click!
[Accolade for your house: Truth is Perspective]
A one notched step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
A reward… for lying? That felt wrong, somehow. Although I guess the system would also reward me for killing at some point, so morals weren't the real issue here. I pushed the ticket before realizing what a mistake that might be. If I got something huge, like a car or an elephant, I would have an immensely hard time explaining that to Umfred.
Thankfully, that wasn't what happened.
[King of Disco]
[Common Passive]
You are the best dancer around, no one can beat you at the art of dance, this also has the effect of increasing your body control, finesse, balance, sense of rhythm and nimbleness.
And just like that… balance. I had been riding my horse competently before, depending on Petyr's training. But now, I found myself smoothly moving with my horse, shifting my hips and legs as it trotted beneath me.
Once again, I marveled at how good a low rarity roll was for me. King of Disco, if my mental reading of it was correct, didn't just give me dance moves, but also gave me a few things that my workouts had been developed to give me anyways. Every fighter knew the value of those things. Hell, football players took ballet.
High value for something considered low level.
Which, you know. I was grateful for the boost to my ability to both dance and fight. But it also reminded me why I disliked the system I had been tied to. It was so… chaotic. I had to flip my plans on the whim of the strange godlike gacha game I'd been tied to. And I was worried that I would eventually land on something I couldn't explain away. Or worse, get some kind of curse, or a 'familiar' that would rather kill me than help me.
We rode on. Westeros was huge,and the distance between Baelish Keep and Gulltown by land fit that. Hopefully I would be able to one day solve that problem, or just leave the Keep to someone else while I made a home somewhere more reasonable. For now, Umfred and I traveled.
For the next few days, we took refuge in an inn one night, and slept outside the rest. And while we did, I got to know Umfred a bit.
"-been in the peat bogs most of my life," he said as I cooked him a side of jerky over a campfire late at night. "I remember the day when I first met your father. He was a good man. Hired me on and told me to care for your home as though it were my own."
"I don't remember a lot about him," I admitted. "How about you? Any family?"
Umfred shook his head, smiling just a bit. "Not yet. I've got time. Maybe I'll find a good woman, put some babes into her. Settle down in the peat bog or continue to serve you."
"You sure you don't want to run off to somewhere more lucrative?" I teased.
Umfred laughed, a lot more relaxed than he used to be around me. "I'm not so sure about that milord. You have been making good money of late, and you have increased my wages well."
Well, yeah. I didn't give a shit about holding onto money for the sake of money.
"Well, follow me and I'll do everything I can to keep you and yours safe," I said solemnly. "After all. Winter is Coming. Gotta prepare for that."
He gave me an odd look. "Ser, you have said that a lot recently?"
"I got my head beaten in by a Stark. It tends to lock in some of their trademark issues." I said it with a smile."Also winter just so happens to be really bloody expensive so that is a factor too."
He laughed, loud and happily. I smiled, looking up briefly. In my head, we made for a strange image. An older man in clean but rough clothes, a younger one in the armor of some dark knight cooking food over a campfire, chuckling together as our horses grazed nearby. Morgan was cleaning her feathers on my shoulder, content and full, her shining black feathers a comforting sight.
For just a moment, I forgot about Winter, chaotic gachas, and asshole nobles, and just enjoyed the fresh air and filling food.
The day after that, we reached Gulltown.
Gulltown was a port city, and had all the benefits of such. The air there was less foreboding than by my keep, and there were more people than I had seen in months, buzzing back and forth between buildings, hawking wares, rushing to boats, carrying heavy packages.
Some, however, stopped and stared as I passed. I wasn't wearing my helmet, but the Black Knight set stood out even then. My face had filled and thinned as I gained muscle, and I like to think I looked good in the dark armor, engraved with arcane looking patterns. Luckily I told Morgan to go out and have fun, or I would have made an even more odd sight.
We stopped at a stable after a while. I handed Umfred a small pouch. "Go ahead and get yourself a drink. I'll take care of selling this stuff."
Umfred gave me a happy grin. "Thank you, milord."
"Go get into some trouble."
He nodded happily and trotted off. I waved him off and continued on my way, reaching the guy who I had been selling my warhammers to previously, a weapons merchant named Gregor. I stopped before the small shop he had and entered. The man himself stepped out from the back and gave me a look, blinking.
"Hello, ser. How may I help ye?" He was a short man, with ruddy brown hair thinning on the top, large arms, and a well trimmed goatee. Behind him, I could see my warhammers hanging on the wall neatly, five of them in between a spear and a dagger.
"Hello," I bowed just a bit. "Peter Baelish," I said, internally spelling the name in the way I was more familiar with. "I'm the one who has been sending you warhammers to sell."
He gave me an odd look. "Truly?"
I pointed outside at the carriage. "See for yourself."
He walked over and his eyes widened at the sight of a carriage full of weapons on one side, and peat blocks on the other. "Ay… ay, that be the hammers."
Pulling back, he looked me up and down, tracing my armor. "Apologies, milord, I didn't know-"
"Apologies?" I asked curiously.
Gregor gave me a shrewd look. "I didn't believe the traders when they said they got their hammers from ye. Thought they might have stolen them or something. They said you got them from Braavos?"
"From a mad man," I said cheerily. "He's been selling them to me for some time. Dozens of them, and it seems he isn't through even a quarter of them."
"A mad man?" Gregor glanced back at the hammers, then at me. "Good quality for a mad man."
"I don't ask too many questions," I shrugged, my armor clinking. "But I have the hammers, and I am willing to sell them. But you haven't been giving me a fair price."
Gregor soured. "Well I didn't know if they were stolen or not."
"They are not," I said firmly. "Ask anyone. The only one who has access to these hammers is me. And I will gladly give them to you for a fair price."
I settled across from Gregor, smiling charmingly. For a moment, just one, I let go of Peter, the me who worked out, punched logs, and prepared for Winter. And in his place, Petyr, one of the most conniving manipulative bastards in history, stepped in.
"Let's talk, shall we?"
Gregor, as it turned out, was happy to deal when he realized that, no, I wasn't asking for something unreasonable. I was providing him a whole bevy of identical weaponry for a good price, quickly, at numbers no one else could match. Easy money for him.
I ended up keeping the Black Knight weapons. Gregor was very nervous about not being to sell them. Truthfully, that was fine. I could keep them at home under lock and key, gift them to people more deserving of them or use them myself if I felt like going all anime.
I left with a more consistent trade deal and a small pouch of coins.
The same happened with the peat blocks. Thankfully, with those, I had less of a conversation on how to sell them. Just spoke to the guys who already sold them and gave them a good price. Easy.
With my deals made, I headed towards the inn Umfred and I had set up as a meeting place. Tomorrow I'd look into picking up some more useful things, maybe see what the prices were on buying a boat.
As I approached the inn thinking on my plans for the next day, the sound of shouting drew my attention. I turned my horse and rode towards it. More shouting. Then a familiar man pleading for his life. When I turned into an alley, my blood ran cold.
Umfred, held at knife point by a fat asshole, two other desperate looking types behind the fat guy with big clubs in their hands. Umfred was nearly crying as he was held against a wall.
"Hey!" I said before I could think. I swung off of my horse and strode forward, removing the threaded cane from its makeshift holster on my saddle. The four men turned to look at me, Umfred looking caught between fear and relief. I felt my heartbeat filling my ears as I approached. "Let him go!"
"A knight?" One man said, aghast.
"Take care of him!" The fat guy shouted in a panic.
I froze for just a second. Despite my training, both Petyr and I hadn't been in too many real fights. So when one of the guys rushed me with a club raised high, I needed just a moment. Thankfully, it was enough time for me to get my bearings before the first guy reached me.
He swung down with his club. And I pirouetted out of the way.
King of Disco, baby.
Spinning out of the way of his wild swing, I brought my gauntlet fist out. Guided by caveman strength, dancing balance, and Lingshu Chin Na training, my fist smashed into the bridge of his nose.
Smack!
The sick sound of metal on flesh and bone filled the air, blood flying out in an arc as the thug flipped in the air, landing in the dirt and going still immediately.
"Seven abo-" Umfred was cut off by the second guy rushing me, his club raised more warily.
More prepared this time, I raised the threaded cane in my hand and approached him. He swung at me, and I parried the attack with the heavy metal cane, then struck back with a small poke to his side, just under his armpit, where a muscle connected to the ones that controlled the inner side of the biceps.
"Gah!" The thug winced severely, dropping his club as his own muscles failed him. He desperately swung a fist at me. I slapped it down with my right hand, then with that same hand's index and middle finger smashed the point of his throat dedicated to sending blood to the brain, just hard enough to briefly close it, then allow it to open again before it could do any real damage.
He fell over instantly, knocked out.
The fat man, last standing, desperately tried to back away. "Do-"
Umfred held a foot out behind the guy, tripping him to the floor. I grinned at Umfred, who only nodded at me, rubbing away some sweat from his eyes, then strode towards the fat man.
"Ser-" the fat guy was about to say, before he scrambled to his feet and swung his knife at me.
The blade, sharp as it was, bent nearly in half when I swung the threaded cane to intercept it, sending it flying, the fat man screaming in pain before a single front kick to his solar plexus knocked him back into a wall and out for the count.
I stopped, breathing heavily, looking around. "You okay?"
"Y-Yes, ser," Umfred swallowed nervously, rubbing at his neck where the knife had cut him a bit. "They followed me. Saw I had gold when I grabbed a few pints."
That explained it. I swung my threaded cane around. "Come on. We need to lea-
Click!
Click!
Click!
[Accolade for your house: First Kill]
A One notched step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
[Accolade for your house: Outnumbered but not outclassed]
A Two notched step of Many faces appears before you. The step is yours to take…
[Accolade for your house: A Noble protects]
A One notched step of Companionship appears before you. The step is yours to take…
…I looked at the first guy I'd hit. My fist had slammed into the bridge of his nose with all of my strength. A full hit, from a kid with literal caveman strength, wearing a gauntleted fist. People could die from a regular man hitting them hard enough…
Swallowing, I focused on Umfred, and led him past the corpse of the man I'd killed, trying not to vomit.
In the inn, in my own room, I stared at the wall. I'd taken my armor off, leaving me in a simple shirt and trousers, the Black Knight helm resting on the floor next to the threaded cane. A flutter of wings took my attention. Morgan landed on the window sill, hopping over to me on the bed next to the window.
"Hey," I rubbed her head, looking down at my friendly crow. She rubbed my hand, letting out a small 'caw' of noise as she did so. I smiled, just a bit.
I'd killed someone. Not purposefully, but… it sucked to think about either way.
In a bid to distract myself, I hit one of the tickets. Part of me was sickened that killing a man had gotten me a low level ticket. Life really wasn't worth shit in Westeros.
When I saw what I got from the roll, I felt slightly better.
[Belmont Bloodline]
[Common Passive]
[Castlevania]
You are a descendant of the legendary vampire killers, the Belmont clan.
You have increased aptitude with holy weapons and artifacts, and have an easier time facing and combating the undead and unholy, especially vampires.
You are naturally talented with using whips and can jump better as well.
I lifted up the threaded cane and turned it into its form. This time, when I experimentally swung it, I felt less like I was about to lose a piece of my body from one of the pointed sections. Instead it swung through the air with a satisfying 'swish' sound before snapping back to me in a single twist of my wrist.
Belmont bloodline. Did the White Walkers count enough as undead for the bloodline to help? And what did it mean, 'jump better'? Like, how much higher? Further? Was I able to jump as far as Trevor in the animated series could?
Still. Useful. Very useful. I hit the next ticket.
"...Oh what the fuck?" I sighed.
[Fireball]
[Common Ability]
[Dungeons and Dragons]
I didn't ask how big the room was, I said, I CAST FIREBALL!
Launch a bolt of fire from your fingertip up to 400ft with a 20 foot radius spherical explosion on impact.
Hits with maximum damage at the center, 50% at the very edges. Ignites flammable objects.
"Fi-" I stopped, wincing. Yeah, maybe don't say the word for the spell. Still. What the fuck. Why was this common!? What was a really good roll like, would I summon Kratos or learn Power Word: Scrunch?
Damn, those guys who worshipped fire would have thoughts on my new ability. Although, I felt like that ability had limits. Like it was tied to a very weak power within me? I didn't know how to explain it, but that fit best.
Last resort then, unless I could find some way to increase that power.
I hit the last one. It took… a while? Like, it took longer than any other time I'd hit the strange mental button for the tickets. After a bit, it stopped.
There was a burst of light in front of me, somehow both blinding and yet not at the same time. I felt a pull from something in the air, then a pop. And a woman stepped out of existence.
"Well, hello there, suga," she lifted up an uncomfortably long whip and winked at me jauntily. "Seems I'm your latest problem."
Hot as fuck. That was my first thought on seeing the pink haired woman before me. She was wearing a simple white shirt that left the entire of her abs free and displayed her breasts well, verysmall shorts that displayed one hell of a butt and nice thighs, a pair of black heels that accentuated her calves, and a cute police hat on her head.
She also had a whip wrapped around her waist, a pair of handcuffs in her back pocket, and a riding crop in her hand that she was flexing between her fingers as she looked around curiously.
I stared at the description in my mind as Morgan flew over to land on her arm, the woman giving Morgan a cooing noise as she scratched her head.
[Poison]
[Common Familiar]
[Street Fighter]
A badass, sadistic femme fatale that used to run with the Mad Gear Gang. She's a remarkably sturdy fighter and can use a mix of kicks, grapples, and pro wrestling moves. She's also really good with a whip and is, unrelated to anything else, transgender.
"...How are you considered 'Common'!?" I asked, honestly aghast. "Wait, wrong question. What the fuck!?"
She smirked, way too confident for a woman who had been summoned from non-existence.