“Dad, what do these potions do?” Wolf asked as soon as the caravan started rolling, apparently forgetting his previous grumpiness.
“Energy Expanding potions should be one of those potions that could be used to increase a person’s capacity for Internal Energy. If you remember, I've already talked about them.” The big man calmly explained.
Archibald was surprised that his boy had waited this long to ask the question. Maybe that was a sign that he was growing up? Either that or he was too busy daydreaming…
“That’s great!” Wolf exclaimed. “It’s much better for you to drink this! Those potions we purchased back at the Adventurers’ Guild only refill the Internal Energy you spend.” Unexpectedly, the first thing out of the boy’s mouth was an attempt to make his father drink one so that he could increase his Internal Energy capacity.
“Son, these potions would be wasted on me.” Archibald explained. “I’ve told you about this already. Your father’s Internal Energy reservoir is like a pot riddled with holes. Even if I were to make the pot as big as a barrel it will still be leaky and the water will run out. For me those potions of Least Energy Recovery are the best thing to use. They are relatively cheap. They generate enough Internal Energy for me to convert into Soul Force, and there is very little waste.
“If we had bought potions with higher potency, I would’ve been wasting some of their effect every time I drank one.” Having explained this, Archibald switched back to the potions at hand.
“For you, however, these potions should be useful. Their grade isn’t too low, and maybe you could use them to increase your Sword-Sage Order. Once the caravan stops for the evening you should drink one. Maybe you could even take it now, but it would be a shame if someone interrupted you and made you waste the effect.”
“And why did we refuse to take more of these potions?” Wolf still grumbled inwardly because his father downplayed the worth of his services.
“I’ve already told you, they’d be useless to you,” Archibald began patiently. “Potions that cause permanent change, such as these ones, give diminishing returns after every use. The effect is usually halved every time you take one. In simple terms no matter how many you drink, you can’t end up with more than double the effect you would get from drinking a single one.
“Taking three is an accepted norm, while consuming any more is considered wasteful. Besides, you shouldn’t accept such expensive gifts for nothing. The potions we received are more or less the pay we’d get for guarding the caravan from here to Silver City.”
“But, if three is the norm, why didn’t you ask for three?” Wolf asked. He still didn’t understand that part.
“You don’t haggle with people giving you gifts,” Archibald spoke slowly, with forced patience. “It’s bad manners. Besides, that would make us owe them something. You don’t want to owe anything to people. It usually comes back to bite you in the butt.” he said and tapped Wolf’s nose.
***
That evening, when the caravan stopped for the night, a guard came over to invite Wolf and Archibald for dinner. Archibald ate happily, while Wolf… ate.
Still, ever since he had started preparing all of their meals, the boy did find a certain charm in food that he didn’t have to cook himself.
It would’ve been better if the food was tasty, but a decent meal he didn’t have to make personally was passable.
“Thank you for the dinner gentlemen. As a token of my appreciation I’ll prepare dinner tomorrow evening. Is that all right with you?” Archibald made an offer and Wolf immediately perked up and nodded in agreement.
His father’s cooking was much better than anything he could make. However…
“Sir, thank you kindly, but we could never...” Red blurted out. Having a grandmaster Sword-Sage prepare food for him and his guards was too surreal.
Aren’t Sword-Sages and Mages supposed to be haughty existences that look down on common folk? What’s up with him offering to cook dinner? The captain of the caravan guards wondered.
“I really don’t mind,” Archibald said with an honest expression, while Wolf nodded with extra enthusiasm. It had been ages since his father cooked for them!
“Dad is the best cook you’ve ever seen!” the boy exclaimed, nearly causing his father to choke.
There were probably plenty of cooks better than he was. At least the way he was at the moment.
When he was at his peak then sure. Finding someone with sharper senses than a Third Order True-Namer was practically impossible. After smelling a single whiff of whatever he was cooking Archibald immediately knew what his cooking tasted like, and more importantly, how to improve it. Nowadays, he was just making do by relying on decades of experience, since those keen senses were long gone.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Son. But I believe my meal would be well received,” Archibald spoke humbly, hoping nobody would laugh at his boy for making outlandish claims.
These were people that’d visited more than one ducal capital, meaning they’d probably tasted their fair share of fine dishes. Unlike Wolf, who had seen a total of three shabby settlements in his life.
“Um…” Eventually, Wolf enthusiastically talked Red into accepting Archibald’s offer, much to the latter’s embarrassment.
The next day passed in a flash, and soon enough it was dinner time again.
Archibald was given salted beef, vegetables, cooking utensils and a large cauldron filled with water. The first thing Archibald did was remove most of the water and store it in his Ring of Holding. Then he poured some oil into the cauldron, and placed it on the cooking fire. Once it started sizzling and popping he added meat, which he had cut into much smaller pieces while waiting for the giant pot to heat up.
Once the food was done, Archibald wasn’t exactly satisfied with the meal. Mostly because of the time constraints.
If he could, he would've let the beef simmer for two more hours. That way it would've become much more tender, but people couldn’t wait until midnight just to get some stew.
Even though everyone got a bowl of stew only Archibald, Wolf and the younger of two surviving adventurers started eating.
After tasting the first spoon the sixteen-year-old youth paused.
“It’s better than Nana’s cooking!” The youth exclaimed, while stuffing food into his mouth even faster.
The second adventurer gave the bowl a dubious look, filled with even more skepticism than the guards. He obviously had no intention of being used as a guinea pig.
Finally Red hardened his resolve, and took a spoonful of stew.
“Mmmm, this is really good! Better than the stuff you make Jod!” Archibald and Wolf were unaware of it, but this was a code among the caravan guards. It meant that food was not poisoned.
And it really was better than what Jod, the wagon driver in charge of cooking, usually made.
Hearing that the food was clean the guards dug in, and quite a few of them complimented Archibald.
“It’s really good!”
“I didn’t know Sir Malcom was a famous chef!”
A number of them however ate silently, but rather quickly.
“Seconds!” three of the silent ones exclaimed at the same time, waving their bowls.
Archibald chuckled as Jod the cook filled their bowls, grumbling all the while. Asking for seconds praised a cook's skills louder than any words could. As for Jod’s cooking, it had been a long time since anyone asked for seconds. Frankly, everyone was sick and tired of the same old stew every single night for months.
After the first few men, more and more of them asked for a second helping, causing Jod’s face to turn even uglier.
He really wasn’t that bad of a cook, at least as far as his fellows were concerned. It’s just that he always prepared his favorite stew for dinner.
Once everyone was stuffed the older of two adventurers spoke, “You know, I’m not that bad of a cook myself. How about I prepare dinner tomorrow evening?”
A number of guards cheered for the idea. Apparently, they liked Archibald’s cooking quite a bit! If this fellow dared to say he’s a good cook after having such a nice meal, he should at least be decent.
Archibald shrugged, frequently cooking for a large number of people was a pain in the neck.
Red, as the captain of the caravan guards, gave it some thought. After several moments of silence he gave a slight nod. “If you want to be on food duty tomorrow evening, that's fine by me. Jod, you’ll go gather firewood in his place.”
Once the giant pot was empty the dinner ended. Several guards went to wash the dishes in a nearby stream, while those that didn’t draw the lot for the first watch went to sleep.
Once Archibald and Wolf were in their wagon the big man whispered.
“Son, prepare a Subtle Detect Poison for tomorrow’s dinner.”
“I’ve prepared one every day ever since we went to that Honest Man’s shitty tavern or whatever it was called,” Wolf said with a smug smile.
Years ago Archibald told him to have one prepared whenever they were eating out, or preparing food with purchased ingredients. Just in case…
After the short chat father and son went to rest.
Another day on the road passed without much happening, and soon enough it was time for another dinner.
Just like yesterday with Archibald, nobody really paid much attention to the adventurer in charge of cooking. Everyone had their own thing and went through their own routine.
After a while, dinner was served. The caravan guards were just as reserved as they were yesterday evening. The only one willing to viciously attack the stew was the young adventurer.
The youth dug in just as recklessly as he did last night.
“Gah! Too salty!” the youth exclaimed, coughing.
As soon as the young man made the first choking sound, half the caravan’s personnel threw their bowls to the side, acting as if they were holding vipers. When they heard the youth’s complaint they wanted to throttle him. As for the naive youth, he kept stuffing his face, albeit with a disgruntled expression. Apparently, he was one of those people that grew up in a home where you had to eat whatever you were served, as long as it was edible.
Wolf paid little mind to the man’s clowning. As soon as he’d gotten his serving, he focused on casting Subtle Detect Poison.
Slowly the world before him changed ever so slightly. The steam rising from his bowl turned into a faint green miasma. He turned and checked his father’s serving, but it too had a nauseating green steam rising from it.
Wolf checked around the camp, and he saw that everyone’s food was poisoned. The thickest column of green smoke was rising from the cauldron. After seeing all of this, Wolf turned towards his father, and nodded his head with a cold expression. If it wasn’t for the agreement they had, he would’ve already killed the cook.
“Young man, may I ask something? Why do you wish to poison everyone here?” Archibald nonchalantly asked the adventurer, while giving Red and his men a friendly warning. Alerting the guards was the right thing to do, even if Archibald didn’t put into consideration their respectful attitude, and the gift they had given Wolf.
Everyone froze in place, and shot the adventurer a ruthless look. Well, everyone except the youngest adventurer that was stuffing his face with the poisoned dinner. The youth stopped eating and stared dumbly for a couple of moments as he processed the question. Then he dropped his spoon and bowl while spitting the food. Finally he shoved a finger into his mouth.
Becoming the center of attention, the other adventurer started sweating and stammering, “I-I-I don’t know what you mean. Don’t go around accusing people randomly!”
“I’m not making random accusations. You spiked the dinner you’ve prepared tonight. I don’t know what kind of poison you used though, since I’m not proficient in that field.” Archibald calmly repeated his accusation.
The man hesitated for a moment. Anyone looking at him could see that panic was clearly written on his face. Once your victim suspects their food is poisoned, it’s a simple matter to confirm the existence of all, save for the most advanced and expensive poisons. Being aware of that, the adventurer did the only thing he could. He jumped and started running.
“Catch him!” Red shouted as soon as the adventurer moved.
However, his men didn’t get the chance to react before Wolf dashed after the would-be poisoner. The boy’s step was light as he ran. When he kicked off the ground his leap appeared effortless. Despite the graceful, gentle appearance Wolf’s blow was anything but light.
*Crack!*
The eerie sound of bones cracking was heard as Wolf’s foot viciously slammed into the fleeing man’s back. The adventurer let out a muffled scream, his face already buried in the grass.
Seeing this, Red cringed. It was the same move Wolf had used when they sparred. But this time the boy was considerably more forceful. Not to mention that this wasn’t a benign hit to the solar plexus, but a malign blow, aimed to cripple the spine and ruin a man.
Wolf stood on the whimpering man’s back. He had one foot on the back of the bandit’s head, keeping it buried in the grass.
“Don’t even think about moving,” the boy growled, shocking everyone present.
It was quite unnerving. The voice without a doubt belonged to a child, yet the way in which the words were spoken and the whole air he had about him made Wolf seem like the grim reaper.
“Did you just try to poison my father right in front of me?” he hissed. “Are you insane!? Why would you do that!?”
Wolf didn’t wait for a reply. He raised his foot from the man’s head, and slammed it into the adventurer’s shoulder blade.
*Crack*
The man screamed once more, but the wail was once again muffled by the grass stuffed in his mouth.
“Pleafe fpare me!” The adventurer mumbled miserably while spitting out grass and dirt.
“Sir Wolf! Please, let us question him first,” Red was so shocked that he addressed Wolf with an honorific.
Wolf coldly glared at the captain of Johns and Josh merchant group. Red felt as if he was being stared at by a Monster Beast, and not by an underdeveloped child. The scruffy man started sweating, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva. Seeing this scene Archibald cleared his throat. That was enough to get Wolf back at his father’s side.
“Are all people this stupid?” Wolf muttered, his mood grim. If his father hadn’t reacted just now, he would have torn the poisoner to shreds. If Wolf had one reverse scale it was his father’s safety.
“Son, now’s not the time,” Archibald whispered, and started moving away from the guards. It was their job to interrogate the mole.
“Friends, it seems that our dinner was spoiled. The two of us will bid you goodnight,” he said with feigned cheerfulness, leading Wolf away from the crowd.
Archibald’s lessons:
When planning which spells to prepare for the next day you should keep something in mind. Whether or not you will be interacting with people, whether or not you will be killing or helping them… Once you have a clear direction on what you want to do it’s easy to filter out the spells you don’t need.
“Dad, what do these potions do?” Wolf asked as soon as the caravan started rolling, apparently forgetting his previous grumpiness.
“Energy Expanding potions should be one of those potions that could be used to increase a person’s capacity for Internal Energy. If you remember, I've already talked about them.” The big man calmly explained.
Archibald was surprised that his boy had waited this long to ask the question. Maybe that was a sign that he was growing up? Either that or he was too busy daydreaming…
“That’s great!” Wolf exclaimed. “It’s much better for you to drink this! Those potions we purchased back at the Adventurers’ Guild only refill the Internal Energy you spend.” Unexpectedly, the first thing out of the boy’s mouth was an attempt to make his father drink one so that he could increase his Internal Energy capacity.
“Son, these potions would be wasted on me.” Archibald explained. “I’ve told you about this already. Your father’s Internal Energy reservoir is like a pot riddled with holes. Even if I were to make the pot as big as a barrel it will still be leaky and the water will run out. For me those potions of Least Energy Recovery are the best thing to use. They are relatively cheap. They generate enough Internal Energy for me to convert into Soul Force, and there is very little waste.
“If we had bought potions with higher potency, I would’ve been wasting some of their effect every time I drank one.” Having explained this, Archibald switched back to the potions at hand.
“For you, however, these potions should be useful. Their grade isn’t too low, and maybe you could use them to increase your Sword-Sage Order. Once the caravan stops for the evening you should drink one. Maybe you could even take it now, but it would be a shame if someone interrupted you and made you waste the effect.”
“And why did we refuse to take more of these potions?” Wolf still grumbled inwardly because his father downplayed the worth of his services.
“I’ve already told you, they’d be useless to you,” Archibald began patiently. “Potions that cause permanent change, such as these ones, give diminishing returns after every use. The effect is usually halved every time you take one. In simple terms no matter how many you drink, you can’t end up with more than double the effect you would get from drinking a single one.
“Taking three is an accepted norm, while consuming any more is considered wasteful. Besides, you shouldn’t accept such expensive gifts for nothing. The potions we received are more or less the pay we’d get for guarding the caravan from here to Silver City.”
“But, if three is the norm, why didn’t you ask for three?” Wolf asked. He still didn’t understand that part.
“You don’t haggle with people giving you gifts,” Archibald spoke slowly, with forced patience. “It’s bad manners. Besides, that would make us owe them something. You don’t want to owe anything to people. It usually comes back to bite you in the butt.” he said and tapped Wolf’s nose.
***
That evening, when the caravan stopped for the night, a guard came over to invite Wolf and Archibald for dinner. Archibald ate happily, while Wolf… ate.
Still, ever since he had started preparing all of their meals, the boy did find a certain charm in food that he didn’t have to cook himself.
It would’ve been better if the food was tasty, but a decent meal he didn’t have to make personally was passable.
“Thank you for the dinner gentlemen. As a token of my appreciation I’ll prepare dinner tomorrow evening. Is that all right with you?” Archibald made an offer and Wolf immediately perked up and nodded in agreement.
His father’s cooking was much better than anything he could make. However…
“Sir, thank you kindly, but we could never...” Red blurted out. Having a grandmaster Sword-Sage prepare food for him and his guards was too surreal.
Aren’t Sword-Sages and Mages supposed to be haughty existences that look down on common folk? What’s up with him offering to cook dinner? The captain of the caravan guards wondered.
“I really don’t mind,” Archibald said with an honest expression, while Wolf nodded with extra enthusiasm. It had been ages since his father cooked for them!
“Dad is the best cook you’ve ever seen!” the boy exclaimed, nearly causing his father to choke.
There were probably plenty of cooks better than he was. At least the way he was at the moment.
When he was at his peak then sure. Finding someone with sharper senses than a Third Order True-Namer was practically impossible. After smelling a single whiff of whatever he was cooking Archibald immediately knew what his cooking tasted like, and more importantly, how to improve it. Nowadays, he was just making do by relying on decades of experience, since those keen senses were long gone.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Son. But I believe my meal would be well received,” Archibald spoke humbly, hoping nobody would laugh at his boy for making outlandish claims.
These were people that’d visited more than one ducal capital, meaning they’d probably tasted their fair share of fine dishes. Unlike Wolf, who had seen a total of three shabby settlements in his life.
“Um…” Eventually, Wolf enthusiastically talked Red into accepting Archibald’s offer, much to the latter’s embarrassment.
The next day passed in a flash, and soon enough it was dinner time again.
Archibald was given salted beef, vegetables, cooking utensils and a large cauldron filled with water. The first thing Archibald did was remove most of the water and store it in his Ring of Holding. Then he poured some oil into the cauldron, and placed it on the cooking fire. Once it started sizzling and popping he added meat, which he had cut into much smaller pieces while waiting for the giant pot to heat up.
Once the food was done, Archibald wasn’t exactly satisfied with the meal. Mostly because of the time constraints.
If he could, he would've let the beef simmer for two more hours. That way it would've become much more tender, but people couldn’t wait until midnight just to get some stew.
Even though everyone got a bowl of stew only Archibald, Wolf and the younger of two surviving adventurers started eating.
After tasting the first spoon the sixteen-year-old youth paused.
“It’s better than Nana’s cooking!” The youth exclaimed, while stuffing food into his mouth even faster.
The second adventurer gave the bowl a dubious look, filled with even more skepticism than the guards. He obviously had no intention of being used as a guinea pig.
Finally Red hardened his resolve, and took a spoonful of stew.
“Mmmm, this is really good! Better than the stuff you make Jod!” Archibald and Wolf were unaware of it, but this was a code among the caravan guards. It meant that food was not poisoned.
And it really was better than what Jod, the wagon driver in charge of cooking, usually made.
Hearing that the food was clean the guards dug in, and quite a few of them complimented Archibald.
“It’s really good!”
“I didn’t know Sir Malcom was a famous chef!”
A number of them however ate silently, but rather quickly.
“Seconds!” three of the silent ones exclaimed at the same time, waving their bowls.
Archibald chuckled as Jod the cook filled their bowls, grumbling all the while. Asking for seconds praised a cook's skills louder than any words could. As for Jod’s cooking, it had been a long time since anyone asked for seconds. Frankly, everyone was sick and tired of the same old stew every single night for months.
After the first few men, more and more of them asked for a second helping, causing Jod’s face to turn even uglier.
He really wasn’t that bad of a cook, at least as far as his fellows were concerned. It’s just that he always prepared his favorite stew for dinner.
Once everyone was stuffed the older of two adventurers spoke, “You know, I’m not that bad of a cook myself. How about I prepare dinner tomorrow evening?”
A number of guards cheered for the idea. Apparently, they liked Archibald’s cooking quite a bit! If this fellow dared to say he’s a good cook after having such a nice meal, he should at least be decent.
Archibald shrugged, frequently cooking for a large number of people was a pain in the neck.
Red, as the captain of the caravan guards, gave it some thought. After several moments of silence he gave a slight nod. “If you want to be on food duty tomorrow evening, that's fine by me. Jod, you’ll go gather firewood in his place.”
Once the giant pot was empty the dinner ended. Several guards went to wash the dishes in a nearby stream, while those that didn’t draw the lot for the first watch went to sleep.
Once Archibald and Wolf were in their wagon the big man whispered.
“Son, prepare a Subtle Detect Poison for tomorrow’s dinner.”
“I’ve prepared one every day ever since we went to that Honest Man’s shitty tavern or whatever it was called,” Wolf said with a smug smile.
Years ago Archibald told him to have one prepared whenever they were eating out, or preparing food with purchased ingredients. Just in case…
After the short chat father and son went to rest.
Another day on the road passed without much happening, and soon enough it was time for another dinner.
Just like yesterday with Archibald, nobody really paid much attention to the adventurer in charge of cooking. Everyone had their own thing and went through their own routine.
After a while, dinner was served. The caravan guards were just as reserved as they were yesterday evening. The only one willing to viciously attack the stew was the young adventurer.
The youth dug in just as recklessly as he did last night.
“Gah! Too salty!” the youth exclaimed, coughing.
As soon as the young man made the first choking sound, half the caravan’s personnel threw their bowls to the side, acting as if they were holding vipers. When they heard the youth’s complaint they wanted to throttle him. As for the naive youth, he kept stuffing his face, albeit with a disgruntled expression. Apparently, he was one of those people that grew up in a home where you had to eat whatever you were served, as long as it was edible.
Wolf paid little mind to the man’s clowning. As soon as he’d gotten his serving, he focused on casting Subtle Detect Poison.
Slowly the world before him changed ever so slightly. The steam rising from his bowl turned into a faint green miasma. He turned and checked his father’s serving, but it too had a nauseating green steam rising from it.
Wolf checked around the camp, and he saw that everyone’s food was poisoned. The thickest column of green smoke was rising from the cauldron. After seeing all of this, Wolf turned towards his father, and nodded his head with a cold expression. If it wasn’t for the agreement they had, he would’ve already killed the cook.
“Young man, may I ask something? Why do you wish to poison everyone here?” Archibald nonchalantly asked the adventurer, while giving Red and his men a friendly warning. Alerting the guards was the right thing to do, even if Archibald didn’t put into consideration their respectful attitude, and the gift they had given Wolf.
Everyone froze in place, and shot the adventurer a ruthless look. Well, everyone except the youngest adventurer that was stuffing his face with the poisoned dinner. The youth stopped eating and stared dumbly for a couple of moments as he processed the question. Then he dropped his spoon and bowl while spitting the food. Finally he shoved a finger into his mouth.
Becoming the center of attention, the other adventurer started sweating and stammering, “I-I-I don’t know what you mean. Don’t go around accusing people randomly!”
“I’m not making random accusations. You spiked the dinner you’ve prepared tonight. I don’t know what kind of poison you used though, since I’m not proficient in that field.” Archibald calmly repeated his accusation.
The man hesitated for a moment. Anyone looking at him could see that panic was clearly written on his face. Once your victim suspects their food is poisoned, it’s a simple matter to confirm the existence of all, save for the most advanced and expensive poisons. Being aware of that, the adventurer did the only thing he could. He jumped and started running.
“Catch him!” Red shouted as soon as the adventurer moved.
However, his men didn’t get the chance to react before Wolf dashed after the would-be poisoner. The boy’s step was light as he ran. When he kicked off the ground his leap appeared effortless. Despite the graceful, gentle appearance Wolf’s blow was anything but light.
*Crack!*
The eerie sound of bones cracking was heard as Wolf’s foot viciously slammed into the fleeing man’s back. The adventurer let out a muffled scream, his face already buried in the grass.
Seeing this, Red cringed. It was the same move Wolf had used when they sparred. But this time the boy was considerably more forceful. Not to mention that this wasn’t a benign hit to the solar plexus, but a malign blow, aimed to cripple the spine and ruin a man.
Wolf stood on the whimpering man’s back. He had one foot on the back of the bandit’s head, keeping it buried in the grass.
“Don’t even think about moving,” the boy growled, shocking everyone present.
It was quite unnerving. The voice without a doubt belonged to a child, yet the way in which the words were spoken and the whole air he had about him made Wolf seem like the grim reaper.
“Did you just try to poison my father right in front of me?” he hissed. “Are you insane!? Why would you do that!?”
Wolf didn’t wait for a reply. He raised his foot from the man’s head, and slammed it into the adventurer’s shoulder blade.
*Crack*
The man screamed once more, but the wail was once again muffled by the grass stuffed in his mouth.
“Pleafe fpare me!” The adventurer mumbled miserably while spitting out grass and dirt.
“Sir Wolf! Please, let us question him first,” Red was so shocked that he addressed Wolf with an honorific.
Wolf coldly glared at the captain of Johns and Josh merchant group. Red felt as if he was being stared at by a Monster Beast, and not by an underdeveloped child. The scruffy man started sweating, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva. Seeing this scene Archibald cleared his throat. That was enough to get Wolf back at his father’s side.
“Are all people this stupid?” Wolf muttered, his mood grim. If his father hadn’t reacted just now, he would have torn the poisoner to shreds. If Wolf had one reverse scale it was his father’s safety.
“Son, now’s not the time,” Archibald whispered, and started moving away from the guards. It was their job to interrogate the mole.
“Friends, it seems that our dinner was spoiled. The two of us will bid you goodnight,” he said with feigned cheerfulness, leading Wolf away from the crowd.
Archibald’s lessons:
When planning which spells to prepare for the next day you should keep something in mind. Whether or not you will be interacting with people, whether or not you will be killing or helping them… Once you have a clear direction on what you want to do it’s easy to filter out the spells you don’t need.
