Impossible to Master

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"So, what's with the sudden interest in Ghosts?" Bast seemed genuinely curious. They were waiting outside the portal to the holiday event, idly watching players come and go. The other two members of their group hadn't arrived yet, so they had some time to talk.

Meliadol didn't spare any time describing what he had seen earlier. He went into detail, as much as he understood at least, and by the time he finished Bast had a serious expression on his face. "I see…" he said after a moment, "Well, I guess it'd be a good thing to tell you right now that you shouldn't expect to do what Heoh has done, at least not for a long, long time."

"What? Why?" Meliadol couldn't hide the crestfallen tone in his voice, "I mean, I know I need to level up and learn the class…"

"That's not it at all." Bast's eyes softened slightly, "Well, okay, maybe there is something to that, but the main problem is the class itself."

"Oh?"

"Ghosts aren't strong."

Meliadol looked at the Berserker as if the man was crazy. "I just watched one take on three people and win…"

Bast sighed, rolling his eyes, "Heoh doesn't count. There's a lot of outside factors that are at play here beyond just her class." The brawny man held up a finger, "One, her opponents were most likely not good players. It's not hard to shine when surrounded by dirt. <Fidelis> is a branch guild for <Fidelity>. They're known as a heavily focused PvE guild. They kill internet dragons, not players. Their reputation among PvPers is going down at the slightest gust of wind in PvP or attacking smaller groups with much larger groups just so they can win."

A second finger came up, joining the first, "Two, one incident isn't enough to properly gauge the strength of a class. Heoh has been playing since the beta. She could be any class and accomplish what she did. In fact, she would do better with almost any other class."

Meliadol's heart sank as he mulled over the Berserker's words, "So Ghosts aren't good?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you–"

"I said," Bast stressed the word, "That they weren't strong. There's more to strength than just being 'good'. Ghosts, in terms of possibility, are actually quite powerful. They have a slew of abilities, and the class truly awards creativity in terms of application of those abilities. Their damage isn't too shabby either."

"Then what's the issue?"

"You know the adage 'easy to pick up, but hard to master'"?

"Yes?"

"Well, Ghosts go by the saying 'hard to pickup, impossible to master'." Bast paused, letting his words sink in, before continuing, "If you're a good player, Ghosts will be the wind under your wings. You'll make the impossible look easy. But if you're even the smallest iota less than amazing, you'll crash and burn. They have shit paper mache armor, almost no leeway for mistakes, and a thousand different ways to do the same thing, but only one is the correct path. I would never, in good faith, recommend it to you."

"I see…"

Perhaps Bast's words were meant to dissuade him. But if that was the case, the Berserker didn't know him well at all. Heoh's fight was fresh in his mind, and the implication that a good Ghost required a better player was enough to pique his interest. If he took this class as his own, and he mastered it, perhaps he too could play a beautiful melody that left players clapping with appreciation. People would be forced to acknowledge him.

Telling him to not do it was pretty much fanning the flames.

Bast sighed, no doubt guessing Meliadol's thoughts. "Well, I can tell my words have no effect on you. So, if we're going to do this, we might as well start making your legacy gear."

Meliadol looked at Bast in surprise, "Wait, what? Isn't legacy gear something that requires max-level materials? Should I even be worrying about it?"

Bast frowned. "Didn't you look at that stuff I sent you?"

Meliadol shook his head, "Are you kidding? You sent me like fifty links! I focused on the ones that you told me to."

"Oh," Somewhat mollified, Bast continued, "Well there was one that described legacy gear in detail. Legacy gear levels up with you, in increments of five. The materials are generally uncommon and rare drops around your level. Then at max level, they have three upgrades, with difficult components beyond the norm for each step."

"Do I need to have it leveling up? Or could I just ignore legacy gear?"

Bast's nose scrunched up, as if he had smelled something awful, "I mean, I guess, but it's generally not a good idea in my opinion. Legacy gear is custom made to the player. There's almost limitless possibilities, so letting it evolve with you is a good idea."

Meliadol rubbed his chin as he thought. So he could actually start making his gear? That was news. From what little bit he had picked up, the making of legacy gear was governed by the DFS, allowing for almost limitless variations in gear that could be made. Darlia's wrappings were just one example. Heoh's chain and dual daggers was another. What would be good for his own playstyle?

A thought struck him in that moment.

"Hey, Bast?"

"Hm?"

"What's your legacy gear?"

The Berserker laughed, "I don't use mine. I keep it in the bank."

"…why?" It seemed wasteful. If the making of legacy gear was so strenuous, and the effect of having it so important, why would the Berserker shy away from using his?

Bast shrugged, looking away, as if intently interested with the random players going into the portal. "Oh, well, you know. Personal reasons. I do just fine without it."

Meliadol wasn't the most socially savvy person, but even he recognized the mood in the air. The normally jovial man was speaking in a tone that implied 'just drop it'. Coughing into his hand, he lightly changed the subject back, "So, uh, well, when do you wanna do whatever I need to for this legacy gear?"

"If you're serious about doing the Ghost thing, we can go see a Blacksmith I know right after our dungeon runs. He usually stays logged on for a while, so it should be no rush."

"Oh? And he'll make it for me?"

"Mhm!" Bast gave a big thumbs up, before frowning slightly, "Well, I guess I should warn you now. The Blacksmith I know is one of the best. He really knows his stuff. There's just one, small, minor really, issue…"

"Why does it seem like its not really that small of a thing?"

"Well, he's a bit…odd. Eccentric really."

Meliadol could feel the question hanging onto the end of the sentence, like low-hanging fruit begging to be plucked. Not one to be deterred, he reached for it anyway.

"Eccentric…in what way?"

Bast leaned in, his eyes wide, voice low, as if imparting an important secret, "He's…uhh…a 'hardcore roleplayer'."

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