Arthur’s fumbling with wooden shafts without previous training went about as well as one would expect. After diving in the water to fetch javelins for an hour, he decided to grow himself a target so that his weapons had something to hit, but even then he still had to throw himself in the underground lake more often than not.

Still, while the wood of the target was as soft as he could make it without it being paste outright so that he wouldn’t damage the tip to the javelins as much as possible, when he did manage to hit the round piece of wood no one could deny his throws did a lot of damage.

The creatures he had met until now may have thick enough skin– or exoskeletons in some cases– to shrug off this level of attack, but even they may be thrown off balance with a well-placed throw, or even injured if he could hit them in a weak spot such as the eyes or mouth.

Arthur decided that the javelins were a good choice of weapon and that following through with this kind of training would be worth it, and so it went that he spent the rest of his 'day' alternating between throwing javelins, swimming and sitting before his campfire while growing firewood, fibre and fruits. He then spent a long time trying to figure out how to weave a rope, cursing and stomping around the place.

In the end, when he was too exhausted to continue and his hands were starting to bleed from rubbing together with wood and rope he decided to lie down and get some sleep. While he wanted to get out of the damp cave as soon as he could, and he felt he could crack how to put together the damn ropes if he tried a bit longer, Arthur decided that knowing how to respect his limits would be fundamental in surviving in the dangerous world he found himself in.

As such, organizing a decent sleeping schedule seemed like a decent first step towards avoiding to burn himself out.

Having decided so, Arthur quickly fell asleep, although sleeping on the hard and cold rocks of the cave couple together with the overall dampness of the place resulted in a restless sleep, filled with nightmares populated with monstrous insectile creatures and javelins.

When he woke up for good, it was to the tingling sensation coming from his status screen informing him he had gained a skill during the night, somehow, called [Self-taught Javelin], which was followed by another 'ding' a couple of hours later after Arthur had breakfast when he finally figured out how to decently tie fibre together and had finished his first length of rope.

His messing around with various stuff the day before and finishing this latest project had been enough to be recognized and gain the skill [Ingenious Cobbling], which was either a random skill to craft shoes or a nod to his ‘throw stuff together and see what happens’ approach to crafting. He really hoped it was the latter.

So now Arthur’s status showed up as a list of six skills, a number which he hoped wouldn’t rise further since he suspected he would need at least some slots open if he wanted to find a job when he reached civilization.

Skills - [6/12 Slots Filled]

Rank

Level

Category

Desperate Dodge

Common

4

Active Skill

Sun Tolerance

Common

6

Resistance

Hide in Plain Sight

Uncommon

8

Ability

Magick of the Bountiful Oasis

First Invocation – From Sand, Seed

Rare

12

Magick Set

Self-taught Javelin

Common

1

Expertise

Ingenious Cobbling

Uncommon

1

Expertise

His newest skills were listed under the same category, ‘Expertise’, finally confirming that each category didn’t only include a single skill and that he could probably have more than one skill per category. He could still rely only on the names of the categories to understand how they were divided, but it didn’t seem to be something that mattered much at the moment anyway.

Again, he hoped he could find civilization before filling his slots out with combat and survival skills, because if he didn’t he probably would need to continue fighting for a living to earn this world’s equivalent of money, something he didn’t find very appealing.

Sure, he at least had a form of magic– or magick– to use as a last resort, but he didn’t know yet how rare or useful it would be, so he could not rely only on that.

Resolving himself once again to get out of the underground, and then away from the desert as fast as he could, Arthur went back to finish tying rope and fibre together, leaving the javelin training for later.

When he had a satisfyingly strong rope of a decent length, and he had exhausted himself throwing javelin after javelin for hours on end, Arthur switched back to his mental list of crafting projects, realizing he probably wouldn’t be able to create a backpack, not at his level of skill.

Unfortunately, while he could craft rope decently enough, he had no idea how to start making a sheet of fabric that was strong enough for what he needed. He also couldn't simply make a rigid container out of wood, since it would probably be uncomfortable to wear, even without considering the weight he would have to carry together with the javelin quiver and gourds.

In the end, when he got out from underground, he would have to be satisfied with just bringing his javelins, which would be stored in the quiver tied with a strap across his back, and the two gourds he had decided to carry with a tight rope belt, making food on the spot using his magick.

His plans of having a way to carry stuff around bashed early on in their life, Arthur checked several times if he had anything else he would need to travel the desert, when he realized he was still walking around barefoot.

It was a simple thing, but he had become so accustomed to it after arriving in this world with just his pyjamas that he hadn't even considered it in his first listing of essentials, even though the soles of his feet were quite sore.

Keeping in mind an image of his foot, he created a seed which would grow into a thick sole, its top side modelled after the form of his foot while the bottom would have deep grooves to keep a grip on the sand. He also remembered to include three holes for the string that would keep it attached to his feet, which he tied in after it finished growing.

In just a matter of minutes he had a ‘comfortable’ pair of shoes, which would at least prevent him from cutting his feet or getting stung by things hiding in the sand.

The last of his more relevant and short term issues resolved, Arthur went back to both figuring out how to get out from this hole and working on getting more rope together.

The day before, while he was still trying to figure out how to make rope, he had realized there was no way he could get out using a ladder, for two main reasons.

First of all, the original plan had been to grow the whole thing in one go, when he didn’t know there was a limit to his ability, which would have made it sturdy enough Arthur would be able to climb it without it breaking midway. As it was, he wasn’t confident in the strength of a ladder made by throwing sticks and rope at each other.

The second issue was something he realized only after searching for the hole he had come from. He had somehow forgotten that when he had arrived in the cave the first time, he hadn’t landed on hard ground, but rather he had fallen directly into the water, preventing a couple of his ribs from breaking from a fall several meters high.

As such, the hole wasn't in a place he could climb a ladder up to, but rather a couple of meters away from land, meaning his only option would be to throw rope at the problem and hope it would get stuck somewhere.

Or maybe that isn’t my only option, Arthur realized. I could attach a length of wood at the end I’m throwing, shaped like a hook. That way it’s more likely to catch on to something.

Having decided on a battle plan, Arthur went to work on designing an appropriate hook for the job and making more rope, of which he would need at least six meters. He was almost finished making rope, which took longer than he expected for the amount he needed, but he soon encountered a problem with making a good enough hook.

Problem was, there was no way a hook made of normal wood would be able to sustain his weight without snapping, so he needed a way to distribute his weight in another way, which would require a whole load of experimenting.

He rolled up his figurative sleeves, set himself up in what he thought was an appropriate meditative pose and started playing around with [From Sand, Seed].

An hour later, Arthur was physically sweating from the effort of maintaining the mental concentration required to work for such a long time on a single seed. His head was pounding as much as it had when his body had been using all his strength to fight off his infection, but he didn’t have to suffer long this time.

His eyes opened and he flopped to the ground, a seed fully formed and already sprouting clenched in his hands. He immediately stopped putting strength in his grip before he killed the damned thing, if he even could, and admired the result of his handiwork laying on the palm of his hand.

Where all of his other creations had been mostly the same green round seeds barely double the size of a rice grain, this time it took on the form of an iron-grey doughnut as big as a baseball. The final design when the seed grew to its full form was that of a three-pronged hook, with the seed as the ring to which he would tie one end of the rope.

Although the three hooks of the anchor would help distribute weight, that wasn't their main purpose, nor were they the main reason he had taken almost an hour to form its seed. Rather, the sheer density of wood he had packed in the anchor was the culprit, and it probably made the object as strong if not stronger than iron overall, while still maintaining some of the flexibility of wood.

Honestly, he was tempted to redo all of his javelins with the same method, but settled on only making three things while waiting for the anchor seed to finish growing. First, now that he had levelled to 13 thanks to his latest push, he wanted to make a spear with his new method, as long as he could make it.

Second and third, a small buckler and a plate of armour to protect the area over his heart, which would protect his most vulnerable vital spot. He could also make a helmet or even an entire suit of armour if he wanted, but the prospect of being slowed down, thus hindering his [Desperate Dodge], and being cooked alive under all the covering made him reconsider.

Thus he spent the third, –probably, still not sure, maybe second– and he hoped last day underground, finishing up his means of defence and packing as much javelin training as he could until his muscles were sore.

He fell to sleep quickly thanks to both his mental and physical exhaustion, aided by the bundle of rope he had made and had decided to use as a makeshift mattress. It wasn't comfortable by a long shot, but it was still better than the hard rock floor.

As the morning before, Arthur woke up, this time without the tingling indicating he had gained a skill and had the usual breakfast of assorted fruits, a banana, an apple grown without peel nor stem and just the seed in its middle, and, made in a moment of creativity, a coconut.

After finishing breakfast and before putting on his gear, there was one last thing Arthur had to do to be ready to leave the cave, which was to get his anchor anchored somewhere up above. If that didn't work, he was back to the drawing board and there was no meaning to getting readied up.

Taking a deep breath to get his game mindset on, Arthur attached the hook to his rope, took up the bundle and walked towards the edge of the water, at the nearest point where he could barely see the hole up in the ceiling.

He loosened enough rope that it would reach the rift if he managed to aim correctly, and started swinging around the side where the hook was attached, testing its strength and making sure the anchor wouldn’t just fly off when he threw it for real.

Satisfied, still a serious expression on his face, Arthur started swirling around the rope in circles above his head, making the contraption gain momentum before redirecting it down slightly towards the water and then up harshly, hoping he got the timing right.

The anchor thunked on the ceiling before falling in the water with a wet plop. Arthur sighed, and started rewinding the rope.

He'd gotten the timing right, but unfortunately he had given too little rope and it had hit a whole meter too early before the hole. No matter though, when he got his hands on the anchor he made sure it wasn't damaged, loosened up a meter or two more of rope and simply tried again.

Two tries later he got the timing and length right and the anchor disappeared above and over the ceiling. Arthur wasn't very hopeful he would be able to snag it at the first real try, but he still sent a small prayer before pulling on his end of the rope. It wasn't much of a surprise when the anchor gave and fell back into the water.