DAY 41 06:00, Chicken Farm

I groaned as the chickens started crowing right on schedule. Slightly confused I looked around, I was still laying in the farmyard. A chicken was pecking at my pack so I shooed it away. Groaning, I pocketed the coin pouch that was laying on my chest and stood up. I felt better, but phantom pains from yesterday still had me checking for injuries.

Looking around to orient myself, I headed back towards the castle. That had been a major shock, trying to take on an entire group had almost totally backfired. My first few successes with hunting and lucky shots had made me overconfident. I had known there might be ten of them and I walked right in like an idiot. I may have healed stronger, but it wouldn’t be enough. I needed to be smarter and get out of this one on one mindset.

I stopped by a group of trees and looked around for a decent specimen, then I picked the best looking branch and cut it off to make a new bow.

A drifting scent caught my attention, a few wild hogs were eating the crops. Steeling myself, I approached to the edge of where I felt confident I could hit them and readied an arrow. No mistakes this time. The arrow flew true, catching the hog between the ribs. The other two looked around in confusion. My next arrow found its mark and then the third hog took off running. I let it go.

I retrieved my arrows and took care skinning them. They were fleshy beasts and I got quite a bit of hide, and then restocked my sinew supply. I only had a rough idea of what I wanted, but hoped the theory was sound. With some concentration I crafted the skins into a suit of rough hide armour. It looked like crap, but hopefully it would provide a little survivability. According to my stats, even this more than doubled my damage resistance, which just made me feel even dumber for not having thought about armour before.

What was going on with me? That was such an obvious thing and it had not even crossed my mind. I wasn’t rich enough to hire a butler or life coach. What else was I forgetting? How long would it take me to realize I’d forgotten something essential?

As I sat there and ate the pigs I took my time scrolling through the menus that I could make appear. Not many, to be honest. Status, Skills, and the Log Out option which wouldn’t work for me. Still, it was a significant improvement from the condition I was in when I started. Status had various bits of data, such as health and other attributes, a note about special conditions like my keen senses, vaguely useful things like time played, time awake, and statuses.

The Skills list had expanded slightly. It seemed like some skills were included in the list as question marks, others were added when I was exposed to them. Somewhere along the way Intimidation, Inspiration, Navigation, Sleight of Hand, and Performance, had been discovered. The list was really growing, there might be dozens at this rate. There were still at least twenty question mark entries in the list. The entry for Stealth now had a useful little + symbol on it, as an effect from my ring. Tailoring had received a significant increase to rank 7, probably due to crafting the rough armour. My highest skill by far was Communication, at an impressive 40 ranks. That had really snuck up on me. Archery wasn’t far behind, at 24. My lowest skill was Mentalism, but even thinking about it too strongly weirded me out. Would using it make me more vulnerable to The Old Ones? Or was it what I needed to fight them off for good? It didn’t sound like a negative trait the same way increasing ranks of Bleeding or Hunger did, but I didn’t want to take the chance that it would make me more receptive to psychic control.

A few passive abilities had appeared in my status menu,

[Goblinoid Traits: Keen Sight, Keen Smell, Wilderness Adaptation]

[Lesser Core (Goblinoid): +10% Health and Stamina, +10% health regen]

[Unnatural Hunger: Can eat inedible materials for 10% nutritional value. Negates ingested toxin up to Rank 1. Materials eaten influences trait development.]

Dismissing the menus I jumped up. With a deep breath to find the trail I set off. Tracking the pig was disappointingly easy, most of this area being flat farmland, exposed to the wind. Nevertheless I wanted to get some training out of it. Stopping short of where I felt comfortable, I readied an arrow. I needed to expand my limits, and the farther away I could hit a target the safer I would be. I estimated it was a little over fifty meters away. WIth a deep breath I drew the arrow, aimed, and loosed. It killed a pumpkin behind the pig. Readying another arrow I corrected my aim slightly, and the arrow went short and skipped off the dirt. The pig took off running.

“What do I need? Heavier arrows, or faster arrows? Both? Heavier tips?” I was blanking on what would make them less susceptible to being blown around by the wind. I knew that I should know. I could feel the shape of it in my head.

Tapping my thumb on the bow I tried to remember. It was something I knew I’d had several conversations about over many years.

“Heavier tip needs a stiffer arrow. Faster needs a stiffer bow. Can I make that?”

At this point I wasn’t sure anymore. I’d never really considered the weight of the arrowheads or the stiffness of the arrows, I had just...made them. When was the last time a memory had happened to fill in something I had forgotten? Had it been before I blacked out before Jordan’s trial? I’d have to try some experiments the next time I had a chance, see if I could make a stronger bow and arrows better for long distance.

I jogged over and retrieved my arrows, and then followed the pig while practicing my stealth walking. When I had gotten close enough I summoned up the aim guide, but it seemed to max out at around twenty five meters, five more than previously but still not as far as I wanted to shoot, so I dismissed it. I was going to do this. I didn’t have any real proof what the intended maximum range of bows was in these circumstances, but they seemed to follow a ballistic curve, so maximum theoretical range should be the same as I was used to on Earth. Maybe it just wanted ludicrous skill ranks, like 80, before it deemed me worthy.

I nocked the arrow and took my time, shifting my feet, rolling my shoulders. With a slow inhale I drew the arrow and paused, when the moment felt right I released, the arrow hit an almost perfect double lung shot, and Archery rolled over to rank 25. A small notification popped up congratulating me on reaching Practitioner rank, and saying I would enjoy a +5% boost to accuracy and attack speed and damage and range with bows.

[Archery Practitioner: +5% additional accuracy and projectile speed. -5% effect of wind drift and gravity on arrows.]

When I waved that away, another appeared.

[Skill Challenges available]

[Archery trait: To prove yourself a Farshot Archer successfully hit your target beyond current maximum range with greater than 80% accuracy. Targets remaining 99/100]

[Archery trait: To prove yourself a Vital Strike Archer successfully perform a vital strike on your target with greater than 90% accuracy. Targets remaining 99/100]

[Archery trait: To prove yourself a Quickdraw Archer successfully release your arrow and hit the intended target less than 2 seconds after drawing the arrow. Targets remaining 100/100]

They all had me curious, but none said what their effect would be, whether there were any additional options, or if there were any drawbacks. Given the way the skills list got populated as I “discovered” new skills, I figured there were probably additional challenges that hadn’t been discovered yet.

“Think I could get homing arrows, or multishot?” I asked the pig, to no response.

After skinning the pig I sewed a new pack, hopefully one more durable this time. It wasn’t like they were hard to make, but it would get irritating if I had to keep making new ones every fight. The old pack I just left lying on the field, I couldn’t imagine it would be worth taking back with me.

On the walk back to the castle I stopped a few more times when I saw opportunities to practice my long distance archery. It did seem to be slowly improving, though I wasn’t sure how much of that was me and what was the skill. I had to stop when the traffic got thicker, no point risking it and angering the guards.

Back in the market I decided to spend a while in the market. I had apparently identified a few skills the last time I was here, so I might as well do some people watching and see if something good would pop up. If only there was some cheeseball “Luck” skill I’d be able to exploit.

It was a bit disorienting to keep the skill menu open while also keeping an eye on the background, but I managed to make it work. My Persuasion skill went up a whole 7% progress from watching people haggle for a few minutes. Simply observing others using skills seemed to have very limited growth opportunities, which made sense. Things would be totally out of whack if you just watched people do things and ended up able to do the thing without practice.

What I wanted to find was a relatively straightforwards way of training skills, especially combat skills. I could improve my mana through meditation, but improving health seemed to rely on being injured or ill and then healing. Would sparring be an option, if I could find someone willing to agree not to kill me. Or what about that potion Jordan had used after the Barghest hunt. It numbed pain, and in this world pain was worse than the injury itself. Would it work to take that potion, or something else to anesthetize myself and then train up health without feeling pain?

With that in mind I dismissed the menu and started looking around the market. It didn’t take too long to find an alchemy shop, with potions and herbs displayed on the side of a wagon.

“Good day, what has caught your eye today?”

“Do you have anything to reduce pain?”

“Indeed, Essence of Willow is a popular choice.”

I inspected the row of bottles, they were all fairly unimpressive.

[Weak Essence of Willow (Potion): +25% pain resistance for 60 minutes. +28 Toxicity]

“If I took more than one at the same time, would the effect multiply?”

“There would be a weak increase at the risk of increased toxicity. If you need a more potent effect you need a more potent potion. The alchemist reached out of sight and then held up a small lockbox with several other bottles. Some had +50% resistance, one had +75%.

“What’s the price on these?”

“Ten gold for the weak essences, then thirty, then seventy for the most potent.”

My expression must have given me away.

“Their value cannot be overstated. If you are wounded, these potions might be all that saves your life.”

“Thanks, but I just don’t have the money. Maybe after a few more jobs.”

“I might have an opportunity, if you are looking for work. I could use someone to gather some herbs for me. In return I could trade a weak potion.”

“Interesting. What herbs?”

“Silver Nightbloom. They can be found about half a day to the south, near the marshlands. They only bloom at night. If harvested during the day they lose potency. Bring me twenty. I have an illustration here.” He brought out a copy of a familiar looking book, the Imperial guild alchemy volume two, with a sketch of the flower. On the opposite page was a recipe for an Essence of Nightbloom potion that would increase mana recovery by +5 per minute for 12 hours. A notification popped up to show that a new alchemical recipe had been discovered. Thank you.

“I think I can do that for you. If it’s a half day away I should be back tomorrow with the flowers.”

He extended a hand and we shook on it, causing a quest notification to appear.

I decided to go back to the inn to check the job board. A few new ones had been added, but nothing in the same area. A pilgrim to Hammercabana in the far northeast was looking for an escort. A mage was needed to cure several blighted sheep to the north. One caught my eye, blacksmith needed, paying 80 gold, but the requirement was proficiency working with orichalcum to craft a matched pair of daggers of at least Fine quality and materials would not be provided.

Disappointed I turned away as someone else was approaching. He was a large brown skinned man, wearing armour of overlapping scales and carrying a large round shield slung over his pack and sturdy mace on his belt.

“You were here yesterday? Coyotes, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“Oh, pardon me, I am Ysyom, follower of Arvyen.”

“I met him, sort of. I’m Karl.”

“He mentioned you. I was surprised to see you here, but the gods have plans for us all.”

“Are you doing jobs for him?”

“Yes. Many of us are employed to complete jobs such as these when not needed for other duties.” He picked the pilgrim escort job. “Did you have a successful hunt?”

“I suppose it went as good as can be expected.”

“Excellent. Fare well.” He pressed a fist to his chest and then left.

He had been friendlier than expected. Not quite sure what to make of it I headed out again. While walking I kept an eye on the other travellers. Many were farmers or just regular people, a few looked like adventurers. Spears and bows seemed to be the most common, and now that I was actually paying attention, many were wearing hunting leathers, or even a few had mail coats.

A shield was a good idea, and maybe a spear, like the ones I had made for the goblins, but shorter so I could tuck it out of the way beside my quiver. Though I was already approaching the limits of what I could reasonably carry. Anything more and either my pack would be too cumbersome, or I’d need some other way of carrying stuff.

I stopped for a moment to get my map out and check for a river. One looked to be a few kilometers east, but would run alongside the road to the south. Would the more travelled parts have less of a chance of finding flint?

After a moment of consideration I turned east, I could just follow the river down to the marsh and it wouldn’t add much time. Once I crossed out of the farmlands the terrain got rockier. In the distance to the east tall mountains rose, one in particular rising high above the rest. Southpoint, according to my map.

It didn’t take long to find some flint once I had reached the river, but I took my time. There wasn’t any rush, so I discarded the Rough quality pieces. I kept a few Fine quality chunks, but what I really wanted was even higher. Excellent would do, because it seemed unlikely I’d find an Epic or Legendary piece of flint here. What would those even look like?

I took my time walking down the shore, occasionally passing people fishing, or small cabins. It seemed like a peaceful place. The farther I got from the castle, the longer the stares I got from the people I encountered. After three hours of searching I found a single Excellent quality chunk of flint.

There was a curious scent through this area. It was very similar to the Stag I had hunted far to the east, but somewhat different. The tracks by the bank were fresh, and the scent was strong. I readied an arrow and set off after it. It would be a fine dinner.

The ground was starting to get softer here, not quite marshlands but well on the way. I was actually a bit glad to not be wearing boots or they’d be soaked, though having mud squish between my toes was still a bit gross. I did my best to stay quiet.

About an hour into the hunt I heard it give a call ahead, from a cluster of trees. I knew that sound, a moose. Last time I had hunted one I had the advantage of a rifle and four-wheeled ATV. Lets see if my fifty five kilogram goblin ass would get crushed by nearly seven hundred kilograms of moose.

I thought about climbing a tree and waiting to see if it would come back this way, but that might take all night, and I would only get one shot before it ran off. I would have to do this on the ground, and hopefully get at least three arrows into it before it charged me.

Slowly I crept downwind of the trees. I could smell it in there, though the bushes hid it. Gradually I eased around a puddle and the moose came into sight. Its head was down, rummaging along the ground. He was a massive old bastard, nearly pure black except for a few long scars along the flank. I was about fifty meters away. Getting closer would mean a more precise shot, but also more risk of getting spotted and trampled. Challenging myself was the point of these trips, and I wouldn’t improve if all I did was shoot rabbits from ten meters.

I got settled, activated [Beastial Rage], and inhaled as I drew the arrow. Not giving myself time to second guess I aimed high and loosed. The arrow soared and I was already reaching for another by the time it caught the moose between the ribs, though it didn’t seem to penetrate far. It reared up and my second arrow caught it in the foreleg. Its antlers swung with frightening speed and ripped off nearby branches as it looked around, but it couldn’t seem to spot me. It took off running, its antlers ripping several branches off the trees. This was bad form to shoot from behind, but my third arrow caught it in the flank. I’d apologize to my hunting education instructor if I ever got out of here. I dismissed my rage once I was sure the moose wasn’t going to turn around and charge me.

As I had learned firsthand getting savaged by coyotes, those bleed debuffs were no joke. If all three wounds were bleeding it would be losing probably 15 health a second for the next 10 seconds, and without quick healing like I got from eating it wouldn’t survive long. I didn’t hurry too quick, because I didn’t want to spook it into running farther or risk it doubling back. With the soft ground the trail was too easy to see. Curious I checked the branches that had been damaged. One was a clean break, as thick as my arm. Excellent quality. Maybe there was a correlation between dangerous beasts and rare resources. I quickly processed the branch into a stick, splitting it in half to make two short ones, and then got out my flint and sinew and crafted it into a spear. I tucked it and the remaining stick into my pack, though they stuck out the top. In all it only took a few seconds, gotta love unrealistic crafting times.

That done, I resumed following the blood trail. In the distance I could see the moose diving into another cluster of trees. A few minutes later when I caught sight of it again it was laying on the ground panting. I nocked another arrow and put it into the beast’s ribs. It gave a wheezing bellow and fell still. After taking a moment to ensure it was dead, I started collecting my arrows. The one stuck in the foreleg had snapped, so I dismantled it and recovered the broadhead.

After skinning it, which gave my Skinning skill a nice bump up to rank 26, and also a +10% chance of harvesting a higher quality skin, I was left with the problem of having no place to carry it. My pack was already full, and even if I crafted a bigger pack it would be too heavy to carry for long. Nonetheless I extracted the sinews and dropped them on the pile, and then butchered the rest of it, giving me a small mountain of meat, and almost as much bone. Inside the pile was a Lesser Core, which I tucked away in my pack. As much as I wanted to eat it and get stronger, selling it would be a lot more useful.

After eating, I started crafting as many things as I could think of. I used the Excellent stick and some feathers to make a new arrow, for whatever good that would do. Then I made a new pack, the same size but more durable. There was still the majority of the hide left so I made a whole new suit of hunting leathers, which I felt looked a bit less amateurish. The result was

[Rough Hide Armour(Moose) Durability 150/150. Armour 175, +50 Resistance to Slashing damage] It seems even though my Tailoring skill wasn’t great, using better quality components still had a benefit. It gave me a jacket, pants, and armguards.

There was still some left, so I made a new quiver as well, and a new belt, and several small pouches. With the moose hide gone, I started moving things into the new pack. Some junk I left out, not entirely sure why I was carrying around a few small rocks and pieces of rabbit bones. I tossed those and upgraded the bone to moose. Maybe it would come in handy some day. I ate a few pieces of bone and some more meat, maybe it’d help me grow big and strong. A few mushrooms had survived at the bottom of my pack so I shrugged and ate those too but nothing seemed to happen.

Once everything I wanted to keep was transferred over to my new pack I stuffed the pigskin into it and left it by a tree. Maybe I’d grab it on the way back. Taking a chunk of meat for the road I headed out to look for these flowers, night was falling.

Finding the flowers was blissfully easy, being that they shimmered with their own light. It didn’t take long to gather twenty, and since there were others I grabbed fifteen more. They smelled good, a bit minty, so I ate one.

[Mana Recovery: Regenerate an additional 5 mana per minute for the next 10 minutes. Toxicity +4, ???] That was handy. Maybe I could sell these others for some decent money. They tasted great too.

Happy, I made my way back to the mountain of moose meat and grabbed another chunk to chew on, then headed to the other group of trees. My hope was confirmed, after sawing off a few more branches, this Red Oak was producing more Excellent quality wood. I managed to get eight more branches which I made into sticks, using one to make a new bow, and then disassembled the rest of my arrows for upgrading. In the end I got fourteen [Fine Arrow (Red Oak, Iron Broadhead) Durability 75/75. Damage 25 Piercing, 15 Slashing. Causes targets to bleed for 7 damage per second for 10 seconds.]