DAY 46 06:00

After taking a new days to settle in and read all the books, I was ready to tackle my next project of making some chests using my newfound engineering skills combined with carpentry and blacksmithing. Big sturdy, locking, chests. Shrya was an unrepentant snoop, and I’d frequently come back in to find that she had emptied my pack out and moved everything around to make more comfortable piles of my stuff to sleep on like an overgrown cat. Last night after an argument she had actually slept clinging to the ceiling, proving that her wall crawling didn’t require consciousness.

I grabbed my pack, but left everything but the essentials here. My plan was to load up the cart with as much ore as I could possibly move in one trip, so every last bit mattered. This was my first trip out, and I crossed quite a few goblin trails from the last few weeks. They were really expanding their territory now. Most were at least vaguely familiar, but a few I didn’t recognize. Had they...spawned? Birthed? Whatever the hell you called it when a goblin split open and three or ten cannibalistic little beasties wiggled out? I really hoped it was something that you needed to opt into, I wasn’t ready to be a parent-pod.

My hammer wasn’t the best tool for the job, but I’d need ore to make a pickaxe. It was slow but it worked, and I gradually knocked chunks off the wall. Every so often when I got tired of swinging the hammer I’d stop to load them onto the cart. By noon the cart was loaded to the point of creaking, Any more and I was sure it would break.

I was laying on the ground taking a break and stretching my back when I heard them. Grunting voices and growls. Goblins, young ones. Dumb ones. I rolled to my feet and saw them crouched on the hillside, eyes squinted against the sun. Three or four of them, with blue paint on their chests.

“Shiny.” The closest one was staring at my cart. He started to lope closer, sniffing, and the other three spread out.

“Hey.” My bow was laying on the ground with my pack, I eased sideways towards it. Even though these guys were half my height, I knew firsthand how vicious they could be. They all turned to look at me.

“Who?” He barked, crouching low.

“I’m Karl. What’s your name?”

“Name? Blue.” He turned back to the cart and picked up a chunk of ore, sniffing it.

“Okay, Blue. I need you to put down that ore, okay?”

“Mine.” He started to gnaw on the ore.

“No, it’s mine. Put it back.” I hooked the bow with a foot and flipped it up, nocking an arrow and drawing smoothly. He snarled at me, the others all getting ready to pounce.

A thrown spear hit the one closest to the hill in the neck. We all flinched, my arrow striking the side of the cart. With whooping cries white painted goblins erupted over the hilltop, brandishing spears. The blue ones scattered, fleeing back to the forest. A few white ones gave chase, but the others fell on the body and devoured it in seconds.

I just stood there gawking as I recognized one. Abe had become chiseled with muscle, except where he was furred like a gorilla bred with the sasquatch. I wouldn’t even consider him a goblin anymore. Budding tusks jutted from the corners of his mouth. Orc perhaps. Ogre maybe. He casually ate the dead goblin’s head in just a few crunching bites. Streaks of warpaint covered his skin and fur.

“Abe? Wow.”

“Strong.”

“Where did those blue ones come from?”

“North. Scouting. Stealing.”

“Has there been lots of fighting?”

“Some. We winning. But they many. Many many.”

“Maybe we can help each other. I need to safely get this load of ore back to my forge, and after that I can make you some iron spears. Deal?”

“Is good.” He picked up the fallen piece of ore than Blue had been sniffing and popped it in his mouth, chewing loudly and grimacing as he swallowed the pieces. “Make better spear than food.” He barked something to his minions and they dispersed.

I got my pack on and started slowly tilting the cart up, struggling to even get it moving. Abe just bumped into me and nearly sent me flying. He grabbed the handles and took off at a jog, cart wheels cutting through the dirt behind him, leaving me to stare after him. Just how strong had he gotten, and how? What had they been getting up to out here?

I jogged off after him. He didn’t stop until we had gotten to my cabin, where he set the handles down, took two steps, and fell over onto his face. I cautiously nudged him with a toe, but he was fast asleep. I opened the menu and focused on him, it didn’t show me everything, but he was completely drained of both stamina and mana, and his health was even being drained a bit. His stats dwarfed my own. Crazy bastard. Was he just going all out constantly, making my few hours of training look like a joke? Now that I looked closely I could see many scars over his body. Small patches of missing fur, scars masked by the white paint. Claw marks, spear wounds, bite marks. While I had been running errands in peaceful lands he had been fighting for his life every single day.

Figuring he wasn’t in any immediate danger, I left him for the moment and started bringing ore over to the forge. Once I had a big pile ready I got the fire started and began making ingots. While that was processing, I went into my alchemy kit and started working on a batch of stamina potion. I forcefed some nearly-expired strength potion to Abe, and then refilled the skin and did it again. By then the ore was almost done so I piled more in, tossing the ingots into a pile on the side.

It actually didn’t take long at all to process the whole cartload of ore. Then I got my hammer and set to work. First I made a pair of tongs, so I wouldn’t have to nudge things around with the hammer, and then a stewpot and three bowls with spoons. Then I made five iron spearheads to give to Abe, and another for myself but longer and bladed so it could be used for slashing as well. Then I tarted on the locks and banding for the chests.

I was just finishing up the last lock when Abe snorted and stood back up.

“Why did you run all the way here?”

“Need to be strong. Need to see strong.”

“You acted tough because the others were watching?”

He didn’t answer, looking off the other way and smacking his lips.

“What drink? Can run more.”

“It’s a potion of stamina. It’ll help a little bit, but you should be careful. Take care of yourself.”

“Need to be strong for war.”

“Well you can rest here for a bit. I’m going to try cooking something for dinner, and I need to get some wood for those spears. Sit down, relax.”

He groaned slightly as he sat back down. He sniffed and looked around, looking a bit confused.

I got the stewpot set up on a small fire pit, and then went off to the river to collect some water and find some ingredients along the way. It didn’t take long to have a rabbit and mushroom stew going, and then I grabbed my saw and went to collect some branches. I made most of the spears as long as I was tall, but for my own spear I shortened the stick to half the length. That way I could sling it along my quiver without it sticking out too far. Then on second thought I made a short spear for Shrya as well. The spears were ready at the same time the stew was. I portioned it out and took some inside for Shrya. She was sulking, and hissed when the sunlight came in through the open door, but she took the bowl and went to the corner farthest from the door.

Abe had finished his bowl when I got back outside and it looked like he was thinking about eating the bowl itself so I took it away from him.

“If you are interested, I am going to need more iron ore eventually. If you can help bring it back here, I can make more things for you. Is good?” I showed him the spears, and he was quite delighted.

“Is good. I bring lots of ore. Need pot.” He jumped up and tossed the spears in the cart. Then he ran off with it before I could tell him I didn’t need more right now.

I sat down and ate my bowl of stew. It wasn’t half bad.

The skirmish with the blue goblins bothered me, from the sounds of it they were only escalating, and had the advantage of numbers. So far they hadn’t come this way much, but any of them would be able to follow our trail back here.

Looking around the clearing, I doubted my choice to start building here. It was a nice spot, not too far from the river or the hills, but it was very exposed.

Thankfully one of the most valuable things I had learned from the Engineering book was a skill that utilized Calculation and my crafting skills to make plans and keep track of how much materials I would need to build it.

I walked around the clearing, making a plan. Ghostly outlines starting appearing. A wooden perimeter wall with a gate towards the hill, catwalks along the tops, and another gate towards the river. A sturdy building around the forge, a stable that would hold two wagons and four horses, a watch tower in the center high enough to see over the walls. A water cistern with enough capacity for weeks of use. An expansion to the cabin for a store room.

Surveying it all, I felt it would be sufficient to hold out against a small siege, then I looked at the material requirements. 1304 logs, 7492 sticks, 20084 cords, 9006 nails, 276 stones, 80 jars of cement…

I waved it away. That would take months of work, and far more materials than I would be able to gather. The stable went first, then the tower, then the extra room on the cabin. Keeping the wall, cistern, and building for the forge was a much more manageable amount of materials required. Enough that I would likely be able to get it done in a few days of work.

It was early afternoon now, enough time to make some progress. First would be a new cart for moving the materials, which would require nails and I already had some grease to use for the axel.

Firing up the forge again, I took an hour and made a few hundred nails, throwing them into a pile against the cabin wall. Then, while I already had it going I made a couple dozen hinges, a new lock that could be put on the cabin door, another forty iron broadheads, and then another bladed spearhead. I grabbed another half stick and made a shortspear, leaving it leaning against the wall.

Once that was done I grabbed my tools, the skin of grease, and headed out towards the trees towards the river. I figured stripping out the trees on this side would be safest.

When the trees started coming down progress went fast. In under an hour I had a new cart, and was almost done on the first load of ten logs.

The logs vanished as I tossed them into the ghostly outline of the planned structures, snapping into place. I started with the forge expansion, figuring I’d work my way out to the walls.

On the fourth load of logs the sun had set, and Shyra emerged from the cabin wearing the belt of pouches and a knife I had made for her. She sniffed at the ghostly outline of the forge expansion, and then tried to lick it. I was surprised she could see it, but I supposed it would be sensible for Followers to be able to do so. Hopefully others wouldn’t be able to see the glowing forms at night, because they’d probably be visible for kilometers.

“What is this?”

“Plans for defenses. I ran into some hostile goblins, they’re the ones in blue paint.”

“Kill enemies?”

“I didn’t, but Abe did. He was the one that came by earlier. He might be back soon. If you want to help, we could use a couple dozen rabbit hides and sinews. I made you a shortspear, like mine if you want to give it a try.”

“Tasty rabbits. They scream when they die.” She grabbed the spear, and then scurried into the bushes. Within a few seconds there was a rustle of bushes and a rabbit screaming for a moment before falling silent. I just went back for more logs. I suppose this was just the way she was made.

Over the course of the night I lost count of how many trees I cut down and hauled back. The process took a few durability points off my saw. I had kind of thought steel tools might be indestructible when cutting wood, but apparently you just needed to chop down hundreds of trees.

Shrya spent most of the night hunting. She was a supernaturally effective hunter, her eyes and nose being just as good as mine, but also having keen hearing as well. I suspected she could hear the animals breathing. There was a large pile of dead rabbits, as well as several birds, and a deer she had brought back in quarters. The thing was three times her size.

Now the sun was just rising. The new building was done, as was the wall and gates. The cistern would have to wait for another day. I was making more stew, and then I was going to go inside and not stand back up until tomorrow. The stamina points might regenerate, but it took a toll on the mind. The higher my stats advanced the faster they regenerated, but I felt tired in my soul.

When the stew was ready I brought the bowls inside. Shrya was perched on a chair in front of the alchemy kit, brewing something slimy and dark that dripped into an animal skin I didn’t recognize. A bone needle and sinew were also on the table nearby, a rudimentary sewing kit.

“When did you learn that?” I put the bowl on the table, and then took a few steps back, “And what the hell is that shit?” The slime smelled like rot and death. I recognized the components, blood, deathcap mushrooms, comfrey root. She was brewing poison. If that got into a wound the target would rot from the inside out. This wasn’t hunting poison, it’d taint the meat and probably the hide as well, this was war poison for when killing was the goal. It was more potent than I could brew.

Now that I looked around, there were multiple skins of poison in the corner, of gradually changing potency. It seemed like poisons had a longer shelf life than potions did, all of them had more than 48 hours before they turned inert. She must have been doing this between hunting trips all night to train the skill that high. More than just the night. She must have been training this for several days while I had been outside.

“They are coming. Scouts to the east. Four or five nights.” It was the most complete sentence I had ever heard her say.

“Did you see them?”

“Heard them. Drums. Horns.”

“You’re going to stay and fight?”

“Stay and kill. Kill and win.”

There was a look in her eye, hungry and anxious. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just handed her a bowl of stew and then sat down to eat mine. With one hand I felt in my pocket for the Essence of Willow bottle. It might be time to use it.