April 23, 5319 A.A.

"I don't understand." Mark stammered, "What are we doing?"

"Those are foundations. Foundations for houses. We have 11 houses, and 49 people. That sound like good math to you?"

"No. I guess it doesn't."

"I had two friends staying with me before, and that was bad enough, but now I have two random assholes that came here with you on top of that. Now the only way to fix that, is to build more houses. So while you've been learning the basics, I've been learning how the hell I'm supposed to build proper foundations without cut stone. Best I could figure was large stones and a slurry of pebbles and mortar to fill the gaps, and that will have to do. So now, you and I are gonna build some cabins. First few we will do together, but after you have it figured out you'll be on your own as I lay the next foundations. We need about twenty more houses to make everyone comfortable again, and we need it done soon before people get angry about the cramped quarters."

"Wow, alright. Where do we start?"

"See that pile of logs?"

"Yeah?" Mark questioned as he noticed a large stack of logs piled against the palisade wall, each was about two feet thick, and 16 long.

"We need one of those cut in half, to lay along the short sides. Once those are set down, we bring over four logs. Two for each of the long sides. Lay them along the edge, and the ends will be resting on those first half logs we've already laid down. All we need to do is cut out a round notch halfway into the new logs where they cross the ones below from the short side so they will reach the ground. Doesn't need to be perfect, we can fill in any gaps later. We will have a rectangular building twice as long as it is wide, and we can worry about the doors and windows later. Get the walls up high enough and I'll show you the roof."

"I'm not sure I understand..."

"Dammit Mark, it's not complicated. We got logs, we need walls. So we stack them on top of each other. But we need to support them, so we alternate which sides were stacking on so they hold each-other up instead of just falling over. But now there's gaps because one log is sitting atop another at the corner, but they go to different walls. So the way we fix that, is we cut big notches in the top logs so they settle down on the ones below. Now we've got fast, simple, sturdy, thick walls. Now get going!"

"You said I was done!" Mark blurted out in his surprise.

"Done with the spears, yes. Not done working. Now get to it, now."

"Alright, alright. I get it. I'll get started." Mark grumbled as he walked over to the pile. Then he stopped, as he realized just how huge these logs were. "How the hell are we supposed to move these!?"

Liam glared at Mark, strode over to the pile, and picked up a log. There was no huffing or heaving. No planning or straining. he simply picked up the log, walked towards the closest foundation, and set it on a pair of sturdy saw horses.

"Showoff..." Mark grumbled at Liam's display of strength

"Really Mark I thought we were past this. When was the last time you looked at your status?" Liam groaned disappointedly

"Last night."

"Open it again."

"Show status windows." Mark spoke while waving his arms in front of him sarcastically. He had gained three levels in carpentry and two in craftsman, nothing else had changed.

Player MenuNameMarcusRaceHumanPrimary ClassCraftsmanTitleSecondary ClassFactionChilton VillageStatsLevel3.3Age28Health20.3Defense10Regeneration10Resistance10Endurance20.3Mana0Strength21.57Agility10Intelligence20.3Wisdom10Charisma10Leadership10Craftsmanship20.3

Skill MenuClassSkillsLevelStatBonusCraftsman103H/E/S/I/Cr10.3Bowyer0Endurance0Carpenter127Strength1.27

"It's open, what am I supposed to be seeing?" Mark asked, his voice filled with condescension as he was filled with indignant arrogance.

"Don't you take that tone with me boy." Liam menaced.

"I'm sorry... I just don't understand." Mark quibbled, his short-lived confidence wilted under Liam's glare.

"Look at the number next to your strength. What is it?"

"22" Mark answered, rounding the overly precise number.

"Do you have any idea what that means?"

"I'm stronger?"

"Yes, but do you have any idea how much stronger?"

"The axe is easier to use, and I guess moving around the heavier cabinets and cut logs is easier as well."

"The average person in your world has 10 strength, what you started with here. You now have 22. You are more than twice as strong as you were when you arrived. Move that log" Liam gestured to the next massive log in the pile.

"I can't-" Mark tried to object.

"NOW!" Liam roared.

Shocked into action by the angry roar of his mentor, Mark grabbed the log and heaved. The log lifted, albeit slightly from the pile before he dropped it suddenly, startled that it worked. "How?" Mark blurted out, stunned.

"You are stronger now. You won't be able to lift it, not properly. But you can heave it off the pile and roll it to the foundation. Cut the log I put on the saw horses, lay the halves down, then heave this full log into place, one side at a time. Do what ever you need to do to get it there. When the wall rises we will use two thinner logs as a ramp to roll it up to the height we need. You are pathetic, but you can at least do this."

"Ok..." Mark sighed, and picked up a hefty rip saw. He climbed atop the log and began to saw the massive tree down the middle. He had to shift it a few times to avoid sawing through the trestles. The whole time he sawed through the 16 foot long monster, Liam carried log after log to the foundation, laying them on each side to be ready as soon as Mark finished the cut. When he passed the halfway point, Liam brought straps and tied the log "Can't let it break on its own. Need a clean cut." He then resumed carting the logs back and forth, only returning when Mark neared the end to add more straps. Mark finally cut through the last of it, and stumbled off the top, exhausted from the arduous process. Managing to complete it without a break was a testament to the rise of his endurance.

Liam removed the straps and the halves crashed to the ground on either side of the trestles. He hefted one, and gestured to Mark for the other. It was half, so he was able to drag it along slowly. By the time he made the short journey, Liam was already well ahead of him. His log had been positioned along the western side, leaving Mark the east. They were set right at the edge of the foundations, and Liam hefted the first full log onto the northern side, resting one end on the half-log and the other in the middle of the foundation. He hefted his axe, and carved out a deep notch before grabbing his chisel and rounding out the cut. Then he rolled the log into place, and it settled in a tight grip. While Liam mirrored the same on the second half of the northern side while Mark fumbled with the first half of the south. He managed to round the cut, and when he rolled the log into place, it landed loosely. "Sloppy work, but we can patch it later. Keep going." As Liam finished his, he pulled out massive steel nails, which he drove in at an angle into the logs where they met in the middle of the north wall, binding them together solidly. Next came the first full log on the east and west, with notches cut to fit the logs on the north and south. Back and forth they went, and by the time the last of the sun vanished behind the mountains, they had built the wall up four logs high, a full eight feet. "Tomorrow we will start the roof, but you are finished for the day. Good work."

Finally released from his toils, Mark staggered off back towards the village, though he was not the only one doing so. Working from dawn till sunset was the norm in the village, and he saw farmers and hunters all making their way back towards the safety of the palisades. The only ones who worked at night were the guards, who took up their stations in their crude watchtower and in front of the gates, ready to ward off any of the forest dwellers who wandered too close to the village. As he was stumbling back along the road, he caught sight of a familiar white robe ahead of him. He sped up and grabbed her around the waist from behind, embracing his dear Alexandra. However, rather than a soft hello, he was swiftly kicked in the groin and collapsed to the ground in pain. "How dare you! Loretta screeched, as all the villagers making their way back inside stopped to laugh. It wasn't his Alexandra, it was Loretta, the single most ornery woman in the village.

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April 24, 5319 A.A.

The next morning as the first rays of light pierced the vale, Jothan had led his hunters through the forest east of Chilton. They had left before dawn and were about five miles from the village. This nowhere near the furthest they had been, but it was a good distance to start their hunt. They were here to track the fierce umber bears. Dianne had made the request, they had brought back the hide to her on a previous hunt, and it had so far proven to be the softest, warmest fur and most durable leather she had worked with. She promised to outfit the hunters with new cloaks and leathers from the marvelous material if they brought some back. The beasts dwelled in caves in the craggy hills and mountain range that jutted out into the valley from the north. There were six in the group, four old hands and two new recruits. Jothan, Maric and Aaron were rangers, Adam and Douglass were protectors, and Giles was their trapper. Aaron and Adam were the two new recruits, but both had done well for themselves. Jothan had no complaints with the hardworking pair. Aaron led the two pack horses, and Adam did well as a second for Douglass, stepping in when needed to keep their prey away from the archers.

The spot they had arrived at was their first encounter with he umber bear, and the base of a large hill. Ever since the first kill, they had spied the large black beasts roaming the hills from afar but now it was an entirely different situation where they were tracking one of the fiercest beasts, a fair match for even the highland direwolves which roamed this same highland range. Luckily, their immense size meant the beasts left an easy trail to follow. Jothan called out to his trapper, "Giles, take the lead. See what you can find." The old creaky trapper nodded, and wandered along the base of the hill with the party and pack horses in tow. He paced back and forth, examining the ground. Adam found a bear track he thought Giles had missed, and called out to him. Giles quickly brushed him off, pointing out that the track was over a week old and likely led to nowhere. They continued their search until the sun escaped the mountain's reaching heights, finally Giles stopped. "This one, can't be older than a few hours. Its not moving too quick, we can catch it without too much trouble."

"Well done Giles, lead the way! All of you, keep an eye out. Last thing we want is to blunder into a pack of direwolves." Giles broke into a run along the unmistakable trail, they were searching for bears at the edge of their territory for a reason. The deeper they wandered into the hills, the more dangerous it became. The weakest bears and wolves were forced out to the lowlands, and often roamed alone. If the bear wandered higher before they caught up, they risked a serious battle. They raced along the base of the hill, the trail cut around the jutting corner of a rocky cliff and Giles skidded to a stop as soon as he rounded the corner.

Three blood soaked creatures stood over the mutilated corpse of an umber bear. They each stood six feet tall, their slouched, deformed bodies bulged with both muscle and fat. Their skin was a sickly gray and hung off their large bodies in unsightly bunches. The creature's faces were utterly hideous, a jutting brow accented beady, black eyes and far too many jagged teeth were packed into their wide maws framed by jutting tusks. What was left of their faces were covered in scars. These monsters standing over the umber bear were orcs, some of the fiercest warriors that roamed the vast wilds of Valheim.

The rest of the party raced around the corner, oblivious to the surprise guests, and stumbled into Giles almost comically. The closest and largest orc was the first to react, hefting its massive crude battle axe and charging forwards. The other orcs quickly followed suit, brandishing their cudgels. Giles bolted to the side, drawing the attention of the orcs just long enough for Douglass to recover from his shock. Douglass charged forwards, his sturdy shield leading the charge. He slammed into the side of the axe wielding monster with his full weight, but was only able to stagger the beast. Jothan quickly barked out orders "Douglass, keep that big bastard busy! Adam, take the one on the right! Giles, slow down the other one! Maric, Aaron focus on Giles target, he won't be able to hold it back forever but if you get a clear shot on the others, take it!" Adam flinched, but rushed in to do his job all the same. He was weaker than the rest, but his shield, spear, and skills still left him the best for the job. Giles groaned, but he was experienced enough with his daggers that he could hold his own. Aaron rushed to tie the horses, and the battle was in full swing.

Orcs were stupid, and the axe wielding brute was no exception. He heaved his battle axe with all his might, but was slow in the action of the swing. Douglass hid behind his shield, rushing forward to jab the the orc's chest with his spear. The orc's fur clothing was simple but tough, and the light wounds only served to further enrage the brute, who swung down his axe with ferocious abandon. Only Douglass' experience and skill saved him from the brutal blows as he dodged the brunt of the attacks, reducing them to glancing strikes against his shield. Despite his efforts, the absurd strength behind the blows made even a glancing hit difficult to receive. However he held his ground, confident in his group's ability to bring down the others and come to his aid.

Despite his moaning, Giles was excited by the intense battle. So much of his time was spent scouting and sneaking that a direct confrontation was a delightful diversion. He did not fear this orc. His trained eye assessed the beast with the aid of his insight skill, and despite its impressive strength the orc was not agile in the slightest. It was the perfect opponent for Giles, who prided himself on his speed and finesse. Jothan might underestimate him because of his age, but he was likely to be the last person in need of help. He welcomed each blow as he danced around the clumsy movements and delicately slipped his daggers between the folds of the orc's insufficient protection. Fur cloaks and loosely draped furs were decent protection when made from the hides of tough beasts, but left gaping openings that were impossible for Giles to miss. Even as he circled the engaged beast, the three archers wasted no time at all peppering its back with barbed arrows. The orc made the mistake of turning to roar at its new attackers, and Giles dashed in behind it to embed his daggers to the hilt on its neck and through its ribs. The orc's tough hide demanded a hard thrust, but the keen edges of the dagger slid effortlessly into its carotid artery and heart. The orc reeled and staggered, hands desperately grasping for Gile's neck, but as it bled out the strength had left its arms. Giles cruelly kicked its leg, toppling the warrior to the ground where it died in a pool of dark red blood.

All attention was turned to the remaining orcs, and despite his ability Douglass was hard pressed to fend off the mighty orc. The long reach of Adam's spear was plenty to ward off the cudgel wielding orc, but the battleaxe combined with heraclean strength raining down blows upon Douglass had quickly battered him down. As he recovered from a narrowly missed blow, the brute surprised him by crashing forward with its shoulder. He fell backwards, recovering as best he could with an awkward roll hampered by his shield and spear. It was all he could do to raise his shield to receive the rapidly descending axe, but there was no strength behind it. The axe blow slammed his shield down, and a sickening crunch echoed off the cliff wall, followed by screams. The axe had glanced off the shield just enough to divert it from a fatal blow, but it had instead cleaved through his spear arm, severing it just below the shoulder. Arrows slammed into the chest of the victorious orc and Giles leapt onto its back, frantically slashing at any skin he could reach around its fur mantle. The orc dropped its axe as it tried to throw Giles from its back. He stumbled around comically, completely defenseless roaring the whole time as daggers bit into gray flesh. This orcs skin was far tougher and many cuts were required to break through in any significant way. Unable to fire with Giles attached, the archers drew their short swords and advanced.

As the three archers got into position around the orc, Giles leapt from its back. The wounded brute quickly succumbed under the flurry of blows from all sides, but not before it had landed a few hard blows on Aaron, breaking his ribs. The party turned on the final orc, only to see it sprinting away with only minor wounds, running further into the gorge they stood at the mouth of. "Giles, take care of Douglass. The rest of you, with me! Don't let that bastard escape! We can't risk him getting back to his tribe!" The four men charged after him, firing arrows when they had a clear shot.