Mike retrieved both of his axes and headed back towards his unfinished project. He had planned to spend the day extracting ore and creating enough axes to ensure he didn’t have to repeat the activity for the foreseeable future, but that was before he acquired a large piece of steel. Eager to make his first steel ax, he began mentally planning the steps.

Step 1. He would need to make a bigger clay vessel so that he could Smelt steel more quickly.

Step 2. To make a larger clay jar, he would likely need both a bigger and better functioning kiln. Now that he thought about it, that should probably be the first step though.

Step 3. To make a larger kiln, he would need better clay. This would actually be Step 1.

After a few moments of planning, he was ready to go, although the list of tasks unrelated to making a new ax had grown too. He still needed to figure out how to use the spatial storage bag, read the book he took from Igor, replant some of the trees he had cut down (deforestation is always a bad thing), build some ramparts to the entrance of the valley, find a sustainable food source (for his Foraging skill and also for survival), and there was always the task of training Hardened Skin.

“At least I’ll have a new steel ax while I do all of that.” he said out loud, a cheery smile on his face. “Nothing is better than getting a new ax.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

As the sun dipped towards the western edge of the valley, Mike looked over the results of his labor. His new kiln was significantly larger than his first one, bordering on feet tall, and had fewer cracks throughout the structure, which he hoped would help it retain heat better and result in a superior product. Finding the clay had been difficult, but eventually he had found a termite nest that provided him with more than enough clay to work with. Although, it had been much harder to extract clay from a System Integrated termite nest. Each of the thousands of creatures had only 1 point in each stat, but even with those low scores, they were more ferocious than he expected. All told, it had taken him an hour to find the nest and another 2 to extract the clay safely. Those three hours represented time he could have spent training Hardened Skin and directly working on his ability to survive, so it was a bit of a gamble, but as he Analyzed the finished product, he wasn’t disappointed:

Clay Kiln

Quality: Apprentice

Durability: Medium

Rarity: Uncommon

Attributes: Earth Attunement (Middle)-medium chance to grant items fired in this kiln an earth affinity, higher chance with high Luck.

He couldn’t help feeling elated that the System had graded this kiln at Apprentice Quality, a step higher than he had ever achieved before. Along with that Quality, the new kiln had a higher chance of granting an Earth Attunement, and no longer had the Uneven Heating status, making three solid upgrades to his previous model. The kiln glowed merrily in the evening air, permeating the area in a blanket of welcome heat that made his freshly washed and still damp clothes slightly less uncomfortable in the slightly chilly May air. His latest attempt at a gallon sized jug rested inside, already half-way through its firing. It would require him to man it for a few more hours, but after that, he should be able to simply enjoy the additional heat as he drifted off to sleep.

Just outside the circle of the comforting warmth and positioned closer to the river's edge stood his two new blast furnaces. They were also larger than the his first prototype, and special care had been taken to enhance their bellows, which would be necessary to reach the higher temperatures required for extracting steel.

Between fighting Bart and his party, making a kiln, and creating two blast furnaces, his day had completely expired without him having any time to look over the loot he had taken from his fallen enemies. Picking up the spatial storage bag and the small book, and identified each in turn.

Tiny Spatial Storage Bag

Quality: Apprentice

Durability: Medium

Rarity: Rare

Description: This small bag allows the bearer to store up to 1 cubic yard of items, which the user can pull out at any time.

Elemental Bolt Book

Quality: Shoddy

Durability: Medium

Rarity: Common

Description: This book teaches the basics of shooting elemental bolts and is considered a beginning manual for all new magi.

How is it possible that I actually own a spell book? He wondered, the total absurdness of the situation breaking through the barriers that had been erected by his need to survive.

Unsure which item to test out first, and not knowing the right way to test either, he grabbed the book and began shoving the corner into the bag. In yet another physics-defying feat, the book continued sliding into the bag, well past what should have been possible, until he heard a small pop and the book disappeared altogether, causing him to stifle a surprised yelp.

After a few moments of marveling, the inevitable question formed on his lips as he stared into the bag that looked completely empty, “How do get it back out?”

Curiosity led to frustration, which eventually turned to panic, as, over the next few minutes, he tried every method he could think of to retrieve the book. But neither shaking the bag upside down, tentatively reaching his fingers inside after first fishing around with a stick, and even politely asking the bag to give the book back, had any effect. Finally he got it right, although it was completely by accident. After exhausting his options, he had given up and simply stared at the bag, willing the book to come out of it. He had been completely surprised when the corner of the book suddenly ballooned from the small opening which he had been able to grab and pull out easily. In retrospect, he felt foolish for not trying this method first, as it matched how he interacted with his Character Sheet in addition to activating Skill Abilities.

With the mystery of the bag resolved, he turned his attention to the book. Opening the first page, he squinted through the evening light and tried his best to read it. For a moment, he felt a sense of panic. The lettering seemed to shift and change as he looked at it and he soon developed a headache. Maybe he needed to build some reading glasses? The ramifications of that question were surprisingly immense. The other indications of his old age had all been resolved since the System Integration, and he had hoped that his need for reading glasses had as well, but if it hadn’t, what other ailments had he kept? Or worse yet, were his ailments returning?

Not wanting to delve further into such thought, he returned the book to the storage bag, and turned his attention to his rabbit stew, which had been simmering since just past midday and was now tender and cooked to perfection. It really was a very simple and delicious recipe, but it could definitely use some potatoes and carrots. Oh, and garlic.

At the thought of garlic, his imagination ran away from him 0and he idly imagined how he could storm the town to get the herb, as he slowly dished up his first helping.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Mike had arisen well before the sun the following morning in order to avoid using his blast furnaces in the heat of the day. After polishing off his rabbit stew from the night before, he started a small fire, which took several hours to coax to the blazing mess of coals hot enough to melt the shiny metal.

Thanks to his early start, the steel axes were already cooling in their molds by the time mid morning rolled around, at which point he gathered his axes and survival kit and set off to forage for food, both to increase the skill, as well as to add some variety to his diet.

It had become apparent that the amount of food he required to live had grown tremendously. While the majority of this change could be attributed to training Hardened Skin for hours on end, frequent battles with his life hanging in the balance, and the constant struggle associated with building a life from scratch, he felt that this need stemmed from something deeper. As if his very cells required more to perform their normal functions. He postulated that he was eating more than he had in his entire life–and that included when he and the rest of his SEAL team used to go eat 2 Whoppers and 2 Fries every Saturday afternoon back in the seventies. And while being a picky eater had never been his cross to bear, rabbit, onions, berries, and stinging nettle were getting old, and he was beginning to crave some diversity in his diet. Unfortunately, getting that diversity would require him leaving his valley, which he had already explored several times over without finding anything of note.

With increased Dexterity, Strength and Toughness, he found himself able to move at a steady, ground-eating jog almost indefinitely, and as the sun crossed the sky, he found himself increasingly distanced from the valley without any real results. He had managed to find a few herbs, but nothing that would substantially improve his diet. That changed in the afternoon when he hit the jackpot, sweet potatoes. It had been an unexpected find, as the delicious and flavorful tuber wasn’t native to Montana. Thankfully, sweet potatoes were ideal plants for the climate, being able to survive the cold winters with little problem.

Unsure how his spatial storage bag would handle the storage of living plants, he put some into the bag and hooked the rest around his waist, a sense of urgency. He would need to hurry and get them planted as soon as possible so that they didn’t die from exposure. As soon as he stood up he was greeted with skill level:

[Congratulations! You have leveled up the skill Foraging]

It was still a little irksome that the skill didn’t offer any attribute bonuses, but a lot more would need to happen to dampen his spirits after finding potatoes. The afternoon sun shone brightly as he made his back to the valley, fantasizing about the meals he would be able to make as he enjoyed the beautiful vista of rolling hills bedecked in lush, flowering plant life.

Spring is the best time to be out in nature. He thought in appreciation, enjoying every hurried step he took in his journey.

About an hour's distance from his valley, he noticed a line of dust moving through the trees directly towards him. The billowing particles brought to mind footage he had seen of stampedes in Africa. Thinking through the different animals in Montana that could potentially stampede, Mike quickly climbed into the nearest tree and concealed himself. He had no desire to test himself against System reinforced bison.

As the dust cloud approached his position, the awaited noise of hundreds of thundering bison was never heard. Rather, he heard the pitter patter of thousands of small feet. As it got closer, the almost soothing footsteps began to be punctuated with small chirrups and squeals, and despite never having heard the sounds before, he was able to detect urgent notes of distress in the chaotic chorus.

Shortly after first hearing the notes, a flood of bodies reached his hidden position, the forest beneath him teeming with hundreds of tiny green humanoids. The pitiful creatures were only around 2 feet tall and made even Mike’s cross-eyed nephew look coordinated. So speedy was their flight and so overpowering their terror, that they tripped and trampled one another with reckless abandon.

One critter in particular had caught Mike’s attention as he was pushed down three times in a row as it struggled to regain its footing. Analyzing the specimen in question, the System provided him the following info:

Name: Creealkdh

Monster Type: Hobgoblin

Level: 1

Strength: 2

Dexterity: 1

Intelligence: 2

Charisma: 1

Toughness: 1

Luck: 6

Abilities: none

Mike was flabbergasted at the abysmal stats of the poor creature, and soon found that its stats aligned with those of its brethren. Of the five he checked, none had an Attribute above 3, other than Luck, which only reinforced just how bad his own Luck was.

How is it that even these tiny beings have more Luck than I do? He silently cursed from his hidden vantage.

The stampede continued to pass beneath him, and before too long, he began to distinguish the crude laughter of humans spattered between the frightful chirping. He easily recognized the sounds of human savagery, as it sounded the exact same no matter where he was located in the world. Ten men ran behind the hobgoblins, all decked out in raw hides, voraciously laying waste to them as they fled. The small squeaks and shrills of pain made his blood boil and he went on the offensive without reflexively and without any care for his own wellbeing.

Dropping out of the tree, he landed lightly on the balls of his feet, his axes materializing from his spatial storage bag into his hands. Exploding forward, the nearest two humans failed to see him coming, and struggled to process what had happened to them. Their confused eyes stared down at their gaping wounds as the lifeforce slowly faded away and they were sent to respawn.

The next three men were aware of his presence, having seen their fellows fall, but they were only Level 3 and stood no chance of impeding the angry tornado that was Mike’s whirling form. Hitting the sword of the nearest man aside with the ax in his left hand, he quickly ducked as he sensed the next man swing at him from his rear. Pushing off his right foot, he spun and kicked the legs out of the assailant behind him, or at least he tried to, he had misjudged his new strength and heard bones crunch in what would usually have just been a leg sweep. He used his momentum to continue rotating until the ax in his right hand could hack into the calf of the other man. Now crouched between the two fallen men, his arms moved in tandem to send both of them to respawn at once. The remaining man in the group of three saw his chance and charged forward. Mike’s arm blurred as he sent Ax #1 straight into the man’s chest. Ducking the rebounding ax, Mike turned to face the remaining five men, ignoring the Level Up notification that appeared in the corner of his vision.

The five men approached him, forming a small semicircle, their confidence swelling as they took in the solitary old man with a single tomahawk facing them down.

Their confidence quickly vanished as this spector of righteous vengeance danced between them, hacking off limbs with little effort and delivering debilitating punches with his other hand. In under 2 seconds, three more of their number had been killed, prompting the last two to turn in unison and begin to make a break for it.

Lining up the moving diagonal, Mike threw his remaining ax at the target furthest out then watched impassively as it rebounded into his companion, killing both of them with a single throw.

The carnage concluded, Mike stood with heaving chest as the acute awareness of battle wore off and he slowly surveyed the scene. The bloody rage that had enthralled him faded as he took in the numerous small bodies that littered the ground, a testament to the hobgoblins' weakness and the pitiless men the System was creating. He had only ever fought in self defense, but these men killed for pleasure, and the System rewarded them for it.

How could I ever love anything that promoted this kind of violence? The unvocalized question immediately reminded him of the euphoric feeling he had when the System had rated his kiln as Apprentice Quality and he felt sick to his stomach. Is this what was to become of Earth?

With a heavy heart, he collected his axes and looted the bodies. There wasn’t much, but he was able to add 10 swords to his spatial storage bag. At the very least, they would become extra iron for some throwing knives or arrow heads.

As he turned to make his way home he discovered that a hundred of the small creatures stared at him with undeviating focus. Unsure if they were going to attack him or if they had simply lost the rest of the pack, he stared back at them with wary intensity until one hobgoblin, which stood taller than his brethren at around 30 inches, stepped out from the midst of them.

Name: Creeanth

Monster Type: Hobgoblin Tribe Leader

Level: 2

Strength: 3

Dexterity: 2

Intelligence: 3

Charisma: 1

Toughness: 2

Luck: 6

Abilities: Trilling Enthrallment–buffs allies in a 10 foot radius and causes them to converge on a single target.

The small leader made his way before Mike, while the rest of the assembly watched on in silence. Unsure at the intelligence of these small creatures, and worried they might turn hostile despite him saving them, Mike prepared for the worst.

Creeanth’s small footsteps exaggerated the distance between the two as he made his way forward and stood directly in front of Mike. Mike’s pulse quickened in anticipation of another fight, but rather than any kind of aggression, Creeanth dropped into a knightly bow of questionable sturdiness.

“Big Bossy Boss,” the high pitched voice squeaked out in solemn rapture.

As one, the other hobgoblins fell to their knees. “Big Bossy Boss,” they intoned in unison.