by Dan Thomas
The dino reared back, its muscular arms reaching out for Max. With his pole raised, he sidestepped the dinosaur, bringing the wooden stick swinging down low to smack into the beast’s hind legs.
The raptor faltered, lifting its leg off the ground as pain radiated up its legs. The small dinos, sensing weakness, swarmed over the larger dinosaur. At least they swarmed as much as six small Coelophysis could, lunging at it and biting down, a few clawing their way up its thick legs.
There was no chance of them killing the predator, but they tipped the balance of the battle. The raptor shook them off, much like a dog shakes water from its coat, sending them flying into the jungle in all directions. Free of the small biting dinosaurs, the raptor turned and ran back the way it had come until it disappeared from view.
“If he were a dog, he’d have his tail between his legs,” Max said, but he was alone except for the small group of dinosaurs rushing around in the undergrowth. “And you guys are like headless chickens.”
The Coelophysis simply looked up at him with their beady eyes. Giving a command to follow, Max turned around and walked back toward Chopsticks’ hidden nursery. The little dinos trailed behind him, darting in and out of the undergrowth, but never straying more than three or four feet away.
“There you are!” Chopsticks was hovering on the edge of the clearing as Max came into view. He quickly moved the shrubbery gate out of the way and counted up the small dinos as they ran in, chattering excitedly. Happy to be home.
“Did we lose any?” Max asked, mentally counting the dinos already safely in the enclosure.
“No.” Chopsticks sighed. “That was close, though.”
“At least we got through it.” Max glanced up at the sky. “We need to get back. Let’s feed these guys and then take the meat back to camp.”
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Chopsticks was pleading like a kid at the fair begging for one last ride on the bumper cars. “I haven’t shown you all around their lair yet.”
“No, we need to go unless you want to explain all this to Pez and Ticket.” Max gave Chopsticks the look, the same look a parent gives a child.
“I suppose.” Chopsticks’ shoulders dropped. “I’ll get them all back inside and feed them.”
Max gave up the mental command of his portion of the dino herd and they immediately ran toward Chopsticks who was heading toward the hollowed-out tree. One by one, they went inside, and Chopsticks followed.
“I’m surprised you haven’t moved your bed in there with them.” Max leaned against a trunk.
“If I didn’t think the others would ask where I was going, I would.” Chopsticks popped his head out of the lair and then the rest of his body followed. “Come on, let’s go take this meat back to base.”
Max followed Chopsticks back to where they’d left their dinosaur. “He’s still here.”
“Of course he is. Taz would never wander off.” Chopsticks patted the large dinosaur on the shoulder.
“I was more concerned that our run of bad luck with the Ravagers might have continued and they had taken him.” Max would not have enjoyed explaining that to Ticket and Pez.
“If this plan works, we won’t have to worry about those guys for much longer.” Chopsticks climbed onto Taz’s back and set off toward base with Max jogging by his side. “What worries me is if it doesn’t work.”
Max looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. “Which part worries you?”
“The part where they find out who you really are and where you came from and what you intended to do.” Chopsticks placed his hand on Taz’s shoulder. “We’re after revenge. Do you see them acting any differently if we don’t completely annihilate them?”
“Nope, which is why they won’t find out who I am.” Max had given that some thought, too.
“You sound confident.” Chopsticks looked to Max for answers, but Max had none to give. Not yet.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Did you get lost?” Pez called from farther along the wall. He was in a salty mood as Max and Chopsticks closed the gate behind Taz.
“No, we decided to do some extra training on the way back,” Max shouted back as they led Taz toward the wood and thatch hut where they housed their drying racks.
Pez jogged toward them, leaving his buckets of mortar and stacks of stones next to part of the wooden wall. He had taken down the reinforcements holding a couple of the upright logs in place and had a half-built area of stone wall.
“Yeah, Ticket thinks Murf is her little pet project, but he needs to learn from all of us. We all do things differently and we all have our own strengths.” Chopsticks sounded as if he’d been rehearsing that little speech.
Pez arched an eyebrow as he glanced from Max to Chopsticks and back again. “Is that right?”
“Yep,” Max opened the door to the drying hut. “Chopsticks has been helping Murf here with some more tracking and foraging.”
Chopsticks tapped the side of his head. “I’m the one with the brains.”
“Since when?”
They all turned around to see Ticket closing the gates behind her.
“Since we first settled in Primeva.” Chopsticks turned back to Taz, opening the side of the wooden crate and pulling out a chunk of meat. “We all have our own strengths and mine is my affinity with the dinos.”
“Yeah, you are a proper Dr. Doolittle,” Pez scoffed.
“I am.” Chopsticks, for once, decided not to run Pez up the wrong way. “Just as you are the best at base building and thinking with a clear head, and Ticket is best at setting out an excruciatingly tight schedule to teach Murf everything he needs to learn.” He passed the meat to Max, who tossed it into another crate inside the airy hut, ready to be cut into smaller pieces and strung up on the drying racks.
“And what do I bring to the table?” Max asked in interest.
“Not a lot, right now,” Chopsticks passed him another cut of dino meat. “You’re pretty much dead weight.”
“But who does this whole thing ride on?” Max asked, pointing at himself with his free arm before throwing the cut of meat into the crate.
“Okay, since I’m in charge of the base right now, it’s time you all put the training to one side and help me make sure that if for whatever reason the Ravagers bring the battle to us, we’re going to be prepared and the base is prepared,” Pez spoke with authority while Ticket and Max gave Chopsticks a sharp reproving look.
“What do you need?” Chopsticks asked brightly. “And I have some ideas of my own.”
Pez narrowed his eyes, sensing he’d walked into a net of vines that Chopsticks had laid out for him. “What ideas? Because I’ve spent a long time thinking about the defenses we need for the base.”
“Exactly.” Chopsticks clapped his hands together in excitement. “But what about protection for the dinosaurs?”
“They have thick scaly hides and a lot of them have thick bony frills around their heads. They are built to fight each other; I don’t think there is anything the Ravagers could throw at us that they wouldn’t face in the wild.” Pez sensed he was outnumbered in his views as he looked at the Crew’s faces, “But I guess it wouldn’t necessarily protect them from arrows and bullets, which they wouldn’t be as likely to come across in the wild.”
“And I also have an idea.” Ticket dug into her pack and pulled out a large leather pouch. “I thought it would be good to have a battering ram so when we take their base, we can knock down their gates. Or walls. I’m not bothered which, as long as we obliterate those sons of bitches.” She plucked a pinch of white chalky powder from the pouch.
“You found flux?” Max asked. flux was a resource needed to refine and work with metal. Without it, heating even refined iron enough to work with it would simply return it to an ore-like state. The fact that flux was so rare on Primeva made metal tools coveted and expensive in the primitive world.
Chopsticks chuckled at Ticket. “Maybe we could fit the battering ram to one of the dinos.”
“I was thinking of a Triceratops!” Ticket’s face flushed with enthusiasm. “Well, probably not a Triceratops, but something similar, seems we’re still not up for Tier-four dinos.”
“Okay. And there was I thinking you guys were too busy training Murf to bother about the battle that lay ahead on the other side of his training.” Pez put his hands on his hips. “I was wrong.”
“So, the dino armor and the dino battering ram are a go?” Chopsticks asked hopefully as if Pez would be able to stop them from making anything they wanted to.
“Yes. Let’s get started,” Pez said. “Chopsticks, why don’t you work on the armor with Max while Ticket and I draw up plans for the battering ram.”
“Yep, fine with me.” Chopsticks punched Murf in the arm.
“Ouch.” Max rubbed his arm as he took a hit to his life points.
“Did that seriously do some damage?” Chopsticks asked, impressed with his strength.
“Of course it did. Murf is still nowhere near as strong as the rest of you,” Max complained.
“It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to be as strong,” Ticket called over to Max. “He just needs to be strong enough.”
“With a ‘Unique Selling Point,’” Max added. “I just don’t see them letting me in if there’s nothing special about me.”
“Everyone’s special in their own unique way,” Pez mocked.
“We’ll think of something,” Ticket assured him.
“I can see it now; all you have to do is ride in on a fully armored dino and they’d let you in.” Chopsticks gazed out into the jungle enigmatically. “After watching a tournament a few years ago, I’ve always wanted dino armor. More importantly, I wanted to be a knight riding something wearing dino armor.”
“Do you ever listen to yourself talking?” Pez asked.
“Yep, all the time. I sometimes even record myself just so I can listen to myself talk all over again.” Chopsticks grinned as Pez shook his head.
“Let’s just get the work done.” Pez turned away. “I’d love to see the Ravagers’ faces when we take out the front door with a dino battering ram.”
“It’ll smash their defenses to pieces!” Ticket smashed her fist into the palm of her hand. “Come on, let’s go see what wood we’ve got for it.” She tossed the pouch of flux to Chopsticks before heading toward the Storehouse, Pez in tow.
“It’s good to see we’re all on the same wavelength at last,” Max mused as he and Chopsticks lifted out a Stego leg and hauled it between them into the drying area.
“Yeah, all it takes is a common enemy,” Chopsticks said as they dropped the leg into the crate. “At least the whole Jag thing seems to be forgotten.”
“Yeah.” Max walked back and grabbed an armful of horns. “His base was crazy.”
“And what’s wrong with our base?” Chopsticks asked as he followed Max inside again, this time with the backplates of the Stego.
“Nothing. I love our base; you know I do. Why else would I be fighting so hard for it?” Max asked.
“And then there’s the box Jag asked you to bring back. I’m sure we’d all like to know what’s in that.” Chopsticks stopped for a moment and turned to face Max. “All except Pez, since you still haven’t told him.”
“No,” Max said shortly. “So, dinosaur armor.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be so cool.” Chopsticks closed the door. “We’ll leave this for later, the meat’s not going to go bad that fast and we can smoke it once it’s finished. Come on, let’s go make some dino armor. Damn, that sounds cool.” Chopsticks left Taz munching on weeds as they headed for the forge. The box, Jag, and Pez were forgotten.
Chopsticks led the way into the squat stone building that housed their forging equipment. Max followed him into the cool building, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. There was enough room for the two of them to work around each other, but the square space would be crowded with anyone else inside.
Max ran his hand over the dented surface of the small anvil, wiping off the dust and metal scale that hadn’t been brushed away from the last time it had been used.
“Do you think we have enough metal and flux to make armor big enough for one of the dinos?” Max asked.
“If we’re careful,” Chopsticks replied as he shoveled charcoal out of a crate and into the waist-high stone basin that they used as the actual forge. The wall behind the forge had been extended over the top of it to accommodate a chimney. “But it all depends on what dino we want to armor up.”
Max stepped away from the anvil and leaned against the small wooden workbench along the back wall, the wood covered in scars and scorch marks. “We’ll have a look at how much metal we’ve got.”
“We’ve got enough metal.” Chopsticks took out his flint and steel, showering sparks onto a tinder bundle he had placed on top of the charcoal he’d piled into the forge. “Pez refined a load a few weeks ago, so it’s not an issue. The bottleneck is that the only flux we have is what Ticket’s just brought in for us. This pouch isn’t going to get us that far.”
White smoke began to rise out of the forge and drift up the chimney as the charcoal began to ignite.
Max pushed off the workbench and joined Chopsticks around the forge. “So, what are you thinking?” He placed his hands on the wooden rod that stuck up out of their blower—a clay dome with the top missing. Inside was a piece of bark that was attached to the wooden rod, which could be spun to force air down the clay pipe that led into the heart of the forge.
“At first, I thought it would be super cool to make armor for the Deinonychus and have two or three of our raptors running around in full plate armor.” Chopsticks shoveled another load of charcoal on top of the flames that grew with every turn of the blower that Max made. “But then I thought about it some more. The raptors rely on speed and agility—armor’s just going to slow them down. So, Max, what dinos do we have that use raw power over speed?”
Max paused spinning the rod on the blower. “You’re thinking of Abe and Lis?”
“Bingo.” Chopsticks grabbed a pair of tongs and a large blacksmith’s hammer, that had one wide face and one narrow face, from where they were hanging on the wall next to the forge. “But just Abe. We don’t have enough metal, let alone flux to make armor to fully cover either of them. Now, Lis is the bigger of the two, and she’s a lot tougher naturally. We’ll be able to cover more of Abe, and if we make enough armor to cover his vulnerable parts, it might just give him an edge over the Ravagers if they pull any big dinos like that Majungatholus out of their sleeve.”
“You think they’ll have another Majungatholus?” Max began spinning the blower again, sparks streaming into the air from the charcoal.
“I think we’d be stupid not to think they do,” Chopsticks placed the tools onto the anvil. “And they won’t make the same mistake they did before. At the mine, they got cocky and put themselves in a position where we had the advantage. If we raid their base, they’ll have more space to move around, not to mention all the other players they have in their Crew and dinos they’ve got stashed there. We need to make sure that both Abe and Lis are able to tango one-on-one with a dino like that. They’re all Tier-three dinos, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a level playing field. The thing mostly in our favor will be surprise, they won’t have time to get all their animals prepared for battle.”
Max stopped to look at his friend. “When did you become a master tactician?”
“I’ve read Sun Tzu once.” Chopsticks waved his hand. “Right, I’m going to run Taz over to the vault and bring back a load of iron and copper. While I’d like to make the whole thing out of iron, it takes longer and is more expensive to work with, so we’ll have to make the important parts from iron, and the rest with copper to make the flux last as long as possible.”
“And what do you want me to do?” Max asked. “I don’t think my basic crafting Traits are going to cut it here. I could quickly log back into Holic.”
Chopsticks shook his head. “You’d have to run all the way back from the mine. I know you’re usually the chief crafter here, but I’m sure I’ll manage under your supervision while you do all the grunt work for me.” Chopsticks flashed a wink. “I’ll be back in a minute, just keep the forge hot.”
Before Max could say anything else, Chopsticks ducked out of the door. He sighed and turned back to fanning the growing flames. He was really going to miss out on crafting one of their more ambitious projects yet. Max smiled, he guessed he could reconcile with giving his friend the limelight.
With Max manning the blower, the forge was spewing out sparks and glaring a bright red by the time that Chopsticks returned with a thick leather bag in each hand that he dropped inside the door with a heavy metallic thud.
“I’ve got more outside.” Chopsticks disappeared through the door again.
Max left the forge blower and moved around the anvil to the door. He bent down and went to pick up one of the bags, nearly wrenching his arm out of his socket as he tried to lift the heavy bag of metal.
“Struggling there?” Chopsticks chuckled as he stepped through the doorway with another bag in one hand, and a roll of cured hide under his other arm.
“It turns out that there’s a reason to build up strength.” Max straightened up and took the leather from Chopsticks, placing it onto the workbench.
“Huh, who’d have thought?” Chopsticks shifted all three bags toward the burning forge, opening them all up. “We’ve got two packs of copper, and one of iron, I think it should be enough.”
Max frowned. “Isn’t that almost all of our metal?”
Chopsticks held up a hand. “All right, I hope this will be enough. And it’s too bad if the other two wanted to put any metalwork on their battering ram.”
“We better make this worthwhile then.” Max chuckled. “What’s the plan?”
“Okay, so seems that Murf doesn’t have the aptitude for metalwork or the Stamina for the heavy lifting, you’ve got the job of cutting the straps.”
“I figured that would be the case.” Max looked at the hot forge and sighed, it had been a while since they’d fired it up and he’d had a chance to do blacksmithing. “You said you wanted to only protect certain parts of Abe. Do you have a design in mind?”