It came as no surprise that no single person was responsible for the noise, but instead a herd of red-headed young men and their bearded, fearless leader were to blame. Gary was shouting instructions while loudly dragging a four-seater couch along the marble flooring toward the door single handedly. Garath wondered if the lumberjack looking Armoron had invested heavily into his Strength Attribute or if he had just always been freakishly strong, neither would surprise him. The two boys that Garath recognized as Gary’s sons, Brandon and Braden, appeared to be assembling some kind of grill with bars they had ripped off of the old school desks. Two of his nephews were assisting as well, though the younger of them seemed to be quite literally just banging one metal rod against another - in Garath’s mind, for the sole purpose of pissing him off.
“Gary!” he shouted, trying to get the bearded man’s attention over the commotion. “Hey!”
“Morning, neighbor!” Gary said cheerfully, setting down the end of the couch he had been pulling from and wiping sweat from his forehead with his red and blue plaid shirt sleeve.
“What in the shit are you doing?” asked Garath with his arms held out wide.
Gary looked confused. He eyed the Necrologist, then looked down slowly at the couch he had literally just set down for the sole purpose of answering the Raid leader's question. “Moving this couch.”
"Well..." started the Necrologist, feeling like the bearded man put just a little too much sass into his seemingly innocent explanation. "I can see that you're moving the couch. I meant why is your construction crew trying to break the decibel record at shitfuck-o'clock?"
"I'm confused," said Gary, folding his muscular arms over his chest. "Are you wanting to know what we are working on, why we are working, why we start work early, or why the work is loud?"
Garath just looked at him blankly for a second, trying to restrain himself from succumbing to his anger.
‘Don't freak out, Gary is a good dude. Forgive him, G, he knows not what he's done,’ Garath thought to himself.
Finally under control he simply replied, "Nevermind, thanks for all your hard work. Aren't you short one red-headed child-laborer?" he asked, glancing around main hall.
Gary nodded. "Brock, the middle nephew," he confirmed. "He picked the Tamer Class and said that it was useless if he didn't have a pet. So, he asked if he could take the morning off to try and catch a wild animal or something. I just left my World Map up so I can keep an eye on his location. We're in a safe-zone so I really wasn't that worried about him."
"See if you can get him to catch the asshole cat running around while he's at it," said Garath. Then he turned back to the four boys clanging metal against metal. "Are they making a grill?"
“They are indeed. Been cooking fish over the fire but we have a lot of mouths to feed. It's a pretty basic design but it should be able to grill up ten or more at a time. I even got a prompt when I finished drawing the plan this morning telling me that I unlocked my first Profession.”
Garath nodded, looking impressed. "All that and it's only shitfuck-o'clock. What Profession?”
“Engineer,” Gary told him proudly. “I even got a second one when giving the boys instructions on how to build it. I am now a professed Engineer and Foreman."
“Wow,” Garath remarked, trying to repress a slight frown. He had been curious about Professions himself but had yet to unlock one, and here Gary was unlocking two before he had even crawled out of bed.
"I'll look over the new sections in my MENUs after we get breakfast going. You wanna give me a hand with this?" Gary asked, motioning to the end of the four-seater opposite of where he was standing.
Garath shrugged. "Why not?"
He walked to the couch and bent to lift his end, thinking bitterly about what a poor job he had done of chastising Gary and his boys for disturbing his slumber.
The huge couch was old and constructed with a solid oak frame but the two of them lifted it easily and carried it through the double doors of the south-side entrance. The glorious blue sky was cloudless and the tangy smell of the ocean filled the fresh morning air. Garath felt his bad mood lifting as though blown away in the summer breeze.
He inhaled deeply through his nose and was reminded of his improved sense of smell. He could now differentiate individual scent signatures and could even tell the rough location (or at least general direction) of each smell's origin. Another of the developments caused by swallowing the Dragon blood was a 300% increase to his sense of smell, a development that was definitely proving to be a double-edged sword when living in close quarters with over two-hundred people that did not have access to a working shower.
Together, Garath and Gary hefted the couch onto the asphalt that had housed the majority of their battle during The Culling. They set it down when Gary stopped in the dead center of what had once been outdoor basketball courts. Laid out next to where Gary stopped were several long, steel poles and next to them a pile of folded, white drapes. Garath wondered what the newly professed Engineer had in mind.
"Outdoor dining area," Gary explained, noticing the Necrologist's narcosis. "We have another few months of nice weather so I figured why not enjoy it a bit, you know?"
"I think I might enjoy it a bit right now," said Garath, sinking into the plush couch. "I wanted to get your input on a few things too, if you have a minute?"
Gary plopped into a seat on the other side of the long sofa and rested one steel toe booted foot on his knee. "What's on your mind?"
"I don't know if you saw that we had another group come in last night, just two of them."
Gary scratched at his beard thoughtfully. "That's right. A pair of blond sisters, wasn't it?"
"Something like that,” Garath confirmed. “I was notified that our Raid reached maximum capacity when I tried to invite them.”
“Huh,” Gary huh'd flatly, unsure if he was being asked a question.
“Indeed,” continued Garath. “My interface suggested converting the Raid into a Guild.”
"A Guild?"
"Right," Garath confirmed. He had forgotten that some terms used in most MMOs didn't translate directly and that Gary (unsurprisingly) had not been a gamer. "I know you didn't spend your time before all this playing video games, but I think we can agree that whatever caused this apocalypse has a lot in common with MMORPGs, right?" Garath asked. The blank look on Gary's bearded face told the Necrologist that he had just used another term that needed explanation. "Massively multiplayer online role playing games."
“Okay," said Gary, nodding as he worked it out in his mind. “You mean the Classes and Levels and magic and monsters and stuff?”
“Exactly.”
“Then sure,” said Gary. “I think we can agree there.”
"Okay. I don't know whether Guilds will be the same here on Earth, but in most games I've played Guilds are a way for like-minded people or people with the same goals to organize and work together. In a lot of games there are even perks for Guild accomplishments, etc."
Gary nodded. "Okay. I think I follow."
"Well, I was thinking about announcing the conversion after breakfast. I thought that might be a good time to establish a couple basic rules. A code of ethics, if you will. We haven't had any problems yet but with over two-hundred people living under one roof and more still coming, I think we'd be fools to think we won't. That's what I wanted to talk about. I don't want to play dictator or anything but you and your boys are really the only people here doing anything productive whatsoever. So, Mr. Engineering Foreman, two questions for you. One: any thoughts on general rules for everyone? Two: would you like to be in charge of putting people to work and developing BOTH HQ into a,” he paused, scratching at his mop of black hair, not certain exactly how to finish the question, “more comfortable and convenient habitat?"
Gary listened with his leg up on the couch, then took on a thoughtful expression as he slowly digested the information. Garath felt like he could see the gears turning beneath the Engineer's beard as he wai
ted for a reply.
"No," Gary finally decided.
"No?"
"No," Gary confirmed. "I've spent the last ten years supervising a team of ten to twelve guys. I don't think I'm the right guy for a couple hundred, let alone planning a community.”
“Oh,” Garath said. His surprise and disappointment must have been clearly visible because Gary quickly apologized.
“That's probably not what you wanted to hear,” he said, looking seriously at the Necrologist. “But it's the truth. I'm not the right guy for that job.”
Garath nodded in understanding.
“Maybe you can bring it up when you make your announcement,” Gary continued. “That we need someone with organizational and planning skills to take the lead on community development. I'll happily work under whoever you find to do it, provided they aren't just some dingus...."
"Alright," said Garath, smiling. The Raid leader didn't want to take the job himself, self-appointing aside, it just sounded like a lot of thinking. "That's fair. What about general rules, any thoughts?"
"That one's tough," Gary replied after scratching at his beard. "It seems simple enough to come up with some guidelines but..."
“But what about the consequences for rule breaking?” Garath interrupted. “And where is the line between reasonable expectations and...”
"Establishing something like a government?" it was Gary's turn to interrupt.
Garath nodded his agreement. “Exactly. I've been thinking about it a lot and I have some ideas, but nothing concrete. I want The Band to be a place where people can be safe and housed and fed, sure. But more than that, I want it to be a place for humanity to be able to recover and develop. It's been less than a week, so maybe I'm being insensitive and everyone just needs a little time to heal but we only have twenty-four days left until these other races are just going to move right in and who knows what that'll be like. We need to prepare for the worst. We can't afford to have so many people just freeloading and moping around.”
“We all lost loved ones,” Gary agreed with a broken look in his eyes. The bearded man forced a smile onto his face. “But you're not wrong. What are you thinking?”
“Something I learned back when I used to manage a sales department is that most people will rise or fall to meet the expectations of their leader. At the barest minimum, most of us used to get up and make it to work on time to meet the expectations of keeping our jobs. It was necessary to pay bills and buy food and whatever but it isn't anymore. The way I see it, we have two choices. We can let our grief and melancholy indifference cripple us and waste the time we have left wallowing in self-pity or we can be the ones to pave the way for humanity to rebuild. Anything in between will just leave us at the mercy of the races arriving in a few weeks.”
Gary was leaning back into the couch with his arms folded and legs stretched out with his feet crossed at the ankle, smiling and listening to Garath's unplanned soapbox rant. He lifted one eyebrow, nodding approvingly.
“If I can make a suggestion?” the bearded man asked.
“Obviously.”
“Write down everything you just said and use that to open your announcement. That was pure gold, friend,” said Gary. The Engineer even clapped his hands together a few times in applause. “Then follow that up with benefits and expectations to join the Guild. As our Raid leader, your authority didn’t mean anything. As a Guild leader, you would have to invite members. Right?”
“Right.”
“Well then, the expectations you set for us will shape the community, Garath. Just like you said, people will rise or fall to the expectations of their leaders. Just something to keep in mind. With each person doing their part, I'm sure we can make those rations you and Athios brought back last a hell of a lot longer - those were a godsend, by the way. Not much in the way of flavor but they'll keep us going. Did you get a count on how many there were?"
"We brought back something like a hundred and forty cases, twelve meals each. So what's that, like..." Garath paused to calculate. "About sixteen hundred-ish?"
"Good haul."
"Definitely. What about rules of conduct? How far do we need to take that? Like, do I even need to mention that killing people will be frowned upon? Or stealing even?"
“About that," Gary replied. "In regards to rules, can I suggest we call them expectations instead of rules? I don't like the idea of establishing rules but I think everyone would agree that it's fair enough to have expectations in exchange for a safe place to live. What if we just have a defined amount of time each person is expected to contribute?"
"Then whoever we get to plan the development can allocate that time?" Garath asked, nodding along.
"Exactly."
"I think that's a great idea. For today I'll just let everyone know we're working on some guidelines and ask them to let me know if they have suggestions. Then we can hammer this all out do another announcement when we've had a little more time to think this through. Whatcha think?"
"You sure you want to open that particular can of worms?" Gary asked with one eyebrow raised. He stretched his arms expansively, yawning.
"Dad, I think we're ready to start grilling. You wanna come take a look before Daisy gets the fire going?" shouted Brandon, hanging out of the open double doors.
"I'll be right there," Gary called back, then turned to face Garath again. "Duty calls."
"Get at it man, good talk. Thanks for taking the time," said Garath, saluting the furry faced Foreman from the couch.
Gary nodded, turned, and walked back to the building. Garath sat there on the couch, comfortably enjoying the morning breeze and soaking in the golden sunlight while trying not to worry too much about the fact that one child was inside of BOTH HQ telling another child to start a fire on purpose. The warmth and the beautiful silence on the plushy couch lulled the Necrologist into a deeply relaxed state and, only minutes after Gary had gone to check on the grill, Garath was happily recovering any sleep he may have missed out on that morning.
Chapter 27
The Murder of Dave
Garath woke up with a startled jump ninety-five blissful minutes later when Sharon dropped an unopened food ration onto his lap. Sharon laughed merrily at his surprise and Garath noticed, once again, how much she had changed. Not only in body as he had assumed at first, her demeanor may still be accusatory and her personality taciturn, but she looked genuinely alive and loving every second of it. Garath was glad that at least one truly joyful thing had come out of this new apocalyptic Earth, and that joyful thing took a seat next to him on the long plush couch. The Necrologist and the Naturist were joined shortly by Athios and Warrion to discuss the day's plan of attack. They were discussing the travel distance when one of Gary's nephews - the one who had been absent at that morning's noise making competition - distracted Garath mid-sentence.
"Well it's only about ten miles, as the crow flies..." he was saying when the boy walked past the (in progress) outdoor dining area with a crow perched on his shoulder. Garath's face went completely giddy. "You guys, I just got a wicked idea."
Garath called the young man over and congratulated him on acquiring his first animal companion. Brock was absolutely beaming in pride when he told them that he had named the crow on his shoulder Dave. When Garath explained to the boy that he wanted to see if Dave could help him unlock a new BeastScape form, Brock held his arm out toward the Necrologist and Dave hopped his way onto Brock's forearm.
"Here goes nothing," proclaimed Garath as he attempted to make the transformation.
Just like when he had made his first shift into cat form, a strange intensity filled the empty air between Garath and the crow as they locked eyes. Dave held Garath's gaze and the Necrologist felt the same odd sensation at the back of his mind that he had when staring into Tarzan's eyes in the bedroom of his apartment, a kind of click as the dots connected in his subconscious mind. A new prompt appeared in his mind's eye.
Congratulations Garath! You have unlocked a new BeastSc
ape form - Crow.
Crow
+100% sense of smell
+100% sense of hearing
+250% visual perception
Size: Tiny (+150% to all damage received in this form)
Note: You have unlocked a BeastScape form that is synergistic with your chosen Class. Harbingers of death, a Necrologist in Crow form gains +15% damage to all Death magic spells.
"Learned it!" he announced proudly. ‘Next up, test it,’ he thought to himself.
With that, Garath pulled in his will and focused his mind to the prickling sensation that always started in the back of his neck when shifting forms. The image of a crow grew in his mind as the prickling spread from his neck to his back and then through his arms to his finger tips. A full body of shiny black feathers erupted from his skin at once and he could feel his arms elongate as his fingers gave way to feathers.
When the change was complete, Garath felt wrong somehow. Like he was playing a PC game with an N64 controller - very unlike his cat form, which he had shifted in and out of liberally since acquiring the ability. Like cat form though, the body of a crow came with the instinctual knowledge to control its functions - the basic ones at the very least, breathing and general movement. The knowledge to do something and actually doing it proved to be quite different as he stood there with his four claw-like toes on the asphalt below each scrawny black leg.
"Caw!" Dave cawed at Garath from Brock’s shoulder. Loosely translated, it still was just a caw.
"Totally," Brock agreed, laughing. The young boy and the crow on his arm looked at one another and Dave cawed again. They seemed to understand one another, even if nobody else could translate Dave's caws.
The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 23