Devon whirled on Greel, weapon raised. “Traitor. You could’ve stopped him.”
Greel raised one hand and crouched to deposit the fang on the ground. He backed away slowly.
“There’s your proof that I mean you no harm. Disarmed, I can’t beat you.”
He licked his lips. Devon advanced a step. She didn’t lower her blade.
“I was afraid I’d nick you if I tried to take him down. You saw what happened…” He gestured at the unconscious man. “As a crude weapon, the fang is beyond my Piercing skill level. The injury that man took wasn’t what I intended. More a lucky fumble than anything.”
Devon swiped the fang from the ground. She rotated her grip on it in her off-hand. It did feel awkward, like it wanted to slip out of her palm. She couldn’t envision attacking with it like she could her machete. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe not. Eyes narrowed, she shoved the item into her bag.
“And you couldn’t just knock him aside?”
“It was a split-second decision,” he said.
Devon took a few deep breaths while she considered his claim. There might be truth to it. Even now, she could see the white of bone where the man’s flesh had melted away. If she’d accidentally caused that kind of damage, she might have hesitated to get into the thick of melee with an ally involved.
“I’ll give you a chance, this time,” she said.
She crouched beside the slain man and plucked at his clothing to activate the looting process. He decomposed into a set of items.
You have received: Paper with Scrawled Orders
You have received: Map
It was too dark to examine the paper and map, so she tucked them into her bag. Scooping up a handful of coins, she watched as her inventory gained 3 silver and 2 gold pieces. Devon stalked to the other man. He was starting to stir.
“Have anything to bind him with?”
Greel turned out his pockets but then hurried over and crouched beside the man. He dragged a couple pieces of rope from the thug’s pocket. “Seems they were prepared to take a captive. Not sure if these were meant for me or you.”
Devon snatched them away and bound the man’s wrists tightly. This close, the wound looked even worse. When she checked the man’s health bar, she noticed it was falling very slowly. Some sort of poison?
She hobbled his ankles, securing each tightly and then stringing around a foot of rope between them so that he could walk, but not quickly. Finally, she pulled the gleaming metal off his fingers.
You have received: Brass Knuckles
A decent weapon if you’re into brawling.
4–9 damage | 12/13 durability
Now that the captive was secure and disarmed, she pulled up the combat log and checked her messages.
You have slain a Hired Thug. Experience gain reduced due to powerful assistance.
You have gained a special attribute point: +1 Cunning.
You have gained mastery in Shadow Puppet – Tier 1: 10%.
You have gained mastery in Incapacitate – Tier 1: 15%.
You have gained esteem with Greel: +150 reputation.
What? The game considered Greel to be powerful assistance? A kill stealing lawyer… so lame! She pulled up her experience bar and saw she still wasn’t level 6, but even with the reduction, she was close. Finally.
At least the message about her reputation gain with Greel was promising. Maybe she’d be able to trust him eventually.
Devon stared down at their captive. “So, where do we go from here, Greel?”
“For now, we should get back to camp. We have some time before these men are assumed missing. I suggest we use it to prepare for retaliation.”
Chapter Twenty-One
DAWN BROKE OVER the encampment as Devon, Greel, and their captive entered the cleared area. The fire from the previous evening had died to low coals, and a tendril of smoke curled into the still air. Devon shaded her eyes and peered toward the new platforms. She smiled to see that her followers had moved Hezbek’s hut up top. Seemed the woman was something of a grandmotherly figure to everyone in the tribe.
The others had slept crowded together on the first platform, possibly for warmth, maybe because they felt vulnerable without huts to protect them. In any case, the sound of footsteps brought some of them awake. The hunter, Grey, sat up, as did Bayle, Devon’s fighter. She waved at them in greeting.
The captive staggered forward into the weak light. Scars crossed the man’s stubble-covered cheeks, and his face had the hard look of a veteran combatant. But the wound on his arm was taking its toll. His health had fallen to 20%, and his eyes were glassy. No doubt he’d only kept marching because he knew he needed to reach a healer to survive the day. Their early progress had been so slow that she’d been forced to untie his hobbles. But he seemed to know the score and hadn’t attempted to flee.
Greel cast the man another hate-filled glare. The lawyer had argued against bringing the man back. He was adamant the thug would give no useful information.
To which Devon had responded: “But you will, right?”
That had shut Greel up; the return march had been a largely silent one.
Without warning, the captive collapsed into the dirt. A pointed look at Greel set his eyes rolling. “Yes, fine, I’ll go get Hezbek.”
Despite the complaint, he left quickly and scampered up the rope ladder. While waiting, Devon pulled out the Paper with Scrawled Orders she’d looted. Fortunately, it was written in a language she understood.
We’ve had disappointing progress reports from our jungle contingent. Travel to Uruquat’s Camp and discover the problem. Motivate as necessary. The remaining areas must be searched. Tell the ogre and his eel of an advisor they have twenty days to show results. You are to remain in the area until the time has expired or positive progress has been made.
Devon’s shoulders relaxed as she folded the note and tucked it away. Greel’s pronouncement about retaliation had put her on edge. Judging by the note, she had at least a little while before the thugs would be noticed as missing. That should give her time to figure out defenses.
She hoped.
As she laid fingers on the map, Hezbek arrived and fell to a crouch beside the wounded man. Devon withdrew her hand from her bag.
She stood silently while the medicine woman assessed the gruesome gash on the man’s arm. Hezbek was careful not to touch the wound. After a moment, she sat back on her heels and sighed.
“Well?” Devon asked.
“I haven’t seen anything like this before. I’m not sure how to treat it.”
“You can try something, though, right?”
Hezbek nodded. “It behaves a bit like a poison. I’ll try an antidote while getting his health back up with a potion. That should stabilize him for a while.”
“Good enough. We don’t really want a full cure right now anyway.” She leaned over the captive and spoke loudly. “I haven’t yet decided your fate. As things stand, you’re a burden. We’ll have to feed you and pour potions down your throat just to keep you from dying. But I certainly can’t free you. So I sincerely suggest that you make yourself useful.”
The man seemed too dazed to respond.
“Let’s get him to the shade,” she said. She summoned a worker and asked him to help Hezbek with the man. As they moved off, she gestured to Greel, who had started edging toward his tent. She pulled out the orders and the map and held them up.
“Explain.”
He gestured to a pair of stumps. “It’s been a long night. Can we sit?”
Once they were comfortable, she unfolded the orders. As he read, she watched his face. Nothing in the letter seemed to surprise him.
“I assume you intend to enlighten me.”
Greel smoothed his hair and sighed. “As long as you understand that I’ve pieced this together myself. Officially, our task was to map and explore the area, paying particular note to ruins outside the borders of ancient Ishildar.
We were to be rewarded with coin and territory, though not necessarily this territory. All this nonsense about founding a kingdom was Uruquat’s personal interpretation.”
“And the motive of those who sent you?”
“In the distant past, a relic called the Greenscale Pendant was held by the Khevshir vassaldom which bordered Ishildar to the south and east.” He raised his eyebrows as if wondering whether she drew the connection. She glanced at the sun and quickly judged that, indeed, they were somewhere southeast of the overgrown ruins. She nodded, and he went on. “Their possession of the pendant was clearly documented, and no record has ever been found of it surfacing elsewhere. Therefore, we can assume that it disappeared somewhere in this region.”
“I suppose that’s logical,” she said.
“This, of course, all happened before the Curse of Fecundity befell the area and caused the jungle to grow over everything. No doubt the search would be much easier otherwise.”
“This Greenscale Pendant is one of the five relics that prove dominion over Ishildar, I assume?”
He nodded. “The communities depending on Ishildar were divided into five vassaldoms, each of which was given possession of a relic. Every ruler of Ishildar had to arrange a succession that was agreeable to all five. Following the ruler’s death, the heir was temporarily given the relics to transfer ownership.”
“I gather something went wrong.”
Greel shrugged. “We don’t know what caused the process to fail. But somehow, Ishildar was left without leadership. Eventually, without the city to sustain them, the vassal societies migrated or died out.”
“Is this Curse of Fecundity related?” Devon asked. Recovering these relics was starting to sound very interesting. And increasingly possible.
“I don’t know. So much has been lost. But, I can say that the legal document specified that the city must not be inhabited if no acceptable heir was found. There is a particular feature of Carpavan Legalese that allows contracts to be magically binding. I suppose the curse could be the agreement’s way of enforcing the stipulations.”
Devon laid a hand over her forehead. Magically enforced legal contracts? Emerson’s AI had interesting ideas. She stared at Greel, and an inspection window popped up. Despite the 150 reputation she’d gained with him, he still viewed her with below neutral esteem. He might be lying, but the truth probably benefited him here. And anyway, it was an elaborate lie if he was making this up.
She nodded a dismissal to the lawyer, who stiffly headed for his hut. Once he’d ducked inside, she unrolled the map. As she studied the markings, the image floated off the paper and settled into a new window in the interface.
Finally, a proper in-game map. That would be convenient. Rather than peering down at the paper, she tucked it away and instead inspected the interface element. Not only were the notations and markings from the paper map displayed, but also, a small section of Ishildar had been uncovered. Devon smirked as she traced the route she’d followed while fleeing the Stone Guardian. The memory brought up another question. How, exactly, had the medicine woman pulled her from beneath the nose of a massive golem?
In any case, a few markings on the map seemed promising. One location listed an “Archway leading below ground, collapsed,” while another mentioned “Overgrown ruins (unexplored).” If what Greel had said about the relic was true, those areas seemed like good places to start looking for it.
Aside from the adventuring areas, she noticed a map section marked with “Limestone, (potential quarry?)” as well as an “Ironwood grove.” Both those locations would help with settlement resources. Ironwood wasn’t as strong as steel, but it was the next best thing. A skilled woodworker could often craft high-quality ironwood weapons more easily than a blacksmith could learn to forge and temper steel. Her little section of jungle was looking more promising.
Devon glanced at her fatigue bar. Barely half full. She stood and stretched. Time to get serious about assigning professions and finding a permanent home for her tribe.
Chapter Twenty-Two
AFTER DROPPING HER looted Sabertooth Steaks into the tribe’s food bin and handing Gerrald the stack of Sabertooth Scales—he assured her he’d find a use for them—Devon pulled up the settlement interface.
Settlement: Uruquat’s Camp
Size: Encampment
Tier 1 Buildings (16/20):
11 x Standard Hut
5 x Raised Platform
Tier 2 Buildings (2/2):
1 x Leader’s Abode
1 x Medicine Woman’s Hut
Population:
Base Morale: 52%
6 x Worker (unspecialized)
1 x Hunter - Grey
1 x Leatherworker - Gerrald
1 x Carpenter - Prester
1 x Fighter - Bayle
1 x Cook - Tom
1 x Medicine Woman - Hezbek (advanced)
1 x Lawyer - Greel (advanced)
Morale had gone up some, and the platforms now appeared on the list of buildings. She flipped over to another tab that she hadn’t noticed before.
Requirements for expansion to Village:
- Advanced NPC: 2/2
- Tier 2 Buildings: 2/2
- Population: 13/20
Well, that sucked in a couple ways. The settlement was already at its cap of Advanced NPCs and Tier 2 buildings but needed seven more members to advance. Seeing as they were in the middle of an unpopulated jungle, that was going to be a problem.
At the very least, she could replace the Leader’s Abode with a building that was actually useful, especially since she was still sleeping on Hezbek’s floor. She focused on the line item for Buildings (Tier 2), and a new interface appeared showing available options.
Tier 2 Buildings:
- Crafting workshop:
A utilitarian building usable by many crafting professions.
Bonus to: Weaving, Woodworking, Leatherworking, Tailoring, Stone Carving (small).
Requires: Carpentry (Tier 3), 50 x Wood Plank, 6 x Wood Beam
- Forge (basic):
A forge capable of working basic metals.
Required for: Blacksmithing
Requires: Stonemasonry (Tier 2), 60 x Stone Block, 10 x Bucket of Mortar
- Smokehouse:
Preserves raw meat, fruits, and vegetables at many times the rate of a standard campfire. Does not require a specialized worker to operate.
Can process: 40 units of meat, fruit, vegetables, or medicinal herbs per day.
Requires: Stonemasonry (Tier 2), Carpentry (Tier 3), 10 x Stone Block, 2 x Bucket of Mortar, 20 x Wood Plank, 4 x Wood Beam
- Barracks
Sleeping quarters for fighters, increases squad cooperation. Sleeps 6.
Requires: Carpentry (Tier 4), 70 x Wood Plank, 6 x Wood Beam
- Kitchen
Every campfire chef’s dream.
Bonus to: Recipe discovery (x3), Tier 2+ recipe output (x2)
Requires: Stonemasonry (Tier 2), Carpentry (Tier 3), 10 x Stone Block, 2 x Bucket of Mortar, 60 x Wood Plank, 6 x Wood Beam
Devon tapped a finger on her chin. It made sense that the blacksmith profession couldn’t work in the crafting workshop because of the risk of fire. And for most of the buildings, she’d need a stonemason. That area of limestone on the map was looking more important. But for now, she looked again at the requirements for the crafting workshop. It seemed the most useful building for their situation.
The workshop would be their next tier 2 building. But first, Prester would have to reach the next skill tier. Ideally, he’d be there by the time they settled in their final location.
She spotted Greel out of the corner of her eye. The man stalked across the camp and slipped into his tent. She strolled over and rustled the door flap.
“Greel?”
“For Veia’s sake, what?” he snarled.
“Just a couple quick questions. First, can I borrow some paper and ink?”
The lawyer shoved the items out the door flap without opening it.
“Thanks, I think.”
“If it gives you something to do besides bothering me, I’m happy to share.”
She rolled her eyes. “Would you mind stepping outside so we can talk? Given the note that thug was carrying, I assume your boss knows where the encampment is.”
With a heavy sigh, the lawyer stomped back out of his hut. He pulled up a stump but didn’t offer her one. She ignored the snub and crossed her arms over her chest.
“So?” she asked.
“My boss, as you call him even though I told you I work for myself, is named Henrik. He’s an Eltera City councilman with designs on usurping the governorship of the Western Reaches. After which he plans to install his own regime, of course. That’s why his lackeys are so loyal. They expect positions of power after the coup.”
“And the Western Reaches includes this area?”
Greel looked at her as if she were the stupidest creature to crawl the earth, but after a moment the expression faded. “Right. Forgot you were starborn. I don’t see why you lot are considered so special when you’re as ignorant as a bunch of toddlers. Anyway, yes, the Reaches include this basin, the range of peaks you can see to the north, and the hill country surrounding Eltera City. Most of the population lives in the city and hills, obviously, which makes Eltera the regional hub. But if Ishildar could be reclaimed and the Curse of Fecundity lifted… It’s not only geography and coast access that makes the location so desirable. Long ago, Ishildar commanded the Reaches because of the magical and martial power its residents gained.”
Temple of Sorrow: A LitRPG and GameLit Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 1) Page 14