“What about your living quarters?” Hana was barely containing her rage. “Surely you do not plan on living out under the stars?”
Bretta pointed at me, “that will be his job. He will build us a place to shelter, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. He is more than capable…I assure you.” How she stated those last three words was like the challenge of the century, as if she dared Hana to question her knowledge. Strangely, the Mediator backed off.
“Very well, if you will excuse me, I have your listing to see to. When do you wish to depart?”
“Morning, and a Lift would be wonderful. Things to do, farm to start, you understand. Can’t be wasting time walking when we could be growing.”
“A LIFT!” Hana was about to blow her top when she stood up in outrage. “Do you know how expensive that is going to be?”
“And you will get your cut.” Bretta said in a calm, even voice. “It will help make up for your losses.” The last was said with a not so kind smile.
A Lift it would seem, was ALOW’s answer to Uber. Not that I cared about the four-hour trip, or could even enjoy the in-game airplane ride in the back of a carriage. I was face deep in a Book of Learning - Carpentry. After this one, I still had Forestry, Farming, Cooking, Scavenging, Hunting, Skinning, and pretty much all others the Vendor had to sell. ALOW had no limit on Professions a person could learn or master. But like any game, once the book was read, I would be at beginner level until I mastered the needed points to reach novice, then another book, and so on to Apprentice and finally, Master. Not that I needed to be a master in all of these professions, but Bretta has been adamant that I learn as much as I could. Especially those skills I would need in the next few hours.
After what felt like forever, but was only about fifteen minutes, I finished the Carpentry book and felt a rush through my brain. I don’t know how to explain it, but I instantly knew how to split logs into rough cut boards and how to join together beams for a house. Not that I could put the knowledge to use, but I still knew how to do these things. It was awesome, and I quickly opened up the Forestry book.
Book after book I read, my head absorbing the information like a sponge. It was addicting and it almost seemed funny, that I had never considered doing any of these things in the real world. But I was itching to put my new found knowledge to the test, and Bretta laughed at my twitching hands. “Aye, I know that look well. Remember you’re a beginner, don’t take on more than you can handle and do so with patience.”
We hit the ground and I was ready to spread my wings. I wanted to fly, but I knew I had to walk first. With teeth grinding patience, I waited for our supplies to be unloaded from the other Lifts and Bretta wasted no time before sorting through all the crates. She handed me an axe and said, “You know what to do. Make us, and the horse, a place to stay warm and dry. Don’t chop off your leg.”
Whatever excitement I had been feeling, left me three days later. I had felled several large trees and knocked the branches and limbs from them. All the while Bretta was setting up our camp and seemed to be doing nothing but staring out over the fields all day. But I stayed in my lane, she was the master farmer, I was just an idiot with an axe. By my calculations, I needed another two trees and I would have enough wood for the house, slash stable. My body ached, my muscles screamed in protest, I loved it. Nothing would stop me from building this house.
I got the wood and now came the fun part, making boards and beams, but right before I was about to set one of the wedges in a tree, Bretta called out. “I hope you know where to build the house and have the foundation ready before you start splitting logs.” I swore as I walked the land, looking over a place to set the foundation. This shit was not easy, no point and clicking for a keyboard warrior here. Everything had to be thought out first and I knew from my idiot's guide to professions that I almost made a huge mistake. Once I found a spot, it would be close to the farm, and a nearby stream, I started to collect rocks. “What are you doing, stop wasting your time with those. There are plenty in the field that need to be moved. Use those!”
I was struggling, like I had a hundred-pound weight tied to my legs and had been thrown in the middle of the sea. This was far more complicated than I could have ever imagined, but luckily for me, I had a Bretta. Kind if not hard to look at. She was the type of person that would let you struggle, then take you by the hand, roughly, point out why you’re a moron and then offer up advice. I really liked her, and once she got the field squared up with markers in place. My days of carpentry and screwing up were over. Now filled with hard labor of collecting stones and piling them up where she indicated.
After a week, the field was ploughed, harrowed and then ploughed again and harrowed once more with horse manure. She said it was called, “tilling,” the term sparked my memory and I understood why, but I liked her explanation better. “I bet you don’t like trying to dig down in hard soil, well, neither do roots.” Two days later the field was planted and now the focus turned toward a house.
With the two of us, we got the rough looking cabin up in just under a week. I would split the logs to her specifications, and help with cutting mortise and tenon joints. Everything was dry fitted at least a dozen times before any walls were actually raised. Then the brain numbing work really began, drilling out dowel holes. In the end, I was proud of the shabby, yet sturdy cabin.
“Behold what ya can do with your own two hands and a strong back. To the underworld with the guilds. Only thing they are good at is taking people’s coin and giving them crap in return.” Bretta was beaming just as brightly as I was. “Not much to look at, but with a little care and paint, she will last forever.” I agreed.
It was a small structure, single story with high rafters on a rock and clay foundation. I would never run my hand over the rough-cut wood, it needed sanding like a man dying of thirst needed water. It had three windows, two for us and one for the attached stable. Right now, all it had was a blanket for a door, the fireplace was stone and clay with a large hearth for the cold winter nights. It was mine, the first thing in my life I had ever built, and I was filled with a fierce pride. Tomorrow we would see to the finishing touches, a door, shutters and paint. Not to mention I still needed to make us beds and a table. I couldn’t wait to have it all done.
After only one month, we had a systematic routine down so precise, the Army would be jealous. We awoke before the sun, finished off the night supper to break our fast, followed by washing the large pot in the nearby stream, washing ourselves, then filling the pot with fresh water to be boiled. Then it was off to the treeline to check my snares and traps, dressed and cleaned anything unlucky enough to become ensnared. All the while Bretta got the horse ready for the morning. Once Bretta had the horse taken care of, I would fill our canteens with boiling water, and set off for the tiny stable.
After I finished with my chores, I would check the garden, then help her in the fields. Bretta had proclaimed, “the garden is yours to screw up.” It wasn’t a full field of crops, only a thirty by thirty chunk of dirt that produced the ingredients for our stews. It was our food, what we ate, and I took as much care of it as I could. Weeding, watering, adding nutrients from our compost pile. Hell, I even started to talk to the damn plants, giving each a name and it was strange how the produce they grew changed from average to excellent. It could have all been in my head, but for the life of me, somehow, I knew it was because I took the time to talk with each one.
Bretta claimed, “You’re an idiot.” But she didn’t have an answer as to why the plants were upgrading all on their own.
By the end of two months, our first field was a week away from harvest, the second and third just behind it. The fourth was freshly plowed and ready for planting, but Bretta had held off by saying, “I need to get a feel of what the buyers want. We can’t just be a straight wheat farm, the dirt will never last. I’m going to be gone for a few days, south to Nesix, big buyer community there. Might even pick up a few boys to help.” She
asked me then for a few hundred silver and I handed it over to her without thought. “Be leaving in the morning.”
I pursed my lips and nodded my head in thought for a moment. “Bretta, I have a question for you.” She raised her large eyebrows for me to go ahead. “What do you think of being my partner?”
“Sorry, you’re nice enough looking, but too green behind the ears for my taste. Not to mention I am past my heat years now.”
I blinked at her perplexed. “WHAT?” Realization hit me just as fast as her smile crossed her face. “No, not marriage, I mean the farm. You have as much invested here as I do, and we make a good team. It is only fair you get paid for your efforts here. I mean, we never really discussed what I was going to pay you for all your help.”
“Naw, you don’t owe me a thing. This is just what Ol’ Bretta needed to get back into the life. Too many years on the quest trail, forget what it feels like to work under the sun.” Her eyes became unfocused and I could almost see the thoughts going through her head. After a moment of reflection, she stated, “but I am not opposed to partnering up with you. As long as you don’t try to push me around none, I am no one’s slave.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” We hashed out the terms, and she did not seem overly happy with the idea of a nonprofit. But that was what was going on here, majority of the silver would be put back into the farm and we would only get small cuts from the harvests. Grudgingly she agreed and I wrote a letter to Hana to make it official. “I wish there was a way to send this to her directly.” I stated, thinking that it was going to be a long time before I would get a reply.
“Buy a delivery box.” Bretta said it like it was the most known thing in all of the world. “Hell, you would have had your answer by now if you had one.”
Adding one of those to the already maxed out grocery list, and coughing up another hundred silver. Bretta set off very early the next morning, not even bothering to take anything with her.
I struggled my way through the day, behind in everything without her help. It dawned on me while I was waiting for the stew to finish simmering, that I was stupid, I had made enough supper for three people. Bretta eating enough for two, and I shook my head at the mistake. All day I had been going about it just like I always had. I didn’t need nearly as much water, not as much dinner. Snaring four rabbits was enough meat to last me until she got back, why was I going about this like she would be returning any minute.
My thoughts became both abusive and depressing. Even though it was the first time I was alone since I started the game, everything just seemed empty, too quiet. The cabin was now too large, and if it wasn’t for the stupid horse kicking at the stable door, I would have...THUMP!
I stood from my chair near the fire. THUMP! I cocked my head slightly, wondering if I had imagined...THUMP, CRACK! “Motherfucker. Stupid fucking horse, what the hell is wrong...” Then I heard a blood curdling howl, like nothing I had ever heard before. “Shit,” I ran over and took hold of the axe, the howl had been close, maybe at the treeline, if not a little further in the forest. It sounded again, and this time I paid closer attention to it. It wasn’t so much of a howl, a mix between pain and anger, whatever it was, it was big and way to close to the farm for my liking.
The hair on my neck and arms were standing on end, and I chanced a look from the nearest window. It was far too dark to see anything, and I moved away just in case it was not as big as it sounded. Like a scared child, I stood in the center of the cabin, holding my axe, my ears straining for any sound other than the crackle and spitting of the fire. Another howl came a few minutes later, this time, further away. In about ten more minutes, the howl was so faint it sounded like the wind and the stupid horse stopped kicking the stable door.
I wasn’t making light of the situation, in fact, someone might have said I went a little overboard. Especially when it took me nearly a half hour to pull down the barricades I had placed in front of the door, just to feel comfortable enough to sleep. I didn’t leave the cabin until it was fully light, and seeing how I still had another two meals left over, I took the pot out of the fire and placed it on the table.
As I went about my chores for the morning, I found no sign of whatever made those strange sounds last night, until I got to my snares, or what was left of them. There were bits of rabbit parts all over the place and my wire traps were unsalvageable. But there was nothing aside from that, no prints in the dirt or mud, no scrape marks from claws, nothing. The other thing I noticed, there were no other animals in the woods either. It was eerily quiet, and it seemed the wind was even scared, for there wasn’t even a whisper of it.
Hastily, I checked the fields, crushed and removed insects from the crops, and deposited their bodies on the compost pile. Heavy, saturated clouds moved in without a hint of a breeze and the whole day was foreboding as hell. The horse wouldn’t come out of the stable, and he made it three times as hard to clean it, but I got the message as clear as day. Whatever had made those sounds was still out there.
I took down his door and added a few extra boards to beef it up a bit. As I went to rehang it, I noticed it was also twice as heavy, making the whole job a pain in the ass. I managed it somehow, with a lot of swearing and even more elbow grease. The horse seemed happier and I shut his shutters just as the rain started in.
Taking more boards for my own door, I thought it would be a good day to work inside, and set about cleaning the place up after re-enforcing the main door. I fiddled around the cabin until my stomach growled, and I placed the pot back over the fire to warm up. The rain was hammering the thatch roof, all too soon small droplets of water started to rain down on me. Then the wind hit, and the whole building groaned in protest. Not to mention the blasting wind was sending rain in through the windows.
It was a nightmare, once I took care of one issue, another would pop up. Once I got the shutters closed, and started to take care of leaking thatch, that was when I heard it. The fucking howling again, but to be able to hear it in this wind, it had to be closer this time. That was when I heard the horse scream as it started to kick wildly at the door. My mood was already dreary as my soaked clothes, and I had had enough of whatever it was outside. Whatever it was would not kill my horse, it was my sole employee and as much as I swore at it, he did his job with little complaint. Like hell, I was going to let something eat him.
I grabbed the axe and my knife, but as I went for the door, I saw it bend in so far, I thought it was going to implode. I braced for a shower of splinters, but they never came, thanks to the reinforcement planks I had nailed to it. Again something hit the door and it creaked loudly on the hinges. “Fuck it, this is happening. Get some motherfucker!” I screamed my desperation at the door, my heart beating a thousand beats per second. I don’t know why I said the next thing, but the words were out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking. “To the underworld with you foul wretch, this be the house of the enlightened, come darkness and despair, the goddess shall forever reign upon me.”
“What the fuck?” I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the thing outside, for we both went silent for a time. It must have known what I said, because the howl that shattered the moment of relief, made me drop my weapons to cover my ears.
A small icon flashed before my eyes, and the retarded stun debuff started to count down from five. While I was stunned, it set upon the door with reckless abandon, and I could hear the wooden dowels scream in protest. My only hope was they held long enough for me to recover from the debuff.
When the counter hit zero, and I still had a door between me and the thing, I wasted no time. It wanted in, and I needed to get out. Death did not matter at this point, I knew I was going to die, for I was still Tier One. The lowest of the low and I didn’t have a lick of fighting experience in this game. It seemed the only experience I did have, was my hand to hand combat skills I acquired in the Army. But even Bretta said they would be useless against certain beasts and adventurers. I needed to learn a weapo
n, pick a class, but I had saved all that for later, once the farm was up and running.
My excuses bitch slapped the hell out of my consciousness, it was too late for regrets. I had made yet another mistake, one that was definitely going to hurt, but if I could get outside, maybe I could reduce the damage it did to my shit. Time for thinking was over, and I made a flying corkscrew leap through the shutters of the window, like heroes did in movies When my hands hit the wood, I heard more than felt my fingers break, and before I could protest the pain in my hands, I was outside, so wet my soul was soaked.
I lay there for a moment, performing an internal review of my body, my hands hurt, but still functioned. I was wet, hurt and pissed beyond belief. With my anger taking ahold of my better judgement, I came around the side of the cabin, ready for a fight. But as I made the corner, what I saw shook the “pissed” right out of me. There was nothing there, just the door being slammed by some sort of invisible force.
“What the fuck?! Is this a glitch or something?” I was confused to say the least, but my eyes were scanning the darkness for movement, anything for indication of what was causing all the noise. It didn’t make any fucking sense, I could see the door moving inward with each blow that wasn’t there. I could…Then it howled, so loud I was driven to my knees, and the fucking debuff took over again. But once again, as soon as it hit zero, I was fine and the process started over.
The hair on my neck and arms lowered, and it was as if ALOW got their shit together, for the door stopped being slammed and the howling stopped. “Well, that was interesting.” The pain in my hands told me just how interesting it was, and I winced when the adrenaline exited my blood stream.
Noble Farmer Page 5
