The relief on Newt's face smoothed away his knotted muscles. "Oh, thank you."
Inside the Glen, Newt headed to the Conservatory, while Luna went into the forest to hunt, leaving Terran to level up and check his settlement status. The first part was easy, with points going into Intelligence and Charisma.
Character: Terran [Demigod]
Protector of the Rock Leaf Elves
Level: 24
Class: Earthen Mage
Crystal Bard
Subrace: Rock Leaf Elf
HP: 1,210
Mana: 1,410
Sta: 3,980
Strength: 12
Intelligence: 27 (37)
Endurance: 28
Cunning: 11
Agility: 12
Charisma: 27 (37)
When he checked the settlement status, he found they almost had enough resources to increase to level 4.
Resources required for Level 4 Settlement
348/300 population
29/30 seeds planted
15,911/20,000 Loam
789/1,000 Sap
13/10 Level 1 Buildings
8/5 Level 2 Buildings
2/2 Level 3 Buildings
Planting the final seed would be trivial, but they lacked the loam and sap required to make it over the finish line. He didn't want to leave for the Shadow Labyrinth until the settlement was at 4, since he was the only one that could trigger it. After that, he could assign a seneschal, who could make decisions without him. Given that his journey could be one way, it was best if the Glen could survive his permanent death or capture.
Checking the loaming stats, the five collection sites were bringing in 412 loam per day. This meant they wouldn't acquire enough loam for another ten days. He'd hoped to get back on the road almost immediately, so this delay was too much. The sap was the other bottleneck, but at the current collection rate, they'd reach the goal amount in four days.
Terran went straight for Petram's tree, finding the shaman working a mortar and pestle while humming under his breath.
"Lord Terran. I didn't hear you return." His eyes searched Terran. "Were you successful?"
"I was. The black crystal is in the Shadow Labyrinth, which is in the Lady of Shadows' plane."
"That is unfortunate," said Petram, setting down his tools. "Do you plan on attempting to retrieve it?"
"I do, but first I want to get the settlement to level 4. We're close. The only thing we need is more loam, but I don't want to wait another ten days," said Terran.
"The collection requires competent loamers who can correctly identify the proper soil," said Petram, frowning. "We lack any more to support larger collection efforts."
Terran paced, alternating between rubbing his chin and making fists with his hands. "If we send untrained loamers, can they pair with the experienced ones to increase output?"
"It would require more labor."
Terran sighed. "The law of diminishing returns. How many?"
"Untrained?" Petram tapped on his chin while he stared at the leafy sky. "Another sixty, sixty-five to be sure. It would cut the collection time down to four days."
"Great," said Terran. "Please do it."
"Who should I take from?"
"Everyone but food and defense. That means everyone, even me," said Terran.
"Very well. I shall inform the Glen," said Petram, inclining his head before disappearing from his tree.
Terran visited the trading post next. Multiple trees had been grown together to form a roof over a wide area. Della saw him well before he arrived, her eyes creasing, the smile eventually reaching her lips, which stretched wide as she handed over a box of goods to one of the newcomers from Salt Luck. The older woman accepted the box and then goosed slightly when she saw him.
"Lord Terran," said the old woman, immediately glancing back to Della, a mischievous grin burgeoning. "Oh honey, nice work."
As the woman left, Terran approached the table. "How is the post?"
"Good. Vievel just left this morning. He'd been in Dagrath with Zara," she said, fidgeting with a roll of whisperweave cloth.
"Any news about recruitment?"
She tilted her head. "Only that things were going slow." Della let her eyes drop. "And your trip?"
"Successful."
Della placed the cloth in a small crate, marked a piece of parchment with her quill, and took a step towards the back. "Which means you'll be leaving again soon."
"In four days to be exact."
Della brightened. "I was hoping to spend time together."
"Back in the area, but not in the settlement," said Terran, grimacing. "We need to increase the loam output, so I'm going north to help collect."
"How long will you be gone after that?" she asked as she scraped at an ink stain on her palm with her thumb without looking up.
"I don't know. I'm headed to the realm of shadow. That's where the black crystal is. If I'm going to protect the Glen, I need to find it," said Terran.
Della's eyes came up. "There's where Chanterelle is."
He swallowed. "Yes."
"You expect to see her," she said, pinching her lips.
"It seems likely."
Della paused. "I see." Then she turned back towards the shelves of goods.
Terran opened his mouth to speak, but Jondar came hurrying up, his forehead damp with sweat. "Terran. I heard you'd come back."
He meant to say more to Della, but she was behind the shelves when Jondar arrived. The heavy bard raised an eyebrow, but Terran gestured to stroll away. He gave Jondar the rundown of his visit.
"Zoras will be pleased to know that a black crystal exists, but I think the semi-apology from Lore Keeper Gruul will mean more," said Jondar.
"What happened when he was at the Citadel?"
Jondar lifted a shoulder. "He won't say, but even the mention of it makes him red-faced."
"How are the trainees?"
Jondar scooped up a handful of acorns from the grass and started launching them as they walked. "Hedge and Echinacea are sponges, absorbing the material quickly, but Isabella is something else. She'll be quite formidable as she develops."
"Have you tested their crystal affinities?" asked Terran.
"They all have a green affinity, Echinacea is crimson as well, and Isabella is strongly azure and a fair crimson," said Jondar, shifting his mouth to the side.
"Ouch, Della's not going to be happy about that," said Terran.
"I'm hoping one of them is topaz, not that we can grow them yet, but a healing bard would be useful on the battlefield," said Jondar.
"Oh, that reminds me," said Terran, reaching into his pouch and producing the bag of gemstones that Keeper Latia had given him. "This has a translucent opal, which means we only need an exquisite goldenrod flower to grow the topaz. Any ideas where we can get one?"
Jondar shook the bag, which rattled slightly. "With these I can surely trade for one, if not, I'll talk to Ash. He's sure to know where to find one."
"Good. I'd like to grow a topaz before I leave for the Shadow Labyrinth," said Terran.
Jondar left for the Conservatory, where he was meeting the trainees for their afternoon session. Terran didn't think it necessary to visit with Zoras since Newt would fill him in, so he made the rounds of the settlement, reaching the caves where the Salt Luckers and Granite had taken residence. He arrived in time to hear the enormous crag troll bellowing in pain.
Terran ran to the smithy, finding Granite punching the cliff wall behind his building, chips of stone raining down, revealing bloody knuckles.
"Granite! Granite!"
The crag troll blacksmith spun around with his fist ready for destruction until he saw who was speaking to him, then his expression paled. It wasn't yet evening, but lanterns had been lit, casting soft light across the buildings.
"I am sorry, Lord Terran the Victorious," said Granite, staring at the ground like a disobedient child. "I cannot hold my temper any longer."
"What's wrong?"
Granite led him to the sleeping pallet where the big troll lay to rest. Even before he reached it, the stench made Terran pinch his nose with his forefinger and thumb.
"What is that smell?"
"Pond mud," grumbled Granite, "and not just any pond, but the one where the Bullywugs live. This is third time. Whenever I am away from the smithy it happen."
"I'm sorry, Granite. I'll put a stop to it," said Terran, looking around for those that lived near his abode.
The big crag troll wordlessly scooped up his bedding, gnashing his teeth as he carried it away to be destroyed. Terran watched for a moment before catching one of the Salt Luck dwarves who lived nearby.
"You," said Terran. "Did you see anyone mess with Granite's stuff?"
The beardless dwarf put a hand to his vest, shaking his head vehemently. "No, sir, not a thing, but I been up at the Glen all day at the orchard, pickin' fruit."
"Who stays in the camp during the day?"
The dwarf rubbed the back of his neck. "Them older folk, especially the one with the foul mouth, they spend their time knitting and cooking."
"Right. Abathee. Do you know where she lives?"
The dwarf extended his arm to a collection of huts covered in hide. A smokey fire burned at the center. Three older women and two older men sat on primitive chairs in a circle around the fire, working knitting needles.
Abathee's keen eyes found him as soon as he stepped into the light. "Oh, there's our Lord Terran. If I weren't nearing eighty, I think I would have crawled in his bed and showed him what's what."
The older woman across from Abathee cackled. "You lying twat, Abathee. You passed eighty years ago. I remember that was when you killed that Kapper that had snuck into your house by farting in your sleep."
Abathee extended her middle finger towards her fire companion. "Not in front of our lord and master."
Terran chuckled, picking at the old furs draped over the nearest scaffolding. The buildings were little more than tents. "I see we're enjoying the new location. Anything I can do to help upgrade your huts?"
"These are only temporary. The younger folk are making us proper houses," said the woman who was teasing Abathee.
He checked the build times and the materials required, assigning a few more laborers to the job.
"I'll see if I can get that done quicker," he said, smiling. "But that's not why I came here."
Abathee spryly rose from her seat, setting down her knitting. "I knew you were going to ask me back to your tree. There might be a little age difference, but I'm willing to overlook it."
"I'm here to talk about Granite," said Terran, repressing a grin.
Abathee shot him a wink. "Oh, a shame. I guess I read that one wrong. What's going on with our big friend?"
"Seen anything unusual around his area when he's not around? Someone's been putting Bullywug pond mud in his bedding," said Terran.
The other older folk looked away while Abathee rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, you wimps, you all seen the same things I seen. He's big and ugly, not as ugly as you, Sanada, but he ain't all bad." The wrinkled old woman sighed. "Fine. I seen one of those elf women sneakin' around sometimes. Never saw her in the smithy, but she looked like she was up to no good."
"Elf woman? Can you describe her?" asked Terran, even though he had a good idea of who it was.
Abathee screwed up her face. "Can't say I could. My eyes are shit, only thing I could smell, besides the whiff of that awful mud, was the scent of a fresh garden. If that makes any sense."
"A loamer. They all smell like that." He looked back towards Granite's smithy. "I'm pretty sure I know who it is. Thanks, Abathee."
"That all the thanks I get?"
"Fair point."
As he crossed the little camp, she put her hands on her hips and puckered up. Terran leaned down, kissed her on the forehead.
"Well that was disappointing," she said with a wink. "Was planning on giving you a slip of the old tongue."
"Keep an eye on Granite's place for me," said Terran, pointing around the fire. "All of you. We need our blacksmith."
When there were enough nods, Terran stepped through his hidden pathway and returned to the hilltop, heading for Enoki's lodgings. He found her scrubbing a pair of sandals in a bucket of water, which smelled suspiciously like pond mud. As soon as she noticed him, she tensed up.
"Evening, Enoki."
She dropped the scrubber and crossed her arms. "What do you want?"
"I need your help," he said.
Suspicion passed through her gaze. "What?"
"We're increasing the number of loamers on the job. Obviously they're not experienced and will need guidance," he said.
"I heard as much," she replied, scowling.
"Besides your father, you're the most experienced loamer in the Glen. I need your help so we can expand to the Lost Valley site," said Terran.
She exploded from her crouched position. "Are you crazy? That place is overrun with burrowbeasts. Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"Not in the least bit. It's the richest loaming site on the continent. If we can tap into it, we'll meet our production targets, which is why I'll be coming along as your personal guard. If I can't stop these burrowbeasts then we're screwed when it comes to the Howling Wind."
Enoki opened and closed her mouth, before snarling to herself. She clearly couldn't muster a reasonable argument against.
"When do we go?"
"Bright and early tomorrow morning. Don't worry about hiking gear. I'll be taking everyone by my secret routes," he said.
Enoki left without another word, not even bothering to gather her muddy sandals. He had a few more errands before bed, then he wanted to get some rest, since the next day was certain to be difficult, and not because of the burrowbeasts.
Chapter Twenty-One
"No. No, absolutely not," said Enoki when she arrived at the crest of the hill with her loaming gear: compact shovel, hand pick, and a heavy lined backpack. The snarling elf's cheeks bloomed crimson with anger.
The crag troll, Granite, speaking with the other members of the loaming party, had made himself small, squeezing his shoulders and crouching so as not to seem intimidating. But Enoki's outburst puffed him up like a cobra readying to strike, and though he didn't say anything, his pinched stare at the newcomer made Terran regret his plan.
"Are you saying you're not going to help the Glen? You would prefer to let the Howling Wind overrun us?" asked Terran.
Speared by the gazes of the eleven other loamers and guards, Enoki tightly shook her head before grumbling and turning away. She jammed her pick downward with ferocity, sparking off a rock as the sharp end impaled the ground.
"Gather round, I'm only going to say this once. We're headed to a loaming site near the Lost Valley. I won't lie, this place is dangerous. There are burrowbeasts all over, which is why the loam is so good there. But we're not going deep, only to a site right on the edge of the forest. I can take three people at a time. We'll have to make a short hike once we arrive, but then we'll be at the loaming site. No wandering, no screwing around. We have eight loamers, four guards, and myself for this journey."
"And one lynx," said Luna, who jogged up from the far side of the hill. Terran hadn't seen her in days, but nodded at her arrival.
A stocky dwarf raised his hand. "Not sayin' I ain't goin' but there's a reason we don't go to the plains on account of those burrowbeasts. They sneak up through the earth and drag you under when you ain't looking."
"That's why the group is small and we have nearly as many guards as loamers. As for the burrowbeasts, we'll figure them out when we get there," said Terran.
When no one had further questions, Terran grouped them all using his interface, then took the loaming party through the hidden pathways to a spot near the plains. He'd gotten up early that morning to scout, so he wasn't dragging everyone around for hours.
The hike was short. Barely enough to break a sweat. They skirted the edge of the loca
tion where he and Luna had fought the peryton. His companion wagged her bristling eyebrows at the fallen trees, while the rest of the party shied away, sensing the danger unconsciously. While he'd killed the peryton, there were always bigger and badder creatures to take its place.
The Lost Valley wasn't really lost. It'd gotten its name because no one dared to tread there. When Terran had asked Kumotake, he'd explained that centuries ago the Rock Leaf Forest had extended into the region, and his ancestors had farmed for loam there, but the burrowbeasts had moved in from the Moss Mountains to the north and slowly driven them out.
The valley was quite flat, except for a pair of rivers that meandered down from the mountains. The occasional flooding had filled the valley with rich soil, the perfect breeding ground for the best loam.
"This loam site is known," said Enoki, standing on the opposite side of the group from Granite, "because some Rock Leaf Elves tried to work it a while back, only to lose most of their party to the burrowbeasts."
Enoki gestured randomly towards the bright green grasses, their colors so rich and bright that it almost seemed unnatural. The region smelled like health and vitality.
"Good loam is created when the right grubs eat the clays and other hard soils, turning them loose and rich with nutrients that our trees need for growing. But it can't be too wet, or too dry." She pointed to a section of ground dotted with large stones. "That's where the loam is. Away from the regular river flooding, but close enough to be well hydrated."
"Where are the burrowbeasts?" asked a dwarf named Zipper as he tugged his black beard.
"In the ground," said Enoki. "See that fresh mound on the other side of the river? That's where one came out, probably to snatch an unwary bird or other foolish creature."
They worked their way down to the site in a straight line, which was about a half mile from the tree line. The ground was soft and spongy. Terran could have lain on it for a nap if it weren't for the creatures lurking beneath. He grouped them up, two loamers and one guard. When he got to Enoki and Granite, the elf pleaded with her eyes not to pair them, but he'd left them for last on purpose.
The Shadow Labyrinth: A LitRPG Adventure Page 15
