“Oh for crying out loud, why didn’t you tell me people’s names had meanings?” Milo grouses. “Now I have to figure out who everyone is all over again. Blasted magic translator.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think anything of it.” I pause and frown thoughtfully. “What’s a burdock?”

“A thistle,” Milo says. “I’m going to go re-meet everyone now that I can properly communicate with them and figure out what their names actually mean.”

After encountering the hostile goblins of Muckburrow, Milo is more cautious about making first contact with new villages, sends a few Grubwick goblins without humans in his stead. So far, the other goblin villages have been hostile or neutral at best, even the neutral ones taking an attitude of “leave us out of this” or “wait and see”.

Although Milo is not technically in charge of Grubwick, [Elder Witch] Griza is, and she has basically told the goblins to do whatever Milo asks. She probably wouldn’t be as eager to support us were we to do anything against the interests of Grubwick, but so far she’s been happy to sit back and see where this is going.

Corwen is lacking in books on [Masonry], so I ask my mom for suggestions.

“Penbryn is known for its builders,” Anise says. “It’s not far and Aunt Heather confirmed there’s no reincarnators there. You can get lectures on the topic and watch them do their work, I’m sure. Let’s take a trip, shall we? We can take Juniper.”

When we arrive at the village of Penbryn, I speak with Jay, their [Masonry] teacher. Or rather, Anise speaks with him because we didn’t want to make it too obvious that I’m a reincarnator.

“Sure, he can sit in on a few lectures,” Jay says. “I don’t know whether he’ll get a Knowledge skill out of it or not, but there’s no harm in it. Your Hearth lets our children sit in on adventuring lectures without asking payment, so it’s only fair to return the favor.”

I’m just happy that I live in a civilization that’s willing to share knowledge. Anise and I are given a room in their guest house to stay in for the duration. I play the role of a dumb toddler that’s just really interested in building, and watch and listen intently.

“I wonder what happened to the goblins?” I overhear someone say in the guest house one evening. “We haven’t seen any raiders in months.”

“Maybe someone wiped them out,” another man comments. “Anise, you’re from an adventuring Hearth, aren’t you? Have you heard anything?”

“Oh, that?” Anise says. “Yeah, we convinced the local goblin village to be less aggressive. Even managed to trade for some of their mushrooms.”

“I’ll be damned. What kind of silver tongues do you have in your Hearth?”

“It was a crazy set of circumstances, I’ll tell you that much,” Anise says without going into detail.

Skill acquired: Subterfuge (Eavesdropping)

This was not the skill I came here to unlock, but whatever, I’ll take it. (How does every toddler not wind up with this? I suppose skills require at least a little deliberateness for the system to recognize them.)

I spend weeks attending lectures at Penbryn. On weekends, Anise takes me on trips back to Corwen or to Grubwick. It’s June before I finally get the first point of the skill I was after.

Skill acquired: Knowledge (Masonry)

Finally. Now I can quit pretending to be a baby and get out of here. This place isn’t nearly as exciting as Corwen.

With the skill under my belt, I return to Grubwick to get started. Before committing to trying to build a bridge over the dangerous river right away, we start off with the basics. We acquire some hard stone that would make good chisels, since we don’t have the capacity for metalworking yet. Making stone tools, however, is something they know, and the goblins wind up teaching me a thing or two about finding the proper stone and getting it into the shape I want.

Skill acquired: Crafting (Stoneworking) Skill acquired: Language (Goblin)

Both skills unlock after I successfully make my first passable stone chisel.

“Good job!” Rog, the goblin who was helping me says. “That tool will work decently.”

“I can understand you decently now, too,” I say. “Thanks for your help. I unlocked both Crafting (Stoneworking) and Language (Goblin).”

“Even more of a good job!” Rog says with a laugh. “Most humans don’t bother listening to what goblins have to say. We live between two worlds.”

I suddenly realize that the words I’d taken for swear words were not the sort of cursing I thought they were.

“What two worlds?” I ask.

“The Topside and the Underside, of course,” Rog says.

“There are people on the Underside?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” Rog says. “Strange people that live in the searing light of Tiganna. You will never see them in the In-Between or the Topside, fortunately. They can’t live without Tiganna’s light. And there’s so many monsters! We’re fortunate only a tiny number of them rise to the Great Sphere’s pull every year.”

I do not ask the obvious question, “Why do they not fall into the Void?”

I chat with everyone in the village who isn’t in an area I’m not allowed to go. Grubwick Hearth has a good deal more underground space than Corwen, rather than sprawling across the surface of the big cave. (I wonder what point in the In-Between the gravity shifts at?)

The humans also seem to be under the impression that the In-Between is the Underside. It doesn’t help that the entrances seem to be labeled like mall directions that don’t bother mentioning the maze of hallways you’re about to enter.

“How far is it to the nearest entrance to the Underside?” I ask one of them.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Far, very far,” the goblin says. “You are not ready for the journey. There are many layers of In-Between and many more dangerous peoples than goblins between here and there.”

“I’d imagine I need to level up a lot more before I can really seek out new life and new civilizations,” I say.

Now that I have a functional chisel, I start practicing with it. Goblins know about working with various types of stone, but they never had a reason to shape it into blocks and stack it up. The presence of a Hearth may have stifled their innovation a bit. They only learned how to make better spears and knives.

I don’t start off with trying to make passable stone blocks. I start off with just messing around and seeing how the chisel works without expectation that it will look like anything when I’m done.

I revel in the sensation that I have never done this before. In my life as an engineer, my society was well beyond the stone age and my job involved working on a much higher technology level. I was entirely too busy to take up flintknapping as a hobby.

And in the lives I don’t remember? I’m quite sure I did more hitting things than crafting. I was very good at hitting things.

My Knowledge (Masonry) tells me that this chisel is of “Poor” quality, and will do the job but not very well. It will be difficult to get even blocks with this. I decide to make a few more chisels to try to get one of a higher grade.

There’s also the matter of mortar.

“Milo, can we negotiate a trade between Grubwick and Penbryn for limestone?” I ask. “They own most of the local quarries.”

Milo nods. “It’ll need to wait until we’ve got more surplus resources or something to trade to get enough to do any serious building with.”

The goblins I spoke to seem to be happy with their shipment of Corwen wool. Some of them managed to unlock Crafting (Spinning). They’ve probably ruined some of it trying to get the proper skills, but Corwen devil-goats produce a very sturdy type of wool. Even with having to figure out how to spin it first, it’s an improvement over sinew and produces items of a higher grade even at lower skill levels.

At least ordinary rocks are plentiful to practice on, both in the In-Between and Topside, when you don’t care about the quality of your materials. I’m just trying to get a skill, not make a work of art. But perhaps I should be? I get the feeling that the system wants you to try to improve, not just blindly repeat the same thing over and over. I don’t usually get a skill unlocked until I’ve successfully accomplished something.

I make a smaller chisel for detail work and eventually get the system message I’ve been looking for upon making a turtle figurine that Milo can actually identify as a turtle.

Skill acquired: Crafting (Sculpting) Your Dexterity has increased to 3.

I’ve found my efforts at sculpting to be surprisingly relaxing and rewarding. There’s some joy in pushing your limits and not just doing the same old routine. The goblins I’ve been working with have been improving their skills bit by bit, too.

“This bridge will be awesome,” says Rog. “When do we start building it?”

“When we can reliably make arches that don’t fall down,” I reply. “We can practice over something a little safer. I’m thinking Skullburn Creek would be a good option to start with. It would make it easier for Corwen to get here, it’s smaller, and there’s nothing dangerous down there.”

“Will Corwen send guards to make sure no humans get the wrong idea about goblins Topside?” Rog asks.

“Of course,” I say. “My mom, Anise, will be there at least.”

I’m impressed at how far the goblins have come in a short period of time with shoddy instruction. I got to read books, listen to lectures on the topic, and watch some actual masons do their work. They only have me, blindly translating things I’ve heard. I strongly suspect that goblins are more intelligent than humans would imagine, they’re just not terribly ambitious or curious without something driving them. They’re weak, short-lived beings eking out an existence sandwiched between two places full of dangerous things.

Talking with the goblins gives me a good deal more understanding about goblin society. Their Hearth system is remarkably similar to the ones used by humans, but each Hearth’s warren contains many more goblins than a human Hearth would. There are about a hundred people who live in Corwen, while Grubwick alone has several times that amount, I’m guessing. Milo is the only goblin child allowed anywhere near the surface. They all know he’s a reincarnator and an exception to all the normal rules. They knew he was a “Chosen One” at birth.

I’m honestly glad Corwen doesn’t get all weird about the reincarnation thing. They don’t really treat me like a Chosen One, just as a very small adult who should know better. Totally unfair.

Before we try building a bridge, we build a little house inside the walls that can be an inn for any humans staying here so they don’t just have to pitch a tent. We can just make the roof as though it were a bridge. This will also keep out some of the noises of the In-Between. It’s surprisingly noisy down here. Every time my Stamina meter gets too low, I drift off listening to the keening sounds of monsters moving around somewhere far below us as well as the bizarre chirping of something that sounds like a dog-sized bug.

Which leads me to the goblins’ common choice of cuisine. If I want to eat down here, I either need to bring rations from the surface or eat dog-sized bugs. Fine, I’m feeling adventurous. What’s the worst that could happen? Anything short of killing me will probably just give me a resistance skill at worst, and I’m quite sure the [Elder Witch] wouldn’t let me die if she could help it. Grandma Laurel could wipe out this place single-handedly and she knows it.

The giant maggot meat… tastes a little like crab. Maybe crawfish. I am so very, very glad that it doesn’t taste like chicken.

“Where do these come from?” I ask.

“The swamp down the river,” says Rog. “They’re the ones that make that rrrr-rrrrrr sound all night.”

The goblin throat is weirdly capable of reproducing exactly the trill I keep hearing.

“Try some of their milk!” says another goblin, passing me a very uneven stone cup full of a liquid that does look like milk.

I take a sip. It also tastes remarkably like milk. Tangier than the milk of a devil-goat and less rich. I wonder if it can be made into cheese?

Our first arch collapses. Our second arch falls over. Our third arch does both at the same time. Our fourth arch stays up, at which point we realize a four foot tall arch won’t be suitable for a human-sized building. Three foot tall creatures building an eight foot tall structure will require the invention of scaffolding, I think.

Rough-hewn planks cut by stone axes tied together with devil-goat wool string. I don’t care to recount how many times it takes them to stay up.

After several more attempts and a few broken bones, we know we’re successful when we all get a system message.

Congratulations! Your party has constructed a small stone house. You have significantly advanced the development of Grubwick. Skill acquired: Crafting (Masonry) Skill acquired: Tending (Teaching) Your Dexterity has increased to 4.

“That did it!” Milo exclaims. “And it gave me Elite rank for it, too! With only two months to spare.”

“Congratulations!” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder.

“I will need to spend the next two months practicing magic skills,” Milo says. “Did you also get the message about the bonuses?”

I shake my head. “What did it say?”

“‘An Inn has been added to your village. Inn bonuses are now in effect.’ And quite a few numbers. A new button in my user interface appeared.” He frowns. “It seems either that Deed or the rank upgrade unlocked access to something. I can now see some details about my village in my head. This is… very strange and convenient. It says this is a Poor quality house that gives a +1 bonus to tenant happiness.”

“I wasn’t expecting our first attempt to be perfect but Poor, really?” I say with a smirk.

“It didn’t fall down,” Milo says.

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess that’s enough to try building a bridge over an actual body of water next. But that will have to wait till next year. Do you want to spend swarm season here or in Corwen?”

“I’ll be plenty safe down in the warrens and I’m not allowed into your Hearth,” Milo says.

“That’s probably true, but Corwen’s guest house is probably no less safe, and we’ve got people who can help get your magic skills up faster.”

“Hmm,” Milo says, then says. “I wanted to stay and teach a bit, but I realize I have a personal deadline and they do not have a deadline on civilization advances. Very well. I will accompany you to Corwen for the fall and return once enough of the monsters are gone that it’s safe to travel again.”