A Helping Hand
Magsnik gazed out into the vast field before him as the heavy handle of his scythe rested upon his shoulder. This was his battleground, for today was harvest day and he needed to get as much of his crops as he could. His crops had a ridiculously short growing cycle but that suited him just fine. It would allow him to stock up fast especially when he had another mouth to feed.
He glanced towards his farm's other inhabitant, "Oy! No eating the crops till you cook them! Eat it now and you'll have cabbage-heads sprouting out of your ears!" He scolded her just as she was about to take a bite out of the head of the 'cabbage-shrooms' he planted. Hey, he doesn't have any better name for them and their orky name was far too glutural.
The woman pouted as she tossed said cabbage head to the basket she had on his back. The pack was big but not too big on her smaller frame and thanks to her demonic nature, she could actually carry a lot of stuff, "I was just taking a quick taste!" She fired back but he knew her all too well to fall for that.
"I'll cook stir-fry if you fill your basket!" He promised her, dangling a reward for her to encourage her to behave. If there's one thing he learned while living with her these past few days it was that food was the best and most effective way to curb her more destructive behaviors. The promise he made right now was more than enough to get her all fired up.
"Stir-fry! Stir-fry!" She chanted her warcry as she twisted off the cabbage-shroom's leafy caps with renewed vigor, having another hand definitely helped but the field he had was far too big.
"I really should downsize my farm," He mused as he unslung his scythe and went back to harvesting the stalks of grains before him. He glanced back as the greater daemon he now called his room mate and realized that might be a bad idea.
The rhythmic swinging of his scythe provided him with much needed core exercise. Back and forth he swung with the back of his blade clacking against the tough rows of stalk ahead of him before the sharp blade sliced through with a satisfying schwing. He reaped through his field as the stalks were pushed aside by the small board he attached at the back of the double handed blade for him to pick up later. With the lack of clouds above, he had nothing to fear about any sudden rain that might wash away his crops.
From time to time, he'd see some grain stalks that had bundles of caps on their ends rather than merely one of the bulbous things. He picked up those mutants and placed them in another pouch attached to his belt. He'd need the spores of them when he burned the field later. Breeding mushrooms was all but impossible, but at least they grew quick enough and grew in vast enough numbers that mutations cropped up from time to time.
The long strides and large sweeps he made allowed him to harvest a substantial amount of his grains. Sure it was tedious and time consuming, but it was relaxing and he worked up quite a sweat; a step closer to getting back in shape! Just as he was about to make another sweep, she stopped mid swing as he noticed the bump in the ground that had grown in the middle of his field. He continued his swing, pushing aside the stalks before clearing the area around the small mound.
From the throbbing veins and translucent membrane hiding a small curled up figure inside, he knew exactly what this was. "Well I'll be damned, a gretchin mound," he whispered out in surprise. He had expected a snotling mound to first appear in his field, but not a gretchin already. Seemed like cultivating his field allowed him to skip some steps. He turned towards the forest and glared after that thought, surveying his field, looking at its unprotected borders; he needed to make a wall around his home or he'd wake up to a burning house.
"Something wrong big guy?" Asked Beel in concern as she walked up to him. He simply gestured at the mount that had grown in his field. He stared at it as he pulled out his whetstone and sharpened the blade of his scythe. "Ohh! Weren't you looking for a servant to help with the chores?" she reminded him as he nodded in response.
A big house and a big farm needed a lot of work. Sure he had Beel around now to help him with his task but he's still bogged down by all the tasks he needed to do. He needed to feed the squigs, tend the crops, manage his forest, cultivate his small 'herb' garden, and many more tasks. Having a farm hand would help a lot and would free him up and allow him to explore. He could allow it to be born but every damn orkoid that wasn't a plant hated him with a passion, something which the squigs could attest to.
That decision would be taken away from him as the thing finally popped open. A clawed hand burst from the sac and out came out the hunched and skinny form of a gretchin. It was unremarkable, even on the smaller side barely reaching up to Beel's thighs, but it was well formed and without deformities. As it took its first breath in this hulk, he reared back and let out a small bellow before charging at him with a crazed look on its eyes. He sighed as he planted the butt of his scythe down on the loamy ground and faced the creature head-on.
He promptly punted it several meters away from him. He held back on his kick, not wanting to kill the thing and, thankfully, it got up. It charged him again but this time it picked up a rock and, once more, he kicked it away. He made sure to apply a bit more force this time around and the gretchin rolled up to the edge of his farm. This process repeated several more times and each time, he came back with a better weapon. First he grabbed a stick, then he tied the rock he had earlier to the stick to make some crude hammer.
This proved to be quite hilarious for the Nurglite who laughed at his trouble as he waited for the thing to get tired. "Oh god, it's adorable! Let's keep it," She crooned as he watched the small diminutive creature roll away.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" He answered back as he waited for the thing to get tired. The thing was willful, yes, but eventually it'd have to give up. The injuries the little guy had were accumulating and he could already see doubt in its eyes. While the squigs were just mere animals, Gretchins were different. They were smart, they were sapient, and the glint of intelligence shone in this creature's eyes as confusion started to set in.
"Punting it for entertainment?" The woman quipped as they watched the thing starting to slow down. Its legs quivering as fear and realization started to properly settle in but still, it marched on, as if spurred on by some force. He knew those two forces well and he just so happened to know that they were not omnipotent when it comes to the will of something orky.
"Well, that and establishing the hierarchy." He added as the gretchin raised its hammer once again and charged, its voice raspy from all the shouting it had been doing for the last few minutes.
"Oh really?" She teased him, smiling at him with that smug look that raised his hackles.
"Yes really," he rolled his eyes, doing his best to not get baited as he looked at the gretchin. It was exhausted now, spent from its repeated attempts and thus more pliable. Squaring his shoulders, he glared at it before barking out a command in orkish, the natural tongue of the orks "You! Stop!"
The thing skidded to a halt as it froze not just from fright but from the instinctive need to follow. "Yes bozz!" it squawked out with its raspy voice as it talked for the first time. He further emphasized his authority as he loomed over the quivering goblinoid that didn't even go past his shin. He leaned down, snorting out at the gretchin as he bared his teeth, daring the thing to do it but it faltered as boneless hands dropped the hammer it wielded.
Properly cowed, he picked it up by its scruff as he started relaying his commands at it. It was afraid and disoriented from the warring instincts and intelligence it had, nothing a good and proper boss can't fix with some commands.
"Pick up the crops now!" He bellowed at it full force as he stuffed the things hand with bundles of grain-shrooms before he dragged it all the way to the path nearby.
"Right away bozz!" The gretchin screamed out in panic as it picked up as much crops as it could while it babbled out incoherently. There, baskets were laid down for him to fill but now, it'd be the gretchin's job to fill them, which might prove challenging given the size of the baskets but that wasn't for him to figure out.
"Drop the crops here!" he ordered at the whimpering bundle of flesh he had in his hands and the thing whimpered out as it dropped the bundle it had been clutching its hands. Satisfied that he had shown it what it needed to do, he dropped it on the ground as it stared at him with naked terror as well as bewilderment. "What are you looking at?! Move! Gather the crops! Drop the crops here!" he roared out, reminding the gretchin of its task.
"On it bozz! I iz a good gretchin!" The creature cried out as it promptly bolted for the field to gather the fallen stacks as fast as its tiny hands could. Beelzebub whistled in amazement as she walked up to him with a basket filled with cabbage-caps.
"I thought you were retired, Magsnik?" She asked as she dropped down the basket and picked up another. She looked as immaculate as ever, not even breaking a sweat from all the work she had been doing and still sporting the rotting scent of fruit and flowers.
"I did retire Beel, but I didn't lose the tools of my trade. A warboss will always know how to act like a Warboss," he answered. He had been a warboss far longer than anything else he'd been and it stuck to him. Yes, he had laid down his maul for the life of a farmer but that did not mean he couldn't pick it up once more.
"Pet names already~? My my, you move fast,~" She replied teasingly as she slung another basket over her shoulder before sauntering off, knowing full well how his eyes drifted downwards whenever she did that. He groaned in annoyance as he tore his gaze away and stomped his way back to his scythe.
"Oh zod off. Your name's a mouthful and you know it." He fired back as he grabbed his scythe and went back to reaping his grain. Thankfully, the repetitive motion helped him take his mind off of her for a while. Unburdened by the need to stop to gather the crops and stuff them in their respective baskets, his work in the field had just gotten a whole lot easier.
-x-x-x-
When he set out to harvest his field, he expected it to be finished in three days' time. Now, he stared at a field that had just been cleared in a single day. He was sweaty, his arms were sore, and his back ached; but the task he had set out was now done. Even Beel looked a bit winded as she wiped her forehead of what little sweat she had. As for his gretchin, the less he talked about its state the better. It simply laid on the ground, a bruised ball of pain and agony who gasped for air.
"Beel, start a fire. We're making stir-fry tonight." He replied as he grabbed as many baskets of the more perishable vegetable-shrooms as he could before he went back inside to gather the ingredients he needed. He needed some oil, some truffles, some onion-bulbs, along with some cream. He wanted to have some soup to go with his stir fry because he was starving.
"I'm way ahead of you!" The woman declared as she ran off to the back of his house to gather some firewood. He chuckled as he saw the daemon do a little dance of excitement just as she disappeared out to the back, shaking his head in amusement as he headed inside so he could gather everything he needed.
Entering the cellar, he passed by shelves of preserved meats and cheeses along with bottles of pickled veggies and preserved jams and headed for the back of the room. There, he'd find the trapdoor leading to the lower level of his cellar as well as where he stored most of his perishables. He reached the wooden handle before and pulled it open, white fog rolling out of the cold room while the blue light of the cold tolerant light shrooms filtered out from below.
Lowering down the basket of veggies, he descended down his underground freezer/cold room. Lucky for him, there were glaciers dotting his little hulk, so getting some ice was an easy affair. Ice was all he needed to make an old fashion freezer. He just needed to make sure it was insulated and the things he stored below were on shelves to keep them from the eventual melt water and he got himself a place that could keep his already hardy crops stored far longer than what he'd usually could if he left them outside.
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He'd find himself in a room line with wood with cold air leaking from between the slabs of wood. He reached out for one of the panels and opened it to reveal the frozen ice. Packed together with saw dust and other insulating products, he expected this to last him for one last harvest season before he needed to get more ice.
Closing the panel, he found the row where he stored his vegetables and dumped his load in the back end. New vegetables always got stored at the back as the common wisdom was first in, first out to avoid food rotting inside his storage. While he would be using some of the vegetables of his new harvest, he was mixing them in with the ones from the last harvest.
Gathering what he needed, he climbed back up and closed the door behind him and he made sure to close it as tightly as he could. Satisfied, he went on to check his water barrels, peering down his last one and saw that it was already half empty. He needed to get some fresh ice to make more later. He wasn't going to drink water with saw dust if he could help it. He reached up to fill a small gourd before heading back out.
Coming back out, he found Beel tending the fire while his gretchin was sulking in a corner, looking at the first longingly but not bothering to stand up. "Come on you slowpoke! I'm starving here. Don't keep me waiting!" She shouted as she waved at him.
He snorted as he walked up to the little thing first and dropped the water gourd he filled on his lap, "Drink up," He rumbled out as he walked towards his companion. He ignored the bewildered stare he got from it as he plopped down beside the woman and placed down his chopping board.
He sliced and diced through the vegetables and into the wok they went. He stirred the dish with his wooden spoon while he had Beel preparing the pot for his soup. It took some time but the results were worth it. Before them was a plate full of steaming hot vegetables cooked in the finest of truffle oils, the only oil he had, as well as a large bubbling pot of mushroom soup that they had just pulled out of the fire.
With three bowls in front of him, two "normal sized" and one tiny one he usually reserved for his dipping sauce, he started filling them up. He scooped up a generous helping for each bowl before placing a large serving of bread for them to eat with. He divided up the stir fry into three portions before placing them onto their respective plates.
He handed Beel her bowl, with her scarfing down its contents without much prompting, before he handed over the gretchin's portion. It stared down at the food before staring back at him. He sighed as found some sticks and promptly fashioned some chopsticks for the creature to use. "Here," he said as he handed the makeshift implement to it. It looked at the two sticks before spearing the vegetable with the jagged end and started eating with gusto. He had worked him like a slave, now he was rewarding it for their good work.
"Huh, awfully generous of you. I thought your kind ate the small ones for fun?" Beel asked as she chewed on some edible spoons he baked for her. Making a hard tack like bread in the shape of a spoon was easier than he had expected as he only needed a mold for it. Now, he didn't have to worry about her melting through his utensils. There was still the matter of bowls having to deal with her acidic spit but it was far less destructive than the direct contact involved in utensils.
"That's the others when they're hungry, but I'm not like the others." He replied as he gave himself some flattering praise. He tipped his head backwards as he downed the hot soup into his awaiting maw before he sighed out in pleasure as he emptied his bowl. Tearing off some pieces of bread, he started wiping the leftover soup, "They resort to using their fists first most of the time rather than their heads. Gretchins work better if they're expect to be fed afterwards. It's not their fault that they don't realize this."
"The first time an ork wakes up, the first thing they'll experience is violence. To be able to feed, they have to fight for their first taste of food. Starving? Too bad, you have to take it and once you're strong enough to do so, solving everything with violence becomes almost all too easy. You'll default because what would doing something empathetic give you? I'm not saying orks are incapable of seeing the wisdom of the carrot but it takes a special ork to think further than the length of their arms and weapons; and it doesn't help that you literally become stronger from a fight so yeah." He mused out as he chewed on the stir-fry he cooked. He really wished he had soy sauce, or anything salty for that matter, but he had to make due with what he had. He then noticed Beel staring at her with a surprised look on her face.
Shaking his head, he waved off her concerns as he added "I apologize for my rambling. It's just an observation I had from living with my kind. Hey, we have some downtime between fights. It's not all fighting." Contrary to popular belief, orks did have down time but that was mostly sleep, eating and preparing for the next fight mostly; his was spent thinking.
"You are by far the smartest ork I've ever encountered." She commented as she started eating her stir fry.
He snorted at that as he set his plate down. He had finished his meal and now and now, he'd enjoy the leftover milk he still had after cooking. He still had half a bottle and he wanted something sweet, "Not that much of a bar considering my brethren's mental aptitude," he then said before downing his drink.
"Awww don't be like that! Take it as a compliment,~" Beel replied as he poked his side. He merely chuckled at that. For a daemon, Beel was really nice and to be honest he appreciated that. Lowering his guard around her was suicide, yes, but atleast he had some piece of mind knowing if Beel wanted to turn on him, she wouldn't be a sneaky git about it.
Their meal continued in relative silence after that with the Gretchin being the last one still left eating. He poked at the fire pit as he stared at the creature, "You know, I really need to name this git," he remarked. It was tiring to call it this creature or that thing. It needed a good proper name.
The gretchin perked up from its meal just as it was swallowed a leafy cap. It looked at them unsurely before they slowly pulled their bowl away from them and guarded it with their body. He chuckled at the gretchin's futile efforts. He was glad that he didn't decide to end this thing's existence.
"Ohhh! Name him Mortimer!" Beel suggested as the gretchin looked back and forth between them.
"Why would I waste a perfectly good name on a gretchin? I'm generous when it comes to these gits, but I'm not that generous," he argued. Yes, Gretchins were intelligent but they were more like monkeys, really smart monkeys with the same morals to boot which was effectively nill. Besides, he had a better name in mind.
"Then what do you have in mind?" Beel then asked as she pouted at him.
Pulling away the stick he was using to prod the fire pit, he blew on it before poking the gretchins forehead with it. It looked up at the stick pressing up against its forehead with incomprehension, "This git came from the dirt and he'll work the dirt from this day onwards. Eventually, he'll come back to the earth and that'll be the end of him. Since you're from the dirt and of the dirt, I shall name you Dirt." He proclaimed. Dirt would be their name and it shall be what he'd call them every single time. He was merely dirt to him after all, nothing more nothing less.
"That's kinda mean," She huffed out, criticizing him for his naming convention. Clearly, however, she didn't know how things worked among Orks. He grinned at her before gesturing at the wide eyed Dirt as they slowly placed their plate down.
"Bozz named me Dirt? Bozz named me!" Dirt exclaimed as it leapt off its seat and danced around in happiness. He wasn't just merely named by any other ork, he was named by the biggest and baddest ork there was in the vicinity. Beel gave Dirt a look of bafflement as she tried to process what she was seeing.
"Big bozz fed me and named me! Big bozz is bestest bozz there iz!" Dirt further proclaimed, as it hopped around with a big grin on its face.
He turned towards the confused daemon and asked, "You were saying?"
"Oh you know what I meant. Names are sacred, you know," she grumbled out as she huffed her cheeks, clearly upset about it. He could empathize with her on that but she wasn't really seeing things how he saw it just yet. Maybe with time, she'd come to realize why.
"Awfully kind for a demon," He pointed out.
She merely smiled back as she lectured him "Not every daemon is an ass, but this daemon certainly has one.~" He groaned out as she laughed at his expense, of course he had to get the horny little minx of a daemon.
"God damn it woman…" He muttered out. Just when he was getting used to her, she threw these little curveballs at him. Would he ever get used to her as his housemate?
-x-x-x-
With harvest done faster than he had anticipated, he was left with a lot of free time. He decided to be productive as he took Beel and Dirt with him on an expedition out into the metallic waste land that was the hulks' surface. Twisted remains of countless ships littered the surface of the hulk making hills and valleys. In one of these gullies, he trekked through in search of a particular spot to harvest water from.
"Hey Magsnik… you used Milk in the mushroom soup last night right?" Beel piped up as she adjusted the pack on her back. All of them carried harnesses to carry blocks of ice with. He had to make Dirt a small one just before they went out. Every last bit was precious and he did not want to go underground to find more. Who knew what lurked beneath the surface? He had a feeling, though, that the hulk surrounded a protoplanet the size of Ceres by his guesstimate. How else could he explain the weird gravity?
"Yeah. What about it?" He asked as they got closer to their destination. There up ahead was a white column of glistening crystal spilling forth from the side of a ship.
"Do you milk squig's?" She then asked him to stop dead in his tracks. He turned around as she gave him this serious look which only made him burst out in laughter.
"Bwahahahah!" He bellowed out in full bellied laughter as the daemoness turned an amusing shade of red.
She stomped on the ground and pointed at him, "Oh come on, I'm not omniscient you know!" She squawked out as she fumed.
He shook his head as he assured her, "Nah, I just find it funny that it took you this long. At least I didn't have to save a squig from you trying to milk it." And wasn't that a story he wanted to tell? He couldn't fault them, however, as Squigs did come in hundreds of various forms. There were even hair squig's and boy was he glad he didn't have one on him when he decided to book it.
"But you have milk. It's as creamy as most milk, it looks like milk, and it doesn't have a nutty taste to it. Where do you get milk?" She questioned as she got over her embarrassment.
"Oh that? I got it from a mushroom tree's fruit. It's kinda like coconut with a hard outer shell to protect its juicy interior. You just have to pasteurize it to avoid its spores from taking hold and bursting out of your stomach," he explained. He would have been in agony if he didn't prepare his milk properly. Freezing also helped but not as much as heating it up.
"Of course it does. I'm surprised your garden hasn't tried killing you yet." She mentioned jokingly.
"You did remember me warning you about the cabbage-heads right?" He reminded her. Unfortunately for her, an orkish ecosystem would remain hostile even if they took the garden variety version.
"You…you weren't joking were you?" She asked as she stumbled on a piece of rock jutting out of the ground.
"Not one bit." He nodded sagely. One must never be too careful when it came to the farm of an ork. Just because it was edible didn't mean you could just eat it. Only a few orkish fruits were edible right away and they were rare due to how they were out-competed by their more virulent cousins.
It didn't take long for them to reach the foot of the glacier. It was a large pillar of ice jutting up several hundred feet into the air. He didn't know how old the vessel was, but it was damn old because he could see that it sported letters he could recognize; this was not the blocky imperial text that was spreading around but good old fashioned english. He could even make out the name from down there thanks to his sharper sense.
He gestured at the ship named Ever Given and the frozen pillar of ice it made before saying, "And here we are! The Northern Glaciers. This is where I get my water." He waddled up to the bottom of the pillar and found himself face to face with the opaque ice. The foot of the pillar was wide enough that he didn't worry about causing a collapse just yet and thick enough that it towered over him. This ship must have been a dedicated water carrier from the Dark Age of Technology. Why was it carrying this much water? He did not know. Maybe it was water from Fiji?
"That's kinda boring, it doesn't give this glacier character. I mean look at it, it's a glacier formed from water spilling from an ancient cargo container! It's almost as if this is a scene from a mythical story!" She criticized, clearly unimpressed with the name that he had given to the glacier. She did have a point, however, his name was pretty boring. In his defense, he didn't expect people to actually find him so there wasn't a point.
"Come to think of it, yeah, it kinda does suck. I think I'll call this Ymir's Glacier then," He relented before suggesting a better name.
"Ohh Fenrisian. I love their theme park. It's a shame they had to close down." She sighed out making him turn towards her just as he was about to hack away a large chunk to carry away. He might have to ask about that later. She was a daemon after all, she probably saw a lot of stuff happen.
"Something like that," He shrugged out as he went to work. Carving a block of ice so he could carry it was a necessity if he wanted to have more drinking water. If he made an unbalanced ice block, he'd be constantly tipping over. He carved a chunk larger than he was before making smaller ones for Beel and Dirt.
With their cargo strapped to their backs, they made their trek back. The walk back home was uneventful compared to the trip there. There was no sight worth pointing out nor any interesting talking point worth remembering, especially with the heavy weight on his back. He was far too busy helping Dirt along to start an intelligent conversation.
"Remind me to never bring you along again!" he groaned out as he slammed the block of ice he carved inside a wide rimmed barrel. There was more than enough space for the other blocks as well. Covering was a problem but he didn't worry too much about it as it was far away from the Squigs or where he composted his refuse.
"Yes Bozz!" Dirt panted out as he dragged himself away so they could finally rest in the shed they called home.
He shook his head as he brought out his hammer so he could shatter the ice to make it melt faster. More surface area after all was the best way to make it melt faster. Before he could even think of raising his maul however, his house mate called for him.
"Hey Magsnik, it's Board Game night? You coming or what?" Beel shouted from inside his home. She really had made herself at home on his farm, hadn't she? Well, at least she was a worthwhile person to talk to. He didn't have to resort to making a Wilson after all. He walked away, leaving the ice inside the barrel.
If he had ignored her calls, Magsnik would have seen two pairs of glowing eyes open from within the ice. The chunk cracked as a delicate feminine hand made of metal reached out and started clawing around to try and find some purchase to grab on to. It seemed that he had brought something more than ice and it wouldn't be until the next day till he knew what had come to his farm.