Chapter 21 - Billy Gets Crafty

Billy snuggled with a pillow in one of the communal sleeping areas in the ship. Well, outpost. Shitpost? Shippost. They should really get around to naming the place.

He rubbed his finger over his updated guild pendant, tracing the letter E with his thumb. The copper was uncomfortably warm against his skin. He missed his old wooden one, to be honest. Maybe he could get a custom pendant made with a B for Billy. That sounded cool. It might lead to some people assuming he was B-rank, though, so he scrapped that idea. Maybe a G for Guide? It’s not like it would get him into trouble if people assumed he was G-rank. Sure, a tiny portion of the population didn’t get a Gift, but it was almost as rare as meeting A-rankers in the countryside. He thought about it more as he enjoyed the surprisingly soft bed, letting his Gift blaze brightly every few minutes to work on his core’s regeneration and capacity.

After a few hours, he couldn’t help but get antsy. And hungry. The constant mana usage was slowly carving a hole in his stomach. He popped above deck and started exploring the outpost, snooping around. It had grown much faster than he thought. In the few hours he had spent below deck, half of a wooden palisade had been erected around the outpost, leaving ample room to build within the walls. A single stone tower had been built facing the forest. Atop the tower was a pair of very familiar antlers, crackling with electricity. Billy grinned at the sight. Any monsters attacking the outpost would be in for a surprise.

Workshops were starting to pop up, too. A slice of the outpost, the portion farthest away from the ship, had been paved with sturdy slabs of solid stone. Forges, a tannery and other crafting stations were cropping up in the paved section, clearly reserved for the less combat-oriented members of the outpost.

Billy approached a food stall, attracted by the scent of roasting meat. A tall man in a dirty apron was busy rotating skewers of meat over a coal fire. As he saw a customer approach, the chef expertly dual wielded metal spatulas, clinking and clanking them against the counter, the grill, a few pots and pans and some vegetables. He effortlessly diced an onion with the side of each spatula before scraping it off into a bowl with a flourish.

Billy’s stomach growled at the smell. No, the aroma. It wafted from the skewers. Meaty meatness and something spicy. Maybe… Seasonings? Yes. Delicious skewers of meat seasoned with seasonings. It was enough to make the boy drool. He exchanged pleasantries and currency with the man, walking away with four skewers as loot from his battle well fought. He devoured the first two skewers. They were fantastic. The cubes were slow roasted to perfection, the meat expertly cooked, absolutely void of any juices to prevent messes. It tasted of home. As the tender pieces flaked off in his mouth, crumbling with meaty goodness, Billy picked up underlying notes of bark, smoke and seasonings. Surely, this was a masterpiece, crafted by a master craftsman.

Again, Billy regretted not having a spatial bag. Some bags were enchanted to not only hold more stuff, but could also keep food fresh and hot or cold, preventing it from spoiling. Roland’s bag could hold a lot of loot, but didn’t preserve food. As such, they had turned in all of their looted monster meat for extra guild credit. It was alright, though, as most resources were being bought up at a premium since the outpost needed to get its sea legs quickly.

Over the next few days, Billy, Rhinus and Roland visited the meadow once a day to check for any new animated oak trees. As it turned out, a single tree and a single murder rabbit spawned each day, giving the party easy targets to practice on. They tested a few combat formations and skill combinations, but Roland ultimately used his daily vial of dragon’s piss each time, easily finishing off the lumbering oaks.

With a farming spot locked down, they each steadily grew in power. Roland kept up his experimentations, growing his core until he could afford to make two vials of explosive liquid a day, once in the morning and once before bed.

At Billy’s urging, Rhinus purchased and absorbed an ability stone that the guide had picked out for him. It manifested on his arm as shimmering chevrons of silver and gold. He was a bit dodgy about the description, but it seemed to give him a certain control over metals. A few times, Billy swore he saw the tank move metal without even touching it. Rhinus also went out on more forays into the forest with other parties, particularly focusing on missions that brought back stone. Not ability stones, just regular blocks of stone.

A work crew boarded the Schooner or Later and methodically cut out the piece of the deck where the ritual that had teleported them all had been performed. Marit, in particular, had been sharking around that spot, constantly examining it for something. Billy wasn’t sure what the lizardman was up to, but he figured the wood had been affected in some way by the tricolored beacon.

The slab of decking was placed in the middle of what grew to be the stone foundation of a church or temple of sorts. Eventually, three altars were placed, even before the building had walls. They were little more than stone slabs, but each glowed with a distinct magical signature.

The altar that softly glowed red had grooves cut into the top in an intricate pattern, all converging on the middle of the altar, where there was a small hole that led into the stone. Billy couldn’t help but think it looked like someone made a labyrinth in a restaurant’s sink. Around the altar were carvings of anvils, serpents, blood sacrifices, fields of crops both lush and decimated and clouds raining onto a desert. Or showering it with blood, it wasn’t clear to Billy. The red tinge it all had made it possibly more sinister than it was meant to be.

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The second altar, predictably, glowed a dark blue. It had carvings of feathers and jewels, of talons and shrouded figures. On top of the altar, there was a single box next to three slits in the stone of varying sizes. Coin slots, Billy figured. He wasn’t sure if you were supposed to put coins in the slots and open the box to reveal a prize, or if you were supposed to put offerings in the box. Probably shiny ones, if he were to guess.

The third altar didn’t necessarily glow. It was more like it sucked up all the light from around it in a cliché display of doom and gloom. If there were any carvings on the altar, Billy couldn’t make them out. He did, however, see the outline of an object atop the altar. Well, maybe a piece of an object. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach when he looked over at it, as he had a hunch he knew what it was. He was almost positive it was a sleeve torn from a shirt or a jacket.

Billy hadn’t ever really prayed to a god before. He knew that they existed and had seen clear evidence of their help and meddling. They gained power through worship, sacrifices, offerings and territory. He wasn’t exactly sure how that last one worked, though he was sure he would find out soon with the construction of the temple. Certain people accumulated favor through worship and used that favor to influence the world, like a second mana pool. It was like mana cultivation, though, in that it limited your future choices by locking you out from other sources or gods.

You could also bind yourself to objects or even places. Billy had suspicions that Montgomery or Captain Hustak were bound or would bind themselves to the outpost as soon as it cemented itself more firmly. The individual would grow in concert with the bound place, which also left room for a whole lot of vulnerability. Any hits to the outpost would be hits against whoever was bound to it. It was the same concept for items, though that was more taboo. Sure, a paladin of the Light could bind themself to a holy-aspected sword and it was fine. It was greeeat. It was noble! But if the object didn’t absolutely scream “I help people,” or if it was a non-light aligned elemental, most people feared such a bond. They branded the bonded as warlocks (pejorative) and despised them for it, despite the similarities with all other kinds of bindings. It was propaganda and everyone knew it, but it didn’t change the fear.

Billy decided to go shopping to improve his mood. He had expanded his core several times over since his first days at the outpost and still had a bunch of wealth to blow. He approached Montgomery when she had a minute and had her lay out ability stones that were within his budget.

She placed over a dozen stones on the counter. They were all unidentified, since the identified stones went for much steeper prices. They also excluded any stones that had the possibility of being holy or healing oriented. Those were normally reserved for special circumstances. Probably circumstances involving nepotism. Either way, those kinds of ability stones weren’t normally available for purchase.

Billy looked over the stones, his Gift ablaze, focusing on finding useful abilities. He instantly made a pile of stones and pushed them back to Montgomery. Not those. He was left with five stones on the counter. He tried focusing his Gift on finding combat-oriented stones. He got a somewhat vague impression from three of the stones. What about the best of the lot? No answer. One that increases speed? Two kinda, maybe sortas. The most versatile? Eeeh, they all seemed equally versatile to his Gift.

He tried combinations and variations, searching with his Gift. Eventually, he was left with two options:

The first ability stone was the stone he had seen before, the one looted from a human. It was a dull gray with just the slightest hints of purple. If he concentrated really hard, Billy thought he could almost hear voices coming from it. He got the most blips from that one from his Gift, though no really strong reactions for anything he tried. Montgomery begrudgingly admitted that nobody had wanted to absorb the stone due to its taboo nature. That part really didn’t bother Billy. People were weird and had their biases. He had some, too, just different ones.

The second ability stone was a kaleidoscope of shifting colors. It had been looted at the end of a dungeon of mazes made from twisting mirrors and filled with strange, laughing humanoids. Nobody had picked it up yet, since gambling on a vague ability stone rarely panned out. Well, except for in stories where the hero always made implausible decisions that always ended well. Montgomery would keep it as a mystery for another week or so before sending it off to be properly identified. The problem was that some stones broke the general rule. Not all identified ability stones were worth more than unidentified ones. Some were functionally worthless or so specific as to be unusable. Not many people wanted upholstery-focused abilities, and those that did could rarely afford to spend silver, let alone gold on anything.

Billy had one advantage, however: Plot armor. His Gift. Through the process of elimination, he determined that this ability stone would grant him some sort of crafting skill. He couldn’t narrow it down more than that, but it was enough. A frontier outpost was a crafter’s wet dream, after all. Those present could pick over loot and new kinds of materials before they got sold to their home continent.

His decision made, Billy purchased the kaleidoscopic ability stone. Before he could slink off to use it, Montgomery held him back.

“Hey, before you go…” He couldn’t really read the expression on her face. “You obviously have a method to sort through these.” It wasn’t a question.

Billy shrugged. “I can’t get specifics, but, well, yes. I can sort through them somewhat.”

He had no problem identifying that look. He should know, he was a big fan of a shit-eating greedy grin. It was one of his best looks, after all.