CHAPTER 4: PICKING UP THE PIECES
The morning light revealed the full extent of the village’s destruction. Burned huts stood like blackened skeletons against the snow, smoke curling from the ruins. Villagers moved through the rubble, their faces grim, as they searched for anything salvageable.
John Harper stood in the middle of it all, feeling woefully out of place. His breath fogged in the cold air, and he tugged his hoodie tighter around him. The fabric was frayed at the cuffs, and faint scorch marks from the earlier battle marred the once-decent black material. Beneath it, he wore a patched-up wool shirt someone had given him, along with a pair of rough, oversized boots that were clearly not made for running, or surviving. His jeans, now torn at the knees, were stiff with dried mud and blood.
“I look like I got mugged at a thrift store,” John muttered, shaking his head. His reflection stared back at him from a puddle, gaunt and pale. His scruffy brown hair was matted with sweat, and the stubble on his face only added to the disheveled appearance. His hazel eyes, usually bright with sarcasm, seemed duller in the weak light.
The system interface flickered into his vision.
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[QUEST ASSIGNED: PICKING UP THE PIECES]
* Objective 1: Assist villagers with clearing rubble and repairing basic structures.
* Objective 2: Gather usable materials from the ruins.
* Objective 3: Convince at least two villagers to trust you.
Rewards: +100 EXP, +5 Reputation (Village).
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John sighed. “Of course there’s a trust meter. Can’t just win people over with charm these days.”
“John!” Freya’s voice cut through the air as she approached, her axe slung casually over one shoulder. She wore her usual leather armor, the scratches and dents giving it a well-worn, battle-tested look. Her wild blonde hair was braided to one side, and her piercing blue eyes practically glowed against the snow.
“Morning,” John said. “You look disgustingly well-rested.”
“Because I didn’t spend the night talking to myself and staring at invisible glowing boxes,” Freya replied with a smirk. “C’mon. Bjorn’s got jobs for everyone, and you’re not getting out of this.”
“Yeah, yeah,” John muttered, falling into step beside her.
The villagers were gathered near the largest intact structure, a longhouse that had served as a communal meeting hall. Bjorn stood on a makeshift platform, barking orders.
“We need those walls patched by nightfall! And clear the eastern path—if we’re attacked again, we’ll need a retreat route!”
His eyes landed on John, and he grunted. “Outsider. You’re with Freya. Start with the rubble by the smithy.”
John opened his mouth to protest, but Freya was already dragging him toward the ruins.
“Why am I always the one doing manual labor?” John grumbled.
“Because your skeletons don’t do carpentry,” Freya shot back.
They reached the smithy, or what was left of it. The forge was a mess of shattered stone and charred wood, and the faint smell of burnt metal lingered in the air.
“Alright, Bone Caller,” Freya said, leaning on her axe. “Let’s see what those fancy powers of yours can do.”
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John raised a hand and focused, summoning a single skeleton from the pile of debris.
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[RAISE UNDEAD ACTIVATED]
Mana Cost: 20
Remaining Mana: 80
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The skeleton emerged, its bones clattering as it stood. It wasn’t pretty, one arm hung at an awkward angle, and its ribcage looked more like a cracked birdcage, but it would do.
“Okay, buddy,” John said, pointing at the rubble. “Start clearing that out. Gently.”
The skeleton shuffled forward, grabbing chunks of stone and tossing them aside with surprising efficiency.
Freya whistled. “Not bad. Maybe you’re good for something after all.”
As they worked, John’s mind drifted. He hadn’t had much time to process everything since arriving in this world. Back home, he’d been... well, not much of anything. A mid-20s office drone with a dead-end job and no real prospects. He’d spent most of his free time gaming, binge-watching shows, and avoiding any meaningful responsibilities.
“I never signed up for this hero crap,” he muttered, picking up a charred plank.
“What’s that?” Freya asked.
“Nothing,” John said quickly. “Just... thinking.”
Freya arched an eyebrow. “That’s dangerous.”
John snorted. “Back home, my biggest problem was finding the right takeout place. Now I’m fighting wolves and raising skeletons. Life’s weird.”
“Life’s simple here,” Freya said, tossing aside a broken beam. “You work, you fight, you survive. The gods don’t care about your past, only what you do now.”
John paused, her words sinking in. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was his chance to do something that mattered, for once.
As the day went on, John’s skeleton continued clearing rubble, while John and Freya sorted through the debris for anything useful. A few villagers stopped to watch, their expressions ranging from wary to impressed.
By midday, John found himself repairing a broken fence alongside a man named Eirik, one of the village hunters. Eirik was tall and broad-shouldered, with a permanent scowl etched into his face.
“You fought well yesterday,” Eirik said gruffly, hammering a nail into place.
“Uh, thanks,” John replied, surprised.
“Your magic... it’s strange. Unnatural. But useful.”
“I’ll take ‘useful,’” John said with a small smile.
By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, the smithy was cleared, the fence was repaired, and John’s skeleton had hauled enough wood to build a small shack. He dismissed it with a wave, feeling the familiar drain of mana as the bones collapsed into dust, and wishing they didn’t deteriorate so quickly. He was thankful that the villagers were so pragmatic with the use of their dead.
Bjorn approached as they finished, his expression grim. “Good work. But we’ve got bigger problems.”
“Of course we do,” John muttered. “What now?”
Bjorn gestured toward the horizon, where the faint outline of a rider appeared. The figure approached slowly, their horse stumbling through the snow.
“It’s one of the scouts,” Bjorn said. “And he doesn’t look good.”
The rider collapsed as he reached the village, blood staining his furs. Freya rushed forward, helping him down.
“Raiders,” the scout gasped. “Bigger force... coming this way.”
John felt a chill that had nothing to do with the snow. Freya met his eyes, her jaw tightening.
“Guess your skeletons are about to get another workout,” she said.
John sighed, glancing at the system prompt that appeared in his vision.
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[NEW QUEST: “Prepare for the Onslaught”]
* Objective 1: Strengthen the village defenses.
* Objective 2: Gather intelligence on the approaching raiders.
* Objective 3: Defeat the raider force.
Rewards: +500 EXP, +10 Reputation (Village), Rare Skill Unlock.
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John groaned. “Of course it’s a rare skill. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Freya grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the tribe, Bone Caller. No time for rest.”
John sighed, rubbing his temples. “I miss takeout.”