"You know what. We all need to drink water," Anthony said, carrying another full load of two buckets on the yoke he found scavenging.

"Yes. But you can let some of us help you bring water to the inn," Stella said. "You're a strong guy, but you don't need to go it alone. And this isn't me yelling at you because Sonya said to."

"Right," Anthony said, draining the second bucket into the clean glass pitchers.

"You have magic," Finley said, "Why don't you use it?" He took the pitcher out from the inn's common room, where he set it by the door, returning with a rag. He passed a clean rag to Stella.

"As I said before to someone, who won't dignify me with showing her face right now," Anthony said, "I want to carry it."

"I heard that," Sonya's muffled voice came from outside of the kitchen.

"I'm not an old fart. I'm barely forty five."

"Says the man who has a father-son business," the muffled voice said.

Stella and Finley amped up their cleaning.

"Her snark knows no bounds," Anthony muttered. "I like it."

Humans were strange. Especially these chosen heroes. Finley wanted to be content to let them pass arguments back and forth. But while he worked but he needed to make sure that they were making some progress. He didn't want to be in charge, but he did want a say.

The tables were all done, so Finley stretched a bit. The benches and chairs would be next. He grabbed one of the many chairs and began to clean off the dust and dirt.

"Is this a common mating thing among humans?" Finley said to Stella.

"No," Stella said, "they're both on edge because of last night. When you get that close to death, your priorities change. I could die tomorrow. Heck, I could have already died. Sonya was talking about how that made her feel and then she saw him brooding and also working and well here we are."

"Ah. I see. Then they'll do some customary mating dance, correct?"

"Gods no. Whatever would give you that- oh you're really funny," Stella said.

"It's totally what I hear humans do here. They have these big balls and for some reason they all need to dance with them? It has never made sense to me."

Anthony loaded up his equipment to return to the river. Finley and Stella placed a bucket on each side of the yoke, making it easier for him to carry on.

"Anyway, with Sonya and Sophie started on lunch have you got any idea if we can make something out of that pile of wood? There's two good axles and enough wheels if we can figure it out."

Finley shuffled in his pockets. He pulled out an iron card, passing it to her.

"I'll do you one better. This one? It's uncommon, making it slightly stronger, though it would be strong as a common. But, see the effect."

Stella looked into the card.

"Wood crafting? Oh this is great! And what does level one mean? I mean all of my skills are level one right now but... How high does it go?"

"This one can go up to level ten. But since it's uncommon, we can find four other skills and turn it into a class card, giving it extra bonuses. I haven't merged a card in a while but if we get this to the artificer, maybe he'll be able to use both sets of skills together."

"What kind of class would have a woodworking skill?"

Finley paused his work on one of the better chairs.

"An artisan class? Martial class cards like yours are rare. It's far more common for someone to have a heirloom class card that their parent passes down. Something like a farmer or a laborer that works with their hands. Try not to think so much about combat classes. They're a rarity, or at least they were."

"I didn't think about that. It's good to know that we can do more than just stab things here. Although the current situation kind of makes it necessary," Stella said, holding up the cleaning bucket, "Do you think that our friend would mind taking this back with him and cleaning it out?"

She tossed the dirty water out the front of the inn, narrowly missing Bob.

"Oh hey Bob! I almost sneak attacked you there. You should probably watch out."

"Sorry, Stella. I could announce myself. It just sounds like a lot of work, when I could just dodge."

"I'll aim better next time because my sneak attack leveled up from that."

"Stella!" Bob said, taking off his cloak to make absolutely certain that it was dry.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"What? I wanted to see if it would work and it does!"

Finley chuckled. He had heard of skills leveling unintentionally. He hadn't heard of someone leveling a combat skill through tomfoolery. Not that it was impossible.

"If you can do that with him," Finley said. "And it has to be a sneak attack, there's a few more people coming. What level is your skill?"

"Level two."

"Let's see if we can get it to level three."

---

Bob, former chef and current chosen ranger of Mork, apparently did have time for tomfoolery. As people arrived for lunch, he waved them over to come in through the exact doorway that would provide for an ambush. Stella for her part got almost half of people that returned, though she used an empty bucket.

It wasn't until the artificer threatened violence that she stopped. The part about him ending her line hit particularly close.

"Why is it that you think I'm even going to have a line? My mom is back on another planet. Also we're no contact because fuck that bitch."

"Stella!" Bob said, "Language!"

"And you are not my dad."

"You both probably need to go blow some steam off," Finley said eyeing Bob and Stella

Bob had never experienced what Stella had gone through and was having difficulty relating to her experience. Mork only knew that he would never let himself be captured alive. At least after seeing all of the people in cages, he knew that he would rather die fighting.

"Yeah probably," Bob conceded, "This has been a wild two days."

The meal that Stella had prepared was about the tastiest thing that she had eaten in what felt like ages.

"Hey guys. Not to get too existential on you, but are these the same bodies that we had on Earth? Because, like, I died. I was just thinking about how good this meal was," Bob said.

"That's a little heavy for lunch, Bob. We can trade death stories when we get to know each other a bit better."

"Sorry Stella. Maybe after a brew. If we ever find a brewery."

Stella patted him on the shoulder after she got up.

"Hey, so since I cooked you guys got the cleanup right?" Stella said.

The group grumbled but eventually when they finish eating started cleaning up. Then a few of them picked rooms upstairs. Bob didn't feel like he was ready for that kind of commitment. They still had half the town to search. With a full stomach they might even get it done by night. Especially if they pushed it.

---

It was late afternoon by the time they had gone through all of the houses. Finley hadn't expected much, but to find nothing? It was as if the families had gotten notice-that stood out the most. Things were missing, most notably people. If any of the families had a card library, those were gone as well, though shelving was still there.

They had decided to stay the night. It was about that time that Finley found that there was another cart. It was serviceable though not covered. It even had all the important pieces to harness up a horse or two. He slotted the woodworking card into his side deck. The artificer had been working on all of the moving pieces while he made more benches.

Once the benches were done, he would move on to some sort of covering. There was enough tarp material to do so and he would make a fully enclosed space for sleeping and storage. His storage skill pinged, letting him know that it would be easy to add some storage under the bench.

If only he had a cryomancer skill or a spatial storage skill. He'd heard about wizards that kept items in containers that were larger on the inside than the outside, and he wanted that for himself. He wasn't sure if it was a card power or skill, but he had been dreaming of the idea when he made all of the cards he could.

All of the cards he had made that morning had been useful up to a point, but there was only so much that he could get out of a group of commons and uncommons. He had about half of the pieces needed to make a rare card.

Making a rare or epic card would do a lot to help his situation. Whatever he needed to survive, he wanted to do. Even if it meant listening to Stella and Bob talked back and forth about the right way to wash the dishes. As if there was a wrong way.

"Hey, Finley was it?"

The dwarf came up to Finleys chest. Finley didn't consider himself tall. His thin elvenoid body taller than most humans but still, only by a little bit. This dwarf for some reason, didn't have a long beard. Finley reminded himself that it took all types. He also had lighter skin and straight black hair. It reminded Finley of the mane of a horse with how straight it was.

"Yes. Andrew, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Stella gave me some stuff to work on with you and said that you were turning the stables into your workshop?"

He walked in, standing next to the wheel that just needed some tender love and care.

"Oh, this one is good. Just looking at it makes me itch to give it an enhancement. Hey, since I know you have a druid class card, I was wondering if I could lean on your mana."

"Ah, yeah that would be fine. Just don't take too much."

The dwarf walked over, holding out one hand, palm up.

"I haven't done this before so uh please bear with me."

Finley held a hand over the dwarf's, concentrating mana in that area. It took a few seconds, but a small green crystal formed between the two of their hands.

"Oh! That's pretty neat! I wonder what I can do with it?"

"Well, try and use it on one of the hinges maybe?" Finley said, "Isn't experimentation one of your skills?"

The dwarf frowned.

"It isn't? But I'll do just that and see what happens."

"Hey, uh did you get a woodworking skill?" Finley asked, "Because I made up a card with it. I can give it to you. I got it to level two already. That should help you out."

"Well if you're leveling it now, then keep it up. I can take it later. Maybe you'll make another?"

"I'll try. I'm out of pieces, though Bob has some that he is holding back."

"Yeah. He's a funny guy, that Bob."

"So, all the humans were talking about some place called Earth. I uh... noticed that you've been quiet especially at lunch. I thought I was the only one from here. I was just up at the Yilish mountain foothills and I didn't see you there. Are you from... here?"

The word 'here' carried a lot of weight in Finleys view. If the artificer was from this world, then he might know more about Dunnamore and the Irumian kingdom. So far he had been pretty quiet, and his lack of words said a lot. It was indeed a plethora of information that Finley had gathered from his being withdrawn from the conversation, though that could easily be explained by his being from another world.

"I-uh... Finley you're not going to say anything to anyone are you?"

"Of course not. If you want to keep a secret, well the Tinker code prevents me from spilling it."

The Tinker code prevented no such thing. What it did was outline how Tinkers were never to lie to each other, kill each other and how to greet another member of the family when out and about. There was a second set of codes that prevented Tinkers from killing enlightened beings to include all races they traded with, which was part of the reason that they didn't tread to the orcish lands far to the south. This second set gave the tinker a bonus to charisma at the expense of defending themselves, and also a skill that helped in money laundering. Only those that swore the second set of oaths knew about the specifics.

"I'm not from Earth. I'm also not from here," Andrew said.

"Oh. OH!"