Ripley surveyed the veins in the rock. There was indeed an abundance of metals and minerals. Rider had brought him to an old abandoned mine somewhere in the world. But the mine held much more than ores, there were crystalized minerals, and other crystals growing on the walls- things he would need to make the powder for his guns.

Time had made him stronger. In his previous life had not been very strong but now the many years of harsh conditions and hard work have made him tougher. He had grown to be quite athletic. Darker skin, dark brown hair and eyes, thin but not weak. He had a lot of endurance and physical strength despite not looking it. Having grown up with never quite having enough food had contributed to this. Ripley had been used to living on little food or sleep. He was much the same way in his previous life- when he was caught up in his work he would easily forget those things.

He was around fifteen or fourteen now. Not a child anymore and in these years he had managed to accomplish things with Rider’s help. A dome of brick and wood covered the tower’s ruined side. While he still lacked a lot of things Ripley felt he made significant progress. He made many additions over the years: shelves with books, lab equipment, mining tools and even crates of ores. Maps of the areas he’s been to and how to reach them littered multiple wooden tables. Outside, in a little garden, vegetable grew.

Survival had not been easy but Ripley felt that the worst was behind him. While had survived this far mostly on his own the next part of his plan was impossible without reaching out to the local crafters. He needed at least a blacksmith. Ripley had carefully drawn each component he would need crafter, described the process of refining some parts in the language of this world. Now he just needed to find someone who would do the work and not ask questions. This was the tricky part. He could not talk about gods or demons, he couldn’t mention other worlds yet the weapons he needed made were far beyond the technology and understanding of this world. Ripley was not rich in this life so he could not buy silence. His old self never used money for such matters but he was not above it now. It would be an easy solution. He had some unrefined gold ores in storage but he needed those for something other than monetary gain gold after all was a great conductor.

He looked around the village as he walked. Rider had concealed him from sight. Magic was a useful thing to have. Where he lived previously such a thing did not exist. The people here seemed to believe it, even hate and fear it. However Ripley saw no signs of them being able to use it themselves- so he dismissed it as a mere superstition. The demons most certainly held magical powers and the things Rider could do were also magic but neither were native to this planet. It was a good thing for him because it made things easier .You cannot deceive someone who is more knowledgeable than you are, only one who is more foolish.

He looked around the small village, taking note of the important places. He had found the smithy with relative ease. He also found other craftsmen whom he might use in the future. Ripley already planned for the things he might have to do if the blacksmith required some convincing. The people in the previous town were very quick to fright thus he assumed that these villagers would be no different.

It weighed on him, that he would have to do this but he could see no other way. Returning to the village under the cover of darkness and the spell of Concealment he carried the first blueprint with him as well as a dagger and several other things. The fire was still lit in the forge, the sounds of a hammer on metal rang through the dark. The window was open and Ripley easily climbed in. He griped in his hand a small bag of powder, nothing magical just a compound of minerals. He tossed it into the fire and quickly moved back into the corner. The fire began to hiss and rise up, flame changing color to deep blue and then it suddenly died down after its sudden flare up. The smith looked at it with great surprise and moved to try and save it from going out. Ripley moved. Dagger aimed at the man’s throat, but he carefully kept his distance from the man. It would be difficult to appear as a disembodied phantom with his body was physically touching the man.

"Who's ther?"

Ripley made sure to change his voice to sound more menacing.

"A messenger."

" Ar ye her ta rob me?"

"I am not some petty thief, mortal! I am a messenger from the gods. Now here me well! You have been chosen to craft the instruments of your world’s salvation!"

"So, ya won take meh moneh?"

Ripley was feeling increasingly frustrated with this man but kept up the act.

"You will do as I say and craft these tools for the Gods or terrible things will happen to you and your quaint little village."

The man was silent. Ripley took out the blueprints. It would seem they were manifesting out of thin air to the man if he could look behind.

"You will find the materials you need outside. You are to tell no one of this. If you speak of let anyone find out what you're making terrible things will happen. Work at night under the cover of darkness. I will be watching. You won’t know I'm there but I will be."

He drew away and moved out the window while tossing another bag into the fire. The flame lit back up. Ripley hoped he would not have to carry out his threats but he was prepared to do so if he had to. These people could ne be trusted because they were primitive, but they could be scared into following orders. It was not how he would have preferred to do things but he didn’t have time to sit there and explain. So far he had avoided danger but as the Rider had said, the mark on his back was a demons claim on him and any day he might decide to collect. Ripley needed his guns badly. He needed a way to defend himself. Then there was the matter of the Feasts. How many had taken place in the decade he was here? How many more people died as sacrifices? It made his skin crawl with disgust and his blood boil with rage. To Arayoch and his demons, humans are nothing more than playing things— existing to be slaughtered and tortured. Seeing how far this all went just made him angrier.

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“I thought I understood it before.” He thought to himself.” I was wrong. There is no great significance or meaning to all of this. All of this pain and suffering isn’t for some grand purpose. It’s all just meaningless. To them it’s just entertainment. There’s nothing noble in it no grand realization to be had.”

Ripley didn’t realize he said those out loud.

“Pray tell, what meaning could one possibly assign to suffering?” Rider asked.

“No, I was just reminiscing. When it all began. Things were peaceful. “

He tried to avoid thinking about the past as much as he could. Seeing Stella so happy on the day of their marriage. Those peaceful sunny days hurt too much.

“There was plague. It came suddenly. Seemingly overnight. People were dying and nothing worked in slowing it down. It spread rapidly and soon it was everywhere. The king gathered all the doctors at first but when they yielded no result he ordered everyone to work on the cure. I was among the many called to the castle. We were locked in the dungeons and told that we could not leave until we found a cure for the plague. That if we tried to run out families would pay the price. In the end some of us began to get sick with the plague. There were corpses of people who died being brought down for research. Some began to lose their minds, several committed suicide, some tried to run and were killed for treason. I thought I was going to die down there. Maybe it would have been better if I did. But then the dreams came. I could see myself making the cure from moldy bread. It was unthinkable, something so bizarre. The crazy part was that it worked. People were recovering and I was hailed as a hero. It was like all of my suffering had been rewarded.”

“How wrong I was.” Ripley choked back tears, slamming his fist against the bricks.

“You said your whole world died. You never told me how it happened. Did the cure fail in the end?”

“No. The cure worked. Our kingdom was quickly recovering. But the others around us we still suffering heavy casualties because of the plague. Our king refused to share the cure, hoping to weaken the strongest kingdoms and reestablish the balance of power in the region. “

“I see. “ The Rider chuckled.” Quite the ambitious man. I can imagine things did not go well for him.”

“He demanded a high price for the cure. So high that no one wanted to pay it. So the other kingdoms in their desperation united and hired mercenaries from uninfected regions – they waged war on us. Back then I still thought that I was somehow special, that all of my suffering was being rewarded. We seemed to be doing well in war but overnight it all changed. The plague began to go away on it’s own. People in other kingdoms were recovering without the cure. It seemed so unbelievable. Suddenly the countries we fighting had healthy soldiers to bolster the mercenary ranks. We were losing. The king demanded that all of those skilled in engineering be gathered. I was the hero who cured the plague. I was the first one called. He demanded a weapon be made that could turn the tide of battle in our favor. And soon enough I had a dream. I dreamt of myself making a gun. When I woke up I had all the knowledge of how to make one. I felt strange about these dreams. If only I had listened to that feeling. But I owed my new life to them. I had more money I could ever wish for, status, respect and a reputation to live up to. Brought my first gun before the king and soon there was a small group making them in secret. We were winning once more. “

“But you’re victory didn’t last did it?”

“No, it did not. Spies and secret agents from other kingdoms tried to steal the knowledge. Eventually, my very own best friend betrayed me and stole my designs," Among other things, he thought bitterly.

” The war kept going, now guns were becoming wide spread, designs different from the one I made began to appear. I realized far too late that I was not the only one who was having dreams. When I set out to stop it all– it was far too late. Weapons beyond guns were starting to emerge on the battle field. The landscape was devastated by the endless fighting. The former allies turned on each other on the end. People were starving and homeless. All the prosperity we once had was gone. Yet all the king cared about was the next big weapon that could win it all for him. I became a traitor to my country– I just wanted it all to stop. I still believed that I was some chosen one, someone special, that all this madness could be stopped,” Ripley shook his head.

“I was a fool. I traveled around, tried to destroy weapon factories, track down the people making them. It didn’t matter if I killed one or more. Somebody else would have dream of how to make more devastating weapons. I knew these dreams weren’t natural – they couldn’t be. Eventually I tracked down somebody who might have been among the first to have them. I found out that while I was the one who had dreamt of the cure, somebody else had dreamt up the plague. None of the people I confronted knew any more about the dreams. Only the Plaguemaker, he was the one who gave me the name Arayoch. There was no knowledge of such a being I my world. I tried to stop the war, I tried to find and stop the one responsible for it all. All of my efforts however were in vain. The weapons kept getting more and more destructive, more and more elaborate. Until they made one so powerful that it destroyed the entire planet.”

“You need no blame yourself,” the Rider said,” There was never any hope for you from the very beginning.”

Ripley closed his eyes to hold back the tears.

“I know that now. Even so, I cannot forgive him. What he did to me, to my home and what he is doing here. He is doing it to so many other people. I cannot sit by and let it happen. I despise Arayoch with my heart and soul and I will not stop until he is dead or I am.”

“You will need far more than guns if you wish to fight Arayoch. To reach him you will need to face his hordes of demons first. His countless soldiers, his lieutenants and generals– how do you plan to fight an army?”

“I don’t know,” Ripley said.” I need to figure out how effective my guns are against those things first. At first I would like to liberate this world from the Feasts. Perhaps once people saw my strength they would rally under me. “

“Such a thing would take decades to accomplish if not centuries.”

“I know,” he feels despair gnawing at his insides.” For now it’s all I’ve got.”

“If you’re serious about killing demons then you will need more than lead. Some species are weak to silver and some to iron. Water or soil from a secret temple can harm them greatly. Weaker species cannot walk on salt. The Hellbourne are immune to fire while others can be burned by it. Most magic will work on them if you could obtain such a thing,” The Rider said.

“Thank you. I will remember this.”

He began inspecting his resources of ore. Most of the iron he had was for making the gun. Silver he had only a few nuggets.

“I guess I need to the mines and get a lot more silver for the bullets. Iron won’t hurt either.”

“I’ll be leaving as well,” the Rider said.” There are some matters I must attend to. I imagine I will ne be back for a while however next time we meet I might have something interesting to show you.”

“I will look forward to it then.”

He watched the Rider takeoff . Ripley had gotten used to his company. Luckily Ripley had a lot of work ahead of him to keep him busy, so there would be little time to feel lonely. He will need to manage without Riders magic to conceal himself from sigh but he was certain he could think of something to trick the blacksmith with, after all he was a simple man who couldn’t tell science from magic.