Chapter 11

  Joe was staring at his armor on the anvil, it had only taken about 20 minutes to fix the rings on his armor. The thief had used poignards, allot of them, to stab him. They were designed to bypass armor by applying force to the smallest point possible. The rings had been stretched, but only a few were actually broken. Joe thought back on the fight, the thief must have been dumping almost all of his stat points into dexterity. A typical glass cannon type, all damage and no defense. He had to admit though, if the thief had started the fight with a backstab he would have most likely died. He needed to constantly remind himself the world had changed, he had been shot in Ramadi in 2006 and spent four months in the body shop. This time he had almost been killed and was on his feet ready to fight minutes later. Mentally pausing he reminded himself of the potions used, the limited potions. Their opponents this time were over twice their level, better gear and his First bonuses would only help them so much. Joe pulled the repaired armor on over his gambeson and headed for the door. Time for a meeting, they needed to level up, but first he needed to check on Grace.

He could feel Grace in the area behind the shop doors, and headed outside to see how she was doing. 'Okay, that's different' Joe thought as he stared at Grace while she was eating the Ogre. Part of him wanted to pull her off him, he was or had been human, but the newer part of him didn't seem to care. Grace had changed, and it wasn't just the armor, she had about doubled in mass and her head looked liked it belong on an oversized rottweiler. Thinking about it Joe realized Grace must need fuel for her growth. Staring at her a minute longer Joe decided, 'Fuck it.", turned around and headed back into the shop with a shrug. Looking around he spotted Andrew sitting on a couch, "Andrew could you gather everyone please? We need to make some plans."

 They spent the rest of the day loading up the wagons and searching nearby homes for supplies. The homes were empty of people, but from the blood stains and broken down doors he was pretty sure the owners were no longer among the living. Thinking of the vampire he really hoped they were not among the undead. Other then food they did find one thing that would make things easier. People in rural areas liked to use the remains of old farm equipment and wagons as decorations. In one of the backyards they found a good sized wagon that had been used as a raised flower bed. Once it was cleared off, a few rotted boards replaced and the wheels axles greased it was good to go. In fact with the new wagon they were going to have to leave one of the smaller wagons behind, which staring at the wagon useing weights for wheels was an obvious choice. It would take both Carl and Joe to pull the larger wagon. That would leave the smaller wagon to Rachel and the rest of the party could help as needed. What they really needed was horses, but every barn they had come across the horses had been eaten or had ran off.

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  Carl watched in amazement as his 400 pound forge anvil disappeared into his inventory. It took up one full slot but who cared? It beat the hell out of loading it and carrying it in a wagon. He filled the other five slots with his iron working tools. He found himself staring at his piles of coal when Joe patted him on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be able to make you a rune forge easy enough.”

  Carl turned to look at him, “How does a rune forge work?.”

  Joe replied, “Just a matter of choosing the right runes, then setting it up so you can use your mana ta power it. Should be a piece of cake, only down side you will need ta rest and recover your mana now and then. Beats the hell out of making charcoal and California is not a easy place ta find coal.” Clapping Carl on the shoulder Joe said, “Just focus on the things it will be hard for us ta replace, tools, your anvils, things like that.” Joe smiled as Carl started rooting around in his piles of metal and headed over to where his dogs were all watching the packing going on.

  Joe focused on Grace, she had changed more as the night progressed. It appeared as though the trauma had forced her to use the troll hide as a catalyst to evolve. Graces head was broader, her hair had turned green, and she had put on about 40 pounds of muscle. Grace had also gone through about 40 pounds of dog food. The weirdest thing was the armor was still attached to her, the mounting bolts and straps were all gone and he had no idea how the armor was staying in place. Considering he was now a dwarf he decided it didn’t really matter. If whatever the system was could change people races, turn the world into a damn game board, then making Grace into a mutant dog was not that big of a deal. He rubbed Graces ears and headed over to the piles of gear. They needed to get packed and on the road before anything else happened.