Chapter 4: Buckle
The water goblin didn’t move much, nor did the back of their head seem nervous. The head simply tilted a bit and a pronounced chin pointed over at a large toad sunning in a shallow pool along the waterside. “Willy ‘n I was curious if you were gonna introduce yerself, or just slink off Monday March. I’m fine fer some quiet conversation, so long as we don’t scare the fish away.” Raising a hand with short but well groomed claws, the goblin did a short wave over his shoulder. “Name’s Buckle. What kinda talkin’s were ye hoping to do, Monday March?”
The goblin named Buckle did seem a bit more startled by the low gentle chuckle that came from behind him. “Too much to ask or remember, probably. Thank you for your civility, Buckle, and hi Willy.” Rustling noises arose from the brush as my tall grey self made my way to the shore. “Pardon my state of undress, Buckle. I seem to have awoken around here without much of anything, nor a good sense of where we are.”
Slipping my large grey feet quietly into the water, I sat down in the sun on a shallow rock about 3 to 4 meters from Buckle and Willy.
“Tall drink a water, aintcha? Well, yer smack in the middle of almost nowhere. East a here a few days is the Kingdom of New Yosemite, avoid headin’ northwest or ya get smack dab in the Sacramento Badlands, further west and a smidge south is Big Bay. That help?”
Something faint wells up in my memories, rather like I had memories of all the names I’d been pondering earlier, “Hmmm, old California is it?”
Buckle looks over and squints at me, thin scale like iridescent skin shining around his watery eyes. “E’en more ‘n what you look like, huh, Monday March? Yeah, former Cali, but ‘round here goes by Cecal nowadays. So, what’s yer plan now? Ye said som’in about finding yer footing? Village about 2 hours walk, I kin give ye directions… Folks there aren’t entirely unwelcomin’.”
I nodded, “Thanks, that would be helpful. But I’d rather not go there looking for a handout, probably make it a bit easy to be taken advantage of. Anything in these parts that might be of some value that folks find too troublesome to do themselves?"
Pondering for a few seconds and checking to make sure his hook still had bait, Buckle looked pensive before talking again. “Lass, yer nekkid as a jaybird and asking a stranger fer help. Now I ‘preciate the forward thinkin’n all, but what would cause ye to think I’m a trustworthy sort?”
Thinking back on my status page I shrug and reply “Point me to some nearby giant blooded and I’ll get out of your hair, if you would rather?” I commented while attempting a friendly smile. “You have a toad companion or familiar, so you get on with nature all right. You knew I was about, but rather than acting to entrap or attack me you allowed me to decide if I would address you, possible entrapment, but at least a patient kind. Your clothing is clean and cut to your size, not something stolen or hand-me-downs. Your claws are manicured and your fishing pole is well cared for by its appearance. You are doing well enough that I’m unlikely to be of any real value to you… Or maybe I am, but is it better for me to try and survive in the woods on my own than hope for a little bit of civility from the first sentient I find?”
Nodding quietly, the goblin doesn’t say anything.
“Additionally, you didn’t just point me towards the village you spoke of which makes me think you are either interested in helping me more, or perhaps some mutually beneficial arrangement. So do you have something that needs doing?”
Grinning widely and displaying some rather pointy teeth, Buckle speaks with a hint of humor in his voice. “Fine ‘nough, Monday March. I live not far from here, ‘n if yer as strong as ye look, I have a trade in mind for ye.”
“Let’s hear it, Buckle.”
“I’m a hunter, tanner ‘n leather worker. I live away from God’s Bath for a few reasons, but it means I got quite a haul of my winter work to deliver o’er there. Now, I’m not in a rush, as you could tell by my fishin’ but I can have it all ready to go by tomorrow noon. So here’s my offer; You chop wood fer me fer the rest of the day, in the morning you help with less exhausting chores that need doin’ but don’t take no real skill, you help carry my wares to God’s Bath tomorrow. In exchange I feed you two meals today, two meals tomorrow, I make ye somethin’ simple to wear from scrap leather fer you to keep, when we get ta God’s Bath I pay fer you to stay in the common house fer two nights with two meals from Gertie there. Deal?”
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Without bothering to think about it, I simply nodded. “I appreciate it. If that means you are done fishing, do you mind if I rinse off quick before we leave?”
Pulling in his string, the goblin just nodded and grinned. “Willy, croak if anythin’ tries ta sneak up on the lass.” moving on to gather and store his catch
A quick rinse later I offered to carry the stringer with 3 fish that Buckle was hoisting up from the water, he simply nodded and handed it over. It felt a little odd that the water seemed chill, but I wasn’t bothered by it at all.
Buckle led the way down a path that looked more like a game trail than a path, a small leather sack over one shoulder with his fishing pole leaning against it and Willy on the other shoulder.
With a glance at Willy who seemed to be staring at me, I spoke up, “So, other than Willy do you live alone, Buckle?”
After an unexpectedly long pause, Buckle finally responded. “Yes, but also no? I’ll, hmmmm. She’ll want ta meet ye anyhow, so yeah. It’s complicated, be introducing ye at dinner I guess.”
Coming around a bit of a turn in the path, I saw a small cabin, a shed, and a large low roofed building all surrounded by a wooden fence. The cabin was made with stacked logs for walls, but the shed and other larger building were a construction composed of slats of wood on top of a low mortared stone base.
Taking the fish and still ignoring my lack of clothing, Buckle gestured over to the shed. “Inside is an axe, and behind the shed are unsplit logs. I want em split at least as narrow as yer thighs, arm’s thick is better. ‘N ye can stack em up behind the house with the other split wood. Fish will be fer dinner, but I’ll grab you something right soon. The well is right there if ye need it, outhouse is on t’other side of the tanning barn, if ye don’t wanna use it I’d appreciate it if ye can pick a spot at least 20 paces past the fence.” Without another word Buckle walked off into his cabin with Willy and the fresh fish.
Going to the well first, I lowered a pail that I might be able to use as a helmet down into the water with a rope, pulled it up and drank most of the contents in a couple minutes while looking around the fenced area. It felt rustic, but not uncivilized. The most off putting part was a distinctively unpleasant smell that was likely from the tanning process I guessed was coming from the largest building.
Looking into the small shed I quickly found 2 axes among some other tools. Both axes seemed to be a bit small for me, but grabbed them both to see which would be best for splitting logs.
Something in my disjointed memories informed me of very basic axe usage, and I had split a few logs before Buckle returned. Somehow the knowledge that axes are levers on a pivot did not automatically improve my chopping process.
Buckle set down a wooden plate on a stack of unsplit logs. On the plate was a pair of small dried sausages, what looked like a slab of bread with a small knob of butter and three large raw carrots. On one side of the plate was a non food item, a strip of leather marked with lines and numbers. Beside the plate was a folded brown cloth and a pair of wooden clothespins.
“Monday March, before ye start eating can you give me some measures with that tape and use that,” pointing to the fabric and pins, “to make yerself a simple skirt? I’d not a thought it, but even I’m feeling a might awkward with ya running about ‘n working fer me in yer altogether.”
Laughing a bit I grabbed the fabric and shook it out to get an idea of the size, before wrapping it about my waist and pinning it in place. “Sorry about that, Buckle. You seemed un-bothered so I thought it wasn’t an issue for you, and you were making clothes for me so I wouldn’t have a bad start in the village. What measurements do you want?”
After providing some basic measurements, Buckle reclaimed the measuring leather and went back to the cabin, leaving me to my meal, and continued labor.
Chopping wood isn’t about overpowering the wood with personal force as much as it is about accuracy, and as the afternoon progressed I used less and less of my power in each swing. Power was a part of helping the axe defy gravity to start a swing from high up, but the descent and follow through were more about accuracy. For some reason I was reminded of a game called golf, image fragments of smooth green grass, little odd looking balls and crooked sticks flitting in my mind.
Though my muscles told my brain that they were being used, being worked, there was no pain. And though I expected a hot soreness and blisters on my hands, those never materialized either.
Taking another water break by the well, including dumping half a bucket over my head, I opened up my status and focused on the entry for race.
Giant Blooded - The blood of Giants runs in your veins, adding their strengths to the versatility of the more common races. What are the full capabilities of your bloodline? Only Achievements and XP will tell.
Current Racial Boons:
Minor Giant’s Body: +5 Physical Power, +5 Resilience, +2 Durability
Minor Skin of the World: Environmental hazards are simply less of a problem for a giant, lessens the severity of all hazards by a small amount, minor hazards become insignificant. Though nerve sensitivity remains, minor wounds like normal insect bites and small thorns will not damage someone with Skin of the World.
“Well, that’s pretty neat.”