Caravanning was boring, hence why we came up with a crappy song to break the monotony every now and then. We were close enough now, so we stopped and stared - the unspoken signal to start.
“Hey ho, hey ho, fuck ‘em up as we go.”
The beat picked up.
“Look at‘im there, standin’ all slick.
Show this prick a brand new trick!
As Viktor makes the throw, yo!”
We all watched in silence. He scored a clean hit as usual, so we continued on.
“Bop, bop, bop…”
The excitement faded and people broke off from the chorus. At least they declared me exempt from carrying duty, but also from getting paid for it. My offer of help, solely intended to make friends and avoid alienating people, was refused, which suited me just fine. Instead, my attention shifted to our ever-present enemies.
The local Errant consisted of the same black vinesnap-traps that obstructed my nighttime travels after escaping the bamboo thicket. Viktor jogged back after running ahead to collect the loot, short stretches of greenish ‘ropevine’. I spent some time playing around with two pieces and had to admit it was neat stuff.
Magic materials were truly magical, knotting two pieces turned it into one piece, reabsorbing the knot and refunding the length of it. Wanted it to be stretchy rope like climbing cord? Then it was. Didn’t want any give? No problem… Well, needed to let it go slack first though. Cut it up and put it back together again? No issues whatsoever. The possibilities were endless and once someone else figured them out, I’d happily reap the benefits of their hard work. Vik unveiled the mystery of what had been bugging me all this time as well, once asked.
“Hey Vik, you’re a smart man, have any ideas on what’s going on with how far we can see?” Always butter up to leadership, that’s how you got ahead in life.
“Is trick. See some thing but not other, look close when see next plant. Don’t know why. Ask nerds when home. I think magic. Also planet maybe bigger.”
“Will do, thanks.”
I kept a close eye on the horizon and then it dawned, only took being shoved into my face with absolutely nothing to distract me and a prompt from someone else before my mind really put it together. My visual range stretched excessively far, that much was obvious. What escaped my notice earlier was how the Errant just popped into existence from nothing, it should have been jarring but instead didn’t register at all. Only actively searching for something odd seemed to mitigate that. So I saw very far unreliably, great. Thanks System. Some more prodding revealed those with a primary of six - so ME - were better at spotting Errant at a distance.
Another song followed another kill. I had to admit, we lugged around an impressive haul of primarily magic materials. Not only could they be ‘adjusted’ to be lightweight with an appropriate crafting skill and tool, but they were relatively low-volume as well. Moreover, they didn’t need processing or refining, which saved massively on labor efforts and material costs.
We left behind some stacks of regular wood, arcane lumber and green nails for the next group. They’d refurbish the camp with those supplies. Aside from a stash of ingots, we had a stockpile of mystic rope, magic leather and regular hides, a box of greenly ice cubes and a small fortune in crystal cash, the monies were government owned though. While tax evasion appealed, I threw in a tenner as a show of good faith. Shared burdens make lighter loads, and friends.
The presence of hides prompted me to inquire after meat and it turned out most Errant were somewhat edible, if you could stomach the taste and manage to keep it down - not an easy task, apparently. It also tired you out rapidly and bunnycrab proved more exception than rule, so steak didn’t make the menu since the whole point of these trips revolved around productivity. Post-apocalyptic society was all about that efficiency, much the same as the old world. Right now our goal was to finish the entire walk to the village in one stretch, with short breaks for junk food lunches. We’d even march through the night, guided by persistent cantrip flares.
Pure mages had it especially rough due to their lack of natural physical endurance, but neither the rigors of travel nor the harsh, presumably cold, wind bothered our group too much. Folk were smarter than I typically gave them credit for though, general wisdom concurred that training physical stats made for a better life, and a longer one. The type of people who survived the new beginnings, rolled with what happened and crowded the front of the queue in pioneering a labor camp, in the fuck-all middle of nowhere, were incidentally the kind of people who acted on said wisdom. Who’da thunk?
Landmine flora filled the flat tundra plains as far as the eye could see. They weren’t so dense on our path and nearly absent close to the expedition camp, nicknamed ‘the Farm’. If this kept going the uncleared parts would get flooded over time. A few vinesnaps were a lot bigger than the rest too, one more question for Vik. The rest weren’t in the mood to talk, even Barry had shut up. That wasn’t much of a surprise though - people could only handle so many grueling workdays for so long until everyone turned into a singing zombie.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
I passed Vik the pipe. “How high does the merging of these things go?”
He took three quick puffs followed by a drag and a long exhale. “They go to fifty. Is worry for later. Another reason for Farm. Keep path open. But Mel have gardening plan, keep under control, yes?”
Concerning indeed. I spotted another, bigger flower bundle and took the opportunity to range out towards it. There were two central flowers, both low to the ground. Those were the parts Viktor targeted with his throws. A wooden cube flew out and triggered the living trap. Damn.
My reaction time and any related aspects improved as my physical speed went up and the effect had become quite pronounced by now. Despite my massive gains, the lattice snapped with ludicrous speed and like before it reset in seconds. The angry plant had gotten smarter, it only triggered after the cube reached a little ways in. Bad sign. At least the featureless tundra dirt and unnatural blackness of the vines made them relatively easy to pick out.
I might have been guilty of not giving supernatural bullshit the credit it was due. A report detailing everything up north to our head of state seemed appropriate. A lady called Melinda held the position - mayor, possibly competent, and appointed on account of being buddy buddy with Kristen
Kristen was the real big shot of our community - marine, killing machine, and apparently someone who had no problems with nepotism. The two hadn’t known each other before the end, no one knew anyone in fact. It was a sore spot for most and, along with anything pre-Godstrike, a minor taboo to talk about. Still, they just clicked. Kristen’s skillset transferred well enough that she became the strongest person in town damn near immediately. Some gossip even made the rounds about what her level would be when we got back, popular guesses pegged her around late-eighties.
Everyone started socializing again during our early morning lunch break. A ginormous lake in the lessening distance signaled that we were close to town. Work nearing its end always made people lively.
“I don’t get it. If she’s constantly out killing stuff, wouldn’t she be a lot higher?” I said while Barry passed the pipe to Bob.
“Ya thinkin’ wrong, she ain’t out alone. Got a group, means she gotta share. Can’t have someone hoggin’ everythin’ for themselves, eh?” Barry said.
Bob chimed in after passing it to me. “Mel and Kris want everyone to get stronger. They think things are going to get worse soon. It’s not just the plants you and Viktor were talking about. Right now the Errant are closer to a hazard. The message said they were threat, that we would need power. Most agree it’s a warning.”
Smoke accented my words. “To be fair, the System’s also frequently full of shit. Half this stuff doesn’t make any sense. But better safe than sorry I guess.”
Ah, familiar bossy yelling cut the conversation short. “Break over! Is time for marching!” I emptied the pipe, tapping it against my shoe and returned it to Bob. We all exchanged nods and took positions.
The density of vinesnap-traps decreased rapidly the closer we got. The village slowly sprung up in the distance. We arrived late afternoon, rather than in the middle of the night, thanks to our relentless pace. Exploration tempted me but would have to wait until tomorrow, probably wouldn’t take very long either but settling in took priority. But my first order of business was reporting to Melinda, the chief nepotism officer. Viktor had gone on ahead for similar reasons.
The entire village was pretty… much just a collection of wooden buildings and muddy pass-throughs. At least they kept the squalor in check, didn’t smell much worse than your average outdoor festival. There were some bigger buildings in the center, smaller ones on the outskirts, and outbuildings away from the village. No guards or walls, except for a singular, multi-story watchtower. About half the buildings were ramshackle, while the other half looked pretty sturdy. Worksites abounded and the place reminded me of a buzzing beehive, people keeping busy all over the place - mostly.
We brought our palanquin of goods to the central warehouse. I said my goodbyes to most while hanging around with Barry and Bob for another smoke. Viktor hadn’t finished his report yet, so a tiny bit of exploration happened anyway. Since Barry promised to share his lodgings with me, he tagged along and pointed things out here and there - de-zombified once more.
“Them there’s the longhouses. It’s where ya’d be sleepin’ as a new arrival.”
These piqued my curiosity, as they’d come up in conversation before. I stood firmly in the camp of rebelling against our apparent powerlessness and had difficulty believing that many did not give a damn.
“More people than I expected, doing nothing. They just give up then?”
“Some folks havin’ a harder time adjustin’ than others. Mel’s trynna get everyone somethin’ to do but they gotta want it. I know it ain’t easy but there’s no denyin’ that the only thing to do with the past is to let it go. Otherwise future’s gonna end up the same.”
“Well shit, yeah. Maybe a bit fucked but I’m glad not to be sleeping there, the depression feels contagious.” Everyone hurt badly, but Barry was right.
“Nah, I get ya. Accordin’ to Bob, Mel’s gonna put ‘em to work at some point. They’re bein’ housed and fed, but the charity can’t last forever.”
One of our earlier smoking circle discussions revealed that Round Bob worked for Mel as part of the community outreach and employment program. He hadn’t been shy talking about it either, dude had a wife and four kids and was understandably devastated for a while, but then he picked himself back up. “Can’t do anything but make sure I stay alive,” he’d said.
His situation shed some unexpected light on my own mental state. All things considered, my losses were relatively light, even though it felt wrong to think so. I’d quickly reached for survival as an excuse and further developments had given me no reason to stop writing everyone off. The callousness didn’t escape me, but such were the times. We’re all a little crazy now.
Vik returned and cut the sightseeing short, directing me to the central compound. It was the one-stop-shop for all affairs communal. Seat of government, personal storage crates for the homeless and the village treasury, all rolled into one – it saved on guards having it all together. The place had a medium sized brown wooden block as a centerpiece with two smaller squares and two much lengthier rooms attached. Bland was apparently not just popular among the underground geography.
We scraped most of the mud off our shoes before continuing. Best to stay polite.
“Ya go on in, remember to knock. Mel’s office ‘s over there.” He pointed towards the outermost small room. “I got business by the treasury. Meet ya back here.”
“Sure, see you in a bit.”
I knocked on the door. “New arrival here, name’s Gabriel.” The door opened and she waved me inside.
“Come on in. Viktor told me to be expecting you. I’m Melinda. Please, have a seat.”
Didn’t like her one bit, she reminded me of corporate snakes – like me.