Entering the tower Arakvili tossed the spare clothes onto a box, taking the pot he poured some water and started up the forge. He was Shivering like Hell. The first floor of the tower was incredibly cold, inhospitable in his state.
Yet still he began preparing, taking a few small shrapnels of the broken knives and began peeling potatoes. The dungeon like atmosphere was barely helped by the calm warmth of the forges fire, though dim. Sooner it would begin feeling more like a home as the room was filled with the scent of meat and the sound of boiling water.
In Between the cooking of this nights dinner Arakvili took the time to prepare the wool, string from the box that contained a flint and steel, and leather from the bull. He washed it off with some water held as spare, and with those began crafting.
Sometimes during the nights when he couldn't sleep yet he browsed the crafting interface of the system. There was a lot certainly, however each thing he saw next gave him hope for a better day, specifically the hints dropped along the tooltips of items and materials. From that too the book he originally found. He hadn't touched it again because there was nothing he could do with it, but the faster he got through this stage, the faster he could become a spellcaster!
Arakvili was in glee to that concept, but for now he simply began crafting a cloak. It was long and difficult this time the system guided him again, but it was even less efficient than it wasn't before, it moved his hands slowly and incredibly carefully as it used the knife shrapnels to give the leather slab shape.
Like that the moon rose old and peaked, swinging down within the following hours, yet In Between his handful of meals and the ending of another hour in a row. It was finished.
The cloak was long and thick, covering Arakvilis entire body, it had a collar of wool that completely covered his neck with a few bone buttons shaved off from the pieces off the thick ribs. The first piece of his equipment was done, however for the night this was it. He drank the broth of the stew before heading to sleep. Forced to listen to the pained groans of the monstrous creatures outside, he blocked the door once more just in case before falling asleep…
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“ Hrng ”
Stretching awake Arakvili jolted as pain seared across his chest. Looking down the scar on his chest was still scabbed over, little flips of blood released from the wound from his careless stretch…
He looked outside the window sobered now. And for once he was greeted with a pleasant view. The trees swung their lives in sunshine with some blue birds fluttering around, while the forest on its own seemed livelier…
He got up, taking the new cloak which he had used as a better blanket now and the old axe from the first floor. His next goals converged with the same source of needs. For one, he wished to clean off the skull of the bull and turn it into a helmet, as among the many items an iron helmet with many segments and connectors could be forged to suit the skull of an animal. And with the Cloak and Skull combined perhaps the new appearance could hide his fears.
But, he was much closer to achieving the second, a crop plot, the only thing he knew about it is that it required water, dirt and wood planks. ‘A garden plot with a fence used to keep vermin out’ is all he knew from its tooltip. But if he could plant the earthroots and grow them, achieve more food someday, he would be the happiest human in this world…
The only human still,
But as he arrived near the closest tree, a decently large oak tree by the premises of the clearing. He wasn't sure of what to do. He had taken the axe confidently but looking at the small thing compared to the thick trunk of the oak, how was it ever supposed to go through?
Clearly one answer came to his mind and that was all to it, Arakvili drew back the axe and reinforced with all of his aura, whatever he couldn't force in there going into his arms and shoulders, he spun and hit the tree, and so the collision point exploded.
Dust and small shrapnel of wood flew out, piercing into the skin of Arakvili, he drew back saddened. He looked at the axe as it had shattered anyway. He thought that reinforcing the axe with aura would save it from being crushed but in the end it was for nought. Looking at the trunk of the tree, at least that was damaged deeply, destroyed into the middle of its core; it looked like it could be pushed over if he had enough force…
Clearer there was one answer that could come to mind now that there was no axe. He got behind the tree and tried climbing up onto the branches of another, taking a deep breath as he draw back his hand. And slammed upon the tree with as much aura as he could muster throughout his body.
A palm strike used to push over the tree, it shook and cracked bellow him. Obviously he fell from the branches as they snapped bellow him, but so did the cut tree tip over. Yet suddenly it shifted backward as it moved slamming into Arakvili who barely helped himself with reinforced Aura, flinging him up with its trunk which continued to shift and roll before stopping. He fell down nearby, barely landing.
The noise was tremendously loud from the tree falling, the entire forest seemed disturbed as birds flew off and even a few new ones appeared far above, deer and boards bumbling and barking out echoed in response too… For a few moments it felt like the entire forest came to life. Which was eerie, this place was normally so slow and peaceful until those sudden moments of violence.
Arakvili looked around certainly startled. Logically reflecting on what happened, of course the tree wouldnt simply fall flat, the endless amount of branches on it while some snapped and other didnt would move it and swing it as the power of the fall was lost until it snapped into place as it had now, but to think that it would swing back upward after falling and strike him was beyond his clairvoyance of the plan.
This time though there was no plan. As Arakvili looked into the crafting menu of the system the option to create planks was unavailable, even the option for logs was unavailable. Though he certainly had the wood, the tree itself right there? A hunch crawled his spine as to what the problem may be, however that would be the worst case scenario.
He rushed into the tower grabbing sickle and cleaver. The tree was dreadfully covering the clearing, ruining the atmosphere. So to put aside his work he took more work, clearing out the branches and tall grass before making a pile of them beside the tower. Cleaving the branches apart and making a pile of grass for later thatching… Perhaps he could even make a simple shack with the massive amount of branches gathered from this.
Over the course of the coming few hours the clearing was cleared up, Arakvili took the time relaxingly to remove the grass from a large portion of the field also assembled a small hut of thatch and the thicker branches, within of which the many smaller branches were hidden, to be used for firewood or other means. Now too the place looked much more like the home of a living creature.
However still, now came the difficult part, Arakvili already knew there was a box full of shattered knives. He could use their fragments and reinforce both his hands and the shrapnels with aura to try and cleave up parts of the tree trunk into logs, or he could try to repair one of the axes in the tool full of broken tools.
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He began with the latter, deciding the risk of the first option, though the one he had taken majority of this time, that was only because the task was to cut the meat of a fish or bull, once a rat. However a tree was too much.
Looking through the box full of broken tools there was a lot, shovels, axes, hoes, sickles and even some things Arakvili couldnt recognize anymore due to how beaten up they were. But as always his luck brought him through as he found an axe head, it was clean and sharp still, in one piece too, however the same could not be said for the handle. That which was wedged deep into its eye. It had shattered.
Though he tried it couldnt be pushed out. But the wood was dry and the metal was cold, Arakvili had an concept of a plan to cure this issue. He threw the axe head into the forge. Never once yet had he managed to light the thing to the level of melting any metal. Not even stone.
First, however, he took the bucket and rushed to gather water…
While that was happening a rather plump and oily, a quite furry and relaxed creature waddled out of the tall grass and the forest, slapping its tail along as it moved.
The Beaver had arrived home, though to it the comprehension of the tower, the cut tree, the thatch shack that stores branches was much more than it cared.
It simply found its way into the depths of the shack holding the branches, crawling its way deep in there. Beginning its nesting.
By now Arakvili had gotten back too, returning to the tower the atmosphere of a home began brewing up even better as the garden was cleared out and a new shack appeared. The scent of potato and beef stew again filled the vicinity.
Arakvili enjoyed his stew outside. He watched the forest and the creatures that came by. To his surprise there was more still he hadn't noticed yet. There were tiny, absolutely menial little birds flying around. If some had not landed near him he likely would have never been able to tell that they even are birds and not some kind of dragonfly,
[‘Grass Hummingbird’ added to Bestiary]
They were all tiny little hummingbirds, green as the tall grass they live within. Their tiny wings flapped faster than could even be observed, it looked as if they didn't even have them. However closer they sounded like small helicopters, buzzing busier than bees.
‘c- … So Cute… ’
Flustered he finished his meal, the sun blazing high and mighty. Though now evening is only drawing closer and though he still had well more than two thirds of the basket full of earthroots, however the meat wont last forever. Either today or tomorrow he will have to finish the rest because it will rot. It has already started a little. Terrible.
After his lunch Arakvili returned to the forge, the flames lighty gracing the room with some more light than the door lets in. Taking too long sticks he pulled out the axe head. Looking through its eye, it was certainly cleared out though some coal could still be rubbed off, however the shine of the metal reminded him to be careful… It somewhat resembled like some creature moving under a layer of ice with the way the patterns formed on it…
In the meantime, Arakvili took the chance to prepare a handle, taking a branch of the pile. It seemed crunched a little but he didn't bother looking further. Through there. He found two good pieces, one to fit and one to carve.
From the first he only carved off the bark using the knife shrapnel and his aura, making a deeper incision near the top too, shaving off enough from the sides after to fit the eye of the axehead. While from the other piece, Arakvili carved out a wedge.
This was a plan assembled purely based on faint memories seen in videos. However if he wanted to make an axe that stuck together well, this was the only way he predicted would work. After all the system often offered many ways to craft an item, various results from the same materials. So he suspected originally, yet now he had made the axe himself, distracted by his ability to mold things to his will through the use of aura.
Having hammered the wedge into the tip of the axe aye to hold the handle in tight, it squeezed in though it was difficult. If the branch used was any older than a freshly cut one then it would likely have snapped instead of slotted in as well as it did. Arakvili was filled with immense joy, to the reward of a New Axe!
[‘Iron Axe’ added to Compendium]
Like this, Arakvili returned to work outside, with the system menu allowing him to continue the process of crafting. Beginning with logs.
And so the day went in labor, guided by the system though still experiencing each harsh moment. It felt as if the system intentionally refused to use Aura to his advantage whenever this happened unless it was absolutely necessary like when it used knife shrapnels to make tiny holes in the cloak for buttons.
But now, all he could do was follow spiritually to the actions of the system, learn how it cut the fallen tree trunk into logs. One, Swing, At, A, Time…
After a closing a due hour, sweating to his bones, his muscles plump and sore Arakvili looked up to the orange dyeing sky. The axe dropped down next to a log recently cut, upon which Akivili sat too…
“ Haaghh ”
He took deep breaths, once again looking at the tiny fairy like grass hummingbirds… Their presence was delightful and insightful to the fact that the possibility of the legged python or grizzly boar appearing were… Non zero… It may have been days since he last saw either but he was convincing himself, there was no way they wouldn't appear again! They were wild animals after all!
Though if there was anyone else here they could easily tell that he was going insane, the solitude and the haunting sense of being prey never abandoned Arakvili. Not even for a moment.
And yet he had to continue working. The Sooner the ‘Earthroots’ were dug into the soil of a garden the sooner he would acquire a source of food closer to home. That is under many assumptions but Arakvili was convinced anyway.
Through the help of the systems crafting interface again he continued to create planks of wood, shaving pieces and breaking them apart with carefully placed wedges, hammered in with some force.
And with his aura illuminating the front yard, the sun had set as the construction of the crop plot was set in motion. The Planks carved out carefully, though they came easier. What did not is the concept of joinery Arakvili hoped to implement. Given that he had no nails or screws let alone any other materials, he had to care the wood to slot together.
He wasn't proficient at it at all, given that the system itself provided little support to this plan, however it was good enough to establish the the very first garden plot.
He Took the shovel from before and heaved in dirt from beyond the vicinity, where the forest had already fallen into shadows and quiet night. The cold of the evening was settling in by now while he planted the tubers.
Retreating within as the first groans of undead echoed. The first garden was finished. But Arakvili had already long fallen asleep, settling for the night.
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And so these same processes were repeated for the next three days. For the first Arakvili cut another tree and finished producing planks, while on the second day a second and third garden plot were finished, curving around the sides of the tower. However The third day as his work would have begun normally. Arakvili found himself completely dumbfounded by the plots…
Right there, were already fully grown earthroot bushes. In the first garden pulling up the roots, the tubers had fully formed just in the course of 3 days? It was completely out of the ordinary, even for what he had seen until now. Sure he was happy, but he couldn't believe it anymore. The plants he barely cultivated with a little soil and grass with a bucket of water had already sprouted, grown and produced?!
Ecstasy washed over Arakvili as he collected the first batch of Earthroots, from now on his meals would only become filled with more potatoes!
Happy he pranced to the edge of the forest to prepare the next set of logs, yet instead the Devils Eyes greeted him, within a meter they glew emerald and gold. The pythons legs wrapped around the trunk of the tree, claws leaving no gashes but the light white marks.
“ AAAAAAAAAAGH ”
Arakvili ran like a coward, reinforcing his legs with Aura he dashed to the door, rushing he heard the grass shiver and shake, the sound of the giants legs slamming against the door made his heart beat. He spared no moment to shut the door and lock it fast. Though its talon pierced the top of the door, Arakvili teared up Beneath…