When Trog awoke the following day, he felt someone shaking his foot. The pain in his head was nothing compared to the burning feeling that pulsing through his entire body. It took a few minutes to feel that opening his eyes wouldn’t cause extreme pain. As the light from the sun became bearable, Trog noticed that Bowen was staring at something to Trog's left and still shaking his foot, trying to wake him. As Trog focused more on Bowen’s face, he started to worry. It was a look of complete shock, and Trog wondered if something dangerous was beside him, like a poisonous snake or spider, next to him on the ground. Slowly, Trog turned his head to see what caused his friend's shock, and his jaw dropped. Beside him was the small hand spade, its wooden handle now sprouting a long green vine that snaked across the ground. A green vine growing from the handle of a tool was not typical by any means. However, what was more shocking were the five small hand spades that looked to have grown from the vine like some kind of fruit. Trog reached out and touched the vine growing from the handle; its texture was smooth, and the leaves were soft.
Skill Plant Identification
Name: small hand spade
Requires: any soil and mana
Needs: Nothing
Growth: harvestable
In stunned disbelief, Trog turned to Bowen. “It’s a small hand spade plant, ready to be harvested.”
Bowen finally seemed to snap out of it. He jumped up and started running toward the house. “I’ll be right back, so don’t move.”
Trog just stayed seated, the pain in his head and the burning sensation of his body not seeming to want to stop anytime soon. When the house's back door opened next, Tumass and Tiani were being hurried outside by their grandson. Once everyone was outside, Bowen ran by them, and he quickly handed Trog a small vial.
“For the handover,” Bowen said as he opened a second vial, which he still had and drank.
“Thank you. Do you have anything for the burning sensation throughout my body?” Trog called back as he drank the small vial handed to him.
Trog's words drew Tumass’s attention, and he rushed to look closer at him. Quickly, he inspected the goblin’s eyes and then pinched his ear.
“Ouch! That hurts!” Trog called out, and Tumass called back to his wife.
“This idiot has mana sickness on his first day,” he turned back to Trog, “You will feel this burn for the rest of the day, and your mana will not refill until you have had another 8 hours of sleep. What may I ask made you think it would be a good idea to use 100% of your mana? You must have seen mana sickness before while in the army.”
Trog had seen mana sickness but hadn’t realized how painful it was. More than once, he had to drag magic users off the field after a close battle. Still, he had a good reason, or at least it seemed like one at the time.
“My Skill said I need to use 100% to grow this,” Trog answered, pointing at the vine that had grown out of the hand spade.
Everyone turned to look at the new addition to their garden. Trog felt a little better seeing the two old halflings' jaws drop at the sight. Both moved closer, reaching out to touch the vine, making sure it was real. Then Tumass picked one of the new hand spades from the vine. He examined it closely and then used it to move some dirt in the garden.
“Well,” he said, “They’re real.”
“Let me see.” his wife said as she reached for the spade he held. Quickly, he pulled it away.
“This one is mine, woman. Pick your own.”
Tiani slapped his shoulder, “You are such a morning grouch. Fine, I will pick my own.”
Now holding her spade, her eyes widened in shock as she saw something Tumass had missed.
“Look, Tumass, it has the same crack in the handle as ours.”
She quickly picked the remaining spades from the vine and turned them over, pointing out the same crack in the handle on each of them. Suddenly, the vine turned from lush green to brown and started to crumple away like dust, followed by the original tool still halfway in the ground. They all looked on in stunned silence as a breeze removed all traces of the original spade and the vine that had produced five identical tools. A few minutes later, they were all sitting at the table inside, the five duplicate tools laid out before them. Tiana had gotten everyone some bread and coffee while Trog had told them what had happened.
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Tumass said while holding his forehead like it hurt. “Your identify skill showed that you could use mana to grow these.”
“Yes, it said it required soil and mana, and it needed 100% mana until harvestable.”
Tumass reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper coin. He tossed it to Trog.
“Use your skill on that.”
Trog did as he asked and, to his shock, got a prompt.
Skill Plant Identification
Name: copper coin
Requires: soil and mana
Needs: mana and soil
Growth: 100% mana til harvestable
Seeing the shock on Trog's face, Tumass started shaking his head.
“Oh, this is not good at all,” he said, touching Trog’s shoulder.
“What do you mean not good? If Trog can grow coins, he will be rich and never have to worry. How is that a bad thing?” Bowen said, excitement in his voice.
“It is bad because if anyone found out what he can do, his life would be over. Think about it. What would the kingdom do if someone could grow copper or gold? What if it turns out he can grow weapons and armor? Do you think they will let him live his life free? They would want him locked away safely so they can use his skill. Say it’s to keep him from being taken prisoner or something, and even if he wants to do that to help the kingdom. He will have a target on his back. The dragonkin or any other group might want just to kill him to stop him from being able to aid the war effort.”
Both Trog and Bowen realized the old halfling was right. If anyone powerful found out what he could do, they would hunt him down. Tiani didn’t like where this conversation had gone.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Trog. You have found out what you can do in a safe environment, and we will never let anyone know what you can do. Plus, the original tool and vine turned to dust, so nothing will be left behind when you use your skill, making it easier to keep secret. However, spending as much time as possible figuring out precisely what you can do would be best. We owe you for saving Bowen, and you can feel free to stay here while you figure this out.”
Bowen perked up, “Since your identification skill doesn’t use mana, we can spend the day identifying everything we can find to see what you need to grow different things. Then, if anything special is needed, we can make sure you have it tomorrow when you have mana again, and we can do some testing.”
Trog smiled at his friend, “I am glad you are excited about this. All I want is to soak in a cold river until this burning disappears.”
Bowen realized Trog was in real pain, having never complained about his arms in the few days he had known him, even with most of the skin torn and exposed. “Take the day to rest in the river Trog. Tomorrow, we can test the limits of your magic. I can spend the day thinking of ways to test the limits.”
Trog was enjoying the cool water of the river on his body. He found some small boulders to rest his arms on to keep them out of the water. It would have been nice to submerge wholly, but small fish tended to try to eat the damaged skin from his arms. The spot he found was close to where they had been the day before, surrounded by tall cat tails and plenty of shade from the nearby trees. His mind raced with thoughts of why his future would hold now. The army might take him back if he could replicate weapons and armor, but there was no way he could lead troops into battle. They would end up putting him in a fort away from the front, and that wasn’t the life he wanted. Being a trainer in an orc city still sounded like something he would enjoy. Many orcs talk about the adventure teams from their cities and their skills. If he could get hired by a dungeon patron company, he would have steady work as long as they have plenty of recruits. He had heard one of the soldiers in his unit say they wouldn’t have joined the army if The Golden Ledger had accepted into one. Patron companies are a good starting place for anyone who doesn’t have the coin to invest in gear but has some natural talent and desire to become an adventurer. The best companies don’t just pay for your gear and guild membership but sometimes provide awakening stones if they think the adventurer has promise. The downside is that signing with a patron company means that everything you bring out of the dungeon belongs to the company, no matter how valuable. The idea hit him like lightning. He could start a patron company.
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You only needed enough coins to outfit your adventurers and cover their guild fees. His magical farming guaranteed him a land grant for farming, which he could turn into a base of operations for the company. The garrison would accept coins in place of crops for the taxes. He wouldn’t need to hire trainers at first. He could only train them in precision brawling and not something like swordsmanship or archery, but put a group of 4 precision brawlers in spiked or bladed gauntlets, and nothing would stand against them for long. It wouldn’t be the same as leading men into battle, but he could still use his skill and experience to create combat units. Preparing them for battle and testing them against the dangers of the dungeons would still prove to himself that he could lead, and becoming a patron company of renown would earn more respect he longed to bring to his race.
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Bowen spent the entire day Trog was resting in the river, rewriting his notes from the night before. It was gratifying to confirm that his theories on what some plants needed to grow were correct. He started to notice some trends in the plants while he wrote. He started grouping each plant that needed specific amounts of sunlight and then noticing more commonalities. He used another page to group them by how much water they needed. With this new information, he started to see how he could rearrange the planting next season to simplify watering. If half the garden only needed watering once every two weeks instead of every day, it would save a lot of time. Once Bowen had rewritten his notes, he headed outside to work on a way to limit sunlight exposure to the plants. Settling on a simple covering that would shield the sunlight for most of the morning and afternoon, he wrote down the dimensions. He headed to the carpenter to see how much he would charge for a unique planter that only allowed direct sunlight for a few hours each day.
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The second moon was still visible when Trog opened his eyes the next day. Its bright white cratered surface always comforted Trog as he saw the homes of his ancestors on the second moon. He had hoped one day to join them, but now those hopes were gone. Only great leaders who die in battle are welcome to join their ancestors on the second moon. This time, when the great welcoming happens, he will be forced to watch like he did as a child. He never forgot the first time he saw a warrior soul impact on the second moon. The bloom of gold as the impact happened was beautiful. His father had explained how past warrior leaders would welcome the souls of great warriors to join the ancestors to watch over their descendants. That was the day Trog decided he wanted to become a warrior.
Today, Trog would start his new path not as a warrior but as a magical farmer. When Trog returned from the river, Bowen had a list of tasks for him. This morning would start with Trog doing nothing but using plant identification on everything he could touch.
Chapter 4 continued
After four hours of using plant identification on everything Trog could touch within the Thornside home, he was shocked by another unexpected change and brought up his stats.
Farming Magic Skills:
* Plant Identification Tier 2
Trog quickly grabbed the item he had just set down.
Skill Plant Identification
Name: cloth napkin
Requires:
* Vine- Tier 1 soil and mana (5-7)
* Tuber - Tier 2 soil and mana (10-15)
* Bush- Tier 3 soil and mana (30-45)
* Tree- Tier 4 soil and mana (50-75)
* Grass- Tier 5 soil and mana (75-150)
Needs: mana and soil
Growth: 100% mana til harvestable
Trog was in shock. The realization that he could grow more than vines and even grow trees that would produce items filled him with a sense of boundless potential. He guessed that the numbers stood for how many items would be made. Gathering funds would be much easier if he got his hands on some higher-tier soil. Bowen agreed with him once Trog informed him of the new information. Tiana overheard them talking about hiring someone to enchant the garden again and started laughing at them.
“You don’t have to do that, silly boys. Soil can naturally be better than tier 1 if you collect it from the right areas. Have you ever wondered why the forest can grow so thick or why the swamp lands seem overgrown?”
Trog and Bowen looked at each other clearly, never putting two and two together.
Tiana laughed even harder at the look of shock on their faces. “We hire magic farmers to enhance soil so we wouldn’t have to load wagons full of dirt and bring them back to the village.”
Bowen looked at Trog, “We need to get a wagon and some shovels.”
Trog nodded. ”Before we can buy a wagon, we must grow some items to sell first.”
Bowen smiled at Trog, “I have a few ideas that might make things go a little faster.”
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A few days later, far to the north, Aldon was called into the command tent. He stood tall as I walked past the orc soldiers standing guard. Aldon was pleased that his outstanding work in bringing the new reinforcements was recognized. Surely, he would be given command of a new unit made of other elite elven warriors instead of the mixed bag of soldiers he was in charge of. Having to deal with what he considered lesser races was tiresome. As he entered the tent, Aldon saw the orc and human officers who had traveled with him. Both men made the dwarf sitting behind the desk in the tent's center look exceptionally small. But there was no mistaking the rank of the dwarf. The Golden tassels woven into his beard marked him as the General. Aldon quickly stood at attention and gave his salute.
“Captain Aldon, reporting as ordered, General.” He said in a robust and crisp voice.
The General slowly pulled his eyes from the letter he was reading and regarded Aldon with a look that caused Aldon’s stomach to turn. Then, as though it was never there, the expression on the dwarf’s face changed.
“At ease, Captain, I just received a letter about you, and I had to confirm its contents with these two officers. It seems you acted in ways that have caught the attention of more than a few of your fellow officers. Such things never go unrewarded.”
Aldon felt his chest swell with pride as the General continued.
“You even saw to it that a vanguard veteran was given a legendary awakening stone.”
“Yes, sir,” Aldon said, his smile spreading as he thought of the goblin he had tricked into using a farming magic awakening stone.
The dwarf started to smile as well. “I had heard of this soldier before, you know. The Burned Fist was well respected in the vanguard. I heard from his commander that he had hoped to rejoin the army once he had gotten ahold of an awakening stone.”
Upon hearing this, Aldon’s face lost its smile.
“Imagine my disappointment to learn that a young officer who had never seen actual battle tricked such a loyal soldier into using a farming magic stone. Which, of course, makes him unable to ever return to war.” The General also was no longer smiling at this point, and the tone of his voice started to turn violent. “I have learned that you have unlocked Divination as your magical class, and detecting magic is your primary skill, which is how you used the basic appraisal skill to identify the awakening stone. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then, from now on, I am assigning you to the Vulture Squad, where your extraordinary skill will be most beneficial.”
“Vulture Squad, Sir?”
The General smiled again. “Yes, Private Aldon, the Vulture Squad is responsible for cleaning the enemy's corpses of valuables. You will now use your detect magic on every corpse from the past battlefields in search of any magical items that might have been missed. Once you have done so to the satisfaction of the corporal in charge of Vulture Squad, we will reconsider your joining of the vanguard. Corporal Veden will be waiting for you at the north entrance to the camp. The Vulture Squad is starting its daily duty with the sun setting.”
Aldon left the tent in shock as he made his way to the north entrance. What had just happened? Looking down, he saw the grey tassel hanging from his left shoulder, marking him a private instead of a captain. When he finally reached the north entrance, he saw a group of beastkin gathered. Each had light leather armor, and their bald heads and curved becks spoke to their ancestry. Of course, the Vulture Squad would be descendants of the great Vulture. The largest of them stepped toward Aldon and looked him up and down.
“Welcome to the squad, private. Since it’s your first night, we will let you call dibs on the first rotting dragonkin heart if you are hungry.” The screeching laughter of the squad caused Aldon’s ears to hurt, and he spent the next eight hours laying his hands on piles of now partly eaten corpses that his squad mates tossed to him, checking them for anything magical.
When the night was finally over, Aldon started dreaming of losing a leg to rot so that he could be dismissed due to permanent injury. Anything would be better than having to hear the sounds of his fellow squad mates eating the organs of the corpses as they casually searched them for valuable items.