Brom nodded.

Just nodded. Like that explained everything that he had meant to say. Jack might have managed to yank out a few more sentences than usual out of the dwarf, but he had forgotten that this didn’t actually mean that the dwarf was now talkative.

“What others, Brom?”

“Others that will come seeking refuge.”

Jack spared a look at Mrk then, but the ratling just shrugged.

“Alright, I know I’m getting sidetracked, but it’s unnerving how sure you are of yourself. That’s why I need to ask this. Why are you so sure others will come?”

“Two reasons. The first I cannot say.”

Of course, you can’t.

“Why can’t you say it?” Jack asked him, before Brom could go on to speak in limited sentences.

“Hmm. It relates to my name. And my story. I will not say more, except to say that things are happening in the world. It is becoming… destabilized. Unmoored from tradition.”

“Alright. That’s… vague. What about the second reason?”

“This Refuge is known. When I had looked into places where I may find shelter, others have spoken to me of this place. And few others did before.”

“Right. But you see, I understood that the nymph had been running this place for some time now. It’s always been a refuge. Mrk and you only happened to show up recently.”

Or maybe others turned up in the past and Melena made them leave when they ate her rabbits. Sounds like her.

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m not sure I’m understanding this correctly, but it sounds to me that my Refuge has recently shot up in the public’s attention. Why is that?”

“I do not know. I have not heard of it before my departure. Yet, when I had need of a shelter, news of it reached me.”

“And you, Mrk? When did you learn about it?”

“…recently. After I left warren.” He said, sounding unsure.

“…you know what? I have no idea what to make of this.” Jack said, defeated. “And for the moment, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we grow.”

“That is what I still wished to discuss with you.” Brom said.

As usual, he waited until Jack gave him a sign that he could continue. Amusedly, he did.

“This Refuge is lacking. You have no buildings. Only your small, feeble shelters.”

“Mrk shelter not feeble.” The ratling murmured.

“Your garden is well-maintained. That is not enough. If your Refuge is to develop, then it will need industry. Separate buildings for separate purposes. For growing food, yes. But also, for processing animal pelts and meat. For mining and processing ore. A forge, for when you will have blacksmith. Most of all, you will need a central hall.”

“We don’t really do the whole hunting and processing animals yet, but I can see what you mean about the other buildings. Still, a hall?”

“A symbol of this clearing. It could act as a mess hall.”

“I see. Might be we should concern ourselves with smaller buildings. At first. But good, very good idea. We don’t have the manpower, er, I mean dwarf- ratling… We don’t have the people, yet, but we should prepare. Who knows, it might even increase the coin Elia makes. Before I go on to my idea, Mrk, do you have any thoughts?”

“Mrk not sure.” He shrugged. “Ratling warren more powerful when has more ratlings. More ratlings around, more trade. …and more fights. Now, we no have more people. Mrk says is good we prepare for more. Not sure else to do.”

“Well, I’m not sure when we’ll be seeing new members either. But I agree it’s good to be prepared. Now, on to what I thought off.”

Jack wasn’t sure if it was a touchy subject or not. He knew people were proud of their Classes, but he also knew some of them were touchy about revealing them, few as they are. Still, he needed his refuge to grow and he couldn’t think of a more direct route towards it.

He also thought that it was odd he had started to think of this place as a refuge, instead of a clearing, but shelved the thought for another day.

“Based on what Elia said and what I thought off, I think I would be good to level our Classes. As in, as fast as we can. I’m not sure about what Classes you have, but mine aren’t related to combat. Still, people respect Classes. I guess even if we can’t directly use them to protect the Refuge, it will impress the villagers enough if we show our support for Elia.”

“Hmm. I agree that leveling Classes is important. Yet doing so is not easy.”

Mrk nodded his approval.

“Yeah, I kind of understood that I’m a freak of nature in that regard. I still think it’s worth a try.”

“I see no harm in doing it. What are your Classes, Jack?”

“I’m a Level 10 |Tinker|, a Level 12 |Gatherer|, a Level 7 |Gardener|, a Level 2 |Forest Cook| and a Level 3 |Pathfinder|.”

Whew, that’s a mouthful.

Brom’s eyes widened, before he spoke again.

“You are young. Too young to have that many Classes, even though some are low level.”

“Yup. That’s where the whole freak of nature thing comes in.” Jack laughed.

“I… do not understand how this is possible. But few things make sense these days. So be it. And you?” he said, turning towards Mrk.

“Mrk is |Scavenger|. Just |Scavenger|. Level 5.” He said, hurriedly.

Brom peered at him, for a few seconds, but finally nodded.

“I am a Level 3 |Axe Guard|. I have one other Class, but I do not wish to disclose it.”

Yeah, judging by the other story you don’t want to share, I can kind of guess what Class it is.

“Hmm, Level 3.” Jack said thoughtfully. “Well, don’t worry, I’m sure my weirdness will rub off on you. Even Mrk Leveled up a couple of times since he got here, so it’s not just me.”

Brom frowned.

“I admit I am not as high-level as I could have been. But it is not a low Level for my age.”

“Oh. It’s… not? Sorry, I’m not familiar with dwarf culture. I thought… you know, with you being of a more, err, respectable age, that…”

Jack trailed off. He had the feeling he had just placed his foot in his mouth and he wasn’t sure how to get it out. Perhaps dwarfs simply leveled up slower.

“I am seventeen.” Brom said.

“WHAT?” Jack nearly shouted.

Truthfully, Jack really did not know much about the dwarfs. In his defense, it could be argued that the big, lustrous beard hid most of Brom’s features from view. Perhaps his stoic nature also made him seem older than he really was. But that wasn’t Jack’s main source of complaint.

“That is so not fair! You got a beard! A big one, too. I can’t even grow a moustache. Mrk, you don’t really have a beard, but you’ve got a big moustache. How old are you?”

“Mrk not know exact age.” The ratling grinned. “But thinks around same age as Brom.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

The rat was grinning, while Brom was stroking his beard, an amused smile on his lips. Jack though that was the happiest he had seen the dwarf yet. Certainly, the proudest.

It was a small thing to be complaining about, what with the larger events unfolding, but Jack deserved a moment to let his inner childishness shine through. Not that he could be called mature, even at the best of times.

“Alright, I don’t think I can take any more shocks right now. Unless you guys think we have something else we should discuss, I think I’ll be heading to bed.”

“There is one more thing.” Brom said.

Of course, there is.

“Classes appear and develop as one exercises them. You have said you are a |Forest Cook|, yet Mrk is the one cooking. If you wish to develop Classes, you should concern yourself with doing activities of their nature.”

Mrk looked affronted that someone was suggesting replacing him as Cook and looked about to say something about it, when Brom interrupted.

“If you, Mrk, wish to gain such a Class, then by all means do so. You may both cook. But I understand you have cooked and gardened for some time, without such a Class being offered in exchange. Something to ponder. Regardless, you Jack must do all activities your Classes demand. There is no other way to Level.”

Jack didn’t have any way of contradicting that. He wouldn’t have, even if he could. That was a record number of words that came from Brom in just the last few minutes. He’d congratulate him for that, if he didn’t think he’d take it as mockery.

At least this thing with being short on words isn’t entirely unchangeable.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“Fair enough. Thanks for the advice, Brom. But what will you do? I don’t think you’ll be able to Level up your |Axe Guard| Class without actually fighting someone, right?”

“Yes. That is why I wish to ask for your help. You do not have fighting Classes. Yet I believe sparring with you would help me. If you would allow it, I would like for you to help me train.”

Jack still remembered seeing Brom’s axe, lying on the grass, but the dwarf had been too helpful to refuse.

“Sure thing, Brom. I even have a sword, though it’s kind of small.”

“Rapier.” Mrk said.

“Yeah, that.” He grinned. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll start sparring.”

Brom nodded, satisfied, and thus ended their first group talk. Jack left for sleep soon afterwards, leaving Brom and Mrk behind. He didn’t feel like he had accomplished all that much, but he felt like he had a plan.

And a plan was all he needed.

***

When Jack woke up the next day, he felt invigorated. More so than on any other morning. He knew what he had to do! Well, kind of. He didn’t know anything about building new structures, but he knew how to make breakfast. At the very least, that was a step in the right direction.

Brom suggested to leave the sparring session until later in the day. Better to focus most of their energy in the betterment of the clearing. The first thing they did was to expand their garden. The red and green mushrooms had become their main source of income, with additional coin being made by the special herbs and grasses they’d found throughout the forest. Not that Jack saw much of that coin, given his arrangement with Elia. Since Mrk refused to stop gardening and only lessened his cooking, they saw the need to expand said garden.

It was good to know that Brom’s axe, though it was a war axe, was still good in chopping down wood. If Brom felt anything odd about it, he didn’t express it. It took longer than they expected, but by the end of the day their garden had nearly doubled, around three quarters of it being filled with the mushrooms, while the remaining quarter was dedicated to plants one could actually eat. That is, eat without feeling like your tongue was either burning or melting.

Two other improvements were added to their garden. One was that, along with the mushrooms, they had also decided to bring in a few of the magical plants from the forest and plant them in their garden. Jack wasn’t sure if they’d take, but he guessed his |Gardener| Skills had to see some use anyhow. The other improvement was suggested by Brom. A few logs were split in half and chiseled, until they looked something like pipes, split down the middle. Shoddy looking things, but once propped up along their garden, it made watering the plants a whole lot easier. Not that it made getting the water from the river that much easier.

Which brought them to their subsequent project.

“Tomorrow, we shall need to dig a well.” Brom said, while they dinned.

“A well! Damn it… that’s a great idea!” Jack spoke up.

“Mrk thinks we could have used it. Could have used it a lot.”

“Yes. I was surprised to see you did not have one.”

“We, uh, kind of completely started off from scratch.”

Their tired state didn’t make for eloquent conversation.

“Also, tomorrow I wish to reserve time for sparring. I has been a long time since I had last practiced.” Brom said, with an eager look in his eyes.

Jack refrained from gulping audibly and chose instead to focus on his stew. And in his mind the voice sounded, telling him that two of his Classes had Leveled up.

***

It turned out that digging a well requires shovels. And since they didn’t have any metal laying around or any means of producing any, they had to make do with wooden shovels. Jack had half a mind to try buying some from the village, but he refrained. He wanted his next trip to the village to involve baskets upon baskets of magical mushrooms and ingredients. A show of force, if it could be called that.

They eventually did manage to dig the well in due time, even to build a stone foundation. It took them the better half of a day, but they did it. A primitive bucket, fashioned out of an old tree stump, completed the arrangement.

That only left deciding on what to do next.

“I still say we need a hall.”

“Wouldn’t that be too big? Or at least, too hard without metal tools and more hands?”

“Mrk is tired.” The ratling huffed.

“Hm. Then perhaps a half of a hall. There is no use in us all sleeping in different shelters. One large cabin for us, with room for more. A small mess hall on the ground floor.”

Brom the ‘mason’ seemed to have grand plans, yet the reality of the situation seemed to be escaping him.

“Fair. But! We still don’t have the tools or the manpower, though.”

“You are right. We shall go to the village to procure them. After our sparring session.”

Jack had half a mind to ask for a break, before a thought interrupted him.

I need to get better.

“Fine. So, how do we go about this?”

“No Skills. It would be unfair for you. We will not use real weapons. We will use wooden ones.”

“But we don’t have-“

“I have taken the liberty of crafting a few.”

“Mrk not surprised.” He murmured.

The ‘fight’ didn’t last long. Mrk and Jack fought side by side, brandishing their wooden weapons with Brom, who had a wooden axe. Jack was of the opinion that it was just a fancy club, but didn’t voice it out loud. The dwarf was intense enough as it was.

The two attacked Brom multiple ways, from the front as well as from different sides. They tried running at him, alternatively stepping in, even tackling him. Nothing seemed to work. The dwarf seemed to know where they were, even without looking at them. He stepped away just in the nick of time and his counter-attacks were painful, if not brutal.

By the time they were done, only an hour or so had passed. They simply didn’t have the stamina to last any longer than that. Jack was at least sitting on the grass. Mrk had collapsed face down, spread eagle. If he listened closely, Jack thought he could hear the little ratling’s lungs wheezing.

Level 3 my ass. So that’s what a combat Class can do.

“I do not believe I will Level from this. Not today. But it has been good training. Perhaps in time.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ll Level either. I might vomit, though. So, you know, there’s that.”

“Mrk too tired to vomit.” The ratling spoke, head still buried in the grass.

“Hmm. We will rest. And then we shall go to this village.”

“Yup. Been wanting to introduce you to Elia and Lola. But, uh, we’ll hold off on carrying the ingredients until next time.”

“Why?” Brom asked, looking surprised.

“I just want to make a big impression when I carry all of them into the village. I’m going to need more of them to pull that off.”

“I see.”

The real reason was, of course, that Jack was afraid he might faint half-way to the village, if he had to carry even as single basket. But he considered what he said a white lie and moved on. Besides, Mrk was looking tired too. He surely wasn’t just thinking about himself. Surely.

Their trek to the village wasn’t eventful, mainly occupied by the two pointing different herbs and plants to Brom, telling them what was worth more and regaling him high tales of their past exploits. By the time they exited the forest, Brom had been completely brought up to speed. Though he still had trouble imagining Jack being attacked by an army of Spriggans.

The village itself didn’t impress Brom. That, however, did not mean that the village wasn’t impressed by him. Though perhaps ‘impressed’ wasn’t the correct word. Their presence certainly caused a wave of murmurs around them though. Jack remembered the villagers being appalled by Mrk, but even he didn’t turn that many heads.

“Hey, Brom.” Jack quietly said to him. “Do dwarfs have any relations to humans? Like, you know, what do humans think of your race?”

“I am not sure what humans think. Especially not the ones in this village. As for my kind’s relations with them, we trade with humans. Or war with them. In depends on how uppity the neighboring kingdoms are to the local dwarfholds.”

“Right. Got it.”

Could have warned me, Brom.

“Mrk just happy nobody mad.”

“Me too, buddy. Hope it stays that way.”

Elia was just as nice to Brom as she was to Mrk. The sole difference was that she started to ask about an entire series of ingredients in which, apparently, dwarfs specialized. Not that it helped her much. From what Jack had understood from Brom’s answers, he didn’t have much interest in magic or alchemy of any kind. The only thing Elia managed to extract for him was a recipe for a type of oil, which was used for maintaining weapons.

Lola wasn’t around, to Jack’s and Mrk disappointment, having gone away on an errand. Still, Elia managed to grab a villager out of the perpetual crowd formed around her shop and instruct him to go and buy a whole host of tools, ranging from axes and shovels to hoes and hammers. Mostly everything they needed, with the exception of weapons. Those were expensive and Elia’s campaign was in full bloom.

“It’s been busy around here. I managed to hire another guard and even talk to the owner of the building next to mine. He’s not using the ground floor, I thought of buying it and expanding it into a shop. Thought it might do some good for the village to have another open business.”

“That’s great! But, how will you be managing that one too?”

“Oh, I won’t.” she laughed. “Between talking to people and running this shop, I barely have time to sleep. I’ve been Leveling though, so it’s still a blessing in disguise. But no, I was thinking of keeping this shop only for Potions and the sort and use the other one for my Herbalist side of the business.”

“Won’t you need a new Herbalist too? I know Lola’s been helping you, but you’ll still need to do double the work.”

“I know.” She grinned. “Which is why I’ve been training her as an Herbalist!”

“Really?” he asked.

Mrk was similarly surprised. Brom mostly seemed intrigued by all the people peering at him.

“Yup. But don’t tell her I told you. I think she’s holding off on breaking the news to you until she gets the Class.”

“That’s so cool. Think she’ll get it?”

“I think so. I got mine in under a year, when I’ve first picked up the trade. And she’s been working harder than I was, if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you, Elia. On her behalf, for what you’ve done.”

“Oh, don’t you worry.” She said quickly, gesturing aimlessly.

For all the iron Elia could put in her voice, it seemed she wasn’t that good at receiving thanks. It was amusing, in a way.

“If there’s anything more that I could-“

“You’re already doing enough, Jack. Don’t worry. We’ll make this work, you’ll see. Ah and here comes your order.” She said, as a tired looking man, carrying a clanking sack on his back entered her shop.

They couldn’t remain, even though they wanted to. Well, Jack did. He was pretty sure Mrk did too. Only Brom refused to change his facial expression too much. Still, Elia had clients and Jack had work to do.

Probably another sparring session with Brom and his ‘axe’.

No, wrong mindset! I love Brom’s axe. I love… ugh, that sounds weird.

It was after they’d let Elia’s shop and they were walking down a road when fate decided they went too long without a hiccup.

Riding towards them was a man atop a horse, with a young man following him. The same knight from before.

Followed by the same dipshit.

Louis refused to look at them as they approached, perhaps fearing that should he be ‘insulted’ he wouldn’t be able to hold back. No doubt, the advice of his father. The knight, however, didn’t have such worries.

“Hold.” He told them, stopping to their side. “You there, dwarf. What is your name.”

Brom frowned, but answered.

“Brom. My name is Brom.”

“Of what Clan?”

“I do not wish to disclose this information.”

That seemed to get more of the knight’s attention. He spurred his horse closer, peering down at them. Louis reluctantly followed.

“And why is that?”

“My reasons are my own.” Brom said, though there was an edge to his voice.

“Sir, my friend is new to Helmrest. He’s living with me in the Refuge.” Jack told him.

Not taking his eyes off Brom, the knight replied.

“Louis tells me you are a Jack, boy. In name, if not in Class. I am unsure if I should take your word for granted.”

“Louis may have forgotten to tell you that I’ve also saved this village, sir.” Jack added.

The knight turned to him then, though his own brows were furrowed.

“He didn’t. He told me of your feats. Though I’ve seen Jacks pretend to be good before. Pretend they were, until theirs hosts dropped their guards and that is when they struck. And now I see a boy named Jack, accompanied by a ratling and a dwarf.”

He almost spat that last word.

“Tell me your Clan, dwarf.”

“I do not wish to.”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

His hand went to his sword, which was hanging at his side. Never had Jack more acutely known that he was unarmed. Perhaps foolishly, he had left his sword at home, feeling that he was safe in the village. Foolish. Mrk didn’t bring his knife either, perhaps subconsciously emulating Jack. Only Brom had a weapon on him, the war axe strapped to his back, but he wasn’t reaching towards it.

In fact, Brom wasn’t doing anything. The only change that occurred in him was that his brows were slightly furrowed. Besides that, he seemed as unfazed as he always was. That only seemed to anger the knight even more.

“Know this, dwarf. I am a knight of Ameron. I have no immediate quarrel with your people, but I have met your kind in war. I do not suffer your presence lightly, in this village or any other. Now, tell me your Clan!”

“I will not.”

The sword was halfway out of the scabbard when it stopped. It happened quickly enough that Jack wasn’t sure if he could have jumped in front of Brom before it happened. He didn’t need to, though. The knight stopped, mid motion. His eyes were searching his surroundings.

Jack noticed that and looked around himself as well. And saw what made the knight hesitate. It wasn’t a threat that saved them. It was, amusingly enough, the general nosiness of people living in a village with not much entertainment. Their discussion, short as it was, had attracted attention. All around them, people were watching, discreetly or… not discreetly.

The knight hesitated, but finally let his sword drop back into its scabbard.

“I do not wish to spill blood today, dwarf. But you are far from home. I urge you to remember that you are in human lands now.”

That said, the knight spurred his horse, leaving them behind. Louis couldn’t manage not to smirk at them, as he passed them by.

Without a word, the three moved forwards as well, continuing their trek back to their clearing, bags of tools slung on their backs.

“So, Brom.” Jack said, after a few minutes of walking. “Was that something that you can share with us?”