(7) Day 1: In Which Help is Given_The Grimoire is Not Complete! [A Magical LitRPG Adventure!]

Starting Status

Sign: Snake

Buffs: Serpent’s Kiss (Romance twice as easy)

Debuffs: Curse of the Unspecified (Start the game with no gender, no name, and no other identifying feature)

Cards of Destiny: 3 of ?? Discovered

EXP: 47

Skills:

Alchemy

-Coagula (LVL 0, 7 SKP)

-Solvé (LVL 0, 3 SKP)

???

Homesteading

-Tidying (LVL 0, 2 SKP)

???

Speech

-Logic (LVL 0, 20 SKP) Ready to level up!

???

Total SKP: 32

I decided that my base camp in this house would be the kitchen, so I made my way there.

I had no way to know what the weather outside was doing, since I was locked inside, but I did feel colder than when I woke up in this house earlier.

Looking out the kitchen window, I saw no details, except that it was getting dark.

I eyed the large, brick fireplace. This would be a good start for my base. I needed warmth, and I had a feeling there would be no central heating in this old-fashioned hose.

There was a small stack of split logs, scattered next to the brick protrusion at the foot of the fireplace.

I picked up a quartered log and slapped my hand against the rough wood to get some of the dust off. The wood seemed fine to me, ready to use. Now, I guess I should mention, I have never started a fire before. So this would definitely be a learning experience.

I would have to learn quickly, I thought, as I shivered with the chill.

My two “guides” had followed me into the kitchen, and were perched on the tabletop.

“Do you need help? We could help you, if you want? Do you need anything?” Cheerful asked, flapping his wings. The crow had a habit of repeating itself. I found it irritating.

“Nope, all good thanks. Just going to get this fireplace going.” I said.

“It’s a hearth.” Aleister scoffed. Ok, whatever. Truthfully, I found my tutorial hints fairly unhelpful so far. They didn’t even know my name! Not that I knew it, either, but they both seemed supremely unconcerned with my Unspecified predicament.

I gathered a bunch of the quartered logs, and heaved them into the fireplace. Ash billowed out in a cloud, and I choked back coughs waving a hand in front of my face.

I had logs, now I needed kindling. At least, that was my best guess

I went to the aluminum trash can. I remembered throwing out bits and scraps of paper when I cleaned off the table.

I fished those out, and tore them up in my hands. It looked like the rough brown paper was butcher’s paper.

I threw the paper bits on the logs.

I almost panicked when I realized I had no lighter, but thankfully, there was a box of long, sturdy matches on the mantle of the hearth.

I lit a match, and stuck it on the paper. It caught fire! And immediately went out again. Not to be discouraged, and in possession of a full box of matches, I tried again. And again. I tried until all my “kindling” was burnt up. Some of the bigger pieces stayed lit a little longer, but they still had no hope of catching fire to the logs underneath.

I shivered. What was I doing wrong? The answer was probably everything.

Aleister had pounced onto the mantle of the fireplace.

“What do you think?” I asked. I did not want to admit defeat yet, but I definitely needed help. I just wasn’t excited about asking for it.

“Hm, maybe stack those logs a bit. Try to make a little cabin out of them.” The cat drawled, lazily flicking his tail. That was uncharacteristically helpful.

I did exactly as he said. It was easy, since the fireplace had gone completely cold after my botched attempts to start a fire.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Get more of that paper. And some sticks if you can find them.” The cat instructed.

I did as I was told, and brought over more paper from the trash. I found some sticks scattered between the cache of logs to the side of the hearth.

“See if you can slip that under the logs.” Aleister said.

After stacking the logs as Aleister suggested, I now had an inch or so of space underneath my logs. I carefully slipped the paper, and some of the thinner sticks underneath.

Aleister jumped down from his perch and examined my handiwork. He must have found it satisfactory.

“Now try lighting it.”

I stuck a lit match to the inside of my little log cabin, and lit the kindling. It caught, the few sticks I threw in started catching as well.

I looked at the fire, my breathing heavy with exertion. The cat sat with me, as we both watched the flames spread.

The fire took its sweet time, but the flames spread, spread, and kept spreading. Aleister instructed me to find some more sticks and a fire poker. I added the sticks, and poked at the fire under the cat’s watchful gaze. When it seemed steady, I stood up.

I threw my hands wide. I made fire! I felt a primal joy at my creation. I would survive the cold night! All by my own hands.

Alright, alright, so the cat helped a little.

As if to mirror my mood, I got a congratulatory text box.

+5 EXP

1 Skill Unlocked!

+5 SKP Fire Tending (Homesteading)

Just as I was about to open my character sheet, a plume of ash flew into my face. The fire was going, and the logs were lit, but all the dust, ash, and used coals were now being spit out of the hearth and into the air.

“You really should have cleaned the ash out first.” The cat said, and yawned. Ah, there we go. Thanks for mentioning that now, buddy.

“But it’ll be okay! For a while at least! There’s always a next time!” Cheerful joined the cat on the ledge of the hearth, and was bobbing up and down as he talked to me.

“We’ll be nice and warm! The ash is not so good, it’s not so great, but it will be okay! Not so scary, a little ash?”

I agreed with him.

As the fire burned, and the two animals warmed themselves beside it, I explored more of the kitchen. Specifically, I was looking for food.

After rooting around the cabinets for some time, I found a burlap sack half full of apples. I expected them to be rotten, but as I took one out, I saw a fat, yellow apple, with just a hint of pink blush on one side. Perfect. I grabbed a couple of these, and a rusty knife from the dirty dish mountain that lived in the sink. I wiped the knife off on my pant leg, and began cutting.

My two guides joined me at the table shortly.

As I laid out the cut up apple, Cheerful edged closer.

“Do you want some?” I asked unsure. Did crows eat fruit?

“Oh yes, oh yes please! I’d love some, thank you, thank you!” The crow said. I pushed over half an apple towards him, and he happily began pecking at it.

I looked over at Aleister. Cats definitely didn't eat apples.

“Would you like something to eat?” I asked.

“No.” Aleister answered curtly. I looked over at Cheerful, happily munching on apple slices.

“I guess I should find you some food.” I said, looking at the cat.

“I’ll be fine.” He replied.

Aleister was being difficult, but I couldn’t blame him too much. I had refused help earlier too, even when it was painfully obvious that I needed it.

“Ok, If I wanted meat for myself, where would I find some?” I asked.

Aleister pounced over to one of the cabinets. I followed, and opened it up.

Behind some mason jars of mystery pickled vegetables, I found a couple of aluminum cans. I fished them out, and found preserved tuna.

There was a rusty, hook-like can opener on the floor, which I had spotted earlier. I struggled with the can, and nearly cut my fingers off in the process, but eventually it came open.

I found the least dirty bowl in the overflowing sink. I ran it under the tap, scrubbing at it with my fingertips and then dried it off with my shirt. I felt the cat’s green eyes following my every movement.

Plopping the tuna into the bowl, I then placed it on the wooden table. I made a show of smelling it.

“Actually, I don’t like fish. Do you mind having this? I don’t want to waste it.” I said.

“Fine,” was all Aleister had to say, but he did seem to enjoy his meal.

We sat there, Cheerful and I eating apples, and Aleister with his fish, and we all watched the fire burn. It was inky black outside, and I could hear the wind pick up into a howl.

On the floor in the corner, there was a whole pile of disused burlap sacks, their ends ripped open. I finished off my apple, stood up, and dragged the sacks over to the fire.

I went back to the bathroom, and found a couple of musty smelling towels as well. They would do. I brought them back to my base, and put them over the sacks.

Certainly, it was not a comfortable bed. In fact, calling it a bed was probably abusing the word. But my makeshift nest was a little better than sleeping on the hardwood floor. I sat down on the sacks and towels, and poked at the fire with my long iron. I tossed in a couple more logs. After making sure that the new additions didn’t ruin the chi of the fireplace, I laid down, and started closing my eyes.

Just before I fell asleep, I heard the flap of wings pretty close to my head, and a warm furry something curl up next to my legs. A smile stretched across my face as I drifted off.

Ending Status