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Chapter 6: Bushwhacking in the Buff

With the full scope of his situation laid out before him, Ulric took stock. He was still naked. He was healthy, as a quick check of his status informed him. His stamina was likewise still full, which indicated that he truly was at peak fitness as even a rather quick ascent of several hundred feet of elevation had failed to wind him. Or, now he thought on it, even significantly affect his breathing. No discomfort in the muscles of his legs and back. He was still operating purely aerobically.

"I'll kiss that Watcher if I ever see her again." he told the tree he was leaning against. If he'd been in his old body he'd still be half way up that ridge and he'd be in mortal agony at having to climb it so quickly.

But. He'd located neither anything he could use for tools nor fire. He'd found no options for shelter that didn't involve digging into the soil under the leaves or attempting to climb a tree and camp underneath branches. He wasn't yet hungry but that had to be coming. He was slightly thirsty. As he thought of it, he realized he'd been awake in this world less than two hours and hadn't yet voided his bladder. That problem he resolved presently.

He had a goal now. A bearing. And it was as much a pipe dream as had been the graphene deposition simulation he'd written a lifetime ago. There was simply no goddamn way he was climbing down that cliff face without equipment. Or magic.

"Huh." he exclaimed. "I guess that's now an actual option. So long as I can figure it out in the near future." he remembered the warning given before the Watcher had left. He could potentially do himself harm if he wasn't careful. Magic was a new variable, with unclear limits, and almost no parallels to which he could draw from his previous life. A black box into which he was somewhat reluctant to place his dick without more information. Important not to fall into the trap of having a hammer and starting to believe every problem looked like a nail.

Before he could use magic to solve problems though he needed to get a stable position from which to relax. Once he had that he could determine some safety protocols, and establish an experimental methodology that would allow him to make progress in understanding magic.

The immediate problem though was that he was still buck naked and without shelter. As if cued the wind blew and Ulric felt a sharp chill crawling over his skin that replaced the flushed warmth of the climb. Skin prickled and goose flesh rose as he rubbed his hands over his arms.

Damnit, he thought, that breeze was carrying quite the bite. Having decided where he wanted to go he began a quick descent from the ridge, using two of the giant trunks one to his left and the other to his right as directional beacons. Easy to get lost in strange terrain, especially when you had to detour half a football field to go around an obstructing arbor. Thankfully he had begun to warm up with the movement, to the point that he actually felt a mild perspiration at his scalp.

A half kilometer of gradual descent had him between two rises, following the bearing he'd taken between his guide trees. The terrain had somewhat changed, with more rock jutting from the forest floor, disrupting the leaf layer. A good sign, that indicated he would reach the escarpment in a few more kilometers. Maybe he could find a spring or some kind of rocky water catch, he was starting to feel the need to get something to drink.

At the top of the next rise he finally had his diligence rewarded, a fallen giant had broken the canopy. He hadn't been able to see it from the high ridge as it lay nearly halfway filling a gulley between wrinkles in the land. The void left by the ancient had created a skylight through which golden light poured down, bathing the entire area in soft morning light. Low shrubs grew around and on the corpse of the old tree and so too did a kaleidoscopic array of flowers he'd ever seen. Flowering bushes, vines, small trees, grasses, and weeds of myriad shape each fought for space, vying to fill the pocket of light.

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Excitement strained against caution, so Ulric forced himself to a light stepping jog, taking care to mind his footing on the rock strewn, soft forest floor down the hill to the clearing. And there! Towering roots that had rent the ground had opened rocks in what had to have been apocalyptic violence. In a rock hollow where one root had drilled deeply into the stone, a pool of water lie pristinely clear. Smiling now he broke into a sprint. And what a surprise that was! It was the first time he'd actually pushed himself and the result was a bit of a shock, he'd covered fifty or sixty meters in only a dozen or so seconds. And he knew he had more in the tank.

Breathing more heavily now, he shivered against the cool air around the rock pool and knelt over the water. The reflection of a stranger stared back at him and checked his action. He distinctly remembered that last time he'd lay blurry eyes on himself in the mirror before his final day of work. Hair just as dark as it had been, a brown close to black, but longer. He'd kept his hair trimmed to near buzz cut, but it was now several inches long, not long enough to get in his eyes or be obtrusive but long enough to be noticed. Same slightly too sharp jawline, same aquiline nose, same grey eyes. He'd never been accused of being pretty but he had a sort of distinctive feature that appealed to some women, and even a few men, although he'd never had that kind of interest. But it wasn't his face that had him stunned to stillness, it was the body. That pudgy wreck was dead and gone, and in his place was an athlete. The impossible did good work.

Breaking from his indulgence in vanity Ulric drank deeply of the icy waters, caring nothing for the potential for microbial life. Not in water this cold, and filtered through who knows how much rock. Not to mention a distinct lack of animal sign. He wasn't an expert tracker or anything, but water holes like this generally attracted game enough that it didn't take a great deal of skill or experience to recognize the traces things left when they spent time at pools like this. No scat, no marks, no fur, no tracks, nothing to indicate that an animal had been here recently.

Fortune smiled as he investigated a section of broken canopy some three hundred fifty meters away from the torn up roots and rock pool. The smaller branches had sprouted in sections which were long and straight enough to be of use as a walking stick or polearm shaft, about as thick around as his wrist. The bark on these sections wasn't smooth but neither did it cause discomfort, just enough texture to make a sure grip. The limbs broke with some resistance, though he doubted he could have bent them enough to break in his prior condition. After having collected a significant armload he headed back to the torn roots, to prepare a recessed hollow in which to create a shelter and fire lay.

In that previously cool area, Ulric noted that he was probably going a little too fast, since he was feeling slightly overwarm. Another quick drink after dropping off his materials made sure he stayed on top of hydration and he returned his attention to the rocks to find some shards that might be useful to make a flint knife, or to use to create shelter flooring and firepit.

Forty minutes more steady work saw a sharpened rock shard cutting a notch into a lengthwise split branch which Ulric planned to use in a fire plough manner to create a usable coal. Dry forest grasses and leaves would serve as acceptable tinder, though he wasn't 100% comfortable with the amount or quality of tinder he'd managed to obtain. The forest kept things shaded and relatively damp, which made friction fires a test of endurance, and turned marginal tinders into fire starting material about as useful as a wet paper towel.

Fixing the plough board into a notch in the dirt with a leaf under the notch to catch any coal that formed, Ulric anchored the plough with his foot, took up his plough stick, and leaned forward to work the board until he'd burned in a furrow. Once burned in, he braced the foot board and applied a steady downward force driving the plough backwards and forwards rapidly. Minutes passed while he worked steadily. Small tendrils of smoke rose, wooden board blackened, and the smell of not quite burned wood drifted into his nostrils. Thus inspired Ulric increased the speed of his hands, driving the plough faster while trying not to disturb the plough board and loosen any coal that might form underneath the notch.

Significant smoke rose from the notch and Ulric quickly lay aside the plough stick and lifted the foot board, gently tapping the rest of the blackened ash into the lit coal. Raising up the leaves holding this coal and carefully adding grasses and crushed dried leaves to it, he gently cradled his hope and blew it to life inside the tinder bundle. Heat began to flare from the center of the leaf/grass bundle, and smoke poured out from the now forming ember. Ulric knew this next part would require some delicacy. He blew gently into the bundle held in his hands until a flame suddenly poured out from the top of the fledgling fire and he, as rapidly as possible without disrupting the fire, placed this into the firepit and stacked leaves and small twigs loosely on top of it. The flame took, leaves transferring embers to thin twigs, which blazed up to catch larger sticks.

"Hah! I did it, it worked!" his voice rose in near hysterical joy. "It. FUCKING! WOOOORKED!"