According to Darric, we had six hours before Redfang arrived. In terms of real minutes, that wasn’t long at all. I was already planning things in my head.
Hilly put her wooden spoon in her almost empty stew bowl, and she pushed the bowl away and got to her feet. “Alright. I’m the head of defense in this clown house, so it looks like it’s down to me to sort this out. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”
We were quiet to a man and to a grunder, waiting to hear what she had to say.
She pointed at Oak.
“You and your other rats need to get the hell out of Blade’s Rest.”
With that, she sat back down, grabbed her bowl, and resumed eating.
Linc stared at her.
“What?” she said.
“That’s it?”
She shrugged. “Let the mean collection of computer code kill the meek computer code. We’re here to build a town, not get involved in the battle of fake rats.”
“Aw, come on. I mean, I know what you’re saying. But look at ’em! Look at their little faces! Josh?”
“I gotta say. I agree with Hilly, actually. I don’t see why we’d get involved in this even for a pouch of gold.”
It was then that a notification appeared in front of me.
Special Event – Protect Oak
Your settlement is soon to be under attack from a hostile grunder who seeks to kill one of his kind. Protect Chief Oak from harm, and earn a reward.
Rewards:
- 2500 gold
- 3x hamlet chests
“Maaaaaybe I spoke too soon,” said Hilly. “I mean, Linc’s right. Look at Oak and his little friends. Look at how cute they are.”
I stood up. “I don’t think we can hold out against so many grunders, but it’s worth a try with so much gold at stake. I wonder why we got this as an event, though?”
“Dynamic content,” said Linc. “The devs are trying to build the player-creation side of things. Random events will be a big part of that because it keeps things fresh. Add in the fact that our actions caused a complex chain of events and…well. yeah. This system frigging rules.”
“And all this, coming from a guy who never played BaS until recently.”
“What can I say? When I’m into something, I’m into it. I can read, ya know.”
I stood up. “If Redfang’s coming to us, then we better get this place defensible,” I said. “We ain’t got long.”
Hilly nodded. “Hey. Old rat man. Can you send a few of your vermin out to scout for us?”
Translating this for Hilly, I said something that I hoped sounded like, “Esteemed Chief Oak, your quickest grunders may be best deployed along our perimeter.”
Oak nodded. “It will be done.”
Just then, a notification told me that my language skill had already jumped up in rank to novice, which increased my comprehension and my ability to digest language books. I dismissed the notification.
“So the rats are scouting for us. Good. Everyone else,” said Hilly, “Follow me.”
“Where to?” said Linc.
“My workshop.”
Gorgal and Frenrita went to fetch their metal armor and their hammers. They also had a spare sword they could give to Hercule but he declined, disappearing into the back room of the tavern.
He came out holding a long, wooden box.
“Don’t worry yourselves, folks. I don’t need your weapons. I got my own.”
In one smooth motion he flipped the latch and opened the box, to reveal a gleaming blade resting on a bed of quilted fabric inside it. The blade was old, I could see that much even though it was clean and shiny. It was just an aura that it gave off, a scent of age and legend.
He dropped the box, kicked its underside with his boot and sent the sword spiraling in the air. He twisted on the spot and then caught it, ending his rotating by facing us and holding the sword with the point stretched outwards.
“Man, he’s cool,” said Hilly.
Hercule mimicked sword blows in the air. “This old thing’s just a relic from my old days.”
Hanz and Franz took Patti the mule and Yulf, Hercule’s horse, into their hut after badgering their parents until they secured permission. They were worried that if the animals were left outside they might get hurt, or they might get spooked and run away. Gorgal suggested hobbling them, but the boys couldn’t stand the idea of the beasts standing there, scared and unable to move, while a battle raged around them.
Linc, meanwhile, sprinted off toward his own workshop where he slammed the door. Soon enough, a strange yellow smoke rose from the chimney.
I headed outside of the Blade and Grunder, where I appraised our hamlet’s defense. I wasn’t at all happy with what I saw but then, I never expected to be invaded by forty grunders.
I took my last Instacraft potion from my inventory and pressed my finger against the glass until I absorbed its contents. When a notification told me that the potion was in effect, I got to work.
Four game hours until Redfang gets here. Not long at all.
First, I examined my inventory to see what materials I had to work with. I had steadily crafted through much of my lumber supply, and Linc was so wrapped up in potioneering that he hadn’t gathered more or purchased any more supplies from the loggers. I guessed that was my fault – I should have let him know I was running low.
Similarly, I had been planning to make another trip to Glenda Gildfree at the quarry to put in another order for stone. I could hardly do that now, so I was going to have to improvise.
Using the very last of our timber, I created a new fence wall surrounding our existing fence, with a small gap between them. A man would struggle to walk through it, and he’d have to go sidewise if he persevered with the attempt. On the tops of both fences I placed nails with the sharp ends pointed upwards and slightly slanted, making them difficult to climb over without giving yourself the BaS version of stigmata.
My hope was that even if the grunders got over the first fence, this would leave them in between it and my original fence. Faced with the choice of trying to climb yet another nail-studded fence or just following the narrow walkway and hoping to find an easier way into the hamlet, that would delay them enough for us to launch an attack.
I headed to Linc’s workshop, where I had to knock on the door seven times before he answered. He was wearing a leather apron and some goggles, as well as thick gloves that reached to his elbows. His apron was covered by all kinds of stains and even though it was made from thick leather, parts of it had dissolved away. I reckoned Linc was going to burn through lots of aprons as long as he was a potioneer.
“Yup?” he said, his face glistening with sweat.
I explained to him about the two fences and the narrow passageway.
“What I’m hoping is that you can make something we can throw on ‘em while they’re trapped in the walkway between fences. We’ll call it – ‘The Passageway of Death.’”
“Nice name. You need something fiery?”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking that we’d just douse ‘em with water.”
Linc clicked his fingers and pointed at me. “Leave it to me.”
“Did you get that gesture from Hercule?”
He shrugged. “He’s a cool guy.”
The game hours ticked by way too quickly, and even with instacrafting it didn’t leave me much time to do anything else.
As Oak’s scouts fled back into the hamlet, Hilly arrived adorned in her finest leather armor, holding a new sword that she’d bought in Westfell and saved for a momentous occasion like this. It was a longsword by name, and it was easy to see why. It was almost as tall as she was, yet she held it with a relaxed grip like it was nothing. With my low strength attribute, my stance with the sword would have been much less refined.
Following her were Oak and his grunders. Some of them had leather armor of their own, such as I’d already seen them wear. Of the ones who had arrived here without leathers, Hill had quickly cobbled something together in her workshop. They looked ridiculous, but at least they had a little more protection. Oak and some of his more elite warriors – if you could call them that – wore steel claw caps that were well-worn and reaching the end of their durability, judging by the many dents on them.
The hamlet became a cauldron of noise as we made our last preparations. Hercule thought twice about leaving Yulf in a hut and instead led him out, saddled him, and then climbed onto him. He galloped in a circumference around the village, swinging his sword in practice arcs to loosen up. Hilly took charge of the grunders, placing them in strategic points around the hamlet's inner fence.
By far the most imposing of us were Gorgal and Frenrita. They were huge in any case, but their great metal chest pieces and blackened steel head visors that hid their cheery faces added another aspect of menacing power to their statures.
“Josh. Hilly. Come here a sec.”
Linc was standing in the doorway of his workshop. The two of us followed him inside, where the air smelled like a mix of sulfur and something vinegary.
“Don’t worry about the fumes,” said Linc. “They’re toxic as hell, but they’re mostly vented, and this ain’t real life anyhow.”
A wooden workbench was pushed up against the wall. While the workbench that I’d created for myself was perfunctory and well-finished, with perfectly sanded edges and a pleasant dark hue– hell, the thing could have come from Ikea – Linc had asked for something different. He wanted his workbench to look rough. Uneven. Like it had been made in the forest by some woodland-dwelling society.
“I hate stuff that looks too well-made,” he told me.
On top of his bench were four dozen vials, each of them filled with liquids of various colors and consistency.
“They’re mostly rated minor to mediocre,” Linc explained. “Best I could do under the circumstances. I’m close to getting the skilled rank in potioneering, though.”
Hilly approached the workbench. “Looks like you’ve done plenty enough to me. What’re we looking at?”
“None of us use mana, so you’ll notice there are no mana potions. Exhaustion might be a factor if the fight goes on long enough, so grab a couple of the yellow potions each. Red ones are for healing, obviously, and I made plenty. Take six each. Hilly, maybe you wanna take more, considering how much we need you.”
Hilly saluted. “You got it.”
I didn’t know whether to be offended that I evidently wasn’t as needed in the fight as Hilly, or glad that my risk of death and a debuff was less. I decided to adopt an attitude of gratitude, as became the new outlook on life that I was trying really, really hard to foster.
Linc carried on. “The black potions are something called Betty’s Whistle. They’ll explode and catch fire when the glass is broken with enough force. You can either physically hold ‘em and then throw them at folks, or tap the glass with two fingers, and a cursor will appear.”
“Can’t wait to try ‘em,” said Hilly.
“This looks great. You’ve been busy,” I told Linc.
He nodded. “Can’t say I’m happy that I’m making stuff that explodes. But still. Let’s get this over with and we can go back to nice, calm, Blade’s Rest.”
“Josh. Catch.”
Holly tossed something at me. It looked like a leathery snakeskin. When I caught it, I saw that it was a quick-access potion belt with twenty access slots, ten on each side.
I took the two healing potions off my current belt and put it in my inventory to sell the next time I met a merchant. After fastening on my new belt, I filled one side with healing and exhaustion potions, and the other with Betty’s Whistle.
“Just one last thing,” said Linc.
From his inventory he took out three more potion vials that he held with the reverence of a steward holding the king’s crown and being scared to drop it.
“One for you, Hilly. And Josh, here’s one for you.”
We each took a potion from him. Hilly pulled the cork off her vial. From inside the glass came a wailing scream.
She dropped the glass. Linc quickly made a kneeling motion and caught it, then breathed out in relief.
“Yeah. Don’t do that.”
“This is the banshee Polkweed thingy, isn’t it?” I said.
“The flower we almost got killed by a bear to get?”
“Almost?”
“You know what I mean.”
Linc nodded. “One-of-a-kind flowers. Now that I picked it from the Crookshack woods, it’ll respawn in a different region in BaS, and it’ll move around the region every day. It’s more elusive than your front door keys when you’re in a rush to get out.”
“What does it do?” asked Hilly.
“Easy. Drink the potion and then focus on an enemy. It’ll mark them as ‘wailed’, which is where the banshee name comes from. When they’re marked, they suffer a 50% reduction in defense.”
“You got more of this plant?” I asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t use all of it. Maybe half. I’m saving the rest for when my potioneering improves and I can make more potions using less of the plant.”
“It’s about time Redfang got here,” said Hilly. “Let’s go exterminate some rats.”
Outside the workshop, Oak’s grunders were spread throughout the hamlet. The smaller, sleeker ones were clinging onto parts of the fence and staring out into the fields of Gobbler’s Creek beyond. The bigger, stronger grunders surrounded Oak.
I headed over to Gorgal and Frenrita. “Are you sure you wanna fight?”
Gorgal pounded his chest, making the metal ring. “Blade’s Rest is home.”
He was wearing an unusual amount of jewelry to complement his metal chestpiece. When he saw me staring at them, he pointed at each piece in turn. First, the metal bracer on his left wrist, and then he went on to explain each item in turn.
“Bracer to increase strength. Bracer to make less tired. Ring of strength, another ring of strength. Ring of replenish health.”
“Guy’s got more bling than Mr. T,” said Hilly.
From across the hamlet came a grunder, scampering over the grassy areas and then onto the limestone path. Its pace, coupled with the change in terrain, made it slip, but it righted itself and headed to Oak where it said something so quickly that I couldn’t translate it.
Oak approached me. “Redfang is here.”
“Alright everyone,” I said. “Good luck.”
“That’s all ya got, Maximus Decimus Meridius? Good luck?” said Hilly.
I shrugged and cupped my hand around my mouth. “What we do in life, echoes in eternity!”
Grunders scattered to their planned positions, while Hilly, Linc, and I headed to a northeast part of the inner fence, where Redfang’s approach had been spotted.
I took out three wooden benches from my inventory and placed them by the fence. These were simple wooden steps that let us see over the fence when we stood on them.
“Holy shit that’s a lot of grunders,” said Hilly.
Climbing onto my bench, I peered over the inner fence to see a horde of rat-like warriors tearing across the plains. They were dressed for war, wearing not just grunder-customized leathers, but also metal shoulder pads with spikes jutting from them.
Redfang led the way. Bigger and stronger than the rest, he was also the fastest and he was at the head of the column and quickly gaining ground on the hamlet.
“Time for some pest control,” said Hilly.
The grunders reached the outer fence. Some of them started climbing it, only to put their paws through the nails I’d placed on top. One grunder managed to place his paws on a part of the fence that was free from nails, only to receive a sword blow to the head from Hilly. He lost his grip, falling down onto his friends and knocking them off the fence.
Now that I knew which part of the fence they were focusing on, I used my crafting menu.
This structure belonged to me, so I was free to add or modify it as I wished. While adding stuff took time – if I didn’t have an Instacraft effect – removing things was instantaneous.
I removed a panel of the fence, giving the grunders access to the walkway between the outer and inner fences.
It was so narrow that they could only scurry into it one at a time.
Hilly placed her fingers against one of her black exploding potions.
“Steady…” I said.
“They’re getting in.”
“We want them to.”
We did nothing, letting the grunders file into the small passageway. When the last of them were inside, I used my improvisation skill to replace the section of the fence that I’d dismantled, trapping them in an inner looped hallway that had no way in or out.
The grunders soon realized their predicament. Some of them began to scrabble over the walls, while others pushed and shoved against each other, searching for a way out.
“Okay,” I said.
I tapped two fingers against a black potion on my belt. A crosshair appeared on my display, and I aimed it at the grunders and threw it.
The vial smashed against the fence and the liquid inside exploded in a fiery rain that fell on their backs. To the left and right of me came more shattering glass.
Soon, the inner passageway was a spectacle of burning grunders. Some of them scurried over the walls, not caring about the nails on top. All told, fifteen of them made it over the fence and into Blade’s Rest, where they rolled on the grass until the fire on them extinguished.
“Here we go!” shouted a voice.
Hercule galloped forward on his horse. In the corner of his mouth was a rolled cigarette, and in his right hand he held his sword, twisting the hilt in his hand as he neared the grunders.
With great, thudding steps, Gorgal and Frenrita stomped to meet the invaders. Four grunders set on them, and with one swing of his hammer, Gorgal sent them sailing up high, arcing way over the fences and landing somewhere in the fields beyond with a crunch of shattering bones.
Oak gave a command and his protectors separated, each heading for one of Redfang’s warriors.
Redfang himself charged toward Oak.
As imposing as Redfang was, his leather armor was almost burned away, and only his metal shoulder bracers were intact. His gait was less sure than before, and his back right paw was badly burned.
As he neared Oak, I used stonemasonry and a last piece of stone to craft a step right in front of him. Knowing that there would be a few seconds of delay as it constructed, I aimed it a little further ahead of him.
His momentum carried him into it, and he tripped and tumbled, rolling along the grass and coming to a stop on his back, not far from Oak.
Hilly stepped in front of him and delivered a downwards swing with her sword, cleaving the warrior grunder in two. The split pieces of him landed in the grass.
Seeing their leader lying in pieces, many of the remaining grunders fled. Of those who didn’t, Gorgal, Hercule, and Frenrita warily took care of them, stabbing and hammering until the air around Blade’s Rest was silent once again.