The Dark Lord of Crafting

Celaeno was squawking to get my attention as soon as the sun rose.

I'd built myself a bomb shelter. It wasn't anything fancy, a few rooms equipped with Eternal Torches, extra tools, and the materials left over from construction. A worktable was a must, and a bed. That was basically the extent of all the furniture I knew how to craft. Three wool and three planks was all the bed formula called for. If I hadn't spent so many nights confining myself to a sleeping coffin, I would have made them sooner.

They didn't reset my respawn point, but they were comfortable.

"I hear you!" I called, and Fuzzu snorted in disapproval. Esmelda's horse had spent the night standing in a corner, visibly displeased with the entire situation. She was tense being underground.

Celaeno was topside, so to get to her I had to mine out the blocks I'd used to seal myself in with a horse for the night. I'd brought enough stone to fill in the entire shelter, but the entrance would always be a weak point. Once it was clear, I took Fuzzu by the reins and led her up. She didn't love the stairs, but navigated them without incident, and we shortly faced with a small gang of harpies roosting in the surrounding grass.

"A new meat," Celaeno said. One of her talons was resting atop what looked to be half of a green and yellow squid. "It has excellent flavor."

Fuzzu trotted off to one side, not wanting to be near either the harpies or their gruesome trophy. I squatted down to get a better look.

The remains were about two feet long, missing most of its arms. Each limb ended on a round mouth, the same thing that hid under the skin-cloaks of the zombies. They'd already eaten its eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Kulu," Celaeno preened herself. "We have not seen them in this lifetime, but my kind remembers."

"Were there a lot of them?"

"Some, they hid in the trees. We caught them. It was enjoyable."

"I'm glad you had fun." The harpies never tired of hunting mobs. Their only regret seemed to be that they weren't big enough to take on trolls.

"In the night," Celaeno said, "shadows spread from the mountain. Searching."

"Zombies?"

She poofed her feathers. "No. Taller, faster, darker. We did not know them, so we did not attack. Their movement was disturbing."

"So that's two new monsters." The humanoids they were describing would have come with the army. But the squid things had spawned around me. It had been a while since anything new had spawned around me, but the fact that it was happening now didn't strike me as a good omen. I checked for notifications.

Journal Quests Notifications Materials Crafting

Achievement: Survivor (3)

You have lived for three consecutive months. Congratulations. Base physiology adjusted accordingly.

The veil of the world around you will continue to weaken as you advance. Discuss solutions with your mentor.

"Hey," I said, shifting my arm so that Celaeno could see the screen. "Do you know anything about this?"

The harpies violet gaze shifted from me to the floating blue dialog box and back again.

"I cannot read."

"It's talking about the veil weakening. Mobs spawn around me because something about my existence is bad for the fabric of reality, right?" There was no point in asking her about a mentor. The System had mentioned that before, but I didn't have one, and I didn't expect anyone to show up with answers soon.

"That is true," she said. "Magic weakens the world. It is our joy and our duty to devour it."

That was a fresh idea. Did the harpies see themselves as the winged version of a templar?

"Then why have you never tried to devour me?"

"Your kind is different. Chosen by the Blue Lady. If you find your path, you will give strength instead of stealing it."

"How?"

She lifted her wings in the bird equivalent of a shrug. "The Dark Lord knows. He turned aside."

So the only one who could tell me how to be less of a problem was the biggest problem on Plana. Perfect.

"Did you get a better look at the army? Or the machine?"

Celaeno bobbed her head. "Two demons are among them. Perhaps three. We did not fly close. The machine worked through the night, and an army stands behind. More than before. They are laying a road."

The delay that came with that kind of project was fortunate, but if they were going through all that trouble, it meant they were preparing the groundwork for an actual invasion. Hopefully, Godwod would take it seriously enough not to expect me to hold the line with a troop of lillits while he talked things over with the peerage.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll be heading back to town soon, but I'd like you to keep monitoring the situation here."

The harpies took off. As far as I could tell, they never slept. Either that, or they could nap in the air.

For the entrance to the shelter, I placed a door flat against the ground and attached buttons on either side. It wasn't as secure as I would have liked. Anyone could press the button, but the mechanical lock Kevin had used in the way station was still beyond my skill set. If it came down to it, the button on the outside could be removed so only someone below could open and shut the door. It would function as a safe room.

The best defense this place had was that it was a random stretch of overgrown field. Thanks to the grass, the stone marker wasn't visible from a distance. There was always a risk that Kevin knew this was a spawn point, but I deemed that to be unlikely. If he had been aware that a Survivor had come into the world here, he could have already sent minions to camp the area. That's what I would have done.

It was early afternoon when I returned to town, dropped Fuzzu off at the communal stable, and went looking for Esmelda. The various construction projects, new homes, and our first official shop, were not in progress. A few lillits were tending animals or fields, but most of the activity was around the mine. People were porting supplies and furniture into the tunnel.

A lillit woman I didn't recognize stopped me. She looked frazzled, her hair half in a bun, with worry adding lines to her face.

"Baron," she said. "Is it true? Is the Dark Lord coming for us?"

"I don't know," I said. "But there are Dargothians on the mountain. I'm going to speak with Godwod, and we'll do everything we can to keep the people here safe." I would, anyway. Godwod had never expressed an immense amount of sympathy for the lillits.

"But are they coming here?" She held onto the sleeve of my tunic like it was a lifeline. I hadn't worn armor on the trip out, mostly to show Esmelda that I didn't intend to start a fight, as well as spare Fuzzu the extra weight.

Perrin detached himself from a conversation with some of his apprentices and hurried over.

"Dayla," he said, "don't bother the Baron. He's going to do everything he can."

The woman's cheeks reddened, and she stepped away.

"It's alright," I said. "There's plenty of reason to be concerned."

"It isn't seemly," Perrin smoothed his hefty mustache. "The more we panic, the more panic there will be." He put his arm around the woman, who I assumed was his wife, and led her away.

"Gastard's looking for you," he said as he turned. "I think he's walking the ridge."

The mine was dug out of a rocky fold of land that made up the long side of Williamsburg. The town had largely been built along its lee. Though it offered little protection, going back and forth across the ridge was too much of an inconvenience for much work to have been done on the other side when there was plenty of space where we were.

I spotted Gastard, backlit by the sun, as the lone elevated figure. He came down before I climbed up, already decked out in the iron suit I had crafted for him, everything but the helmet. His dirty blonde hair was cut short, and he'd recently shaved. There was a burn mark on his jaw, a dark patch of skin that was the only visible reminder of when he had been nearly killed by Beleth's lightning.

"You went without me." He said.

"It was a build project. I didn't get close to the enemy."

His brow furrowed, his blue eyes narrowing. "What were you building?"

"A hideaway. I've told Esmelda how to find it, no one else. If something happens to me, or the town, I want you to take her there."

He straightened, bringing a gauntleted fist to his chest. "Of course. The duty is an honor."

"You're the only one I would trust to do it," I said.

He nodded, taking the statement as a given. "The townsfolk are preparing to shelter in the mine," he said. "What would you have me do?"

"I need to see Godwod. Letters are one thing, but I won't be sure of what he's going to do unless we can talk in person."

"You can't trust him," Gastard said.

"He's all we've got. At the very least, he's on the side of the kingdom. I know you have a history with him, but he hasn't screwed me over yet, aside from demanding all my gold."

"Shall I accompany you?"

"I would prefer if you stayed with the lillits. They aren't exactly an organized fighting force, and I want you to keep an eye on things."

He grunted. "I've been training a group that fancied themselves the town guard. Their progress disappoints me."

"As bad as me?"

"Yes and no," a slight quirk of the mouth, almost a smile. "You have improved. And your strength makes up for some of your lack in skill. The little folk do not have that advantage."

"How is their archery?" I asked. "I could pump out as many bows as we needed."

He shook his head. "They are excellent marksmen, but the bows you craft have to heavy a draw for even the larger men. They have some of their own, and I expect them to make good use of them when there is need."

I had an early dinner with Esmelda before setting out to Henterfell. We didn't go all the way back to the farm, instead making a picnic for ourselves atop the ridge. There wasn't a lot of room for that sort of thing, but plenty of rocks to sit on, and it gave us a good view of the town. The ridge itself was only high enough to put us at a level with the roof of the longhouse, which was still the highest structure in town.

Esmelda's hair was down, and the light cast gold highlights along the edges of its profile. We were having egg sandwiches. Chickens were a recent addition to the livestock of the town, and they had quickly become a primary source of protein.

"I was thinking about names," she said, placing her barely nibbled sandwich in the basket beside her.

"For the baby?"

"Hmm. I like Zeraphine for a girl."

"That's…unique. What if it's a boy?"

"I'm not sure. Zaren, maybe. Would you want him to have your name? That's common in Drom. Less common here, though the Perrinson family certainly sticks to the tradition."

"No." I said. We would not go the route of Perrin Perrinson. "I've always liked Leto, and I'm pretty sure it works for either a boy or a girl."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I've never heard it."

"It's from my world's mythology." Leto was the mother of Apollo and Artemis, but that wasn't actually why I liked the name. It belonged to my favorite character in the Dune series. That wasn't a great reference, given that the Leto of fiction had turned into a giant space worm monster and ruled half a galaxy as a tyrant for thousands of years, but it had stuck with me. My other preference for naming a child was "Starscream," but no one was ever going to go for that.

"I don't hate it," she said, smiling. "But we should discuss a few other options as well."

We did.