One Moo'r Plow

Axe grasped tight within my grip, I stared out upon all that was mine and pondered. Not an unusual thing as of late, I had come to notice. Now, however, I happened to sport and considerable fortune and even more considerable expectations. Beings of great power had taken interest in my doings, and it now my task to deal with this. The sheer amount of coin I now boasted staggered me once it had settled in.

With great gold now came even greater possibilities. By my lonesome, I now trod the worn paths that led through my land, my mind aflame. My primary focus should be expansion, I concluded. More land to farm meant more resources and more possibility for ever-more gorwth. I had gold, a veritable wealth of it. And I was no dragon to hoard it all with supreme jealousy.

I was well aware that coin unspent felt wasted, yet I had a specific skill that rewarded hoarding. Fine was the balance I would have to strike, but I was equal to this task. All the worries of politics and conflicts put aside, I fantasized at what my farm would become.

More land could be cleared at haste. I stood for a moment, axe in hand that Ishila had returned until she needed it once more. Twas late in the afternoon now, and yet why delay for a future time what could be wrought now?

The repetition of hewn trees and ripped stumps soon settled in as I began to clear suitable parts of the forest. And once more my thoughts returned to the future even as I caught a falling tree and heaved it aside. The sun roasted down, a mild irritation as I idly stacked massive trunks and plotted what was to come.

A greenhouse was what I would like the most, I decided. A large, enclosed space to safely contain and grow the various breeds of monstrous plants that now ran rampant across my fields. A location where I could experiment in relative peace and safety. The crude stone walls I had erected to separate monster-plants and crops had been quickly outgrown till both spilled together in a messy affair.

More cleared land did not have to mean simply crops, I realized between strained pulls at a particularly stubborn section of roots. More pasture could be sown and cultivated in case I wished to expand in livestock. Space for buildings, should the situation call for such.

By methodical fashion, I cleared through sections of the underbrush, with only overturned dirt and shredded foliage left in my wake. Yet for the precision with which I worked, my thoughts were not the same. The subjects of new buildings and crops was soon left behind as I instead wondered what else I could now acquire.

A proper team of horses, a decent wagon, an actual stone well so I needed not rely on the river solely for water? It would be satisfactory to have my drinking water taken from another source. One possibility left half-explored as more entered my mind.

I had gold. And coin spoke in volumes louder than any other. Doors were now opened to me, wether I wanted their opportunity or not.

Ishila shared some of my excitement, I found. The orc had found her way back to the farm and was rending me aid with a grin writ upon her face. She dragged away felled trees to stack them as we progressed, hauled up boulders and tossed them into sizeable piles. The rewards from laying low a godling had not just gone to me, I saw then. The System had rewarded her heavily.

“I’ve come to wonder these past few days,” I grunted and physically shoved a tree over. The sound of its trunk being violently broken resounded through the air to interrupt me. Only once it had struck the ground did I continue with my deliberations.

“Mmmm. Go on.” Ishila urged after a moment of wrestling with the jagged trunk.

“The Gods Above. Never paid much heed to them, until now. Given my due respects, far back as I remember, but never really wondered about them.”

“Fair ‘nuff.”

“How active of a role do they take, in this day and age? My own race and people had a rather estranged relationship with them, far as I can recall.”

I had always lacked the reason to even ask these questions before, although we had discussed this theology and some of the more well-known stories over supper before.

“Well enough, I ‘spose. Far as anyone can tell, they’ve always just been there. Pa’ has told me that there’v been’ many attempts to understand ‘em, but you can’t apply mortal reasonin’ to un-mortal beings.” She prefaced and waxed poetic even in the midst of hauling a tangle of bushes away.

“It seems like they really do whatever they please.” Ishila chewed over her words. “Not in the way rampant children would, but they’re ungoverned by any rules, far as pa’ could tell. Only really kept in check by each other. And even then that tends tah’ shift quick as you please.”

“Huh.” Several moments of labor passed before I digested that fully. “It surprises me that the world is not an apocalyptic wasteland, then. Beings of absolute power doing as they wish?”

“By mortal reasonin’, that should be the case.” She nodded in agreement. “But again, these are un-mortal beings.”

“Pa’ has this inane theory that they view us in the same way we view ants. Entertainin’, for a time. Endearin’ in our efforts, even. But ultimately of no consequence and replaceable.”

“That only reinforces my belief that they would be cruel gods, though.”

The orc frowned and thought that over for several moments.

“The Gods Above just..are. You’re attemptin’ to apply mortal thinkin’ and reasonin’ to beings that just..aren’t. I know the example doesn’t make sense, but think of it like this; Just because you can step on an anthill and destroy everythin’ within, does that mean you will?”

“No.” Came the thoughtful answer. “No I wouldn’t.”

“That’s where the thinkin’ differs, methinks. We do everythin’ for gain, for growth, in one way or another. Greater glory, more riches, better connections and bonds with people. But they are gods. They already have everythin’.”

She made a fantastic point here, and one I was surprised to see her so well-thought on. Once more I was reminded that Ishila had hidden layers that I was not aware of, if indeed I had even searched for those before.

“If they are such powerful beings, what is the distinction between a God and a Godling then? I have heard both terms used several times. The cleric at the fort, the one you hired to care for me served the Red Godling, while others I have heard referred to the Gods Above and Below.”

“I don’ rightly know. Pa’ would be much better versed on this. But I think it’s time. The Overmind tried to ascend, but it was in the weakest possible state a Godling could be in. And that was before Valencia latched on and tore away like half its power. If there have been other ascensions throughout history, then they have been lost to time.”

“I had thought the only way to ascend was to reach the one-hundreth level.” I frowned. Yet this had been proven wrong. Or not.

“I think that ascends you right into a full God.” Ishila leaned against a stack of trees taller than she was and wiped the sweat from her brow. “But there are other ways to become a Godling. It’s also mostly Godlings that directly touch the world and their followers, now that I think of that. Huh.”

“Speaking of which.” I veered the conversation off-track into a topic I needed to sort out lest my memory fail me later. “We need hired help.”

I thoroughly laid out my vision of expansion for Ishila as we continued along the receding edge of the forest, stripping away trees and foilage to render the land bare. Infrequently poised questions aside, she seemed content to let me continue until I had thoroughly exhausted every avenue possible.

“Well then.” She nodded cheerfully. “Your gonna need quite a few strong backs and weak minds to keep all that goin’.”

“And therein lies my dilemma.” I frowned and wiped one dirty arm across my forehead. “I am not overtly eager to trust strangers around my farm, now of all times. More than ever, people will come to seek me out and attempt to take advantage of me, foolish as that is.”

“Way I see it, there are two possible avenues. Either thoroughly examine and brief everyone you hire to ensure they are somewhat trustworthy, or divorce yourself from them and allow them explicitly few positions. Hire them for certain tasks and certain tasks only. Be strict but fair. Watch their every move. Allow them only access to specific places and that’s it.”

“Your accent” I noted once she had finished. It was decidedly much less thick, with clearly pronounced words now.

“Yeah, yeah, been workin’ on it last month or so. Figured if people were gonna show up here I didn’t really wanna be seen as some hick girls slurrin’ her words.”

“Fair enough. Let me think on what you’ve said. Either way, once I have concluded this, we will need farmhands to keep this place in smooth motion. And between you and I, I would rather that be people I can trust than strangers I have to constantly babysit.”

“No one you would know comes to mind?”

They did not, indeed, and I stated as much.

“The only people I well and truly know are you, your parents, Le’rish and Raffnyk. And I would not be mistaken if I took a wild guess and predicted none of them are interested in the life of a farmhand.”

“Yah.” Ishila agreed. “I’d agree on that. Hiring strangers it is, then.”

Aside from actual warm bodies, we would need equipment, rudimentary as it was, more security and all the other wonderful perks that came associated with a larger farm.

“Have you perhaps thought of using a golem do the harvesting for you?” Ishila asked. “With the amount of farmland you plan to acquire, and considering just how much gold you have at hand, it would not be an unwise investment.”

I had not indeed thought of that, nor of golems in general. For some reason, the idea that autonomous labour could exist in a world without the technology I had grown used to had eluded me.

“Something to remember at a later date.” I nodded and hid my general ignorance. First chance I got, I would thoroughly educate myself on the topic. The old Garek’s memories proved unhelpful as the only golems he had encountered were across a battlefield. Perhaps if one might stretch the imagination enough they could compare war and farming, but I chose not to waste my time upon such matters.

“Whatever you decide to do first,” Ishila advised. “Do it fast. The interests of others a belssin’ and a curse. There are gonna be those who will attempt to trip you up an’ undermine you, both publicly an’ in private. Simply because you threaten to upset their settled water, real or perceived.”

“Sadly, I expected as much. There are those who would antagonize me for no other reason than to further their own name. To somehow use me as a footnote upon the pages of their own stories. I know this, and I will be prepared.”

“Tomorrow, we buy all the land possible.”

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