One Moo'r Plow

Logistics was something much easier in imagination than reality, I found. In mind’s eye, acquiring additional taur-cows for the herd was a task that had been all but fulfilled. I had help, Ishila had the location and the coin was at hand. Now, as I stared down a baleful herd of temperamental half-monsters, I found myself unsure.

There was remarkably little I could do with a small whip in one hand and a dream in the other. A half-hearted crack at the air elicited no more than a few snorts of disdain. The pressure of Skills waiting to be chosen hovered at the edge of my vision, forcibly ignored as I attempted to challenge the system’s patience.

“Harder.” Ishila grunted, followed by the air being loudly split apart. Her own whip came down mere handspans from a taur-cow’s face. If those flat faces could convey emotion, this one would be distinctly unimpressed.

“Should have brought Gol.” I sighed and contemplated the trek back. We would need to travel downhill, cut across several areas and finally meet up with the road that would lead back up the terrain towards my farm. I had started the journey exceptionally early with the assumption we would have returned by noon. I saw now my naivety and arrogance for daring to think that.

The farmer -if indeed I could call him that- offered no help whatsoever. He had happily taken my coin, opened the gate to the small, cramped pasture that contained this sullen herd, and promptly retreated to his decrepit cabin.

This was firmly our problem now. The sale had been made, and he had no further obligations in this matter.

“Off tah try an’ find the next big breakthrough.” Ishila mentioned once she followed my gaze. “That coin’s gonna be gone within the next full moon, I’d wager. Man could be half-rich by now but keeps throwin’ it at every new fancy an experiment that catches his eye.”

The sight of this shoddy cabin, run-down yard, sagged fences, overgrown weeds combined with the general gloom struck a feeling in me. Almost pity, but also a hint relief at my own situation, weirdly enough.

“This doesn’t make him enough coin?” I asked with another ineffective crack, my irritation mounting as the taur-cows refused to budge.

“Heavens, yes.” Ishila almost laughed. “There some folks that pay ludicrous amounts for some of his experiments, but, if ya’ don’t mind me bein’ blunt, he pisses it all away. New toys he uses once and never again, some expensive enchantents from far-off lands that don’t live up to the myth, the most inane things. Ma’ and Pa’ have tried to help him since he crafted up some stuff for them, but he don’t want none.”

“No one can argue he’s not a genius,” She scowled, face turned uncharacteristically sour. “But people round here don’t want occasional burst of glory followed by throughs of mediocrity. They want consistency and stability. Results delivered on time so their own businesses and farms can function without gamblin’ on someone else’s moods.”

“Sounds to me like you speak from experience.”

“Yeah.” Was all I got in return.

There was a brief moment in which I realized this man mirrored me in many aspects. A product in demand, ways of achieving it unbeknownst to others, resources at his command. Yet according to Ishila, he was content to squander it. It was at that time that I inwardly decided I would never be the same. Deliveries would be on time, rain or shine. I had established myself as a friendly, valuable source of goods in the area. Now I needed to prove the most meaningful test of all; reliability.

But first, these cows had to be driven home, and I tired of their disdain.

“You may want to cover your ears.” I suggested mildly, letting the whip fall and feeling the dry air sucked into my lungs. Scream of Fury shattered the air heartbeats after Ishila’s hand clamped to her head. The shockwave of sound and sheer anger flared reaction and movement in the herd. The shifting mass turned and began to trot away, mooing all the while as they funneled down the narrow path.

Sometimes, all one needed was a little fear.

“That works.” Ishila commented as she jogged alongside me to keep up with the herd’s pace.

Not the skill’s intended use, but I would take it. Stubborn as they were, the taur-cows were still beasts, and prone to guidance from their instincts. They slowed, of course. Base fear only lasted for so long. Yet I was eager to supply them with more roars, much to the dismay of whatever wildlife existed nearby. Birds flapped from trees, animals burst from the bush and scattered in random directions as my wake continued.

Such was the extent of my bellowing that I found myself with a sore throat once we had arrived back at the farm. The task of herding them into the pasture was made somewhat easier with Gol around. Artyom, while riding valiantly atop Gol, was simply too small for the cows to care about. While I would rather not see him randomly trampled by some beast dozens of times his size, the decision to help from up close was his.

The beasts were eventually guided into the pasture, despite some breakaway attempts towards the end. They lingered in their own groups, the two herds distrustful of each other. There was plenty of grass for them to share, I reckoned. For now. The growth was spurred on by my Gold is Power, and those more I accumulated, the more I would be able to keep my cows sustained and even perhaps, dare I hope, happy.

“We really should get that shed built someday.” I mused to Ishila as we leaned against the fenceposts for a quick break.

She agreed.

“Other things to focus on for now, though. Need to break up the land cleared yesterday and turn it into a proper field.”

While I wanted to go and run experiments on my plants, the more mundane tasks of my farm received attention first.

“Ma’s gonna be around later today.” Ishila muttered under her breath, looking around. “Needs to talk.”

“Dungeon?” I assumed.

“Yeah. There are a few..hiccups. Didn’t tell me what, but I can tell.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that firmly commited to memory, I headed off to carve myself a fourth field with newfound gusto, magical weapons and a solid steel plow. Much as I liked grass, even enjoyed it’s scent both as a human and minotaur, it had to go. As did all the bushes, brambles and general undergrowth that the behemoth’s tree-ripping rampage had missed.

It wasn’t hard work, per se. Just a boredom-inducing slog that took up overly much time. Progress was steady, but slow, simply because carrying around waste and destroyed plantlife took time. Anything heavy I could toss beyond the field’s boundaries, but the lighter chaff would simply flop and blow with the wind before dropping into the other fields.

Stones and boulders alike had to be heaved from the ground and carried away, although I did question just how necessary this was. Still, habit demanded I do so. There was a nice little rockpile being stocked up by the time I saw the Wyld Orc approach. Her weapons were not at hand this time, I saw as she drew near. From a distance, she could have been mistaken for Ishila, were it not for the shimmer in the air around here as her bound spirits swirled.

“Tehalis.” I greeted her with a neutral, somewhat respectful tone. While she was the mother of a dear friend, I did not know her well enough to be fully friendly.

“Garek.” She returned curtly. “I have sought you out for a reason. We must discuss some..inconveniences.”

Her tone and sufficient context of the situation implied they were far, far more than that.

A wordless gesture indicated the conversation might be better served inside the lodge, away from any prying ears. Enough experience with this world and it’s magic meant that even that might not be safe, but it was better than no precautions at all.

Tehalis gave no visible protest to Ishila’s presence as her daughter joined our path towards my home. Only a quiet grunt escaped her throat. The orc’s scent betrayed her impassive demeanor, tinged with impatience and frustration. Was it then a merit to her, that her expression hid those emotions well? Or a sign that others might take that no matter how restrained she appeared, orcish anger stewed beneath? Context and interpretation to whomever peered closely enough, Where a bee might draw nectar, a spider could suck venom from the same source.

Her mother stood while Ishila took an offered seat. Truth be told I expected neither of them to make themselves comfortable.

“There have arisen complications.” Tehalis spoke, crisp and curt.

“Do tell.” Ishila drawled.

“The dungeon is waking rapidly. And with it, the danger grows with each day.”

“We knew this already.” I confirmed the obvious.

“Not to this extent. What we see now is merely the first shard stirred. The base monsters that swarm from the fort’s entrance stem from that sphere of influence. Now that it has shaken off the chains of slumber, it seeks to extend it’s influence towards the other shards. It is a vast mess of ecosystems and share-cores that all remain connected to the final, deepest layer of the dungeon, or so I suspect.”

“And now, the foremost part has been tickled awake. I have stalked the dungeon’s halls unseen, and insofar, only it has been woken. Why or how the rest has slept so far remains a mystery, but we must act soon, or it will not slumber for long.”

“So we prepare to storm the dungeon’s gates, then.” I sighed. There had been some faint hope that if the situation could not be resolved without me, it would at least be delayed some time further in the future.”

“No.” Tehalis grunted. “A frontal assault would fail, regardless of how well our current numbers worked together. The swarm that awaits within will overrun almost any force. To attempt it would be the basest stupidity.”

“Then how?” Ishila demanded.

“The huntress searches for the Dreadknight’s tower and entrance concealed within.” Tehalis stated. “I will aid her search from within the dungeon myself.”

“You’ll be fine?” I asked, a healthy dose of skepitism in my mind. Much as I did not doubt she was a fearsome warrior, she had just finisged saying any frontal assault would fail.

“The swarm cannot strike at what it cannot sense, bull.” The Wyld Orc said. “With the huntress searching overland and with my efforts to locate this shaft from within, we may soon find it. We need to find it.”

“Very well.” I nodded. “I will stand ready for when the time comes.”

“Good. Increase your alertness around here as well. The fort is quickly becoming an untenable position to hold. They know this. Even now, we have found traces of some stealth variant of these monsters slipping over the walls at night and disappearing into the forests. Be on your guard at all times.”

“Stock up on every item of importance you can think of.” Tehalis looked around with those intense eyes. “Once we enter the dungeon, none of us leave until the task is completed. We succeed, or we are buried in there.”

“You would lay down your life for these people?” I asked with a genuine curiosity. Given what I knew of her and the elf, they did not strike me as the type.

“No. Not for these humans. Not ever. But to stop another full awakening and the shambling apocalypse that follows The Swarm That Walks, yes. There are some things worth dying for.”

“The task before us is monumental, then. Are you sure we are enough for the occasion?”

“The nearest help is weeks away. These “elite hunters” that the Verdant Dawn has promised your human friend remain unknown, and even with news of a possible dungeon, it still requires time to travel to the ass-end of nowhere. I would place little faith in outside help at this point, minotaur. We will have to be enough.”

And on that cheeery note, The orc departed as quickly as she had came, silence left in her wake.

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