One Moo'r Plow

I wanted little more than a peaceful night. A good sleep followed by a healthy breakfast. Simple, effective, vital.

Fate laughed and said no.

Rain bombarded the land, every drop a precision bomb that found the slightest crack in my roof and gleefully introduced itself to the floor below. I had no tubs, so with little choice I was forced to use my pots and fans to collect what amount they could.

All night long, I repeated a cycle. Sleep for a short time, awake, empty pans into the driving rain outside, and keep Gol from stealing my food. The beast refused to sleep outside, and after a time I could not bear its incessant whines and scratches upon my door. I had foolishly taken mercy and let it in.

I was only thankful that it was too lazy to explore, and had slumped down in the corner to doze off. It stirred whenever I did, and before long I was thwarting its attempts to snatch up morsels left from my supper.

I judged it to be just before dawn when I finally gave up on sleep and heaved myself out of bed for good.

Gods, what a shitty start to my day. Just another day and I could have gotten those hides stretched across the roof and not had to deal with all this. But such was life, and regrets would not change what had happened.

The aerial bombardment had given way to a light drizzle, I found as I yanked the door open. It pattered lightly against my fur as I shuffled across the yard, headed to the cellar for more meat. Garek’s thickened hide meant I felt only vague dampness as my hooves squished into the wet earth. With a grunt, I stooped and heaved the stone slab aside. Only to stop in horror as I looked within.

Even in the dim morning pre-light, I could see the water below. The cellar was flooded.

To say I took it well would be a lie. I could feel curses rising, only to be choked back down as I struggled to rein in my emotions. Okay, it was a setback. An inconvenience. A product of my own oversight, much as I was loathe to admit it.

No one’s fault but my own.

With little else to do, I waded down into the flooded chamber and took stock.

The water was up to my knees by the time I had descended all the way down. Much of the meat was soaked, hung as close to the ground as it was. Salted by the butcher and smoked by me, it was wet now. Obviously. The cellar was useless to me, now that nature had made clear its fatal flaw. Just a hole in the ground to symbolize my wasted effort. It spoke to another problem.

I had constructed my house my modern methods, but without modern tools. Sure, I had shaved logs into crude boards with the supernaturally sharp edge of my axe, but they were still crooked and imperfect. The entire structure was serviceable, but not truly what I needed.

I would have to rebuild, in the future. If memory served correctly, the sound way would be to build a proper cellar first, with stone -copious amounts of it- for the floor and walls, then cover it with a sturdy floor and then make a house atop. Le’rish’s lodge seemed to be the best idea for me currently. Large, rather spacious, and simple to make.

But that would be done at a later time when I was caught up on other tasks around the farm.

For now, I had a cellar full of soaked meat to carry out, and a hungry Gol to fend off. I chose not to, in the end. Just tossed it some of the wettest portions of meat and watched it disappear down the badger-bear-thing’s throat.

“I’ll find a use for you someday.” I vowed with a sigh and began to haul the dripping meat inside. And there was the problem with my house. It took most of the available space to hang the cured meat from the ceiling, even packed into the corner. I had built it for myself to live in, and little else. The goods I had bought from Hullbretch took up what space the hanging meat did not, and I was left with very little space for myself.

I would have to suffer the stench of meat inside my domicile for a time, then. With the final load hung, I found myself back outside. Aside from wholly reducing my cellar to useless, the rain seemed to have done wonders for the rest of my farm. Spurred on by Raise The Crops and whipped on by the effect of Gold Is Power, the wheat had begun to grow. Not actually grow -that would be insane- but I could see small breaks in the soil where the seeds had burst and begun to push up.

Was Gold Is Power that strong? What other skills had it amplified so far that I assumed what I got was instead their baseline? I hunched before my crops, in close examination of the soil. It was dark and rich. Very close to topsoil, my preferred growing soil back home.

It was then that I stopped and focused my full attention on something else.

The seeds I had planted on my arrival had not just sprouted, they had grown a near-ridiculous amount. Overnight, in the rain, spurred on by my Skills, they had all but burst to life. I hurried over to the patch and bent down. These were not crops, but something else.

A vine grew upright, and thick, fat pods budded near the tops. My eyes widened as the plant yawned. Yes, yawned. The bud cracked open to reveal sharp, stained teeth. It idly snapped at my finger as I shakily held my hand close, yet its attempts were feeble.

My eyes dragged themselves to an orange bloom that spread itself close to the ground. It had just begun to unfold, with purple sacs that gathered near a chimney-like growth in its center. Motion and proximity did little to stir it, but my touch caused it to puff in protest. Small green clouds erupted from its tip and I drew back. I was not about to inhale that.

There were more. One was simply an armored ball that slowly erupted from the ground, smaller sphere’s growing off the main orb. Another was a miniature tree that had already accumulated insect corpses on its sickly branches.

There was simply a mass of eyes that slowly blinked at my approach upon one.

Magical plants.

Ishila didn’t think so. The orc girl stood with her arms folded, her perpetual smile gone.

“Whoever sold ya these wanted to make trouble for ya.” She announced. “Sorry to have to tell ye.”

“These are monster plants.” She glowered. “Think weeds, but feral and dangerous. Touched by the system.”

“Yes, yes.” I nodded, still absolutely fascinated. “But what can they do?”

“I don’t rightly know.” She shrugged. “People don’t particularly try to find out, in most cases. Just kill them and be done with it.”

“I take they are not well-liked?” I queried

“Monster. Plants.” She returned, voice flat. “It’s in the name. Monsters. Separated and marked by the System. Not normal.”

So that was what differentiated normal animals from monsters in this world. I nodded sagely, still fascinated by the sprawl of life before me. The plants were scattered about randomly, intermixed with one another.

“Leave them here, and they’ll begin to devour the crop around them.” Ishila warned, expression mixed. “Shame, though. I’ve heard tell of people being able to cultivate them and somehow making use of them.”

‘Well,” I ventured, excitement bubbling in my stomach. “What prevents us from doing the same?”

She paused for a moment, a thoughtful look writ upon her face. The orc girl went through a range of emotions, she finally settled upon pensiveness.

“For most people, that would be the inherent danger involved. Yet I am dead certain you are no stranger to that.”

“Indeed.” I confirmed.

“Then, if you are willing to go forth with this risk, little stands in our way.” Ishila nodded. “I strange, sudden development, but I suspect the process will not be boring.”

“Beats hoeing weeds all spring.” I offered and received laughter in return.

And just like that, I was committed to raising and exploring the growth of these monstrous plants.

“We will need to physically separate them all.” ishila spoke, her usual easy smile returned back upon her features. “Simply being a monster in the eyes of the system does not mean they will co-mingle.”

“Stone barricades between the plants?” I offered, and she nodded.

“I would suggest they be walled off completely, but we’ll need to access them, and they still need sunlight, rain, and whatnot. Fertilizer would be ideal for even faster growth, but you seem to have Skills to handle that.”

I didn’t elaborate, just nodded along.

“I suggest we transplant them as soon as possible into their own areas. Like most monsters, they tend to grow at an alarming rate. Better do it now than when they are too large to safely handle.”

“Speaking of which,” She sighed. “I have to run home and get proper handling gear.”

She was gone as soon as I nodded, already halfway up the road. Gol had wandered over, but kept back, wary of the plants. Perhaps I should plant a few outside my door.

With Ishila gone, I began to haul rock and outline different sections of the crop. By the time the lass had returned, I had different enclosures for the plants, large and spacious. Some, we would plant together, simply because it was more convenient to manage a few large enclosures than many small ones.

Ishila was covered in armor when she returned, the clanks of her form heard before she came around the bend.

“Is that all actually necessary?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes.”

I didn’t ask further. I discovered why moments later when the first transplanted tooth-vine tried to nibble my arm. The fangs pierced my toughened hair, only to stop at my hide because they could go further. I chose to let her move the rest, given that one of us was coated in metal and the other wasn’t. No chances taken.

Instead, I gingerly moved the puffer plants with my longer reach. A cloth over my nose just to be sure, I held them at arm’s length and maneuvered around the released fragrance.

The first armored ball-plant violently exploded when I tried to move it. More startled by the bang then the impact of its armored spheres across my body, I yelped. Much to Ishila’s amusement.

Ishila carefully moved a pepper-like plant that oozed what I assumed was acid, and I grimaced at the slurry it has turned the ground around itself into. Those went far off to the edge of the crop in their own enclosure. Even so, the liquid left dark stains on her armor, something she found little amusement in.

Without a word, I handed her an entire purse of coins once the day was done. This job had just gotten significantly more dangerous, and I would need all the good help I could find. This was her advance payment for services rendered.

I was a farmer, yes. But raising monsters? That was an entirely new enterprise to me. And I would be a bald-face liar if I said I was not excited and nervous about it.

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