1.25

The sprite gazed at the ‘town’, which was little more than a clearing with some wooden beams at the center, the beginnings of a well. Turning to her earthen companion, she lamented. “Why did I believe anything you said to me?”

#####

Rocky and his golems braved the pine forests once more, stepping away from the ruins of what had once been the home of the green men, creatures that the pixie had called goblins.

They were interesting creatures to Rocky. To him, they had an innate understanding of the superiority of the color green, in all things. This particular tribe had painted their insignia in green, the banners above their camp sporting a very thematically appropriate green skull.

Whether they had made the banners themselves, said the pixie, or whether the system had spawned them alongside the monsters at the very start was anyone’s guess. After all, the pixie stated, she had never been in a tutorial before.

That being said, it was no small wonder that the group was not lost in the woods at this point, having been walking for several minutes already.

Perhaps their only saving grace was the lack of grace with which Rocky had pursued the goblins. The speed walking golems had left noticeable imprints on the ground as they strode forward, as fast as golemly possible, bursting through foliage and trampling plants beneath their feet.

They ran once more now, moving at their top speed. To any onlooker, it seemed as if the golems were moving at the pace of a brisk walk. But to any unfortunate enough to try to race them, or worse, run from them, they would find themselves quickly overtaken. For the large golems, their brisk walk rivalled most human’s running speed.

It had been no small wonder, then, that the goblins had eluded Rocky’s pursuit for so long. Though, he supposed, the big red dogs had helped. If Rocky found one, he resolved himself to tame it. Riding atop one of his golems, he said as much to the pixie.

Riding beside him, the pixie gave a short, exasperated sigh. “That… is an absolutely horrible idea. Those carn wolves are feral, you know. The system is the one that tames them for certain goblin tribes in the Tutorial.”

Rocky only shrugged, he would try anyway. He didn’t know why, but there lingered an urge to tame one of those big red dogs, and to name it Clifford once he did.

#####

The trip through the forest was uneventful, all in all. Most creatures could not contend with the hulking monstrosities that were Rocky’s cold iron golems. And even less wanted to, at any rate.

They were in the final stretch at last. The sun had been setting as they battled the Goblin Chieftain. Now, it rose to signal a new dawn, flooding the forest floor with light wherever gaps in the foliage could be found.

The clearing was in sight now, and Rocky felt the sprite’s enthusiasm evaporate with each passing second. ““Why did I believe anything you said to me?” Excitement had turned to shock, then disbelief.

“Didn’t you say you had a stone settlement here already? What is,” she gestured around at the nearly empty clearing, “all this?”

“It’s my town.” Rocky said simply. Was there something wrong with his clearing-town?

“But where are the buildings? The walls? Hold on, do you even know what a town IS??” The pixie’s cheeks bloomed an indignant red as she all but screamed out the last word.

In Rocky’s defense, this was the first time he had ever heard of there being requirements to being called a town. “I didn’t know you needed buildings and walls to call something a town. People live here, so it’s a town, right?”

The way it had been explained to him by Amber, a town was a place where people could live. By that logic, it made perfect sense to call this a town.

“AGHH.” The pixie looked to be in physical pain. “Are you even aware of what you’re doing? It feels like I’m talking to a wall here!” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Wait. Okay, I walked into that one, but yes. A town usually has buildings and a wall. Otherwise, it’s not a town, it’s just a living space.”

“But isn’t a town a living space?”

Alina balled her tiny hands into fists. “Yes, but-no, yes? Yes! But it’s so much MORE than that!” The comment seemed to set something alight in her. “A town is a heart. A home! If any sleeping space could be called a town, then what’s MY purpose? A town is the literal center of a community! It’s where everything and everyone comes together and…” She trailed off, the fervor with which she had begun the statement slowly fading.

“You… you don’t know about any of this, do you?”

The conversation was cut short as more people entered into view from the tree line. Rocky’s eye became a shade brighter, just in time!

“Hey Rocky-” Harold stopped short, staring off at something directly next to Rocky. He nudged Amber. “Is that… is that what I think it is?”

She nodded, mutely. “So you’re also seeing the fairy then?”

Rocky happily answered. “This is Alina! She’s a System Sprite.” It was so exciting to have a helper for his town!

Amber blinked. “And how did you come across this, ah, System Sprite?”

Rocky mimicked taking a deep breath. Well, he didn’t really need to breathe, but he had seen Amber do it before launching into a really long explanation. This was his chance to be like Amber!

“We were building the well, but then we noticed that you need stone to do that.” He gestured at the wooden frame meant to serve as the well’s covering. “So I took my golems, and we went searching for rocks, because I can’t make big enough ones for this.”

His voice started to speed up as excitement mounted. “Then when we were in the forest, we ran into some small green men with big red dogs, who started running away when I caught up to them and started talking. So we followed them to their camp, and killed their Chief.”

“Then the System decided I was an error, which made me really sad.” His light dimmed, then brightened again. “But then it sent Alina to help with our town!”

Rocky sat back onto his golem, content to listen now that he had said his piece. Amber and Harold just stared at him. Surely they would be proud of his excellent decision making?

“So,” Amber began. “Let me get this straight. You went out to find rocks, met some small green men-”

“Goblins.” Alina interjected.

“Goblins, then. As I was saying, you met some goblins, chased them because they ran away, and then broke into their camp?”

Rocky nodded. Truly an apt summary of what he had just said. “Yup! We found a lot more green men, bigger ones this time, so we fought them and killed the chief. Most of them ran away I think-”

Amber held her hands up by her torso, both palms facing Rocky. The rock tilted his head. Was this some sort of celebration ritual? He mirrored the move.

“Hold on,” Amber took the initiative. “So you’re telling me you broke into a goblin camp, killed a bunch of goblins, and that somehow worked because it made all the goblins run away, and it gave you this pet Sprite?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m no one’s pet! I am an independent, self-serving member of the Sprite System Helper Corps!” The small, winged woman exclaimed. “And if anyone was going to own me, it would be the System, not this idiot of a rock who doesn’t understand what a TOWN is.”

Harold waved his hand. “Wait, Rocky wiped out an entire camp by himself, so this is great news!” He turned to Rocky. “Amber, the spiderling, and I found a Kobold camp really close to here. We can just go wipe it out, no?”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh, speaking of. Can we please name the spiderling? It’s getting annoying just calling him the spiderling, you know? How about… Spikey?”

Rocky conveyed the question to the Fang spiderling, and the monster in question hissed his response back. “I will only accept a name from the Brood Mother. And tell the human that the name he suggested is awful.”

“He says he’ll only take names from me. And that Harold’s name was awful.”

Amber let out a small laugh, tapping a finger against her chin. “How about Simo? Like after the famous sniper in the Finno-Russia war?” Seeing no response, she kept going. “You know, one of the deadliest soldiers ever. He was so terrifying that the Russians even called in artillery just to kill him!”

Silence. “No? Nothing?”

Harold coughed awkwardly. “Honey, I can honestly say that none of us have any idea what you’re talking about, but Simo sounds cool. What do you think, Rocky?”

“Yup, that’s fine! As your Brood Mother, I proclaim that your name is now Simo!” Happy with that, Rocky stopped paying attention to the conversation altogether, instead checking his notifications in preparation for their next encounter.

#####

Robb’s plan was very simple. Sneak out, and become so powerful as to no longer need the support of the group.

He had been against bringing Moe to their camp for a reason. The beautiful man rubbed him the wrong way, sure, but his reasons had been mostly pragmatic. The aftermath of bringing such a large group to their hideout was a foregone conclusion, after all, and Robb was forced to watch it play out over the course of several days anyway, just as he predicted.

The first and most pressing issue was that of food. The wildlife in the area had once been an abundant source of nutrition for their small group of three. Having to support thirty three people however? The rabbits, squirrels, and birds saw no reason to stay in these deadly killing grounds, and left for greener pastures, forcing what hunters Robb could muster to roam further and further afield to provide for their large camp.

Then there was the water. The small stream running nearby was good enough, even for a large group to drink from. But theirs was a group of mostly office workers, who lacked almost any experience of the outdoors. Many among them wanted to bathe, clean, and dump their excess waste into the small stream.

To compound the issue of food and water was the apparent unwillingness of most of these people to do their fair share, something which Robb found infinitely more frustrating than their inherent lack of experience.

Many languished about in the small wood and leaf structures they had built for shelter, waiting for government search parties as Jess had suggested. Of course, knowing that they were in a scenario similar to LitRPGs online, Robb was almost certain that said help would never arrive.

So he defaulted to a quote by one of his favorite Youtubers, and an idea wholly in line with his class as a [Trickster]. He would be using lies and deceit.

Robb had always portrayed a happy, warm prankster’s persona when near his friends. What lied underneath the carefully crafted ruse was a cold, calculated mind. Pragmatic, he called himself.

Though tricking most individuals in their camp was much easier than he had anticipated. They grasped onto hope like a drowning man to air. Like a parched man in the desert would to water. Such was the mindset of the desperate, thrown into a world of fantasy.

So when he claimed to be going out to scout for ways out of this ‘forsaken forest’, he was met with a genuinely happy response. “We’ll get out of this, together.” He assured them with a smile on his face. The smiled back, with the exception of a select few, who had perhaps caught on to what he was trying to do. Among them, Donny and Jess, his former teammates.

“Hey man!” Donny caught Robb’s arm as he was turning to leave. “Be careful out there, okay? Moe says that if you’re really brave for doing what you’re doing. If you ever need another pair of hands to help you, let me know. I’ll be your second, okay?”

The down to earth nature of his speech surprised Robb, who was expecting some sort of ‘I’m coming with you’ spiel from the macho assistant coach. Giving the man a hug, Robb waved to him to signal his departure. Donny waved back, but Jess just stood there, staring at him, seemingly unsure of whether to call out.

Robb sighed his relief internally. Donny, he could easily read, and his farewell had been fairly heartfelt, too, save for the part about Moe. Jess on the other hand? He just couldn’t tell if she was in Moe’s pocket already, or if she was just secretive. Either way, better to avoid speaking to her than to give anything away in the ensuing conversation.

‘First, I need to find a good hunting ground.’ Robb hefted his sturdy, sharpened stick. It was long, shaped to be a javelin. It would be his primary ranged weapon. For his primary melee weapons however, he had commandeered a jacket from one of the survivors at camp, a black leather biking jacket.

His previous experiences had taught him that hiding his sharpened sticks inside the sleeves of his shirt would result in numerous cuts and abrasions. Instead, he kept the sticks well away from his skin, underneath the leather jacket, but above his shirt.

Exiting the safe zone marker he and Donny had drawn prior, Robb carefully made his way through the foliage, avoiding the open area where the Orangutan Screamers had been before.

He mentally ran through the pros and cons of fighting those beasts again. The one screamer he had killed had levelled him five times, giving him the skills [Disguise] and [Lethal Blow] at levels two and three. The former was a sort of blending skill, where the user could obscure themselves from the vision of individuals who weren’t explicitly looking out for something.

The latter was a one hit kill skill. Its System description stated that the wielder could empower a single blow, so long as the victim did not suspect that the blow was coming. Why the skills stopped appearing after the third level, he couldn’t say.

With the skills he had though, he could probably kill a screamer if he got close. With luck, it would die before alerting any of its fellows.

That tipped the scales, then. He was reasonably certain he could one-shot an Orangutan Screamer if it was alone, provided the blow was a stab wound to the head. A known threat versus trying to find easier prey in unknown lands. The course was clear.

It was hunting season.