April 24, 5319 A.A.

Mark rose early as he did every day, kissed his still sleeping wife goodbye, and walked out of the temple entrance into the frigid mountain air. The moons still dominated the sky, alien stars cast their gaze upon this peculiar world. Gone was the milky way galaxy he had seen in pictures, but what he saw here was no less grand. This world had two moons. One seemed to be the same size as Luna, though it gleamed blue like a sapphire. The other was far larger, more a planet than a moon, and radiated a strange light. The moon was as black as the night's sky, none of its light reached the ground, but it shined in the night sky all the same. He hugged his fur coat close, trying to preserve his warmth as he wandered down the road to the gates. He was not the first to wake and make the journey. A half dozen others walked with him, two of which had the same dead shamble as himself, two that arrived the same day he had. The beds were stiff, and their back's creaked. Even if these bodies had never felt the soft comfort of a mattress, their minds remembered the soft, welcoming embrace of soft linen sheets and a well stuffed pillow. Still, it was a beautiful pre-dawn morning.

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Jothan and Adam led the charge, they raced along the rocky bottom of the gorge after the orc. A solid shot from Maric impaled its leg, and the brute was bleeding out as he charged onwards. Despite a slight limp, the beast did not slow. The gorge sloped steeply uphill, it served as a runoff from the nearby mountains. The hunters breathed haggard breaths at the rapid chase after such a brutal battle, yet still they pressed on. The orc could not be allowed to report back to its village. They weren't ready for a war.

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Mark strode down towards the log cabin they had started the day before, admiring his handiwork. The walls rose high, taller even than Liam could possibly need. Of course, Liam was already there, waiting for Mark to arrive. Mark had woken up an hour early one morning to try and beat Liam to work. Of course, all that came of that was losing an hours sleep and waiting out in the cold for almost an hour for Liam to open his door. Still, confirming that Liam wasn't an inhuman golem who never slept wasn't an entirely wasted effort. "Good morning Liam!" Mark called out, brimming with optimism at the change of pace.

"You're almost late. Let's start on the door." Liam gruffed. Gone was yesterday's momentary kindness. Liam was back to his usual self.

"Alright, how do we cut a door?"

"Already started." Liam pointed to a rectangular chalk outline on the front side of the cabin. He had hacked out the center. He handed Mark the crosscut saw and moved off to start trimming the roof frame.

"Ugh..." Mark groaned. Today was going to be a long day...

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Two more arrows pierced the orc's torso. The gray beast stumbled, and screamed a fierce, pained cry that echoed off the rocky walls of the gorge. Jothan and Adam gained on him, but the brute quickly rose and charged on. The slope of the gorge lessened as they ran, and they neared the end. The gorge widened out onto a mountain plateau, and just before the orc reached the plains, Adam finally caught the wounded brute and impaled him with his spear. The beast roared with crimson fury, and spun around, spear still embedded in his back. He grabbed Adam by his boiled leather chestplate and threw him at Jothan, who did his best to catch the flying protector. The orc used what strength he had left to stumble out onto the plateau. He gazed upon his tribe's camp and his jagged maw broke into a grin despite his pain, and roared "HUMAN! HUMAN HERE!"

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Mark finished sawing through the doorway, despite the thickness of the logs he finished fairly quickly. He had plenty of experience with a saw at this point, and his strength and endurance only continued to climb. "No windows?" He asked?

"No time, and no glass." Liam answered "These are the simplest, quickest houses we can make. I wouldn't have even bothered laying foundations if the old man hadn't insisted on it."

"Fair enough. What's next?"

"We need to frame the roof, and cut boards to use as slats. Then it's just shingles."

"Alright, what do you want me to do?"

"Start sawing the slats, you know what to do by now. Keep your cuts straight." Liam gestured over to a separate pile of logs, these were far thicker, and not suitable for the walls of the cabin.

Of course he got stuck with the saw work instead of the framing, but that's just the nature of being an apprentice, or so he was told. He walked over to the pile of massive logs, just like what Liam had been chopping the day he arrived. The loggers had been kind enough to cut them into six foot sections, and he got to work sawing the rounded log into a clean block.

The special rip saw they used to trim the blocks was a monster never seen in his old world, back when logs had been sawn by hand, this would have required a two man whipsaw. He sawed off each side of the log, then used all his might to tip it over so he could saw what had been the top and bottom. Once he finally had a clean six foot block, it was time to cut it down into sheets. It was immensely difficult to saw an even sheet by hand, but it was something he had been forced to practice this last month. He hoped he could get it right, these would be the biggest sheets he had ever cut by far.

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"No!" Jothan cried in dismay, as he reached the mouth of the gorge, his worst fears were realized. A band of orcs had made camp in the mountain plain. The orcs they had fought were just a small hunting party. "Run Adam! Tell Giles to take Douglass and the horses, tell him theres a war party in the vale!"

Adam didn't need any further urging, and raced back down the gorge. Giles took a moment to ready his bow, and fired a precise shot through the throat of the beast they had chased all the way here. The barbed arrow pierced through the back, near the spine and jutted out from the front. The tough bastard would live, but wouldn't be able to tell them anything and wouldn't be able to lead the orcs in their hunt. Then he too turn and fled. Adam had caught the other rangers, and they were sprinting back as well. All of them were exhausted, but now it was run or die. Their short lived head start was ended with roars and excited hollering from the camp behind them. The orcs dropped everything to charge after them. A few had been sleeping, and didn't bother grabbing their furs. Others forgot their axes, but all of them came. Dozens of bloodthirsty beasts charged down the gorge after them, their jowls quivering in anticipation of the feast.

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"You done with those sheets yet?" Liam asked as he climbed down from the top of the cabin.

"This log at least, not sure how many you're gonna need to cover the whole thing though." It took some time, but Mark had cut 25 decent sheets from the block. The rest were unusable so he tossed them aside. As he looked back at the cabin though, he saw that Liam had been far more productive. The roof framing was finished, large timbers ran the length of the unfinished house, with many small boards filling the gaps between them. It was a sturdy A shaped frame, solidly built to bear the weight of snow and stand tall against winter storms. "How did you get so good at raising houses? You could do one of these in a day if you weren't trying to show me how it's done."

"You see that wall, and all those houses inside it?"

"Yeah..." Mark mumbled, realizing how obvious the answer was.

"Who do you think built all of that when we first arrived. When everyone was sleeping in cheap tents, desperately trying to ward off the cold nights and praying that a pack of wolves wouldn't tear them all apart in their sleep, who do you think it was that had to put all of this up around them?"

"You..."

"You're goddamn right. But now, the old man wants foundations, and I'm stuck with you. So keep sawing those logs, hurry up and learn, and maybe I'll be able to make a proper craftsman out of you."

"Yes sir." Mark affirmed, the smallest spec of pride seeping into his voice. Liam was moody and abrasive, but Mark was slowly learning how to understand the man. Part of that understanding was that this was the closest he would ever get to a compliment."

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Jothan reached the bottom of the gorge just as Giles and the others finished strapping Douglass into the saddle of one of their horses. All of the supplies they had brought were cast aside, speed was all that mattered now. "Giles!" Jothan called out, and the trapper turned, his face grim. "You know how important this is, you know what you have to do. Ride hard back to the village. Warn them." Giles nodded, mounted his horse and galloped back towards town on his dappled gray mare, Douglass ponied behind him. Jothan only paused to glance up the ravine at the raging orcs thundering down upon them before he turned and ran after Giles along with the rest of his men.

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With Liam's help, all the sheets they would need had been cut. Liam was back on the roof, nailing down the sheets onto the sturdy frame. Mark thought he would be done cutting for awhile at least, but they needed shingles to finish off the construction. Due to the lack of variety in the forest, the shingles would be cut from pine just like the rest of the house and for lack of proper tools, they had to be sawed as well. Large timbers had been already cut, so all he had to do was saw off the end, one thin shingle at a time. It was easy compared to trying to cut a full sheet evenly, but they would need hundreds of shingles. He glared at Liam's back as he cut through yet another shingle. Gone was his moment of pride, a half-assed compliment could only last him so long before he was back to bitterly grumbling about the repetitive and menial tasks.

Liam of course knew the resentment he was building in his apprentice, but he truly didn't care one way or the other. As long as Mark did his work, he would do well. If he couldn't handle it and quit, there would be another to replace him. He hoped Mark would succeed, but only because of the time he had already wasted training him.

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The hunters had only made it halfway through the forest, and the new recruits were at their limit. Jothan and Maric had the benefit of their high endurance and agility but the others were barely level four. Aaron was wheezing badly, his broken ribs racked his body with terrible pain with every breath. But there was no time to stop, the orcs were right behind them, hooting and hollering as they chased their exhausted prey. "Please, please stop." Adam begged, "He won't last much longer."

"No, we keep running. Aaron, when you can't run any longer, do everything you can to slow them down." Jothan ordered.

"How can you say that! He'll die!"

"And if we all stop, we all die. Do you have any idea how many obols old man Dorian has left?"

"No..."

"Well neither do I! If he has four, we can all die happy. But what if he doesn't have four. What if he has one, and we stay here to help him. Who do you think the old man would pick? He would revive me and Maric, not you or Aaron. We are worth more to the village. It's that simple. The best way for all of us to make it is for as many of us to make it back alive. So Aaron, if you want to be revived, slow them down.

"Fuck that, we can't just leave him!" Adam cried out, but Aaron merely nodded, before turning to face the slavering horde.

His lungs were on the verge of collapse, and he had no strength left in them for speech. He drew his sword and his dagger, and within moments the orcs were upon him. The vanguard paused to circle him, confused at his challenge. Aaron charged the largest orc, a titanic brute nearly eight feet tall. As he strode forwards, the orc raised its impossibly huge warhammer. And as Aaron neared his foe, the hammer crashed down upon his head.

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They were halfway through nailing down the shingles on the roof. The cabin truly looked like it would be a home by the end of the day. Mark was carting handfuls of shingles up and down their makeshift ladder, helping Liam nail down each row before going back down for more. He was just getting ready to go back down the ladder, when a huge commotion exploded from inside the walls. "What is all that?" Mark wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but I don't like it." Liam answered. "Let's get down. See what it is." Both men got down the ladder just as the gates burst open.

"Everyone inside! Get everyone inside the walls!" Alexandra came rushing out of the gates, followed by all nine of the town guardsmen and many of the original villagers, all well armed.

"What's going on?" Liam bellowed.

"Orcs! Orcs are attacking Jothan's party! Aaron is dead! Vidar felt his loss, and Dorian received the respawn window! The hunters are returning but are being chased by a pack of orcs. They should be heading to the north gate. We need to get everyone inside the walls!"

Liam immediately took charge. "Marcus, grab a horse. The foresters are about a mile to the north, they found of grove of pines that would be perfect for our cabins. Follow the road, and look for fresh wagon tracks on the right. They haven't worked anywhere else along that road since the last rain."

"Me?" Mark blurted out in his surprise.

"Yes you. We don't have time for this, hurry and bring them back. They don't know what's coming."

Mark was terrified, but he knew they couldn't abandon the foresters. He rushed to the stable just outside the gates. It was more a barn than anything else, but Frank kept a horse saddled and ready to go at all times. He had heard the commotion and before Mark had run to the barn door Frank was holding the horse next to a wooden mounting block. "You know how to handle a horse?" The old stableman asked.

"Not in the slightest."

"Hell, just look where you want to go and if she isn't sure gently direct her with the reins. Tap her sides with your heels, smooch or just say faster and she'll pick up the pace. Annie here is a good girl, she'll take care of you. I'd go but someone has to round up the cows before the Orcs get here."

"I could do that, and you could go to the foresters."

"Son, you can't even ride a horse and you want to drive a bull through those gates and all those people? You'll be fine, just hold on."

"Alright..." Mark conceded and climbed atop his horse.

"You all set?"

"I think so..."

"What are you waiting for? Get the hell out of here!"

In his urgency, Mark kicked the horse hard just as he had seen in an old movie, and Annie responded. The horse bolted forwards, from a standstill to a gallop in a heartbeat. "Hold on tight!" Frank cried out, as Mark was nearly thrown from the horse with every step. He grabbed onto the horse's neck and held on for dear life.