356 256 – Bullied By Boars

“What we need,” the Black Hound said, “is some good old creative thinking. It’s the sort of thing we pirates do well.” And he winked at me.

Yeah, I didn’t trust him, or his thinking.

It was a bear finding the points for it, but it unlocked Creativity Pool that I could pay for separately.

“I notice what you’re doing.” I told the Hound. “You think if you move slowly instead of quickly I won’t notice you pulling your dagger.”

He pulled forth a tin flask, and took a swig from it. Forget the dainty flasks bards tell you about, this one could easily hold half a gallon. “My, my, you’re neither attentive nor trusting. Betrayed at a young age, were we?”

“A young age.” I agreed. Less than three months.

I swiveled my head around. “Those trees, I think.” I said.

“To cut down for firewood? Those have some pretty thick trunks.”

“To build raised platforms upon.” I said. “If those boars are as powerful as they seem, we’ll want those thick trunks supporting us.”

.....

“That’s... we don’t have rope.” he said.

“Don’t tempt Rhishi.” Kismet said. “He finds a way to do things. What about those trees over there? For wood.”

“Hrm.” I said. “Actually, a large problem is that there is only one of me. I’m needed both hunting for food and building the new shelters.”

The woman pressed a food into the dirt. “A pity we can’t dig down. Elevated houses will be vulnerable to winter storms. I can hunt.”

“Not unless your divine power can hide you from the boars.” the Hound said.

“Boars are natural gluttons. They’ll have retreated to their lair to digest. If we had enough spears, we could hunt them down.while they sleep.” she said.

“Kismet, your senses are as keen as mine. We need you hunting, as well.”

“Well, then Boris over there comes with us to carry things.” she said.

“My name is Yaroslovl.” he said. “Or Yaros, and I am no man’s slave, nor woman.”

“Fine. Call me Corvina.” the woman said. “Keep up; you don’t want to be alone when those boars wake up and start looking for food.”

“Well, I think I should guard the wounded.” the Hound said.

“They’re going to have to fend for themselves.” I said. “At least for a bit. Grab a saw, we’re on lumber detail..”

“Let’s at least move them inside. Some manner of protection.”

“I’ve given some thought to that, as well.”

Keeping the Hound in my peripheral vision, I began whipping together some Healing mana.

“That looks a lot like doing nothing.” he said.

“Well, we don’t have healing potions yet.” I said. “I’ll have to do this the hard way.”

He produced a vial of greenish liquid, with bits of herbs still floating in it, and poured it down the throat of one of his men. The one I hadn’t bitten, I noticed.

Not as a matter of pride, you understand. I was trying to figure out how the Hound thought in order to stay ahead of him. He only needed to outsmart me once, and bad things would happen.

His man coughed, and began thrashing.

“What the hell? The witch assured me this was a working potion. I’ll anally rape her until she dies!”

It had to be a distraction; everyone knows that healing potions require nutrition to work. Besides, even though he wasn’t going to be up and about, even the cheapest of healing potions rarely have lethal side effects.

I applied the miko light to Madonna. Her injured body siphoned the energy in. Some color returned to her cheeks, but her hands remained pale and cold, her pulse thin and rapid.

A cursing pirate captain had begun moving his men inside the hut.

It wasn’t a large hut, and Madonna ended up on the porch. Not that I minded; I liked having her where I could see her.

The Hound worked at a pace that preserved his fatigue meter.

“Well, tell me about yourself.” he said.

I shrugged. “I’m a Titanspawn.” I said. “What else is there to know?”

“What drives you to be here, in our islands, anyway?”

Nicely done, I thought. He could see which question I would answer, as well as how.

“Mostly duty and promises.” I said. “There’s a small quest that needs done, before I can board a ship and go home.”

“Tell me.” he said.

“Well, it starts with getting Admiral Danton’s Boots of Blackness.”

“His magic boots? You think any pirate is going to give up boots that allow them to ambush anyone, anywhere, generally speaking at any time?” He shook his head. “What are you offering in exchange?”

“More money than he can make by piracy.”

He began sawing another limb off a trunk. “Alone, mate. You meant more money than he can make by piracy alone.”

“Why would he remain at piracy, when honest trade would be more profitable?”

“Ah, and that’s why you’ll never make a good pirate, lad. We’re a greedy lot, we are, but it isn’t all about the shiny and the trinkets. We’re predators, you see. Culling the weakest from the ocean, keeping the sailors strong enough to survive.”

“I don’t think even you believe that.” I said.

“Doesn’t matter what I believe or not. What matters is what I can make you believe. For example, I think you’re winded.”

I nodded. “You’ll get to make your move, once more. I think we both understand that one of us will be dead, afterward.”

For my part, I had no doubt that I could beat him to the prone Madonna. Still, he looked that way.

“I think I’ll pick a time when my men aren’t also at risk.” he said. “You want to swap out tools? You’ve got two trees down, and this one isn’t fully pruned yet.”

“Fair enough.” I said.

The saw was in bad shape. Not just the Hound’s fault; it hadn’t been maintained properly in a long time. I’d have to find a flat enough rock, have at it with hammer and some loving Metal mana.

But for the short time, we lumbered, we talked.

Gradually, branches were pruned, and then I pared them down into sizes.

“Starting to look like workable wood, with the tips for the fire.” he said.

“It’s green wood.” I said, flexing a branch to demonstrate. “It will burn poorly until we dry it out. Don’t worry; if it comes down to it, I’ve learned goblin cold cooking methods.”

“Cold cooking? How does that work?”

historical

“About how you’d think.” I admitted. “You end up with tasteless, flat food unless you’ve a kitchen yeast to fluff it a bit. But at the dusk that starts a new day, nutrition is nutrition.”

“My System swaps out days at midnight. Most nights, I’m comfortably asleep for that.”

“I would think that your profession and captaincy would keep you up late.”

“I did say most nights.” he said. “Trick to it is to build a good crew. People you can trust. Maybe not with your sister, but trust them to think like a crew.”

He set the axe aside, pulled a cavalry saber from his inventory. It was a heavier blade than most people would have preferred, but the curved edge made it good at striking and cutting. He made no move to draw it from its sheathe.

“A lesser man would threaten you about now, mention that your feline lass is out with a witch and one of the stronger members of his crew.” he said. “You’re going to be handing over leadership to me; we both know it.”

I laughed long and hard. His expression turned... oh, gods, the rage! I couldn’t stop. “You know that won’t go the way a lesser man would think, right?”

“Oh, because of your deadly venom? I think you’re tapped out, at least for the day.”

“Absolutely.” I said. “The venom I’ve got left might sting quite a bit, but it isn’t enough for an actual dose.”

“And I’ve seen you fight. You’re a shield, not any good in a straight up fight. One of your lasses, the spear, she’s off in the woods. Didn’t even tell you where she was going.”

“She did.” I said. “She’s taken the chisel and hammer and gone looking for stones we can carve into spearheads.”

“She’s nowhere that she can help you. I have this enchanted sword here, and this pistol.”

I slid my reticule over both.

“It wasn’t a bad bluff.” I said. “I almost called up Mystic Vision.”

He put his weapons away. “What made you think it was a bluff?”

“The pistol.” I said. “You forget the time we spent on Prison Island. The mysteries of the black powder are known to me. It’s like wood; difficult to bring to fire when wet. What you have in that hand is an expensive lump of steel.”

He put the weapons away. “For someone so young and naive, you’ve otherwise got a pretty sharp mind, lad.”

“Thanks, but we’ve a lot of work before it gets dark.”

I began whittling.

“I don’t think wooden stakes are going to cut it, lad.”

“Not stakes.” I said. “Pegs. Unless we have nails that I missed?”

“Not that I saw.” he said.

.....

We had most of our first frame together by the time the hunting party returned.