Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 27 - Stalking the sands - Part One

 

Chief Uday was kind enough to allow us to use one of the empty houses near the outer wall while we stayed in Stone Well. Dhizi was far too large to fit through the door, so she would sleep outside in the space between our building and the one next to it. Similarly, we parked the wagon and Bristle Boars outside the front and by the door.

 

Settling in for the night, I had just as much luck sleeping as I had for the past few days. After waking up for the third time, I decided to just stay awake.

 

Wandering outside, I stared up at the stars and tried to find any constellations I might recognise. Astronomy had never really been my thing, so I spent more than an hour more or less doing nothing.

 

Knowing that the surrounding buildings were unoccupied, I entered the building on the opposite side of the main street and walked up the stairs to the second floor. Although a little dubious of the structural integrity of the building, I was surprised to find that the centre of the floor had no problems bearing my weight. Emboldened, I used the stairs on the second floor’s exterior landing to walk up onto the roof.

 

The vantage point of the rooftop gave me a view of almost the entire village, including the large number of guards patrolling the top of the wall. Knowing that Variants could enter Wards at will, it still seemed pretty brutal for so many of the village's warriors to brave the cold every night just to protect themselves from Slavers.

 

“Stalker!” I barely heard the cry of alarm and wasn’t sure if I had heard it correctly. It had come from almost the opposite side of the village. However, as I turned my attention in the right direction and continued to watch, I saw five warriors group up on the wall with long knives and short spears at the ready.

 

In the space of a single second, one of the warriors was down, the huge form of a spider now standing atop their place on the wall. With horrified fascination, I watched as the distant figures darted in and out of the spider’s reach again and again. Even the warrior that had been knocked down did not remain idle, rolling free from beneath the spider only to then leap back into the fray.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the spider curled up into a ball and one of the warriors pushed it off the wall and into the village.

 

“Stalker!” The call came again, only this time it was from two places at once.

 

“Why isn’t their Ward working?” I muttered and looked around the otherwise quiet village. Letting wild predators of this size inside the perimeter, even for food, seemed borderline suicidal. Seeing a large dark shape slip over a section of the wall, I felt my blood run cold. There had been no call for this intruder...

 

Jumping off the roof, I grunted and ignored the pain in my knees, “Dhizi! Follow me!” I commanded and ran for all I was worth.

 

Even though Dhizi’s metabolism had been severely affected by the cold, I could hear her scrambling after me as I sprinted down the main street.

 

Already committed, I ignored the fact that my weapons were back in the borrowed house. There was a reason I had brought Dhizi for backup.

 

Running down a side street, I briefly caught sight of the spider scuttling down a nearby alleyway. Matching its direction while sticking to the street, I was only partially surprised when it leapt out into the road towards me. I had purposefully made no attempts to quiet my movements, I wanted it to focus on me.

 

All the same, It knocked me off my feet and I felt it rip through my robe as I tumbled backwards.

 

*Snap! Crunch*

 

The spider recoiled as Dhizi tore half of a leg from its body.

 

Slowly pacing forwards, Dhizi dropped the twitching leg and tasted the air with her long tongue.

 

The Sand Stalker continued backing away, foul ichor dribbling from its maimed leg. It clacked its thick mandibles in irritation and seemed to stare at me hatefully as I regained my footing.

 

“STALKER INSIDE!” The fierce cry came from the other side of the spider and caught all three of us by surprise. Or so I thought.

 

*Snap! Crunch*

 

The instant the spider’s attention seemed divided, Dhizi leapt forward and bodily tackled it, ripping one of its legs off in the process.

 

Three village warriors came running down the street from the direction of the earlier warning, but they quickly came up short and could only watch in surprise as Dhizi proceeded to dismantle the spider, piece by piece. At first, I was worried that the spider might seriously harm Dhizi by injecting her full of venom, but that concern seemed unfounded since the Sand Stalker failed to even penetrate her scaly hide.

 

[Dhizi has slain {Sand Stalker: 3 } +1200 Exp]

 

Apparently not put off by the taste in the least, Dhizi began gorging herself on the dead spider’s ruined limbs.

 

Turning my attention to the warriors, I felt a hot surge of anger. “Bring me to your Chief!” I demanded, making it clear this was not a request.

 

One of the warriors was ‘volunteered’ by his companions and led me back to the Chief’s home.

 

Dhizi followed us, dragging along her prize through the open street.

 

While initially furious with the Chief, once I gave him the opportunity to explain himself, he admitted that their Shaman had been kidnapped during an attempted peace negotiation after the first year of the drought. The Shaman’s apprentice had been killed during the kidnapping, leaving the village without a Ward.

 

Negotiations with the nomad tribes to ‘borrow’ one of their Shamans had revealed that they were in similarly dire straits, having lost their Shamans as well.

 

While no one knew for sure, it was assumed that Gargant, Chief of the Iron Hills tribe was responsible. After all, it was his tribe of Mountain Orc’s that was actively predating on the nomads and Stone Well village.

 

Chief Uday seemed far more tired than he had been when we met earlier, and not just because of the late hour.

 

“Since the drought started...How many have you lost to the Slavers and Stalkers?” I asked firmly, already having a rough idea just from observing the village during the day but wanting confirmation.

 

Uday Clenched his fists and glared at his feet, “Half...Half of village dead or slaves...” He croaked.

 

“The wanton predation of your people ends today!” I snarled and left the Chief’s home.

 

Leading Dhizi back to our living quarters, I wasn’t surprised to find that Kestrel, Clarice and Nadine were up and about.

 

I did my best to calm down and explain Stone Well and the nomads' situation. Furthermore, I went on to explain what exactly we were going to do about it. “Kestrel, Overseer Klive would have assigned a liaison to Gric to relay messages, right?”

 

Kestrel nodded and hurriedly rushed up the stairs to retrieve her own communicator.

 

“This village needs a proper Ward and better defences before we can risk turning it into a real Settlement. So we need one of Ushu’s apprentices in addition to the Druid I was already intending to have Ril fetch from Sanctuary. Now I am thinking we will need a whole bunch of weapons and food supplies as well. These Orc’s are getting way too close to these damned spiders as it is and their weapons just don’t seem good enough.” I explained grimly.

 

“We will need medical supplies too! And at least a couple of the more senior Surgeons,” Nadine added, “We also need to set aside a defensible yet accessible area for treatment of the wounded. I think the Chief’s house would be about big enough,” she suggested optimistically.

 

“You should have the tamers provide a bunch of Beast Taming collars too,” Clarice suggested with a grin, “Those spiders are pretty big, and I bet they would make brutal mounts for exotic cavalry.”

 

“Good lookouts too,” Kestrel added a little breathlessly as she descended the stairs with a message device in hand.

 

Clarice nodded in agreement, “Won’t need nearly as many warriors if they have tamed Beasts filling out their ranks.”

 

“Agreed,” I nodded and then repeated our list to Kestrel, just in case she missed anything while retrieving her communication device.

 

“I’ll try to get in contact, but I might not get a response till sun up unless they have someone taking off hours,” Kestrel warned as she flipped the switch on her communicator, signalling she wanted to establish contact. She would turn it off and then reactivate it every so often, presumably to draw attention to the flashing light on the other end.

 

Settling back down again, I tried to sleep but couldn’t quite manage it. My blood was up now and I was anxious to get things started.

 

As Kestrel expected, she didn’t get a connection until just before sunrise. It did not change much, since everyone we would be recruiting would still have been asleep anyway. With Gric taking charge of things on his end, we set midday for when Ril would open the portal. There was no telling how long RIl would be able to maintain the connection with her current pool of mana, so the volunteers were warned to pass through the portal as soon as it opened and the sled containing additional supplies would be pushed through after them.

 

Since all monsters could sense mana on one level or another, I warned Chief Uday and strongly recommended that he post most of his warriors on the walls and not go out hunting.

 

Chief Uday put up some resistance, but changed his mind once I explained that I was bringing a Shaman to train a replacement for their tribe and the materials along with them in order to do so. I made no mention of the Druid, since I still didn’t know what had caused the drought to begin with and the Druid might not be able to fix the problem on their own.

 

As the designated hour approached, Kestrel stood on standby atop the roof of the Chief’s home, holding the communication device at the ready in order to give our volunteers on the other side the best warning, and our Ward at her feet just in case.

 

Standing in the open street near the well, this was the villagers first look at Toofy and Ril. It was difficult to tell exactly, since most had their faces concealed behind veils of silk, but bewilderment seemed to be the most prominent reaction.

 

Dressed in a thoroughly soaked towel wrapped about her body like a robe, Ril raised her hands and extended her fingers, signalling she was ready to attempt opening the portal. A sudden density to the atmosphere made it difficult to breathe as a near-transparent crack formed in the air in front of RIl. Reaching her hands into the crack, Ril seemed to struggle to find a handhold for a few moments before drawing the tear wider.

 

A shimmering image of Sanctuary began to form on the other side, the sight of the prolific vegetation driving some of the nearby villagers to their knees in shock.

 

The instant the public fountain came into focus, a squat toadlike Daemon and a small crowd of Serpent-Kin rushed through the portal with thick hide ropes drawn taut over their shoulders.

 

“GRAB THE ROPES! PULL THROUGH THE SUPPLIES!” I roared as I rushed forward to lend a hand doing exactly that. Kestrel had confirmed that there would be five large sleds packed full of supplies, including food and water. The test would be how many we could secure before the portal collapsed.

 

Taking a firm hold of the guide ropes, I leveraged my weight and heaved the unseen sled train into motion, allowing the Daemon and Serpent-Kin to get a head start from the momentum. As tempted as I was to watch the portal, I tightened my grip instead and continued dragging the sled train.

 

“All through!” Nadine called out, “All thr-”

 

*Pop*

 

Nadine's voice disappeared suddenly as the sudden atmospheric change caused my ears to pop, temporarily deafening me.

 

Judging by the reactions of Sanctuary's recently arrived volunteers, I wasn’t the only one, which was some comfort at least.

 

After a couple of minutes, my hearing had just about finished returning to normal and I quickly found out that my earlier concerns regarding the Sand Stalkers seemed to be correct. Three of the giant spiders had already attempted scaling the walls and more could be seen approaching the village in the distance.

 

It was a good thing that Clarice and Dhizi were already out there. Even though they hadn’t directly contributed to any kills yet, the spiders seemed much more interested in them as moving targets rather than Stone Well. This was important because it gave Hessin, our volunteer Shaman, more time to build and grow her Ward. It also allowed the other volunteers to begin unloading and distributing supplies.

 

By no means an expert, or arguably even all that proficient, with polearms. I still committed to setting an example for the village’s warriors, taking up one of the ten-foot halberds from the weapon supply sled and hurriedly heading for the closest access point to the wall.

 

Noncombatants, mostly children, had already been shepherded into the central most buildings and put under heavy guard. The warriors that remained had been divided between defending the wall and waiting to rearm from the recently arrived supplies of weapons.

 

The moment I reached the top of the wall I quickly realised that the defenders were going to need more time. There were seven Sand stalkers approaching this flank already and reinforcements wouldn’t arrive for another minute at least.

 

Jumping down off the wall, I ignored the brief flash of pain from my knees and lurched forwards into a stiff charge. With the goal of buying time, I altered course for the space between the approaching spiders, forcing the closest spiders to change direction and follow me instead.

 

Ignoring the section of my brain that was all but screaming for me to run away and not towards the giant arachnids, I tightened my grip and braced my shoulders to meet the first charge.

 

As the Sand Stalker in front of me drew closer, I realised my mistake and changed grip as I continued charging towards it.

 

The mistake was one I had made repeatedly in training drills and was the consequence of my own brute strength and limited creativity when my adrenaline was up. When faced with an enemy, I would just try to stab it as hard as I could, and that was about it. Obviously, that posed a problem when training against a thinking opponent, because they knew my attacks in advance. In the case of fighting these spiders though? Stabbing the halberd with this amount of accumulated force would bury it in the spider and leave me without a ready weapon for the two others that were seconds out of striking range themselves.

 

Coming to an abrupt halt just short of my originally intended bracing point, I angled the axe-head of the halberd to my right and pivoted hard in the same direction, almost tripping over my own feet as I attempted the last second movements.

 

*Crack*

 

A shiver ran down the pole of the halberd and reverberated through my hands as the blade of the protruding spike struck and shattered the carapace of one of the spider’s forelegs.

 

Gritting my teeth and pivoting hard with my hips, I continued swinging the halberd in a clockwise arc.

 

*Crack, Shink, Crack, Crack Crunch*

 

The bladed spike and axe-head cut and battered the Sand Striker that had originally been approaching from my right, almost entirely removing one of it’s raised forelimbs. However, my momentum came to an abrupt halt as the axe scythed off the third Sand Stalker’s right forelimb and became embedded in its side, almost shearing off another leg at the base.

 

Rather than attacking immediately, As I had expected them to do, the spiders hissed and jerkily attempted to disengage.

 

Unwilling to surrender the halberd so easily, I tried to hold my ground and yank it free, but the giant spider was apparently even more determined and I was already off-balance, so I had to let go to avoid falling over.

 

Hastily drawing my morningstar from my belt, I waited for the spiders to attack, but they continued their limping retreat, stiffly skittering backwards, seemingly refusing to take their eyes off of me.

 

Unfortunately for the spiders, there seemed to be no loyalty or kinship amongst their kind. The second wave of approaching Sand Stalkers leapt onto their wounded with cold disregard for what otherwise could have been their significant numerical advantage.

 

More than happy to disengage, I warily backed away towards the wall.

 

[Dhizi has slain {Sand Stalker: 2 } +800 Exp]

 

Not having a direct line of sight on Clarie and Dhizi, it was a relief to see the kill notification being credited to them.

 

Watching the brutal infighting of the spiders, it became even more sickening as I realised that despite having most of their limbs torn off, their kill notifications hadn’t appeared yet. Worse still, the carnage was only drawing more spiders.

 

Gratefully accepting a rope from the warriors on the wall, I hastily climbed back up and looked around at the wider battlefield. Seeing that other areas could use my help, I issued a quest to Clarice informing her of my plan to abuse the Sand Stalker’s opportunistic cannibalism and how she could help.

 

Hurrying along the wall, I arrived just in time to watch an older tribal warrior deliver a crippling blow to A Sand Stalker’s nervous system.

 

Even though it was still alive, I waved the warriors off and then kicked its twitching body off the wall. As I had hoped, Sand Stalkers that had been headed towards the tribal warriors on the wall, now redirected to their paralysed kin.

 

“Stay low, try not to let them see you,” I warned as I ran off towards the next fight.

 

The next group of warriors weren’t faring nearly as well, three warriors were desperately fighting off a giant spider while the fourth was seizing and thrashing a short distance away.

 

“MAKE ROOM!” I roared, channelling mana into my morning star, I held it wide and low on my right side.

 

In no real position to do as I asked, the warriors each disengaged the best they could as I arrived in their midst.

 

As I had hoped, the Sand Stalker shifted its attention to me, or more specifically, the concentrated mana I was radiating. However, before it had time to leap or attempt at knocking me down with a forelimb, my morningstar came crashing into its underside.

 

*BOOM*

 

[You have slain {Sand Stalker: 3 } +1200 Exp]

The thunderclap was accompanied by an explosion of chitinous gore and splintered iron. The Sand Stalker’s limbs were sent flying in all directions as its abdomen and head tore free of each other and went flying over the wall.

 

Covered in bloody spider chitin, I numbly stared down at the splintered shaft of my weapon. The head of my morningstar had exploded and left nothing but a splintered stick. Dropping the ruined shaft of the Morningstar, I stiffly turned to the warriors who were each peppered in light wounds. “Take him to the Chief’s home,” I pointed to the prone warrior who had a pair of stab wounds in his back, “Healers will save him and tend your wounds, NOW GO!”

 

The sharper tone and volume of my final words seemed to draw them out of their dazed state. Taking hold of their downed companion, they rushed towards the nearest descent off the wall. So long as they hurried, there was every chance that the Surgeons could save the downed warrior. The Serpent-Kin could provide a party invite to share their racial resistance through Group Synergy, provided the warrior was conscious. Otherwise, they would be limited to treating it as best they can and using the magic of their class abilities to do the rest.

 

No longer able to leave this section of wall without it being comparatively vulnerable, I set myself to work gathering and throwing the spider’s legs and pulped organs off the wall and as far into the rocky waste as I could manage. Stripping off my thoroughly soiled robe and headscarf, I threw those out there too.

 

Just like the other locations I had already assisted, the spiders had turned on each other to compete for the otherwise free meal of their dead kin.

 

With only my warhammer left, I hunkered down and followed the advice I had given the previous group of warriors, staying out of sight as best I could in order to avoid attracting more spiders. As time slowly passed, I was pleased to see Clarice had accepted the quest for maiming but otherwise moving on from the spiders she was fighting outside the wall.

 

Of course, there was a steady stream of kill notifications attributed to her or Dhizi, but it was most likely due to the cannibalism of the spiders delivering killing blows, not Clarice’s recklessness. Not that Clarice wasn’t reckless, she definitely is, just that when Dhizi was involved Clarice demonstrated an otherwise unexpected level of caution that bordered on normal.

 

Warriors had begun patrolling the wall in force, the recent addition of the halberds, even though the warriors were not especially familiar with them yet, seemed to provide the much-needed edge in fighting the giant spiders. Considering the increase in reach and the natural heft of the halberds, I was not surprised by how well they had performed so much as how readily the warriors had accepted and began using them.

 

While chatting with a trio of warriors sent to replace those who had sought treatment, it was explained to me that they had used to have better weapons. While they did not have much worked iron or steel, they did have spears. However, most of the tribe’s weapons had been lost in the great fire and the wood from the local trees was unfit to shape anything longer than a foot at most.

 

When I asked more about the great fire, they had somewhat reluctantly explained that it had been the night when they lost their shaman, his apprentices, their Ward and weapon stockpile. The fires had devastated the village and left them barely able to defend themselves.

 

Curious why they weren’t at least using slings and stones to defend themselves against Gargant’s Slavers, the trio of warriors didn’t understand what I was talking about. Before the drought and the fire, some had thrown spears and others had apparently even used bows after copying or trading with adventurers. But none of them recognised a sling when I described it to them.

 

Thinking back on it, the Goblins from the first floor had used slings almost to the point of excess, while the Orcs had only used neolithic clubs and axes. Then there were the Deep Orcs and their iron axes. Unlike humans from earth who were born with basically nothing and had to learn everything from scratch, the Labyrinths monsters had prepackaged information in their brains from the moment they drew their first breath. While it had seemed an advantage originally, it was becoming more and more obvious that it heavily stunted their natural inquisitiveness and drive to innovate.

 

Realising I still didn’t know which subspecies of Orc these villagers were, and what they specialised in, I made a mental note to speak with Chief Uday. I would have continued asking the warriors, but I had the impression that they would be unwilling or resistant to answering further questions without first reporting to their Chief first anyway. After all, they were without a doubt going to tell him about the questions I had been asking, and why. Just because they weren’t as smart as the average Earthling, didn’t mean the Orcs were completely stupid.

 

Close to a half-hour after Ril had first opened the portal, the Ward was now beginning to take effect, the Sand Stalkers began to retreat with their prizes in staggered fighting retreats against their own kind.

 

Despite Clarice’s earlier conviction about taming and using Sand Stalkers as mounts, I had grown very sceptical after watching the spiders fight. Firstly, the joint between the cephalothorax and the abdomen seemed about the only logical place you could attach a collar. Secondly, attaching the collar would be borderline suicide without implementing all manner of traps that were almost certain to permanently cripple the spider and make the effort pointless. Thirdly, spiders were creepy as hell and I definitely didn’t want ‘friendly’ ones skittering around my general vicinity.

 

There should be D-Raptors out there somewhere too, assuming what I had observed of the labyrinth so far held true. Each floor introduced another biome and set of monsters while still providing an amalgam of those that came before, or their environmentally altered substitutes.

 

Then again, if the D-Raptors were out there, it was entirely possible that the Sand Stalkers were ganking them to extinction with each cycle. The Sand Stalkers moved much faster than the spiders we had seen in the second-floor scrublands. Combine that increase in speed along with the ambush tunnels and camouflaged trapdoors and it could explain why we hadn’t seen any of the mutant emus running around the place. The same was likely true of those spiny lizards as well.

 

No longer needed on the wall, I headed to the large well so we could begin the second stage of our plan.

 

As I expected, the toad-like Daemon Mors was already waiting for me. Dressed only in the same robes he had worn as a disguise while in Sanctuary, Mors didn’t seem all that bothered by the heat. His skin looked dryer than normal, but not in an unhealthy way. It actually made his otherwise rubbery hide seem more leathery and robust.

 

“Overlord,” Mors bowed awkwardly, his hybrid humanoid amphibian limbs struggling to conform to the motions.

 

“What can you tell me Mors?” I asked while glancing down the well.

 

“It is very dry, Overlord,” Mors replied somewhat jokingly, “Erm, that is, there is no local body of plant life for me to scout the surroundings with. It’s all dead or dormant.”

 

I didn’t mind Mors attempt at humour, it was one of his better and more human qualities that I valued. “So you will have to search while basically blind?” I guessed, somewhat understanding how the Druid’s Plant Sense worked.

 

Mors nodded, “I am unsure if the immediate area has the water to sustain a lengthy search, we will need to tap into the supplies I am afraid.”

 

I nodded in agreement, trusting his assessment, “Do it. In fact, have Toofy help. If she empties some of her supply of water into the well, it will give Ril somewhere to recover while you go searching for the water underground.”

 

“As you command, Overlord,” Mors bowed awkwardly again and was about to leave when he stopped and motioned for my attention again, “I should be able to extract moisture from the soil and gather it into one place, even if I cannot make contact with an underground reservoir. But it will take substantially longer to establish...”

 

“I trust your judgement, Mors. Just do what you think is best. Your progress is our top priority at this stage, but I know there are limits to what you can accomplish in a short time frame. Just do your best, that’s all I’m asking,” I reassured him.

 

Mors visibly relaxed, “As you command, Overlord.” He then waddled over to the Chief’s hut to find Ril and Toofy.

 

The bulk of the supplies brought from Sanctuary, especially the water and to a lesser extent the food, had already been stowed away in a heavily guarded supply house. Similarly, the bulk of the weapons had already been claimed and were in the hands of the tribe's warriors. What supplies remained, mostly crude cooking iron cookware and tools, were being distributed to the tribe's workers.

 

I was actually quite surprised to see how much progress the smiths had made in such a short period of time. I had been aware that soldiers had provided examples of different tools from their own supplies, but to make functional copies in such a short period of time was still impressive.

 

After the last of the supplies were unloaded, the sleds were carefully disassembled and remade into doors for the supply building, civilian emergency shelter, and Chief’s house, which was now serving as the hospital. Better than nothing, they would at least give defenders the opportunity to repel attacks with the makeshift barrier of the door, rather than a hide or sheet.

 

When Mors returned with Toofy and a very tired Ril in tow, a sizable crowd of tribespeople had begun to gather in anticipation of an announcement from the Chief. When Toofy climbed up onto the rim of the well, it didn’t draw much attention in and of itself. However, when the veritable torrents of water began surging out of her hands, the crowd was stunned into near-immediate silence, shortly followed by absolute chaos.

 

Mostly limited to pointing and shouting, the crowd was dumbfounded by Toofy’s ability to seemingly materialise water out of thin air. It wasn’t until the Chief arrived that things quieted down. However, before he had a chance to speak, things quickly erupted into a near riot when Mors began growing a small tree a short distance from the well.

 

Moving over to the well, I untied the jug from the end of the rope and tied a sling. After I was sure the knot wouldn't slip, I helped Ril into the sling and lowered her down in the water pooling at the bottom of the well.

 

Unsure of exactly how much water Toofy had stored away, I was surprised when she managed to fill the well about a quarter of the way before running out of stored water. Estimating the diameter of the well to be about ten feet and total depth of the well to be about a couple hundred feet deep, just judging by the length of the rope. Doing some rough math in my head, and then scratching it out in the dirt, I was stunned as I realised Toofy had around sixteen hundred square feet of storage space from her Class Ability.

 

Chief Uday had done his best to calm the crowd, but without knowing what was actually going on, his efforts were quite limited.

 

A part of me wanted to help. However, the more pragmatic and sleep-deprived parts of me decided it was to my greater advantage, and theirs, to just let things unfold as they may for the time being. Until Mors had results, or unless someone did something stupid, I was content just to watch and wait.

 

As time began to drag on, the crowd calmed down and dispersed. There were still some villagers watching from the shadowed alcoves of nearby houses, but for the most part, everyone else seemed to find more productive things to do.

 

Retrieving a tarpaulin and some wooden stakes from our personal supplies, I made a tent over the well to give Toofy some shade while she kept watch over Ril.

 

With no headscarf or robe, and already feeling tired from a lack of sleep and the rising heat, I hunkered down under the tent myself and tried to get some rest.

 

Waking up sometime later with Toofy and her wet towel draped over my stomach, I felt a bit better than when I had woken up early this morning, but still felt a little tired.

 

Noticing how dark it had gotten, I guessed that it was now most likely early evening.

 

Leaving the tent, I was quickly impressed by the fifteen-foot tall olive tree Mors had grown near the well. However, Mors seemed somewhat frustrated, which was rather concerning.

 

“What’s wrong?” I took a closer look at the olive tree but didn’t see anything wrong with it.

 

Mors sighed and ate an olive. “I have spent almost all my mana, Overlord, and found no reservoirs of water. Worse still, the immediate area is close to barren.”

 

“So it’s worse than we expected,” I sighed and plucked some olives from the tree. I hadn’t expected things to go smoothly, but I also hadn’t thought that the backup method would have failed either.

 

Mors nodded, “I can think of only one way to secure water without relying on repeatedly opening a portal to Sanctuary. But it is somewhat...distasteful,” the toad-like Daemon explained apprehensively.

 

“How?” I asked, intrigued by what solution the Daemon might have come up with.

 

“Reclamation,” Mors replied with a sidelong glance.

 

“You want to reclaim water from corpses?” I guessed. The Druids in Sanctuary already stripped vitamins and minerals from monster remains and excrement, so it wasn’t all that much of a leap for Mors to suggest stripping the corpses for their water. But there was a problem, how was he planning on making that water available for drinking?

 

Mors nodded and seemed reassured that I knew what he was intending. “I am confident I can effectively seal the ground beneath the village and allow for water to be accumulated over time. Once the water retention net is formed, corpses can be drained of their water in a similar fashion to the fountains of Sanctuary. Albeit at a much slower and more mana intensive rate.”

 

“Wait...You mean you could still do the water pumping out of the tree?” I asked curiously. I had been under the assumption that the water siphon was enabled by the tree serving as an organic pipe and drew water from underground as the result of attempting to equalise pressure.

 

Mors shrugged apologetically, “I believe so, although I have yet to actually try...I was also intending to generate a heat resistant dawnmoss, but it seems that may have to wait...”

 

“Do you have any ideas for the reclamation site?” Besides needing to be some distance from the well to avoid contamination, I wasn’t really aware of any other limitations.

 

“Somewhere on the outskirts of the village would probably be best. The distance won’t matter so much once the retention net of roots is firmly established,” Mors insisted reassuringly.

 

“Well, at least you brought shovels,” I sighed, “This is gonna take a lot of work before things get better, isn't it?”

 

Mors grinned and nodded, “Most likely, Overlord,” he agreed supportively.

 

“Alright, I'm going to speak with the Chief and try to get a work team together to dig some pits I guess.” The prospect of digging the pits myself, even with the extra help, already felt exhausting.

 

Every pit would have to be big enough to contain an entire Sand Stalker’s remains, at the least. So assuming we repurposed the tarpaulins to provide shade from the sun to reduce evaporation in the area, each pit would need to be incredibly deep, or incredibly wide. Personally, I would prefer digging a single deep pit and having Mors strangle the all bloody hell out of the spiders for everything they were worth, but even then I doubted we would be finished with just one pit.

 

Everything would be so much simpler, and easier, if Ril were able to just open another portal into the river or something and saturate the area to replenish the water table. Assuming Mors was able to stop the water from being leeched elsewhere, and the tribe was careful about avoiding evaporation, then they would gain water over time rather than losing it. But Ril was in no condition for opening another portal, and likely wouldn’t be for a week or more at the earliest. Ignoring the cost in mana, it had taken a severe toll on her mentally.

 

Searching for Chief Uday wasn’t hard, villagers were still pestering him with questions, which meant he was still providing loud but rather noncommittal answers. He actually seemed downright relieved when I approached and made it clear I wanted to have a conversation.

 

“Chief Uday, is there somewhere we can talk?” I asked in as lighthearted a tone as I could manage, not wanting to make his job any more difficult. “There are some things I need to talk to you about, and I am sure you have your own questions as well?”

 

Chief Uday nodded sternly and motioned to a nearby building, a palpable sense of relief emanating in his wake as he led the way through the small crowd. Once we had both entered the building, and a small contingent of warriors had taken stations at the entrances, the Chief visibly relaxed, although his deep blue eyes continued staring shrewdly at me. Doubtless trying to determine the true reason for requesting the private meeting.

 

Deciding to start things on a positive note, I explained everything that had happened since the portal opened in a context that would be easy not just for him, but his people to understand. It wasn’t that complicated to begin with, but the revelation that we all had Classes and special abilities because of them, went a long way in explaining the most fantastical things we had done.

 

My none too subtle hint that I intended to share the knowledge of Classes once we were formally allied generated some goodwill as well. Which was a good thing too, since Mors plan and the requisite labour and risks put something of a downer on the whole conversation. Not that they wouldn’t be hunting Sand Stalkers otherwise for food and silk. But the sudden provision of food supplies, the well being partially refilled and the olive tree that sprung up in a single afternoon, had given the impression that the high risks of hunting would be avoided for a long time.

 

I sympathized with the old-timer, I really did, but restoring this village was going to take real effort, and unfortunately, no small amount of risk. However, as I saw it, Chief Uday basically had two choices. Either he accepts the proposal and Stone Well would slowly recover, even thrive in the future. Or he could refuse and watch his people succumb.

 

Food, water, the Ward, they were all interventions I had provided and they could all be taken away at any time.

 

What Chief Uday had been given was not salvation, but a reprieve from desolation and a decision that would decide his people's future.

 

“We can start with the lowest risk elements of the plan first,” I suggested helpfully, “Digging a few pits on the outskirts of the village won’t expose anyone to danger, and once my team provides the first Stalker for reclamation, you will be able to see the results for yourself.” It was an easy compromise to suggest since Clarice was going to be involved in the hunting of Stalkers either way.

 

Chief Uday remained silent and carefully considered his options. Releasing a deep sigh and bowing his head slightly, Chief Uday nodded, “Stone Well must survive. Workers and hunters follow orders,” he agreed.

 

After taking some time to repeat my explanation for events, with his own spin on events, the Chief set about drafting workers to begin digging the pits. The hunters were put under Jarwal’s command, who was in turn put under mine. I had expected Jergal to be chosen because of his experience, but considering the intense glares he was giving me, I may have been expecting too much.

 

Still, as over-eager as Jarwal was, he did seem to have the respect of the younger hunters, and our rescue of the hunters the day before had earned us no small amount of respect from the hunters as a whole as well. This was good, because our hunting methods were going to be more than a little bit unconventional to say the least...

 

*****

 

Severin quietly picked the lock and then unlatched the back door to the garrison kitchens. Given the late hour, it was currently abandoned and the cooks wouldn’t be expected to return for at least a few hours at the earliest.

 

Unsheathing his combat knife, Severin stalked across the room and pressed his ear to the door leading to the barracks mess hall. Judging by the muffled voices beyond, he could confirm there were at least two people, but quite possibly three still lingering after the evening meal, or perhaps standing guard.

 

Not outside of his original expectations, Severin limbered up in preparation for combat. His standing orders had been to sow as much discord as possible in the border garrison to lower morale in preparation for the invasion. Murdering a bunch of soldiers in their sleep would very much accomplish the mission's objectives, and minimise the risks of being injured or killed, which was why Severin had patiently waited for his moment.

 

Removing a small pouch of oil from a pouch at his waist, Severin liberally oiled the hinges of the door. While they may have already been suitably greased, only a rookie would make such a mistake as assuming what could be confirmed. Replacing the pouch, Severin once again pressed his ear to the door and listened intently.

 

From what he could hear, it sounded like one of the occupants had left. Unwilling to assume the number of targets had decreased, Severin carefully and slowly began inching the door open.

 

As he had suspected, there were still three soldiers in the mess hall. Two were standing by the brazier in the middle of the room, while the third was lingering near the primary entrance that led to the street. All three soldiers were wearing the standard issued gambeson, hauberk and padded coifs supplied by the Asrusian army.

 

Their armour itself gave Severin little cause for concern, the tempered steel blade in his hand was made from materials sourced from the twentieth floor of the Yul Labyrinth and provided Severin used enough force, would slice through the inferior steel and padded cloth like butter.

 

Stalking closer to the soldier by the door, Severin was careful to make the most of the available shadows and his own Concealment Ability. Short of attacking in the open, or the soldiers having a detection Class Ability, Severin was effectively invisible.

 

With the soldier now within striking distance, Severin raised his blade and tensed to strike.

 

*Shink*

 

Like a hot knife through butter, Severins blade cleanly entered the soldier’s back milliseconds after his hand clamped over the soldier's mouth to prevent him from crying out. Guiding the body to the floor, Severin began stalking towards his next victim, but stopped suddenly as something tugged on his leg.

 

“In-tru-der,” the dead soldier gurgled, his hand clawing at Severin’s ankle, determination and no small amount of mana burning in his eyes.

 

Impossible! Severin snapped a kick at the downed soldier’s temple. Just a lowly grunt, there was no way he should have been high enough level to survive Severin’s Backstab, how the hell had he done it?! Had Severin’s aim been off? Had the blade missed its mark?!

 

*Thud*

 

Severin’s heel clipped the downed soldier’s temple, momentarily stunning, but not killing him.

 

The fuck is going on?! Is he actually one of their Special Forces?!

 

The downed intruder vomited a mouthful of blood, confirming that Severin had indeed delivered a fatal blow. However, after emptying his lungs, the soldier promptly refilled and emptied them again, “INTRUDER!”

 

Severin very nearly froze in horror, but every one of his instincts were screaming at him to run, so he did. Or at least, he attempted to.

 

The dying soldier refused to let him go, doggedly clinging to Severin’s cloak, that same determination still burning in his eyes.

 

Hearing weapons being drawn, Severin barely managed to unclasp and abandon his cloak in time to avoid a sword arcing through the air his left shoulder had occupied a half-second earlier.

 

Staggering backwards, Severin tried to regain his balance but despaired as the otherwise unassuming pair of soldiers charged after him, swords already ready to strike again, the same fixed stares of determination burning in their eyes.

 

The hell?! There are more of them?!

 

Knowing he had to escape, Severin attempted to tumble over a mess table and sprint for the door to the kitchen.

 

*Thwack! Twing, Twank*

 

Severin had barely made it onto the table when one of his pursuers delivered an impossibly fast downward stroke against Severin’s thigh. His high-quality leathers saved him from being cut open, but the force of impact still penetrated deep into Severin’s flesh and caused him to gasp in pain. The blow was so powerful that the soldier’s sword had snapped and sent the broken piece flying against the distant wall.

 

Continuing his roll, Severin felt his heart nearly explode in his chest as a vice-like grip materialised on his right arm and yanked him back off the table.

 

*Wham!*

 

Bouncing off the mess hall wall, Severin desperately gasped for air as he tried to ignore the pain from his dislocated shoulder.

 

*Thump, Thump, Crack!”

 

Two brutal kicks to the chest and abdomen landed before Severin could curl into a fetal position to protect himself, which caused the third kick to shatter his left forearm.

 

This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go! He had been betrayed! How was the enemy this powerful?!

 

The sound of none too distant voices growing closer made it clear that the soldiers would not be alone for long. Unfortunately, Severin was in no position to escape. Staring pitifully up at the soldiers who had defeated him so easily, Severin felt like he was in the presence of true monsters...