Chapter Thirteen: Vigilance (Patreon)

Making a decision that a shelter right next to the river doesn’t seem like the best of ideas, I start looking for a spot a little more distant. I don’t know what creatures come to drink here, so putting myself close enough for them to catch my scent would not be a smart move. I settle on a spot among the trees about fifty metres away from the river – close enough to easily avail myself of the fresh water; far enough that I shouldn’t be within easy hearing or sight range as long as I’m quiet and hidden. Which brings me onto my next job.

First, I find a tree with a crook just a bit more than a metre above the ground. Piling dead leaves into a cushion, I then lay one of my coats over the ‘mattress’. Searching for a long branch, I find one that’s about two and a half metres long. Perfect. I prop it up in the crook of the tree to make the backbone of my shelter. Next, I hunt for some smaller sticks which I prop up against the tree as its ‘ribs’.

Continuing with smaller and smaller branches and then twigs, I flesh out the walls of my shelter. After that, I find some dead, low-growing plants that look rather similar to bracken. To put the final touches on my make-shift shelter, I pile as many dead leaves over the whole structure as I possibly can. My ‘memories’ tell me that this should be a pretty warm shelter and it will even stand up to a light rainfall. It won’t be much use against a heavy downpour, or elongated rain, nor can it protect me if something decides to come investigating. Still, I have to hope that the plethora of natural materials will disguise my scent enough to make the structure completely uninteresting.

It may seem pretty simple to make, and really, in terms of required skill and tools, it was, but it’s taken me enough time that the sun is already setting by the time I’m done, and I’m exhausted. I’ve never done this much physical work, and I think gloomily of how much more I have ahead of myself. I try to jolly myself in thinking that I’ll soon be a supermodel, but that doesn’t work when I know I’ve got a good year before I’m going to see anyone.

I dine on bird flesh – which is pretty tasty – and a few of the beans. It’s more satisfying than my previous night’s supper and the temptation to go back for more isn’t so pressing. I’m cheered further by the discovery that the meat is still hot: clear evidence that time doesn’t pass in my Inventory, or passes very slowly. After washing up, drinking from the stream and filling up my canteen, and then relieving myself, I decide to go to bed.

No doubt it’s not much later than seven or eight pm, an hour I would normally be spending on watching TV – or working – but I’m bushed. There’s little for me to do once the light disappears anyway: I still don’t have a torch and I haven’t lit a fire. Sliding into my shelter feet first, I pull another coat over me and then pile more leaves in the opening, almost blocking it off completely.

Despite my memories telling me that it would be the case, I’m still surprised at how quickly the temperature rises in my little cocoon of leaves, and how comfortable it is. Much better than the previous night of lying directly on the cold ground with one side freezing and the other burning. It increases my desire to create a proper shelter in which I can be both comfortable and somewhat safe.

*****

I actually sleep pretty well in the end. Certainly far better than last night. Sure, I wake up a couple of times when something comes snuffling too close for comfort to my shelter, and once my heart started pounding when I realised that the beast was probably less than a metre away from my face. Fortunately for me, it didn’t come any closer, so I made it through the night, face intact. I hurt, though, my muscles protesting at the amount of unusual effort they’ve been subjected to. Casting a Lay-on-hands, I sigh with relief as the aching subsides. Munching on bird flesh and beans again – I have plans for the seaweed – I check my status screen.

Nothing much has changed – the Energy I’ve accumulated just by surviving has pushed my progress to the next level to 15%, but that’s all. Slightly disappointed, I’m about to close the screen when I notice something else: the amount of Energy being absorbed per hour has increased from five to seven units. I decide to keep checking at different intervals during the day as I walk to see if it increases further.

Then, with a bit of dismay, I realise I forgot to absorb another knowledge stone yesterday. Damn it! An opportunity wasted! Still, maybe it’s not so bad – I hadn’t realised how much time it would take for the knowledge from the previous stone to settle. I only really started feeling more comfortable with it when I began putting some of the methods into practice; building this shelter was actually really useful for that.

It makes me question the order in which I should absorb the stones: Tracking would probably be the most useful one next as, even if I’m not intending on actually hunting creatures for now, knowing which areas to avoid would be quite good information. As for the hunting stone… originally I planned for that to be my third knowledge stone, but as it is I’ve got enough food for a good few days and, frankly, I haven’t got any tools for hunting. Not that I’ve done it before, but I can’t imagine that a knife alone will be much use. No, I’m going to have to invest time into making tools, which means I need to have a stable home base.

As a result, that pushes hunting down the priority list, possibly by as much as two weeks. Food will be getting a bit low by then, even if I miss lunch, but maybe if I test some of the local foliage I’ll find some bits to supplement the meat. Suddenly I regret eating the bird meat as otherwise now would be a perfect time to start the test.

Sighing, I once more push my regret to one side, reminding myself that it won’t help anything. Even so, I can’t help the way it brings my mood down. Still, I think, trying to cheer myself up, I’ve been attacked every day so far; no reason that that should change. Meals on wheels. Then I wonder why I even considered that the thought of regularly being attacked would actually cheer me up instead of depressing me more.

Forcing myself to think of something else, I tentatively decide to absorb the system lore stone tomorrow – while it isn’t necessarily something with immediate application, it might hold some key secrets to my new existence, without which I will make some (more) unforgivable mistakes.

The tracking stone ends up not being as information-heavy as the wilderness survival one and I manage to escape with just a bad headache that eases fairly quickly. It does make me look at the world differently, though. Things which had previously been simple marks now transformed into indications of various animals’ passage.

I look at the ground near my shelter and find the tracks of whatever animal came close last night. Just from the marks it left behind, I can tell it’s some sort of small pig or boar, about 50kg in weight, perhaps, rooting through the leaves in search of food. Getting closer, I sniff and my nose picks up some muskiness. Probably a young male, alone. My mouth waters a bit as I think about bacon. Shame that’s still a long way off.

Right. No time to waste – I’ve got a lot to do and the day is only so long. After packing my coats back into my Inventory, I walk to the stream for a drink and quick wash. Filling my waterskin, I drink deeply and then refill it. Looking thoughtfully at the pond weed, I wonder if I can actually start testing it for edibility. Not by eating it, but just by testing whether it is irritating on contact.

I figure that if I just let it touch my skin, I shouldn’t be risking it interacting with what I’ve already eaten. Plus, if there is any irritation, I know it will be the plant as I’ve eaten both bird meat and beans with no ill effects. Deciding that it’s I good idea, I reach in and snag a leaf. Fortunately, this stuff is pretty common, so if it turns out I can eat it, I’ll have plenty of supply in the pools particularly.

First, I inspect the leaf. It doesn’t have any tell-tale signs which often indicate poison: it doesn’t have hairs, nor does it exude milky or almond-smelling sap. It’s not brightly coloured either. Though, of course, those signs might mean nothing in this strange world, which is why I’ll have to be careful with the next steps. I rub the leaf against the skin of my inner forearm, at first gently. Waiting for a few minutes for any initial symptoms to emerge, I look around myself.

It’s another beautiful day, though this one is a bit more humid than the previous. Fingers of fog drift between the trees, though are nowhere near thick enough to block out the sun. Birds are chirping, and I can see a couple of animals downstream drinking. They’re those deer-analogues again. I say deer-analogues because they have long legs and slim bodies and are pretty graceful and quick to jump away when danger threatens. That seems to be the end to their similarities, though, as they seem to be reptilian in type. Though...they’re moving pretty fast – could they be warm-blooded? Is it possible? Lizards would normally be moving slowly at this time of the morning, not having had the chance to warm up in the sun… A question for later.

Time’s up. I check my skin carefully, looking for any hint of irritation or tingling. Nothing. This time, I rub the leaf more vigorously on my skin, making sure to get some of the sap from inside the leaves on me. Again, I wait for a few minutes by the stream, just in case there’s a quick reaction which requires me to wash the area off pronto.

After the minutes have gone by with nothing appearing, I drop the leaf in satisfaction. I’d better leave eight hours just to see if there is any further change, but if all goes well, I’ll eat a small amount of this tomorrow morning.

Of course, that assumes there will be more pondweed wherever I am by tomorrow morning, but I saw a fair bit of it yesterday, so I have to hope that the trend holds true. So thinking, I set off downstream.

While I walk, I take the time to notice all the little marks of animal passage. Here’s an imprint in the mud at the edge of the stream – a small animal, perhaps up to ten kilograms in weight, alone. There’s the mark of a predator sharpening its claws on a tree – an ambush predator, most likely, possibly one that uses the treetops as its coverage. I look up, reflexively flinching back. There’s nothing up there, but it does remind me to keep watching all around myself, not just the field of vision at eye level.

My vigilance gives me enough warning to cover my face with my arm when the attack does come. Something swings at me and I dodge out of the way blindly. Stumbling away, I chance a look and see...something. It’s really weird. A formless mass clinging to the branch above me, with a long spiky tail that it had swung down at me.

How am I supposed to fight that thing? I can’t reach it’s body, not even with my spear, and I’m not going anywhere near that tail. The way the light glints wetly on the spikes make me wonder if they’re coated in some sort of poison. I watch it warily as it curls its tail up, and then...goes still. Is it some one-hit wonder, or something? Maybe. It’s certainly not trying to pursue me, just lying there in wait for its next potential prey.

Seriously weird, I think to myself, shaking my head as I cautiously move away. If I had some sort of long distance weapon, I’d probably try and take it on: I’m not keen on leaving creatures that have tried to kill me alive to try again in the future. Unfortunately, that would take more time than I really want to waste; I’d rather just keep going. Live and let live. But I’ll keep my eyes on the trees above, that’s for sure.

Rock-dropping birds, mini-crocodiles, ambushing black blobs...what other weirdness does this new world have to threaten me with?