Chương 11: Chapter Eleven: Irrigation

What did Hollis know about parasites that could help him in his current predicament? Not much. Most of his education came from preventing a parasitic infection. Keeping the infected at bay was another matter in which he had little experience, and even his Medicine skill offered only common-sense advice like "be sure to wash any exposed area thoroughly after contact." If he had gotten water in his boots, that might have been a real concern.

Luckily, his feet and socks were dry, so any microscopic worms were unlikely to be a problem. But what if infection itself was the cure? Would the skeletons attack one of their own? Could he infect himself with the parasite as camouflage, then do as the medicine woman in the Brittle Bud story suggested: take medicine to cure it? There was no evidence that would work, and even if it would, he wasn't that desperate. Yet.

If anything, the presence of an infected skeleton sitting against the wall right where its host had fallen suggested that the creatures still pursued people until death, or else that poor guy wouldn't have closed himself in the room to escape them. He had to really examine his options. That meant unloading and going through the items available to him. The supplies he brought from Earth would have little use against these foes. His weapons were ineffective.

Willo's abilities had limited use because the creatures were nearly blind, and though he could secrete a toxin that caused vomiting, the effects on the skeletons were unclear, even if he could produce enough to matter. He went through his things anyway. The possessed wolf pelt didn't offer any obvious uses, though it could serve as a distraction if he let it loose. Then there was the wooden bird he had picked up off the desk in the entry hallway. He hadn't paid much attention to it, but now he had the time.

It was a thing of beauty, even if its proportions were a bit exaggerated. The carving was precise, the wood quite hard, but the wings were fairly flexible. [Investigation lvl. 4] You see a children's toy shaped like a bird. Its creation took much skill. Many abilities and adaptations have been grafted into it. You need a much higher Crafting skill to understand them. Wood crafting was one of the more powerful sources of magic in Periapt.

Trees had so many magical properties that the things made from them could be imbued with wondrous powers. In fact, a milestone required by the tutorial was to collect wood for the local woodcrafter to grow you a walking stick, one of the most ubiquitous items in the game. The type of wood could alter the walking stick's powers. They started out with basic things, like being able to be planted in dirt to repair themselves and passive effects from touching the wood, but the power could grow much greater.

Hollis didn't know much about woodcraft, let alone how to graft on magical powers. His time in the game had barely taught him how to barter for new powers from eidolons. Grafting the abilities of one plant onto another was far beyond his skill or expertise. He did, however, know how to activate those abilities. That was the magic of Breath. Breath contained the ability to return life to an inanimate object just long enough to activate its powers. Hollis held out the bird and gently blew on it.

His Breath meter fluctuated for a moment. As soon as he breathed onto it, the little wooden bird began flapping its wooden wings and, to Hollis' great surprise, lifted right out of his hands and flew halfway across the room. He began to laugh. Flight. Someone with great skill had found a way to graft flight into that little wooden toy. One of the bone creatures outside heard the bird clatter to the ground and started a new session of pounding the metal door. Hollis' wonder quickly faded.

He could still find use in the toy, though. He picked it up, aimed it at the ceiling, and activated it. The bird flew up, then fell back down into Hollis' hands when he aimed it just right. What a shame it was to discover such a beautiful feat of magic only to be trapped underground with it, possibly for the rest of his life. He sent the bird up, then caught it when it came back down. He practiced flying it in circles, imbuing it with Breath every time it passed him.

It took Mind in the form of concentration to steer it. He wasn't skilled enough to see what abilities he was activating, but it was intuitive. He could hardly believe it when he figured it out.

"If you were a hundred times bigger, I could just fly you across the room," he said to the little bird. Then he looked at Willo.

"Same for you." But the bird was not Hollis' ticket out of the room. As he practiced keeping the bird airborne, he happened to look up to the ceiling once more, and what he saw captured his attention away from the bird. It crashed to the ground near the decayed body. He saw the roots that had broken through the ground above, spilling out of tiny cracks in the stone itself. Those roots had grown down in their search for water. They had almost found it.

"Maybe," he whispered aloud as he hatched a plan. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. He began climbing up the stone wall, digging his fingers into the small cracks that had formed. [Traversal lvl. 4] It took him a few tries. He basically had to take a running start to jump, climb the wall, and then reach out toward the thickest root he could find.

Eventually, he grabbed one that met his needs and hung from it for a moment before it snapped, sending him plummeting to the floor. He recovered quickly enough. Then, the investigation really started. [Investigation lvl. 4] You see the roots of a great tree. Your Naturalism skill is not enough to identify its type. So, he added a point to Naturalism. You were a studious pupil at university. You wanted to know the wheres, hows, and whys of Periapt's creatures.

Your professors rated you among the most promising students in the study of nature. [Naturalism lvl 5] -> [Naturalism lvl. 6] Luckily, that did the trick, leaving him seven spare skill points. He had hoped to hold onto them for longer. [Naturalism lvl. 6] You see a small offshoot of a dominant taproot. Based on the trees in the area and the depth at which it is found, it likely came from a great sour gum. That one revelation set off another, enabling his Taxonomy skill to be more useful. [Taxonomy lvl. 3] Great Sour Gum Indeterminate Growth- an adaptation that allows parts of the creature to continuously grow throughout their life. Take Root: Long tendrils burrow into the earth. [Cultivation lvl. 3] Dowse: This creature can sense the location of nearby water. [Prospecting lvl. 2] Sap Ascen t: Liquid moves from the base of the plant upward. [Prospecting lvl. 2] Hollis had expected more adaptations and abilities, but he was dealing with the plant's root, not the whole thing.

He also hadn't expected that some of these abilities would scale off the Prospecting skill, but since that skill governed finding minerals and other resources underground, it wasn't that ridiculous His Medicine skill told him the root worked as an astringent, which dried and tightened human tissue, making it good for wound care, such as cuts and sore throats, but also as an anti-diarrheal. He could explore that aspect later when the time came.

He had never actually seen a root being used for crafting before, so he could only guess at what powers they had. This little piece of wood was far simpler in design and functionality than the wooden bird, but he wondered if it could be used the same way. Wood carvers would bend and mold wood into whatever shape they wanted using both the Crafting and Cultivation skills. Cultivation, as the name suggested, governed the growth and care of plants for food, medicine, or magic. It didn't mean anything else.

He had seen the box crates in the warehouse when he came in. They had looked as if they had been grown into that shape rather than built because they likely had been. Someone had taken the time to trigger a woody plant's Indeterminate Growth adaptation using Breath and guide it using Mind to get the shape they wanted. The same thing was done to make a good walking stick. Hollis' idea was right up the same alley. The question was, could he pull it off? There was only one way to find out.

He brought the little piece of root over near the door, where water still sat in puddles. He put the root down in the water and gave it Breath. It came to life with little effort, for all the good it did him. The root started soaking up the water. It had been shrunken and dry, but it soon filled back out. The problem was, he needed it to be a whole lot bigger. When Hollis needed a walking stick, he first chose to collect a piece from a driftwood tree, which, unlike Earth's driftwood, was its own species.

It was magically buoyant and was often used to make ships. Sailors wore toggles and buttons made from it on their clothing to help them stay afloat. The woodcraftsman had planted his piece in the ground, and slowly over the period of two days, grew it to the size of a proper walking stick. In his second playthrough as an adult, he had simply chopped off a piece of woody grape vine and had it turned into a walking stick, since it would occasionally bear edible fruit.

The question was, could he use Cultivation to get the root up to the size he needed? He didn't know how to craft a proper walking stick that was hard and light like a woodcrafter could. He didn't need that. He just needed it to be as long as the room he was in. So, he gave the root more breath, triggering its Indeterminate Growth adaptation, allowing it to grow in Hollis' hands. The problem was, the root needed more than breath or water to grow. It needed sustenance.

Without sunlight or leaves to gather it, there was only one source. Blood ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰ [10/10] Hollis had a tough choice to make. His plan was a slow but clever one, by his own estimation. The skeletons needed water. If he could make the root long enough, he could have it burrow under the door, soak up the water, and then send it spilling to the other side of the room, where it would fall into the chasm. But making the plant grow without sunlight might cost him his very life.

He focused on the root, giving it Breath, guiding it with his Mind. How was he supposed to give it Blood? Did he need to actually drip it onto the root like some brutal offering? It turned out he didn't. It could take it right through his skin, leaving a red splotchy bruise, but as Hollis had hoped, it did begin working. He soaked up the water from the entryway near the door as the root grew longer and sprouted off smaller hair-like offshoots. [Cultivation lvl. 3] Soon, the water was gone.

He would need to activate the plant's Take Root ability. When the time came for that, he braced himself as the roots started growing straight into the grout between the tile under the door. What had been a fairly good seal broke after five minutes or so of effort. The wiggling roots were ferocious. They fought their way through the grout and tile toward the water on the other side. He looked at his Vitals.

Blood ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱ [9/10] Mind ▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱ [5/9] Breath ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱ [8/10] Bile ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱ [9/10] Spirit ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱ [8/11] His Breath could replenish itself, and his Mind did too when he stopped for breaks, though not completely. Water started to trickle in from the tiny holes the roots had dug, but it was absorbed quickly by the plant. Hollis looked at his bruised hand. He laughed at the absurdity. The tutorial taught Cultivation by having players force flower buds to bloom. That was trivial.

In the sunlight, with patience, plants could be grown and trained by hand. Explorers would trigger bushes in the wilds to grow more fruit and then return a week later to collect it. This was a different scenario. You are hungry. Of course, he was. He would need to eat just enough to stave off that warning, or else none of his Vitals would heal on their own. The root had grown to about sixteen inches. He would need about twenty more feet of the main stem, and who knew how many tiny roots under the door.

But if he kept working, kept cultivating the root, he might just be able to drain the swamp. He knew what these skeletons did when they were out of water. The little parasite had turned tail rather than venture too far away from its puddle. The skeleton in the old story had run straight across town back to its pond. The only question was, which would empty first, the water in the next room, or his Blood Vital?