Chương 30: The Perfect Gift

You gotta lead 'em on. Just a tiiiiny bit more mana. Like a carrot on a stick, keep that reward just out of reach. They'll never know what hit 'em. —The Hangover's Guide to Ambushing Adventurers A growling stomach roused me the next morning. The scent of warm, crusty, fresh-baked bread had my feet on the floor before I had fully opened my eyes, and suddenly, I couldn't find fault with Darby for taking it upon himself to requisition my materials.

If I was completely honest with myself, there were still plenty, though perhaps not enough for the larger charcoal kiln I had imagined. It was being put to as good a use as it could be. I was sure my neighbors would all agree—you can't eat charcoal. One quick, and rather fulfilling breakfast later, I was on my way to the hill. I'd not been able to progress much while waiting on the bricks to dry, and I was excited to get going again. The rain had stopped, but the heavy clouds remained.

Equipped with my sweater and damp shoes that only slightly squelched, I made my way up the hill behind the village. True to his word, the majority of the bricks were stacked neatly against the side of the forge, covered by brush. I got to work, digging a small circle into the ground. I removed the top layer of moist dirt and placed a layer of bark, scrapped from breaking down the fireleaf, onto the floor. The heat-reflective nature would help to insulate, at least that was the idea.

The bricks made up the support structure, and I layered them in circles, each one a single brick smaller, and a dome formed as each circle shrank. I left the top open to allow me to fit all of the material inside. Once stable, I removed bricks from the base, creating a gap for every third brick. This way, air could easily feed the flames until the heat inside got to the required intensity. I took a step back and surveyed my creation. > Small Charcoal Kiln > A small clay kiln for making charcoal.

> Quality: Common > Grade: Low > Pottery Leveled Up! A level! It has been too long! Feeling quite satisfied, I began hauling wood up the hill from the longhouse dry storage. Each load of firewood was carefully lined into the furnace vertically. The outermost ring was made of the 'useless' fireleaf logs, which I scored several times with my hatchet to ensure there were gaps for moisture to escape.

The last thing I needed was to create little wooden bombs in my kiln when the moisture evaporated and the gas was trapped by a tight layer of bark. Regular, more combustible wood made up the inner rings. I double-stacked these on top of each other, creating two layers of the material. Left with a smaller furnace, I needed to make good use of the limited space available to me. Using the flint and steel, I made a small fire and let it slowly burn from the top down.

Air coming in the vents kept the thick, white smoke billowing out the top. It was moisture-heavy and would need to burn off any water before I could seal the furnace and let it cook in its own heat. I sat down to keep an eye on its progress while I came up with something for Joann. She was a seamstress, and while I hadn't dug too deeply into that area in my tutorial perusals, I did have one idea. The biggest issue we faced currently was a lack of materials, and for Joann, that would be either thread or cloth.

Considering the idea a while longer, I got up to check on the fire. It was hot now, blazing properly. I didn't want it to burn too heavily, so I pushed the bricks back into place at the base of the kiln, choking off the majority of the intake. The softened soil removed from the base made a good sealant, and I packed it on, ensuring that only a small amount of air made its way in. I left it to cook off the moisture and went for a short walk while I pondered.

The overcast autumn day was comforting, though quite cool, and I found myself daydreaming about a nice pumpkin spice coffee. Back on Earth, the ads would be everywhere. Pumpkins, apples, orchards, anything orange, really. Ooooh, Apples! Mmmm cider... What I wouldn't give for a nice hot spiced cider. Thoughts of cozier and more comfortable times had brought me down the far end of the hill, a good way from the town. The tall grass whispered in the soft breeze, occasionally waving upward, tickling at my hands.

I followed the edge of the hill, slowly sloping downward until I ended up back at the stream and followed it to town. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Danny was hard at work with his help, already constructing the stables with an attached barn for the horses. Adjacent was the farm, where I spotted Tim tending his produce. I had to do a double-take. Neat rows of green vegetables lined the first quarter of the small field, and I approached for a better look.

Large, full heads of cabbage and lettuce made up two tightly packed, tidy rows. Tim was hunched over the start of the third row, and I made my way over to him, taking care not to step on his precious plants. It wasn't until I made it directly behind him that I heard the soft groans.

"Tim? You doing okay?" He only moaned more loudly in response, and I saw his hand clutching his forehead when I moved around to get a look at his face. His eyes were clenched shut, his face pale and strained. I looked back behind me, at the two neat rows of nearly twenty fully grown plants.

"Ah. Yeah. That'll definitely do it." I grimaced at the memory of my first mana-migraine and felt only a little bad for him. It totally wasn't like he'd been told by several people to never bottom out.

"Everyone's gotta do it at least once, I suppose. How else are you gonna' learn?" He only pressed his hands over his ears in response, rocking back and forth.

"You want me to take you inside? Would you like that, buddy?" I patted his back and only spoke a little bit louder. He just shook his head, clenching his ears more tightly, and then immediately moaned again at the movement, as if hungover. Huh. That was pretty apt. A mana hangover. I stood up and left the poor guy to his bad decisions. Being so close to a level-up was one hell of a drug.

I stopped by the longhouse to grab my bag and spirit tree branches before a wandering hand could use them for kitchen oven tinder, or whatever wandering hands did with expensive magical wood. Completely unrelated, Darby was busy, hovering over Tabitha's shoulder and soaking in her every word. He was too focused to notice me, and I left them to their craft while I got to mine.

"And you want to use the mint? Not a bad choice; it really is good for the marinade. We can use the oil with that citrusy fruit. And where is Tim at? The salad needs prepping, and he said he'd…" Tabitha's musings were cut off as I left the longhouse with my goods. Where they had gotten oil and fruit… I couldn't begin to guess, but I sure couldn't wait until dinner that night. An idea was percolating.

I had seen Joann spinning her own thread, and thought that might be a good place to start, but she was getting ridiculously good at it. I didn't know what kind of plants she used, but it seemed that she had thread production under control. At least for now, until it became a bottleneck. The woodcutting station made for my last stop. A tall man in his thirties with short, dark hair and a thick black beard was operating one of the saws, shaping boards.

He looked up as I arrived and introduced himself with a warm smile.

"Howdy, Logan!" He put a hand out to shake, and I was surprised at his rough, hard hands. He'd either been busy since arriving or had decided to keep the calluses from his daytime lumberjack gig back on Earth, if I had to make a guess as to his previous vocation.

"Morning, Curtis." I returned the smile and nodded at his shirt.

"Just need the red flannel, and you're set."

"Not the first one to tell me that," he laughed.

"What can I do for ya' boss?" I laid out my idea, and he quickly warmed to it. Joann, it would seem, was high on everyone's list to make a friend.

"I'll have the pieces cut in a jiffy!" Back on the hill, I dropped my bag and laid out my materials. Before I could get to work on Joann's gift, I wanted to prepare the spirit tree branches. I was still undecided if I'd use them, but they needed processing anyway. I carefully removed each leaf, preserving them between two small wooden boards. Eventually, they would need to be kept in a sealed container.

I removed the smaller twigs from one of the main branches and left the other untouched, not wanting to give both the same treatment in case I was damaging it. With the trimming complete, I set them to the side and checked the kiln. The smoke had taken on a grey color. It wouldn't be long now, and I'd completely seal the base and top, trapping the heat to cook the wood down into charcoal.

"Good lord, you've got a hike!" The call came from behind, and I turned to see Curtis trudging over the lip of the steep slope.

"That'll keep you in shape for sure! Let me know if you need help getting it down when you're done." I gave my thanks to my new friend and waved goodbye as he headed back down the hill, leaving me to begin work on Joann's magical loom.