Base Camp Part Two

We moved through unfamiliar forests, crossing shallow rivers and winding paths. Some walked slower than others, weary from travel, but the pathfinders kept us steady — always at the front, picking the best routes through the shifting terrain.

"Hold here!" one of them called out, stopping the line.

"There's a clearing up ahead," another added. "We should rest there."

The group breathed a collective sigh of relief and began settling down in the space beyond the trees. The clearing was wide and mostly open, with only a few scattered trees and soft patches of red-tinted grass. Not far from it — maybe a five or ten-minute walk — someone discovered a lake.

Several of us wandered toward it. The last time anyone had washed was during a brief rainstorm back at the old camp. Bathing now, in clean water, felt like a luxury.

I wasn't very hungry, so I decided to explore a little instead. The forest around the clearing reminded me of pine woods, though the trees had deep brown trunks and pine-like needles that shimmered purple in the light.

"Huh. This place isn't too shabby?"

I turned to see Mira standing behind me, grinning from ear to ear.

"We should stay here a while. Base Camp Part Two," she said, holding up two fingers with a playful smirk.

"You might be right," I said. "We probably won't find a better spot to settle. Especially with a lake nearby."

"Wanna start making some plans with me?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

I smiled. "Absolutely. I could use a good planning partner."

We didn't have paper or pencils — only sticks and dirt. So we knelt in the clearing and started sketching out the layout of a village.

A few of the other builders joined us. Even a fighter and a pathfinder came over, offering input. It felt… good. Collaborative. Like something worth building.

We started with the essentials: houses. Forty-two people, no more, no less. We didn't have the resources to build a house for everyone, so we settled on seven five-person houses, and one larger seven-person home.

The fighter suggested we include a storehouse for meat and supplies. The builders asked for a shared workshop space. The pathfinders wanted to set up small outposts deeper into the forests to help them map and explore more efficiently.

Once the plans were finalized, we got to work.

The builders split into teams and started crafting tools — axes, saws, wedges, and hatchets. We didn't have much metal, so we carved the tools from sharp rocks and wood. I helped break apart a large vein of stone nearby, cutting workable pieces with my chisel.

To my surprise, it didn't dull. It didn't even chip. Whatever power had marked me with that symbol — the hammer — must have also blessed the tool itself.

By the time night fell, we had a few crude tools and barely enough tents. No one expected homes in three hours, but it was progress.

We ate the last of the leftover birds and berries from our earlier hunts and collapsed into sleep.

The rain came hard overnight. We all woke up soaked, clothes sticking to our skin. No one had noticed the storm. We were too tired to care.

But now we had a reason — a mission — to get roofs over our heads.

We worked harder. We didn't have nails, so we used wooden pegs and carefully carved notches to lock logs together. Mud and clay from the lakeside were ferried over in the bowl Mira and I had made, used to seal cracks and gaps.

The builders spent days figuring out how to construct strong roofs. We picked a central tree to act as the main support beam — the purloin — and built rafters around it. When the frames were ready, we enlisted ten to fifteen fighters to lift and place the heavy roofs onto each house.

Doors were always built facing south to capture the sunlight. One window per house — on the east or west wall, to balance the light.

Twelve weeks passed.

We had houses.

The entire village came together — forty-two people, working with strange unity, guided by instinct and drive. It was like something, somewhere, wanted us to succeed.

We developed systems. Hunting parties left at every mealtime, always paired pathfinder and fighter. The meat was shared equally, but those with free time could trade — tools, furniture, handmade goods.

Someone dug a well in the village center, and to our amazement, it filled with clean drinking water. Whether luck or something else, we didn't question it.

But even with all we'd built, I had questions of my own.

What if the dragon came back?

What happened to those strange screens from the Obelisk?

What else is out there?

Still, there were reasons to hope. I was closer to the people here than I had been to anyone back on Earth. And more importantly…

I had taken on an apprentice.

Mira had practically begged me to teach her everything I knew. She had that same spark — the same need to create — and I knew that if this world was going to survive… we'd need builders like her.