Chapter 4: Empty Stomachs and the Dark Forest

The campfire crackled, the only source of light and warmth in the sea of darkness. Loki stared at the flames, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His mind was on his empty stomach and the tired faces around him. He remembered Astrid's words. They needed food. His previous oversight had almost cost Einar his life because of a branch. He wouldn't let the next oversight cost all their lives due to starvation.

Waiting for dawn was no longer an option. It was a luxury. In this world, waiting meant death.

With a new, cold resolve, he rose from his solitary position and stepped back into the circle of light. Three anxious pairs of eyes looked at him. He didn't let his inner doubts show on his face.

"We can't wait," Loki said, his voice calm yet firm, cutting through the heavy silence. "We need food. We'll find out where to get it. Tonight."

A fragile spark of hope flickered in his villagers' eyes, but Loki knew the reality. Sending them into the dark, unfamiliar forest was tantamount to killing them. He had a better tool.

His mind refocused on the system interface. He opened the building menu, scrolled past the familiar icons for huts and the healer's hut, and stopped at a new icon.

{Scout's Camp. Cost: 15 Wood.}

The cost was low. They had more than enough. He pointed to an empty patch of ground at the edge of the camp, near the forest boundary. The outline of a small, efficient hut appeared there. "You," he said to the man who looked the fittest. "Build this. Quickly."

The man immediately rose and worked with the speed that had become their hallmark. Within minutes, a small hut serving as a lookout post was erected.

Once finished, Loki looked at the third man, the slenderest and quietest among them. "Your name?"

"Rolf, Jarl," the man replied softly.

"Rolf," Loki said, looking straight into his eyes. "Go inside that hut. You have a new task."

Rolf nodded without question and entered the Scout's Camp. When he emerged a moment later, there was a subtle but clear change. His shoulders seemed more relaxed, but his eyes were more alert. The way he stood and moved now had the quiet efficiency of a hunter. He had become a Scout.

"Scout our surroundings," Loki commanded, his voice low so it wouldn't carry deep into the forest. "Don't go too far. Look for water sources, animal tracks, anything we can eat. And also look for signs of danger. Come back as fast as you can."

Rolf simply nodded once more. He turned and, silently, merged into the dense darkness between the trees. He vanished.

Time seemed to crawl after Rolf's departure. Loki and the two remaining villagers sat in tense silence near the fire. Every distant twig snap made them jump. Every rustle of wind sounded like a threat. Loki felt a cold doubt in his heart. He had just gambled one of the few lives he had on a faint hope.

An hour felt like an entire night. Just as Loki began to think he had made a fatal mistake, a figure emerged from the darkness, as silently as he had left. Rolf had returned.

Rolf stopped in front of Loki, his face calm and unreadable under the flickering firelight. He didn't appear tired or scared. He was simply a professional delivering his report.

"East direction," he said softly. "Half an hour's walk from here, there's a river. The current isn't strong. I saw flashes of fish scales near the surface."

An immense wave of relief washed over Loki. Food. Clean water. Hope.

"North direction," Rolf continued, his tone still flat, "I found tracks. Large footprints, with deep claw marks in the ground. Perhaps a bear. I didn't approach. To the west, only steep cliffs. A dead end."

The information flowed into Loki's mind, forming a first map of their world. A life-giving river on one side, and the potential for deadly danger on the other. They were no longer blind.

His stomach still ached with hunger, but now that ache was accompanied by a clear purpose. He looked at his two other villagers, who had listened to the report with bated breath. He gave them a small, reassuring nod.

"Tomorrow morning," Loki said, his voice filled with new conviction. "We go to the river."

The pale, gray light of dawn crept in through the gaps in the Healer's Hut walls. Loki hadn't slept all night. He had simply sat near the fire, his mind filled with plans and grim possibilities. When the first light appeared, he immediately rose.

His first stop was Einar's hut. He pushed the rough wooden door open gently. Inside, Astrid was also awake. She sat on the floor beside the cot, looking utterly exhausted, but her eyes remained alert. She was changing the wet cloth on Einar's forehead.

"How is he?" Loki whispered.

Astrid turned, dark circles under her eyes indicating she hadn't slept either. "His fever rose a little towards dawn," she replied softly. "But his breathing is stable. He's strong. But he needs food to fight this fever."

That statement solidified Loki's resolve. He nodded once at Astrid, then went out to face the new day. He woke the three other villagers who were huddled near the remains of the campfire. They rose with stiff movements, their faces gaunt and their eyes showing deep hunger, but also a glimmer of hope born from the previous night's plan.

Once everyone was awake, Loki gathered his small group. He looked at Einar lying in the hut, then at the faces of his remaining people. He couldn't risk bringing everyone.

"Astrid," he said, his tone firm and clear. "You stay here. Watch over Einar and keep the fire going." He picked up one of the stone axes lying near the woodpile and offered it to Astrid. "This is for you. If anything happens, scream as loud as you can."

Astrid accepted the axe without hesitation, its weight feeling reassuring in her hand. She nodded.

Loki then turned to the other three. "Rolf, you lead the way. You two," he pointed to the remaining man and woman, "bring all the rope we have. We'll need it to carry our catch."

They began their journey eastward as the sun climbed higher. The forest felt different in the morning. The air felt more alive, but also more menacing. Rolf moved with admirable stealth, his eyes constantly scanning the ground and the surrounding trees. Loki and the other two followed behind, each step heavy with vigilance, every rustle of leaves making them pause, reminded of the report about bear tracks.

After almost half an hour of tense walking, a new sound began to emerge. The soft, calming gurgle of water. Rolf stopped and gestured. Ahead of them, through the gaps in the trees, sunlight reflected off a moving surface.

They arrived at the riverbank.

The sight made Loki's breath catch for a moment. The river wasn't very big, perhaps ten paces wide, its water clear and flowing calmly over smooth stones. It was the most beautiful sight of life he had ever seen. In the clear water, they could see small silver shadows darting back and forth. Fish.

Their hope surged, but was quickly replaced by reality. The man with them tried to jump into the water to catch a fish with his hands, but his movements only made the fish dart away. They had no tools.

Loki had anticipated this. He remained calm, opening his system interface. He found the icon he was looking for.

{Fisherman's Hut. Cost: 25 Wood.}

They hadn't brought wood. But that wasn't a problem. "Rolf, keep watch," Loki ordered. "You," he pointed to the soaking wet man, "chop down the small trees around here. We need wood."

In a short time, with the same efficiency, they had enough wood. Loki pointed to a flat spot by the river, and the blueprint of a small dock with a hut on it appeared. Construction began.

The Fisherman's Hut was built faster than it should have been possible. A simple wooden dock jutted out a few steps into the river. Loki turned to the only woman in their expedition party. "You," he said. "Go into the hut. Your task now is to catch fish."

The woman, whose name was Lyra, nodded and entered the hut. As she was assigned the role of a Fisher, new knowledge flowed into her. She emerged from the hut with a clear purpose. She no longer saw the river as flowing water. She saw it as an ecosystem. She could see where the current was slower, where fish were most likely to hide.

She didn't get modern nets. Instead, she knew how to make them. She skillfully began to strip bark and weave vines into a crude net. She also took a long, straight branch, broke it, and sharpened its tip with a sharp stone, creating a primitive yet effective fishing spear.

Standing at the end of the dock, she waited patiently. When a sufficiently large fish passed beneath her, she thrust her spear with a single, swift motion. The spear lodged. She pulled it up, and a silver fish flapped at its end.

Quiet cheers erupted from the other man and Rolf. They had succeeded.

Lyra worked quickly after that, using her knowledge to catch several more fish. Once they felt they had enough, they tied the fish together with a vine rope.

The journey back to camp felt much lighter. The burden on Loki's shoulders felt reduced. He looked at their catch. This wasn't just food. It was a victory. The first real victory for his small clan. For today, at least, they had won.