Warbreaker's Rage: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure (The Connected System Book 3), page 30
She moved to the side, waving her hands.
“Please, take my space.”
Others nearby heard, all now turning and noticing him.
Loch was surprised it had taken so long, but he still wasn’t happy to be noticed. He’d tried for a low profile, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“No,” Loch said to the woman, motioning to the others in front of her who were in the act of moving out of the way. “I’m fine here. You were in line before me, you can keep your spot.”
The woman looked scared, glancing around, trying to decide if it was a trick or not.
“Please,” Loch said, motioning her back into line. “I insist.”
He had almost said ‘order’ but had stopped himself. He was the Chief, he could order her, as he knew she was part of the Clan. He didn’t know her name or if she had a Class, which he doubted, but he knew she had joined Clan Brady. It was a mental thing. Not a connection but just a feeling that she was part of the Clan.
Ordering her would have just felt wrong. Loch knew he could have cut the line with no one complaining. Which was an odd thing in America. How quickly things had changed post-apocalypse. But Loch didn’t want to throw his weight around, not to just get food quicker. Most of these people were probably hungrier than he was. They needed the food just as much as he did, maybe even more.
The woman still hadn’t moved and still looked nervous.
“Please?” Loch asked, pleading.
With a last look around at the others, she walked back to where she had been. The line hadn’t moved; everyone was watching him. Even some of those at the tables had stopped eating to watch him.
“Please,” Loch said, turning to look at everyone staring back at him. “Please, go back to eating.”
No one turned away; all still watched him.
Loch sighed.
He focused on the woman.
“What’s your name?”
“Addison,” she said, brushing a stray bit of hair out of her face. She didn’t look at him. “Addie.”
“Addie,” Loch said, nodding. “Are you from Northwood?”
“No, sir. I went to college at UNH. Lived in Hopkinton. I was on my way back to school when…” She stopped, wrapping her arms around herself.
Which meant she didn’t know if her family was alive or dead.
Loch felt bad for her, but it was a similar story to many others. She wasn’t alone.
“I was at the gas station up the street,” she continued. “The earthquake came and I blacked out. When I came to, the words were in my vision, my car was gone. So was everyone else that had been there. I don’t know why I didn’t panic; none of us did. After a while, one of the guys, a local, suggested we head for the town hall.”
The line moved forward a couple of places. Some attention was still on Loch and Addie, but most had turned back to their small meals and private conversations. They spoke quietly, still not loud enough to create the melded background noise.
“What were you studying at UNH?”
“Business,” she answered, perking up a little. “I have, had, I guess, a YouTube channel where I recorded videos and figured that having a business education could help me run it, and if that fell through, at least I’d be able to find a job pretty much anywhere.”
Loch nodded, not wanting to say anything. He knew that a living, a very good one, could be made from being a YouTuber, but it had never been anything he’d really thought much of. Both Harper and Piper had gone through phases where that was what they had wanted to do. Luckily, in his opinion, they had grown out of it.
Addie, at least, seemed to be smart about it. Getting a business degree would be beneficial, especially when it seemed most of those YouTubers weren’t good with money or came from money in the first place. It would help keep her from being taken advantage of.
“Yeah, I was really surprised that my guitar didn’t disappear with my car.”
“What?” Loch asked.
“My guitar. It had been in my car when I’d gone into the gas station. The car was gone, but my guitar was undamaged in its case. Just sitting there where the gas pumps used to be.” She smiled, the first good emotion Loch had seen from her, eyes lighting up as she talked. “I would have panicked if that was gone. I’d be lost without it. A couple people complained about me taking it as we hiked to the town hall. It was heavy and awkward, and I could have taken more food in a bag instead of the guitar, but I just couldn’t leave it behind. Especially where it seemed to have been left for me.”
Loch had to agree with her. In all other instances, except his own and now Addie’s, when a car had been taken by the Worldcore, that included everything inside. No matter what it was, nothing was left behind.
But Addie’s guitar had been left? That was odd.
The more he thought about it, that his car was left behind was just as odd. Was that because of his Unfettered trait? He pushed that thought aside to work out later. Might be something he’d have to talk to Little River Stone about.
But what Addie had said about her channel sparked the beginnings of an idea.
“Did you sing and play the guitar on your channel?” Loch asked.
“Yeah. I wasn’t super popular, but had a good number of subscribers. Even made a little money off ads.”
To Loch, it was pretty obvious why the Connection hadn’t taken Addie’s guitar.
She was meant to be a Bard. Or whatever equivalent the Connected System had.
“What Level are you?” Loch asked.
The light in her eyes wavered, replaced by nervousness.
The cheery attitude she’d started to show faded.
Loch cursed himself.
“Oh… uhm… One,” she stammered. “I haven’t done much fighting. I’m sorry. I can do more.”
He held up a hand, stopping her, smiling, trying to show that she’d taken the question wrong. It didn’t appear to be working.
“Do you love singing and playing?” he asked, trying to get her back to the better conversation.
“Yes, sir.” She was still nervous.
Loch smiled. He’d had visions of her becoming a Bard, a Support Class to dungeon-running groups. Singing buffs and debuffs. He’d have asked Cerie for more clarification on if there was such a thing, probably more than one variation, in the Connected System, but he felt safe there would be. Then he’d seen Addie’s reaction to the Level question.
It was obvious she didn’t want to fight.
And it wasn’t fair to make her.
There would be other Bards in the Clan. Eventually.
But even though she didn’t want to fight, she could still be useful.
Loch looked out over the crowd of people. Depression still hung heavy in the air.
Many bars had held open mike nights or had local musicians booked throughout the week. There had been so many people who could make some good extra cash just playing a couple of hours a week at the various restaurants and bars.
He and Kelly had gone a lot, just sitting there, listening to the music, enjoying each other’s company.
Live music changed the atmosphere of a place.
It made everyone feel better, changed their moods, and created a sense of camaraderie. Everyone enjoyed listening to music.
“How would you like to play again?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Loch, with Addie in front, walked through the open door into the serving room. It had been decades since he’d been in a school cafeteria. It’d been since his freshman year of college, a couple of times in sophomore year. After that, he’d eaten in the dorms or gone to one of the local restaurants.
Nothing had changed since his time. The design was the same.
Enter on one side, facing a stainless steel counter. A shelf to slide plastic trays down, the counter really just supports for the warming and cooling bins filled with food that got dished out by cafeteria workers. Then, exiting a door on the other end. Behind the counter was most of the kitchen cooking and prep areas. All stainless steel.
The only thing different was the lack of activity in the kitchen area. None of it was on.
Only two people stood behind the counter, and barely any of the bins were filled. One handed out food on a single plate, no need for a tray. The other handed out cups of water.
Small cups.
Loch kept his head down, not wanting the cook to recognize him. The man would insist on making a real meal, using up more of their meager supplies. Loch didn’t want that.
Instead, he took the plate, seeing Addie’s confused glance.
Walking out of the serving room, Loch followed Addie to a table.
Most of the cafeteria had cleared out. It was a small meal, not taking long to eat, and people had no reason to linger. Another thing Loch had noticed was that people were not branching out beyond their families or the groups they had traveled with. For a large community, it was anything but.
People were not being social.
Loch couldn’t blame them, but that was something else that needed to be changed.
They were concentrating on the immediate issue: survival. But surviving didn’t really mean much if they were all just going through the motions. They had to live. He hoped the music idea would help, but there had to be more they could do.
That wasn’t something he wanted to put on Ed’s shoulders.
Ed Turner was a good administrator, but the social aspects would be too much on top of the already huge burden and issues Ed had to deal with. Someone else would need to take on that role. Loch’s work had called it a “fun committee.”
He knew it wasn’t the most important thing to worry about, but these people needed something. They needed some kind of relief. Not just the ones out risking their lives every day, not just the ones working on becoming crafters, but especially those who were lost and didn’t know what to do with themselves.
People like Addie.
She sat down at a table, Loch sitting across from her. She was still nervous with his presence. He almost got up and left, taking the food back to his room, but instead stayed. Loch could feel the gazes of the other three at the table. They’d stopped eating, staring at him.
“Why did you take that?” Addie asked, pointing at the food on his plate.
The same food that was on hers.
A piece of bread, a granola bar, four pieces of Lynxia jerky, and a bag of chips, along with a small cup of water.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the Chief of the Clan. You could get anything you wanted.”
Loch could feel the interested eyes of the others at the table. She hadn’t spoken loudly enough to get attention beyond their one table.
“Because I don’t deserve more than anyone else,” he replied.
Addie looked like she was going to ask another question but stopped herself. She concentrated on her food. The other three had turned away, focusing on their food.
Loch wondered what answer they had expected.
As he ate, he studied the other three. All men, varying ages. He guessed late twenties for the one on his side. Black hair and beard, tall, well built. He wore jeans and a ripped and stained T-shirt. Across from Loch, on Addie’s side, was a man that Loch thought was in his late sixties with gray hair and an unkempt beard. They probably had been clean-shaven before the Connection. An inch or two shorter than Loch, thinner. He had the look of a businessman. The last was an Asian man. Forties, black hair. He wore khakis and a once-white button-up. Another businessman.
He looked up, feeling Loch’s gaze.
“Good afternoon,” Loch said.
The man quickly looked down at his food.
Loch frowned.
What kind of reputation did he have?
“Afternoon,” the older man said, glancing at the younger and back to Loch. “I’m Ben Border.”
“Nice to meet you. Not from Northwood, are you?”
“No. Portsmouth. Simu,” Ben said, nodding to the Asian man next to him. “We work for a bank out of Portsmouth and were meeting with clients. On our way home and stopped at that Mobil when the Connection hit.”
“Bankers?”
“Yeah. Was a good career. Not sure how it translates to life now,” Ben said, shrugging.
Simu just shook his head, picking at the remains of the food on his plate. He was one of the more depressed people that Loch had seen in the school. And there were a lot of depressed people.
“And I was getting pretty close to retiring,” Ben continued. “Was looking forward to traveling some. Now? I don’t know what to do with myself.”
He looked up at Loch, pointing a finger at the armor.
“I’m too old to be taking up fighting and don’t really have any skills that I think will translate. It’s not like a bank is needed now, is it?”
Which was true. Loch had earned some coins in the dungeons, but the majority of the people in the Clan and community were operating on the barter system, if that. Most were just being given things and doing some work for it.
Or no work at all.
Maybe someday there would be a need for a bank, but that wouldn’t be for a very long time.
More people would need to be raiding dungeons and earning coins, then those coins would be spent on products made by the crafters. The coins would go to the crafters, who would then spend them on products or materials, passing them around the community.
Only one other team had been through the Painted Caves Dungeon and they hadn’t fared that well. They’d survived, but barely. The loot had been good, but not enough to start passing out to others. It would be a couple of days before another group could try. Loch thought it was that one that Mike Turner had joined.
“Yeah, I don’t see the need for one anytime soon,” he said, not sure how else to respond.
He knew that Ben didn’t want to hear false hope. The man seemed just to want to let go of bottled-up feelings. He wasn’t ranting, just releasing.
Ben nodded, showing he appreciated it. Simu just grimaced.
“What do the rest of us do,” he said, not looking up. There was anger in his words. Cold, harsh, bitter. “If we can’t fight or craft, what will become of us?”
Loch didn’t have an answer because he didn’t know. Ben reached a hand out, patting Simu on the back, grasping his shoulder.
“Maybe it would have been better for us to disappear,” Simu muttered.
“Hey now,” Ben said. “Don’t be talking like that.” He looked back to Loch. “Sorry about that, but it’s been hard. We’ve been helping out with the labor on the wall and stuff, but that won’t last forever and it’s really only an hour or two since there are a lot of people needing to work and keep busy. And I get that we need to contribute to earn the food, but…” He trailed off, shrugging.
“I get it,” Loch said. “If things had been different, I might be the same. My old career doesn’t translate either.”
“Why were they different for you?” Simu asked, finally looking up at Loch. He didn’t appear angry. He didn’t even look curious. There was no emotion at all.
Loch shrugged.
“I don’t know,” was his answer, even though he knew what was different. His trait. But that wasn’t something to talk about with strangers, even if they were part of the Clan. “I got incredibly lucky.” Which he knew was true. The elf had been wounded, one blow able to kill him. And it had been a lucky blow that overbalanced the giant, making the monster fall into the crevice. “From the very first moment of the Connection, my family was under attack. I had to fight and just haven’t stopped.”
“Your daughters are fighting too,” Addie said. Loch glanced at her, expecting to see an accusation, but instead, she was curious.
“Not by choice,” Loch said, sighing. “It was the only way to survive.”
“That’s true of us all, isn’t it,” Ben said. “In some way, shape or form, we have to fight.”
“It’s the way of the Connection,” Simu muttered.
“Got that right,” Ben agreed.
Loch couldn’t argue.
Like Addie, the two men were directionless. Their pre-Connection skills didn’t translate and they hadn’t been put in a fight-or-die situation, not yet. They’d been living weeks as they were, surviving but just barely. Neither would become a crafter. At least Addie could do something with her music. The two men? What could they do?
Pick a profession? Someone who had prior knowledge would have an edge and Advance quicker, which would leave them still behind. Start fighting? Without motivation and a desire to fight and survive, it would be a good way to die. Unlike Loch, did they have anything to truly fight for? Their own survival and that was it. Would it be enough? Judging by the two men in front of him, Loch didn’t think so.
He hated it, but Loch couldn’t see a solution.
But things hadn’t really been that different in the pre-Connection world. People either contributed to the society or they fell through the cracks. Just in the pre-Connection world, there were more ways to contribute. The Connected System was limiting.
The conversation ended. Ben and Simu finished eating and said their goodbyes, or at least Ben did. Simu just muttered something. The two men left.
To do what, Loch didn’t know. He returned his attention to his food, feeling Addie’s eyes on him. He looked up.
“Are they right?”
“About?”
“That we can only fight?”
Loch started to shrug but stopped. What kind of an answer was she looking for? The truth? A lie to make her feel better? Something else?
He finally settled on what he wanted to be the truth.
“I hope not.”
“I like the idea,” Kristin said.
After eating, Loch had gone into the office, wanting to run his idea past her and Ed. The Clan Magister had been eating. Loch noticed that his portion was larger than what had been served in the cafeteria. Not by much, but still larger.
“The social aspects are just as important,” Ed agreed. “In some ways, they are more important.”
Kristin started flipping through a large notebook.
“We really didn’t ask for that kind of background when we did the census,” she admitted. “We concentrated on previous fighting or combat experience and training, as well as anything crafting and harvesting related. I didn’t even think about singing or even writing. Sorry.”
“Please, take my space.”
Others nearby heard, all now turning and noticing him.
Loch was surprised it had taken so long, but he still wasn’t happy to be noticed. He’d tried for a low profile, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“No,” Loch said to the woman, motioning to the others in front of her who were in the act of moving out of the way. “I’m fine here. You were in line before me, you can keep your spot.”
The woman looked scared, glancing around, trying to decide if it was a trick or not.
“Please,” Loch said, motioning her back into line. “I insist.”
He had almost said ‘order’ but had stopped himself. He was the Chief, he could order her, as he knew she was part of the Clan. He didn’t know her name or if she had a Class, which he doubted, but he knew she had joined Clan Brady. It was a mental thing. Not a connection but just a feeling that she was part of the Clan.
Ordering her would have just felt wrong. Loch knew he could have cut the line with no one complaining. Which was an odd thing in America. How quickly things had changed post-apocalypse. But Loch didn’t want to throw his weight around, not to just get food quicker. Most of these people were probably hungrier than he was. They needed the food just as much as he did, maybe even more.
The woman still hadn’t moved and still looked nervous.
“Please?” Loch asked, pleading.
With a last look around at the others, she walked back to where she had been. The line hadn’t moved; everyone was watching him. Even some of those at the tables had stopped eating to watch him.
“Please,” Loch said, turning to look at everyone staring back at him. “Please, go back to eating.”
No one turned away; all still watched him.
Loch sighed.
He focused on the woman.
“What’s your name?”
“Addison,” she said, brushing a stray bit of hair out of her face. She didn’t look at him. “Addie.”
“Addie,” Loch said, nodding. “Are you from Northwood?”
“No, sir. I went to college at UNH. Lived in Hopkinton. I was on my way back to school when…” She stopped, wrapping her arms around herself.
Which meant she didn’t know if her family was alive or dead.
Loch felt bad for her, but it was a similar story to many others. She wasn’t alone.
“I was at the gas station up the street,” she continued. “The earthquake came and I blacked out. When I came to, the words were in my vision, my car was gone. So was everyone else that had been there. I don’t know why I didn’t panic; none of us did. After a while, one of the guys, a local, suggested we head for the town hall.”
The line moved forward a couple of places. Some attention was still on Loch and Addie, but most had turned back to their small meals and private conversations. They spoke quietly, still not loud enough to create the melded background noise.
“What were you studying at UNH?”
“Business,” she answered, perking up a little. “I have, had, I guess, a YouTube channel where I recorded videos and figured that having a business education could help me run it, and if that fell through, at least I’d be able to find a job pretty much anywhere.”
Loch nodded, not wanting to say anything. He knew that a living, a very good one, could be made from being a YouTuber, but it had never been anything he’d really thought much of. Both Harper and Piper had gone through phases where that was what they had wanted to do. Luckily, in his opinion, they had grown out of it.
Addie, at least, seemed to be smart about it. Getting a business degree would be beneficial, especially when it seemed most of those YouTubers weren’t good with money or came from money in the first place. It would help keep her from being taken advantage of.
“Yeah, I was really surprised that my guitar didn’t disappear with my car.”
“What?” Loch asked.
“My guitar. It had been in my car when I’d gone into the gas station. The car was gone, but my guitar was undamaged in its case. Just sitting there where the gas pumps used to be.” She smiled, the first good emotion Loch had seen from her, eyes lighting up as she talked. “I would have panicked if that was gone. I’d be lost without it. A couple people complained about me taking it as we hiked to the town hall. It was heavy and awkward, and I could have taken more food in a bag instead of the guitar, but I just couldn’t leave it behind. Especially where it seemed to have been left for me.”
Loch had to agree with her. In all other instances, except his own and now Addie’s, when a car had been taken by the Worldcore, that included everything inside. No matter what it was, nothing was left behind.
But Addie’s guitar had been left? That was odd.
The more he thought about it, that his car was left behind was just as odd. Was that because of his Unfettered trait? He pushed that thought aside to work out later. Might be something he’d have to talk to Little River Stone about.
But what Addie had said about her channel sparked the beginnings of an idea.
“Did you sing and play the guitar on your channel?” Loch asked.
“Yeah. I wasn’t super popular, but had a good number of subscribers. Even made a little money off ads.”
To Loch, it was pretty obvious why the Connection hadn’t taken Addie’s guitar.
She was meant to be a Bard. Or whatever equivalent the Connected System had.
“What Level are you?” Loch asked.
The light in her eyes wavered, replaced by nervousness.
The cheery attitude she’d started to show faded.
Loch cursed himself.
“Oh… uhm… One,” she stammered. “I haven’t done much fighting. I’m sorry. I can do more.”
He held up a hand, stopping her, smiling, trying to show that she’d taken the question wrong. It didn’t appear to be working.
“Do you love singing and playing?” he asked, trying to get her back to the better conversation.
“Yes, sir.” She was still nervous.
Loch smiled. He’d had visions of her becoming a Bard, a Support Class to dungeon-running groups. Singing buffs and debuffs. He’d have asked Cerie for more clarification on if there was such a thing, probably more than one variation, in the Connected System, but he felt safe there would be. Then he’d seen Addie’s reaction to the Level question.
It was obvious she didn’t want to fight.
And it wasn’t fair to make her.
There would be other Bards in the Clan. Eventually.
But even though she didn’t want to fight, she could still be useful.
Loch looked out over the crowd of people. Depression still hung heavy in the air.
Many bars had held open mike nights or had local musicians booked throughout the week. There had been so many people who could make some good extra cash just playing a couple of hours a week at the various restaurants and bars.
He and Kelly had gone a lot, just sitting there, listening to the music, enjoying each other’s company.
Live music changed the atmosphere of a place.
It made everyone feel better, changed their moods, and created a sense of camaraderie. Everyone enjoyed listening to music.
“How would you like to play again?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Loch, with Addie in front, walked through the open door into the serving room. It had been decades since he’d been in a school cafeteria. It’d been since his freshman year of college, a couple of times in sophomore year. After that, he’d eaten in the dorms or gone to one of the local restaurants.
Nothing had changed since his time. The design was the same.
Enter on one side, facing a stainless steel counter. A shelf to slide plastic trays down, the counter really just supports for the warming and cooling bins filled with food that got dished out by cafeteria workers. Then, exiting a door on the other end. Behind the counter was most of the kitchen cooking and prep areas. All stainless steel.
The only thing different was the lack of activity in the kitchen area. None of it was on.
Only two people stood behind the counter, and barely any of the bins were filled. One handed out food on a single plate, no need for a tray. The other handed out cups of water.
Small cups.
Loch kept his head down, not wanting the cook to recognize him. The man would insist on making a real meal, using up more of their meager supplies. Loch didn’t want that.
Instead, he took the plate, seeing Addie’s confused glance.
Walking out of the serving room, Loch followed Addie to a table.
Most of the cafeteria had cleared out. It was a small meal, not taking long to eat, and people had no reason to linger. Another thing Loch had noticed was that people were not branching out beyond their families or the groups they had traveled with. For a large community, it was anything but.
People were not being social.
Loch couldn’t blame them, but that was something else that needed to be changed.
They were concentrating on the immediate issue: survival. But surviving didn’t really mean much if they were all just going through the motions. They had to live. He hoped the music idea would help, but there had to be more they could do.
That wasn’t something he wanted to put on Ed’s shoulders.
Ed Turner was a good administrator, but the social aspects would be too much on top of the already huge burden and issues Ed had to deal with. Someone else would need to take on that role. Loch’s work had called it a “fun committee.”
He knew it wasn’t the most important thing to worry about, but these people needed something. They needed some kind of relief. Not just the ones out risking their lives every day, not just the ones working on becoming crafters, but especially those who were lost and didn’t know what to do with themselves.
People like Addie.
She sat down at a table, Loch sitting across from her. She was still nervous with his presence. He almost got up and left, taking the food back to his room, but instead stayed. Loch could feel the gazes of the other three at the table. They’d stopped eating, staring at him.
“Why did you take that?” Addie asked, pointing at the food on his plate.
The same food that was on hers.
A piece of bread, a granola bar, four pieces of Lynxia jerky, and a bag of chips, along with a small cup of water.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the Chief of the Clan. You could get anything you wanted.”
Loch could feel the interested eyes of the others at the table. She hadn’t spoken loudly enough to get attention beyond their one table.
“Because I don’t deserve more than anyone else,” he replied.
Addie looked like she was going to ask another question but stopped herself. She concentrated on her food. The other three had turned away, focusing on their food.
Loch wondered what answer they had expected.
As he ate, he studied the other three. All men, varying ages. He guessed late twenties for the one on his side. Black hair and beard, tall, well built. He wore jeans and a ripped and stained T-shirt. Across from Loch, on Addie’s side, was a man that Loch thought was in his late sixties with gray hair and an unkempt beard. They probably had been clean-shaven before the Connection. An inch or two shorter than Loch, thinner. He had the look of a businessman. The last was an Asian man. Forties, black hair. He wore khakis and a once-white button-up. Another businessman.
He looked up, feeling Loch’s gaze.
“Good afternoon,” Loch said.
The man quickly looked down at his food.
Loch frowned.
What kind of reputation did he have?
“Afternoon,” the older man said, glancing at the younger and back to Loch. “I’m Ben Border.”
“Nice to meet you. Not from Northwood, are you?”
“No. Portsmouth. Simu,” Ben said, nodding to the Asian man next to him. “We work for a bank out of Portsmouth and were meeting with clients. On our way home and stopped at that Mobil when the Connection hit.”
“Bankers?”
“Yeah. Was a good career. Not sure how it translates to life now,” Ben said, shrugging.
Simu just shook his head, picking at the remains of the food on his plate. He was one of the more depressed people that Loch had seen in the school. And there were a lot of depressed people.
“And I was getting pretty close to retiring,” Ben continued. “Was looking forward to traveling some. Now? I don’t know what to do with myself.”
He looked up at Loch, pointing a finger at the armor.
“I’m too old to be taking up fighting and don’t really have any skills that I think will translate. It’s not like a bank is needed now, is it?”
Which was true. Loch had earned some coins in the dungeons, but the majority of the people in the Clan and community were operating on the barter system, if that. Most were just being given things and doing some work for it.
Or no work at all.
Maybe someday there would be a need for a bank, but that wouldn’t be for a very long time.
More people would need to be raiding dungeons and earning coins, then those coins would be spent on products made by the crafters. The coins would go to the crafters, who would then spend them on products or materials, passing them around the community.
Only one other team had been through the Painted Caves Dungeon and they hadn’t fared that well. They’d survived, but barely. The loot had been good, but not enough to start passing out to others. It would be a couple of days before another group could try. Loch thought it was that one that Mike Turner had joined.
“Yeah, I don’t see the need for one anytime soon,” he said, not sure how else to respond.
He knew that Ben didn’t want to hear false hope. The man seemed just to want to let go of bottled-up feelings. He wasn’t ranting, just releasing.
Ben nodded, showing he appreciated it. Simu just grimaced.
“What do the rest of us do,” he said, not looking up. There was anger in his words. Cold, harsh, bitter. “If we can’t fight or craft, what will become of us?”
Loch didn’t have an answer because he didn’t know. Ben reached a hand out, patting Simu on the back, grasping his shoulder.
“Maybe it would have been better for us to disappear,” Simu muttered.
“Hey now,” Ben said. “Don’t be talking like that.” He looked back to Loch. “Sorry about that, but it’s been hard. We’ve been helping out with the labor on the wall and stuff, but that won’t last forever and it’s really only an hour or two since there are a lot of people needing to work and keep busy. And I get that we need to contribute to earn the food, but…” He trailed off, shrugging.
“I get it,” Loch said. “If things had been different, I might be the same. My old career doesn’t translate either.”
“Why were they different for you?” Simu asked, finally looking up at Loch. He didn’t appear angry. He didn’t even look curious. There was no emotion at all.
Loch shrugged.
“I don’t know,” was his answer, even though he knew what was different. His trait. But that wasn’t something to talk about with strangers, even if they were part of the Clan. “I got incredibly lucky.” Which he knew was true. The elf had been wounded, one blow able to kill him. And it had been a lucky blow that overbalanced the giant, making the monster fall into the crevice. “From the very first moment of the Connection, my family was under attack. I had to fight and just haven’t stopped.”
“Your daughters are fighting too,” Addie said. Loch glanced at her, expecting to see an accusation, but instead, she was curious.
“Not by choice,” Loch said, sighing. “It was the only way to survive.”
“That’s true of us all, isn’t it,” Ben said. “In some way, shape or form, we have to fight.”
“It’s the way of the Connection,” Simu muttered.
“Got that right,” Ben agreed.
Loch couldn’t argue.
Like Addie, the two men were directionless. Their pre-Connection skills didn’t translate and they hadn’t been put in a fight-or-die situation, not yet. They’d been living weeks as they were, surviving but just barely. Neither would become a crafter. At least Addie could do something with her music. The two men? What could they do?
Pick a profession? Someone who had prior knowledge would have an edge and Advance quicker, which would leave them still behind. Start fighting? Without motivation and a desire to fight and survive, it would be a good way to die. Unlike Loch, did they have anything to truly fight for? Their own survival and that was it. Would it be enough? Judging by the two men in front of him, Loch didn’t think so.
He hated it, but Loch couldn’t see a solution.
But things hadn’t really been that different in the pre-Connection world. People either contributed to the society or they fell through the cracks. Just in the pre-Connection world, there were more ways to contribute. The Connected System was limiting.
The conversation ended. Ben and Simu finished eating and said their goodbyes, or at least Ben did. Simu just muttered something. The two men left.
To do what, Loch didn’t know. He returned his attention to his food, feeling Addie’s eyes on him. He looked up.
“Are they right?”
“About?”
“That we can only fight?”
Loch started to shrug but stopped. What kind of an answer was she looking for? The truth? A lie to make her feel better? Something else?
He finally settled on what he wanted to be the truth.
“I hope not.”
“I like the idea,” Kristin said.
After eating, Loch had gone into the office, wanting to run his idea past her and Ed. The Clan Magister had been eating. Loch noticed that his portion was larger than what had been served in the cafeteria. Not by much, but still larger.
“The social aspects are just as important,” Ed agreed. “In some ways, they are more important.”
Kristin started flipping through a large notebook.
“We really didn’t ask for that kind of background when we did the census,” she admitted. “We concentrated on previous fighting or combat experience and training, as well as anything crafting and harvesting related. I didn’t even think about singing or even writing. Sorry.”
