Day 2
As the sun descends from the horizon, Ravian awakens within his makeshift tent. Emerging into the cool dusk, he surveys the transformed landscape, his golden eyes taking in the neatly arranged resources.
"Impressive work," he murmurs, satisfaction in his voice as he observes the results of a day's work. Thirty-five thousand trees had been felled, their trunks now stacked in orderly rows of cylindrical and rectangular beams. The clearing, spanning a 900-meter radius, marks the beginning of his grand design, bearing the mark of his ambition.
Most of the beams were kept large, ready to be cleaved and modified by the swarms into various parts as needed. Alongside the wood, large mounds of limestone and limestone dust were neatly arranged, accompanied by piles of ash, red powder, and clay harvested from the nearby river and wetlands. A particular type of rock, suitable for making cement and found within the mountain ridge, was also gathered. The swarms, ever diligent, had organized everything with precision, their telepathic connection allows them to report their progress, and he nods in approval.
Through a telepathic vision, Ravian's mind's eye was drawn to two newly formed quarries, one horizontal and one vertical, both delving into the mountain's embrace. The numbers and data, presented in red futuristic designs, were a familiar sight, a psychic display he hadn't seen since arriving in this new world.
[ Mining ] - 229.63 cubic meters / s
[ Fraction ]
• 0.4% Iron - 5,099 kg / s
• 0.2% Copper - 2,549 kg / s
• 0.15% Zinc - 1,912 kg / s
• 0.05% Tin - 637 kg / s
• 0.00001% Silver - 0.127 kg / s
"A fine rate," he comments, a smile playing on his lips. The large volume of metals extracted earns Ravian's approval. These ores give him the ability to make alloys and that means tools and furnitures later on.
He envisioned the metal framework of the castle, steel beams, and wireframes acting as the skeleton of his grand design. It was perhaps the most technologically advanced structure in this world, a castle that would easily outclass any other primitive fortress in this world. He considers the blend of medieval craftsmanship and magical enhancements that may exist, but he quickly concludes even so this castle would likely still be more impressive.
The swarms continued their work, their tireless efforts shaping the land and gathering the materials needed for the next phase of construction. Ravian's golden eyes glowed with pride and anticipation, the clearing alive with activity, each creature moving with purpose. The night was still young, and there was much to be done, but the foundation was laid, the path clear.
As the first stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Ravian's thoughts turned to the future, to the castle that awaited. His hands moved with an artist's grace, his mind filled with plans and calculations, every detail meticulously considered. The scent of freshly turned soil and the cool night air filled his senses, grounding him in the present even as his imagination soared about the future results.
Ravian's golden eyes narrow in concentration as he crafts more sets of swarms using his intricate magic. His hands move with practiced grace, weaving the spells that bring the creatures to life. "These kilns will need to be large and efficient," he muses aloud, envisioning the structures that will produce lime, glass, and other furnace-related products. The swarms respond to his command, setting to work on the large dirt kilns, their movements precise and coordinated.
Turning his attention to the challenge of separating metals from the ores, Ravian contemplates the construction of a special clay furnace. "A floor punctured with tiny holes," he explains to himself, his voice thoughtful, "only liquid could pass through, allowing the separation of substances by melting." He nods, satisfied with the idea, knowing it's not perfect but will solve most of the issues with extracting the metals he needs. The swarms begin to shape the furnace, guided by his vision.
Wulfric's presence catches Ravian's attention, the lesser god's curiosity piqued by the organisms Ravian created. "What do you make of them, Wulfric?" Ravian asks, observing as Wulfric bites off a piece of flesh, his vine-like tentacles studying it magically. "Fascinating, Master Ravian," Wulfric replies, his voice tinged with excitement, "These creatures are unlike anything I've seen."
Ravian watches Wulfric's reaction, noting the sinister elation in his eyes. "You seem quite taken with them," he remarks, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Wulfric looks up, his eyes wide, "May I participate in creating more of these new creatures, Master?" he asks, his voice filled with enthusiasm. Ravian considers the request, his mind weighing Wulfric's motives and loyalty.
He sees Wulfric's desire to create new forest creatures and understands that his loyalty is unwavering. After all, he is essentially a mutant as well thanks to his magic. But he can't help but worry about the 'War Crimes' effect as his father called it. They may all be loyal, but that hardly changes their… dispositions.
"You may assist me," Ravian finally says, his voice firm, "but only if you provide tribute in the form of metals or creatures to help construct the castle." Considering his stature as a god, a nature god too, this should not result in any unintended consequences. That is, unless he underestimated Wulfric's destructiveness.
Wulfric's eyes light up, and he bows, "I will not fail you, Master." Ravian nods, satisfied with the arrangement. For now at least.
Wulfric's eyes sparkle with excitement as he nods vigorously, "I will find the tribute you seek, Master Ravian!" With those words, he vanishes, zooming across the terrain immaterially in search of metal.
Ravian watches him go, a sheepish expression on his face. "I hope this doesn't spiral into some catastrophe," he mutters to himself, recalling a similar incident with his father and his father's servant. He shakes his head, his father's eye twitching in his memory. Now that he recalled, he chuckled at how often his father twitched his eyes, however grave the situation was at the time.
The night wears on, and Ravian oversees the construction and extraction of resources by the swarms. He moves among them, his golden eyes taking in every detail, his mind focused on the task at hand. Suddenly, he pauses, a realization dawning on him. "I haven't felt a craving for blood until now," he says to himself, his voice tinged with guilt. He remembers biting Valerie and wonders if that's the reason.
The first kilns come to life, their fires glowing in the darkness, the scent of lime filling the air. Ravian watches with satisfaction as the production begins, his mind already on the next phase of construction. "Excellent," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride, "Everything is proceeding as planned."
As the first light of dawn approaches, Ravian's body begins to feel the pull of sleep. He glances at the sky, the stars fading as the day approaches. "Time to rest," he says to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful. He returns to his makeshift tent, the magical creation providing shelter from the coming sunlight.
Inside the tent, Ravian settles down, his body at ease, his mind still filled with the night's accomplishments. It's a start.
Day 3
Ravian awakens at dusk, his golden eyes taking in the large amounts of lime ready for use. He steps out of his tent, surveying the progress, the clay furnaces for metals still under construction. "Good progress," he murmurs to himself, his voice filled with satisfaction. He glances around, noticing Wulfric's absence, "I wonder where Wulfric has gone."
Ravian moves to the entrance of the underground tunnels, his golden eyes widening at the sight of the extensive labyrinth that has been dug for future rooms. The tunnels stretch out before him, a maze of passages and chambers, all meticulously carved and shaped. "No hostile creatures or natural caves," he says to the swarms, his voice tinged with relief, his eyes reflecting the satisfaction of a job well done. The swarms buzz in response, their work continuing without interruption, their movements a symphony of precision and efficiency.
He reaches out and touches the dirt and rock of the tunnel's walls, feeling the texture beneath his fingertips. The walls are cleanly dug, the surfaces smooth and even, the craftsmanship evident in every detail. He can feel the coolness of the earth, the solidity of the rock, the very essence of the land itself. His senses come alive, the scent of freshly turned soil filling his nostrils, the sound of the swarms' work echoing in the distance.
Ravian explores the tunnels for a short time, his vampiric night vision giving him a full view of the underground world. He walks through the passages, his footsteps echoing softly, his eyes taking in every nuance and feature. He descends down staircases of carved rock, the steps worn smooth by the swarms' tireless efforts. The air is cool and damp, the silence profound, the darkness a cloak that wraps around him until he makes his way out from the tunnels, satisfied with its progress.
Ravian stands at the edge of the clearing, his golden eyes fixed on the landscape as he contemplates the elevation of the castle. "The core area must be the most elevated," he explains to the swarms, his voice firm and authoritative. His hands move with grace, gesturing to the land, his mind filled with visions of fortifications and defenses.
"An elevated position provides a clear line of sight, allowing defenders to spot approaching enemies from a distance," he continues, his voice filled with the wisdom of a seasoned strategist. A mental picture illustrates the meaning of this, as an elevated wall's defenders could see farther distances and so a better view of the encroaching enemies.
He commands the swarms to begin moving dirt, his movements precise and controlled, his eyes never leaving the land. "It also gives archers and artillery a height advantage, increasing their range and effectiveness," he adds, his voice filled with conviction. The swarms respond, their bodies a blur of motion as they set to work, the sound of earth being moved filling the air. Ravian watches, his mind already planning the next phase, his body filled with a sense of purpose and determination.
"And most importantly," he concludes, his voice tinged with a hint of pride, "it forces attackers to fight uphill, exhausting them and reducing their ability to coordinate and maneuver."
As the night wears on, the effect of his magic warping the land becomes more noticeable. Thorny bushes and shriveled vines begin to appear, a sign of his magic's influence. "It's safe here," he says to himself, his voice filled with determination, "I don't need to worry about the warping." He watches the construction, his mind filled with plans and visions.
The work continues, the swarms moving tirelessly, the castle taking shape. Ravian oversees the progress, his golden eyes glowing with anticipation. "We are on track," he says to himself, his voice filled with pride, "Everything is proceeding as planned." The night is alive with activity, the sound of construction filling the air.
As daytime approaches, Ravian feels the pull of sleep once again. He glances at the sky, the first light of dawn beginning to appear. "Time to rest," he says to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful. He returns to his tent, the magical creation providing shelter once again.
Inside the tent, Ravian settles down, his body at ease, his mind still filled with the night's accomplishments. "Tomorrow, we continue," he whispers, his voice filled with determination. The tent is quiet, the sounds of the night fading as Ravian drifts into sleep.
The clearing is still, the swarms continuing their work, the kilns glowing with life. The scent of earth and magic lingers in the air, a constant reminder of Ravian's power and vision. The night gives way to the day.