One Moo'r Plow - Book 2: Chapter 5: Rumblings.

Farmer Doled’s eyes twitched between my face and the veritable offering that rested upon my upturned palms. His face remained impassionate -much as it could be when a stranger offered you a fortune- but his scent betrayed any emotion he attempted to hide. On the surface, he chewed over his thoughts, a man on the edge of accepting my offer. Underneath, the scents of uncertainty and adrenaline raced.

“This seems well and good enough.” The middle-aged human finally admitted. “A more than reasonable offer for my land, given everything that’s been happenin’ lately.”

“I am aware.” I nodded in quiet stoicism. He was not the first farmer to take my coin today, and heaven’s willing, he would not be the last. A modest farmstead and decently maintained land not too far from my own. We were both aware that what I offered was a decent, generous sum that was just a tad more than what the land was worth. House and animals included.

He wanted more.

“I could be persuaded to part with my hard-earned land. But tis’ a hard thing, for a man to give up what is his.” He glanced me up and down all the while, his scent reeking of uncertainty. “Lot’s of memories here. Lots of time. Might need some time to think it over.”

The decision was already made, I knew. Now came the part where he tried to get as much value from my generosity as possible. I could respect that, on some level. Yet that did not mean I was wholly willing to play along.

“Think quickly, then.” I rumbled back, fully straightened to loom over him. There was fright in his stench now, but such was not my intent. I was merely tired of having to hunch forward to better talk to the man.

“There are others who would be more than happy to take this coin. I have offered you the courtesy of time, and coin that more than equals the wealth of your land. Yet I am not deprived of other options. You are paid for the convenience, not the need.”

What I spoke was the truth. If he wanted to drive a harder bargain and attempt to wring more gold from me, there were options aplenty further down the mountain slopes. While further away, there was only so much I was willing to pay for sheer convenience. I had already purchased the land from several of this man’s neighbors that was closer to my own homestead, yet his would neatly round out this section.

The decision had been made to approach every landower here patiently, with pleasant greetings and chats of the weather before I inevitably sprung the offer to neatly purchase all their land from underneath them. There was a price of what the amassed acreage was worth, and there was a cost of what it would sell for. These people were, in general, a stubborn lot. Had to be, to make it both as a farmer and to live somewhere so far away from the rest of society.

Several had left me with offers to think it over and contact me once the decision was made. Those, I had respected, for even coin’s allure could not convince men and women to quickly part with homes they had sunken years of daily effort into.

Farmer Doled, however, had already made his decision. From what Ishila had told me of the neighbors, he was more than eager to be rid of this property and onto a new step in life. Now came the matter of how stubbornly he negotiated price. One could argue that I was stubborn in my refusal to go higher as well, yet I preferred to be thought of as firm.

He did relent, in the end. In the face of my polite refusal to go higher, the man chose to wiser option and simply took my coin. A legally binding deed was written up and the property transferred to my name. The man seemed almost entranced by the bag of coin that sat upon the table, his quill paused every so often as he stared.

“Surely a week will be enough for you to be moved elsewhere?” I rumbled as he handed me to dried deed. It would be within my legal rights to have him evicted within the day, but simply because I could undertake an action did not mean I would. What was legal was not, strictly, moral. And while I was not a paragon of moral virtue, I was still, in my own eyes, I decent man.

“A week?” He laughed, almost choked on derision. His hands snatched the bag off the table and stood, a crazed, manic smile upon his features. “An hour and nothing more!”

With that declaration, the squat man strode past, tipped his old, leathery hat to me and vanished out the door. Following him only revealed him hauling a saddle from his modest stable and throwing it atop the one horse here. I questioned how smart it was to leave without having packed food or his possessions, but a man’s choice was his own.

“Yer welcome to it all!” Came the laugh over his shoulder moments later as his steed began to trot away. “All the problems too! Maybe it’ll be a tad nicer to one of its own kind!”

Cawing laughter followed the man’s form, and my eyes traced upward to find a semi-familar form. Atop a tree sat the huge brown crow with straw in its wings. Its mocking laughter echoed as Doled disappeared down the dusty trail towards civilization, and I wondered if there was not more to this than met the eye.

Any questions more I could have asked were denied as the former farmer vanished down the trail, leaving me with a new property and a plethora of unanswered inquiries.

This marked the final piece I was wholly willing to buy down this stretch of land. The mountain’s slopes were almost unnoticeable here, so far down were we. The area was lush, surrounded by the forest that seemed the choke the Redtip’s base.

What I now owned was an escalating stretch of properties, interspersed by holdouts and those entirely unwilling. This road here was the main path down the highway, yet there were several more that I was interested in. Pack over my shoulder, I set off down the mountain and settled into a brisk stride. Plans were formulated as I moved along, attention only half-paid to the road ahead.

Now that these properties were mine, I would need to procure workers and begin easing them into responsibilities until they earned more of my trust. I had favored the idea of having other farmsteads operate semi-autonomously, but that had been decided against. Instead, I wanted every property to be focused towards a specific goal.

Several of them could be entirely focused on crop growth, with my accumulated wealth boosting Gold Is Power and spurring production on at all speed. Now would come to test to see if the skill would apply to all crops upon land that I owned. But first, I needed actual farmhands, and that seemed as though it would be a chore to find.

The obvious choice was the hire the farmers I had bought out, yet few had been willing to entertain the idea, and I had not pursued it overmuch. I did not blame them.

Once at the mountain’s very foot, I veered across the road towards Hullbretch and kept on for a time, then turned back towards the slopes on a much smaller, far less maintained path. Up I climbed on what could be accurately described as a fair-weather trail. Growth choked to either side here, and at times overtook the meager trail entirely.

Map unfurled and sweat caking my hide, I poured the remnants of my waterskin down my throat and wondered if this was a reasonable use of precious time. Ishila had promised it was, and the orc had yet to let me down.

Perseverance yielded reward, albeit much later. The trees ended abruptly and I emerged into what would best be described as a massive crater upon the land. Yet this was not a rocky, ruined wasteland. The earth here was lush and loamy, a massive reserve of soil and land.

All unclaimed, or so I was told. The crater itself was not overtly steep, I found as I paced along the edge. Simply large. Grass, weeds, and blooms overran its soil and tree roots poked from the edges. Large enough to fit the entirety of my home farm several times over. Others might look at this and see the mess of weeds, roots and boulders, but I chose to see opportunity.

Once more, I rolled out the map that Velton had drawn up for his daughter. If the elf’s geometry was correct, I was not physically far from my own home. Thick, choked forests lay between this destination and my land. With no path, the only option was to go down the mountainside to follow the trail over and up again, a multi-hour journey on the best of days.

In the rain or at night, I myself would be hard-pressed to make this journey. The forest presented a barrier for even the hardiest of humans. Massive trees swarmed by undergrowth, bushes, layers of ancient leaves and growths of every variety presented an impossibility that would render almost anyone lost within moments. Canopies above blotted out the sun and made direction meaningless.

And yet. I was a minotaur. There was an axe at hand. And I had a dream, a need for this place. If the forest would block my way, then the forest would be made to yield.

The afternoon’s sweltering heat had begun to cool come the time when I finished my examination of the land and turned to my task. I checked and doubled the map to ensure I was correctly lined up. Once satisfied, I hefted the enchanted axe and began to swing in powerful, measured strokes. Trees crashed down around me -occasionally onto my form- as I began to cleave a path of destruction through these woods.

If there was no path available, I would make my own. I returned to a simpler time, now. Cut, push and move on. My trail was marred with destruction as I clove the forest in twain, a path of shattered trees and trampled growth left behind me. I was thirsty long before the end was in sight. Yet I trusted the map and pushed on. My faith was put in Velton that this was indeed only a quarter-mile stretch of woods I needed to rip through. For now, I focused only upon the larger, much more obvious trees to hew down.

There were people on the road, I realized as the trees abruptly ended. The massive trunk next to me tethered and began to fall. A tired, agonizing moment later, I realized that instead of standing there and watching it, I could just grab and heave the damn thing in another direction.

There were yells of surprise as the tree reversed direction and collapsed back into the forest, its weight and trajectory tearing down others in its path. I did what any friendly person would do, then. Waved, hoisted my axe, and stood to admire my handiwork. A rough guess put me somewhere between my farm and Velton’s property. The road seemed familiar enough with its curve and upward climb. There was a path marked out now, however slim that was. Once I had other things under control, I would return and shape this into a proper road through sheer stubbornness.

That, however, was a task for another day. Now, I really could use several drinks of water. Perhaps something stronger, given the occasion.