Axiom: A Divine Dungeon Series (Artorian's Archives Book 1) by Dennis Vanderkerken & Dakota Krout

Author:Dennis Vanderkerken & Dakota Krout [Vanderkerken, Dennis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mountaindale Press
Published: 2019-11-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

After the expedition team had left, life in the cloister fell into a very predictable daily routine. The clerics who remained behind, while devout in their faith, settled into a more family-oriented pattern. Prayer was still daily, chants were recited and taught, but the work focus shifted over to food production and long-term stability. With so few present, the available workforce was limited to mostly Jin, Tibbins, and Tarrean.

Irene made everything operate smoothly, though Yvessa filled in when she wasn’t tending to Switch and Artorian. Switch was still unable to speak or interact with the world around her, but Artorian was doing well under their tender ministrations. The apiary had been re-established, the apple grove was healthy, but the salt flats had been abandoned in favor of small fields that grew basic crops.

Cultivators were vastly more capable than an ordinary person, and progress requiring physical labor was incredibly easy for them. On certain days, they even had time to harvest some salt from the flats; though they all had to be careful to lock down their passive cultivation. They couldn’t afford to take any Essence from the Scar, even if it might be tempting to tap into that huge resource.

The new trader, Olgier the Northman, came once a month with additional meal options that were bartered for with salt. Luckily for Tarrean, their bedridden, old fox knew all of the values and weights for proper and fair bartering. The trader—to his teeth-gnashing displeasure—was unable to swindle or get overly favorable transactions. Still, he was there every month without fail.

As an additional bonus, when the huge, red-haired Olgier swung by, he was usually given a few parcels to deliver. One mail parcel always went to a Head Cleric in the Choir. While another was sent far, far forwards to some Academy in the mountains. Olgier didn’t particularly like to play mailman, but an extra bag of salt went a long way toward making him forgive the hassle. Rutsel—his town of origin—was well-known for its hunting grounds, and salt was needed for preservation.

To Artorian, the quiet days where he merely laid down and basked in sunlight were quite busy, though not that many people knew it. His Lazuli robe hung neatly on his old bow, having remained there after Artorian noticed he got better results when more of him was… exposed. He wore some warm, winter pants and kept his pillows snug all about him to retain warmth. As a minor bonus, the pillow wall blocked just the tiniest bit of extra wind. For the majority of the day, sunlight poured through the open window and washed over the old man.

The earliest part of the day, where the sun just wasn’t quite in the right place to stream through the opening, was an excellent time to wrestle his way out of bed. He would mosey over to the stream to wash himself and take care of necessities. Artorian adamantly refused to let Yvessa bathe him, even if his clumsy stumbling meant that there were times he desperately needed her help to actually arrive at the stream.

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