Calamity Awakens

The narrow tunnel spat them out into the forest floor with a burst of cold breath and half-melted snow trailing behind. Sunlight hit them for the first time in an hour—filtered through dense pine branches, but still warm by comparison. The trees stood tall and silent, casting long shadows across a thick carpet of moss, old needles, and frost-patched underbrush.

The cave entrance was behind a curtain of brush, concealed enough that someone passing nearby might never spot it.

"This place is... hidden," Kelan muttered, sweeping a slow gaze around the clearing. "Like the mountain grew around it."

"We'll worry about how lucky that is later," Harold said. "We dry off, warm up, and get to the plateau. I don't want that recruitment stone unplaced when night hits. We're still on a timeline"

They stripped off soaked gear and got a fire going fast—Kelan working the flint while Harold arranged torches into a makeshift teepee for kindling. Hal stood guard at the treeline, fur soaked but alert, nose twitching at every shift in wind.

The fire roared to life in minutes, smoke curling up into the branches. Steam hissed from their clothes, and the warmth bled back into their limbs with painful pricks of feeling.

Harold clenched and unclenched his fingers over the fire, his expression tight with focus. "We don't get to rest. Not yet."

Kelan grunted, slinging a half-dry cloak over one shoulder. "Good. I hate resting." He said dryly.

Ten minutes later, they were moving again.

The forest path sloped gently upward, the trees thinning just enough to let streaks of sun bleed through. Hal took point, weaving between trunks and over logs like he'd walked this route before.

The trees finally parted at the top of a short ridge—and there it was.

The plateau.

A wide, open clearing nestled against the curve of the valley wall. Flat, elevated and defensible. Surrounded on three sides by steep inclines and natural stone outcroppings. Sunlight streamed across the space, and the mountain walls loomed high above, catching the light like frozen waves of stone.

Kelan came to a stop beside Harold. "This'll do."

"It has to." Harold unlatched the pack and pulled free the Recruitment Stone. The stone pulsed softly in his hands, humming with distant energy. Not warm—but not dead, either. It felt like it wanted to be placed.

Harold knelt and dug a shallow hole in the center of the clearing with his hands. "We place it, we anchor this spot and no turning back after this."

"Was there ever?" Kelan asked dryly.

Harold didn't answer. He pressed the stone into the soil then tried to funnel mana into it with his will.

Nothing happened, Harold stood up frustrated. I still don't know how to manipulate my mana. Kelan can you activate this portal?

Kelan stepped forward, brushing dirt from his hands. "Let's see if this stone likes me better."

He crouched beside the embedded crystal and placed both palms over it. A faint rumble sounded as stone and mana met—then the glyphs appeared, bright even in daylight. Faint lines of red and silver spiderwebbed out from the Recruitment Stone into the soil, anchoring it like roots.

The air shimmered. A low hum resonated in Harold's chest.

Harold immediately approached and activated the panel but was denied access.

Harold sighed in frustration…"Kelan….access please.."

Kelan raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. He stepped back up beside the stone and laid his hand on the crystal again. The glyphs pulsed once more—this time slower, more rhythmic. The interface flared to life in front of Harold.

"Right, try again. I'm gonna start cutting trees," Kelan said simply, already turning toward the treeline and flexing his fingers.

"Thanks, Kelan. Let's see if I can pull her here."

Harold opened the recruitment panel. The screen flared to life, and in an instant, he was staring at a swirling archive of endless entries—millions, by the look of it.

Names, faces, factions. Individuals, bonded duos, full adventuring parties, even entire mercenary companies—each with their own contracts, costs, and conditions. Some wanted gold. Others wanted knowledge, artifacts, favors, land, or passage to worlds Harold had never heard of.

The sheer scope of it was dizzying. The system held the history of a thousand worlds, and all of them seemed to offer someone… for a price.

He snapped out of it.

Focus.

He tapped the filter settings and narrowed the criteria.

Tier 1 – 50

Class: Healer, Support

Keywords: "All Things End"

The panel flickered as it refreshed.

One listing remained.

[Recruitment Listing: Lira Ven]

Name:

Lira Ven

Race:

Human

Level:

53

Class:

Initiate Healer

(Tier 1)

Cultivation Rank:

Initiate

Dao Affinity:

Life, Death

Available for contract

: Yes

Description: All Things End

Subject held in the staging area, must meet with Subject for contract details.

Her listing had almost no details and required the person looking to contract her to meet with her before recruiting her.

"She found a way to be locked behind a conversation," Harold muttered. "She was smart to find a way to do that, she had to have pissed off the Nobles that were out to get her by doing that."

Harold confirmed wanting to talk to Lira and had to wait for Lira to confirm it.

It only took about 5 seconds for the confirmation to happen and he was suddenly in a very blank room similar to his own staging area. He felt very weak and he almost collapsed to the ground.

"The cost to move you here is your Mana" Lira said quietly.

Harold steadied himself, bracing one hand on his knee as the last of his mana drained from his core like a pulled thread. His vision dimmed briefly at the edges, like the world was too heavy to hold without it.

Lira stood in the center of the blank room, arms crossed loosely, expression unreadable. She was still dressed in the bloodstained remnants of the clothes she'd worn during the Calamity—patched, practical, but singed at the edges. Her hair was pulled back now, tighter, controlled. She looked... focused. Sharper than before. There was a quiet strength in her posture, like she'd made her peace with something.

"You look better," Harold managed, voice hoarse. "Less desperate."

"I'm not sure that's true," she said.

He smiled faintly. "How's the Boon."

Her expression flickered, and for a moment, something warm showed beneath the surface. "You picked well. It saved lives."

"I figured it would."

Silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable. Just heavy. Like they both remembered too well how it ended.

Harold straightened with effort. "Your recruitment listing's up."

"I saw." She didn't move.

"Locking the terms of a contract behind a conversation is smart," he said, nodding.

"Not smart," she corrected gently. "Desperate. The Nobles have eyes in the listing queue. The moment I showed up, someone tried to contract me for permanent service." Her fingers tightened. "I refused. It gave me time to wait for you but I was gonna make first contact with good terms on a different planet if one came."

"You trust me?" Harold asked.

"No." Her voice was quiet, not cruel. "But I remember what you said. And I remember how you looked when I killed you." Lira said, smirking.

Another silence.

"Why did you come back for me?" she asked.

Harold didn't answer right away. Then: "Because you're strong. And because we're building something real, we need a healer in the group. And I'd rather have you shaping it than someone who would do it for coin. My class is a bit unique, you might have seen it on Kelan and Hal. The young Frost wolf."

"Yes, the wolf that savaged Dev." She said angrily.

Yes, him. But I can Brand willing people. The Brand is special, it's not like a Slave Brand but its guides you through your Dao and to enlightenment. Guides you to classes you have Affinity for, Makes the road less bumpy and binds us together in purpose. There are other class perks but those are the big things for you. I'd like to offer you one when I get more Brands available. Harold explained in a rush.

"I am sorry about Dev? but you did earn a Calamity and it had to be real. Real consequences and all, and I still went too easy on you. That's why you only earned a minor boon instead of a real one.

She studied him a moment longer, then finally stepped forward.

"What's the contract?"

"Help us survive," Harold said. "The world we are in is brutal, we have almost died multiple times but we are in the same place and need people to help us make a community. Train with us. Heal who you can. And when the time comes—help shape something better. No chains. No hidden costs. I'll even let you draft the damn terms yourself."

Lira tilted her head, eyes narrowed. "And if I say no?"

"Then you walk," he said. "System lets you refuse. I checked."

A long pause.

Then—softly, but firmly—she nodded.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I'll join," Lira said. "But I'm not some camp follower, Harold. I expect to make decisions. And I won't be used. Also, I come with 7 children. They would have been used as hostages to pressure me, I wouldn't let them use children like that.

Harold grinned, despite the hollow ache where his mana should've been. "Good, We'll be tight on food for awhile but we can make it work."

The system shimmered between them. A new notification pulsed.

[Contract Offered.]
[Lira Ven-Cost:1 Silver]

The room faded like smoke on the wind.

The air shimmered as Harold returned from the recruitment interface, his mana still an empty well inside him. The recruitment stone pulsed brighter for a moment—and then Lira stepped through.

The wind caught her cloak immediately, billowing it behind her like wings. Her boots sank an inch into fresh snow. Behind her came seven children, eyes wide and bundled in scavenged layers, clutching each other as they crossed the portal's threshold.

A wave of heat rolled across the plateau from the massive fire Kelan had stoked. It crackled high, ringed with stones, logs around it forming a rough circle. The valley around them was still—snow-draped pines cloaked the mountainside, and sunlight glittered through the high peaks like the world had paused to admire its own reflection.

"Oh, it's cold," Lira gasped, wrapping her cloak tighter. She turned in place slowly, eyes wide despite the chill. "But it's… beautiful."

Harold offered a small, proud smile. "We thought so too."

The oldest child nudged closer to her, and she placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder. "We've lived through worse."

Hal padded forward slowly, cautious but curious, steam rising from his fur as he approached the new arrivals. One of the younger kids hid behind Lira's legs until the frost wolf snorted and sat down, tail sweeping snow.

Kelan stepped out of the treeline, arms loaded with thick branches. "Looks like the contract went through."

Lira gave him a guarded nod. "You're Kelan?"

"That's me," he said, setting the wood near the fire and starting to stack it. "And that's your spot to warm up. We'll work out shelter next."

She nodded, still taking it all in. The valley stretched on around them—five miles across, ringed with mountains so steep they cut the sky in half. Forested and secluded, it was a place no one stumbled into. It had to be found. Claimed.

Harold walked up beside her, passing over a warm piece of wrapped smoked meat. "It's not much, but it's what we've got."

Lira took it gratefully and exhaled hard, her breath misting. "So what now?"

"Now?" Harold said, glancing around the clearing. The firelight danced in his eyes. "Now we build."

I'm gonna go through the recruitment portal, I'm looking to hire some lumberjacks and general laborers. Maybe some guards to help hunt, so far I believe there to be no danger in this valley but right outside it, hidden by a massive waterfall is a huge Tier 4 Frost bear among other dangers. We need to stabilize ourselves here before we go back out there. We have not secured a food source. We have been scavenging food when I get called to bring a Calamity. I have to do at least one a day but for now the focus is building this place up.

Lira nodded once with a firm expression on her face. "Well… give me an axe and tell me where I can help."

Harold grinned, the tension easing just a little. "That's the spirit."

He turned toward the fresh arrivals. The children stood at attention—some curious, some wary, all bundled against the cold and sizing up the snow-draped valley around them.

"Kelan!" Harold called, raising his voice to carry. "Sort this group out, please. I'm gonna keep recruiting. Shelter first, then we'll work down the priority list."

Harold knelt near the edge of the firelight, pulling the damp satchels free from his pack. The scent of scorched leather and soot still clung to some of them—spoils from the battlefield, looted from fallen enemies and supply wagons alike.

He counted the coins by the firelight, fingers still stiff from cold but precise:
1 Gold. 83 Silver. And a handful of Copper.
Enough for a small workforce… I think.

"Still more left back on the sled," he muttered, glancing toward the narrow pass they'd come through. "But this'll have to do for now."

He stood, stepping toward the glowing panel embedded in the Recruitment Stone. His fingers flicked through the interface with growing familiarity.

[Recruitment Portal Active.]
[Filter Parameters:]

Available now

Contract price under 1 Gold

Trades: Lumberwork, Construction, Hunting, Guard Duty, General

Willing to relocate: Extreme climates

Harold tightened the parameters further. This wasn't about numbers—it was about utility. People who could stabilize the valley, reinforce their shelter, and hunt or defend as needed. He didn't need mercenaries with egos or adventurers chasing glory. Not yet.

He skimmed over the initial results, eyeing price tags and notes.

Harold scrolled slowly, one hand resting on the warm surface of the recruitment stone as the panel lit up with names, faces, and brief system-summoned profiles. The flickering fire at his back cast shifting shadows over the screen, but his focus was locked in.

He scrolled a bit further, eyes narrowing as he caught a few more listings.
Too expensive. Too specialized. Unwilling to go anywhere colder than a temperate swamp.

Time passed.

The recruitment panel made no sound—but in the quiet of the valley, it felt like the rest of the world had dimmed. Only the crackling fire and the occasional murmur of Kelan shouting orders broke the silence.

Harold looked up from the panel. Near the fire, Lira knelt over a set of children's bedrolls, checking their stitching with a healer's precision. Kelan was hammering branches into a basic A-frame alongside two of the earlier recruits, his movements steady and sure. Beyond them, Hal perched on a rise just outside the treeline, the firelight catching in the frost wolf's eyes.

Eventually, Harold settled on a listing for a lumberjack—one that included his entire family. His wife was listed as a cook, and they came with their own tools, two children, and a willingness to relocate immediately. For 16 silver, it was a steal. After a brief conversation in the staging area, the family eagerly agreed. The lumberjack had taken one look at the towering evergreens around the valley and grinned, saying the trees looked like great XP. The only stipulation: half of the wood he harvested would go toward building a home for his family until it was complete. Harold had agreed without hesitation.

Next came two brothers whose listing stood out for its odd blend of muscle and craftsmanship. Officially, they were Tier 1 Axe Fighters—but they'd grown up on construction sites under their father, a foreman. They knew how to build and weren't strangers to swinging hammers or managing timber. They'd chosen adventurer classes to escape the city and live a life of purpose. They wouldn't be much in a fight yet, but Harold needed builders more than warriors right now. For 11 silver, they were an easy choice.

He paused the search to speak with Kelan about the mountains—specifically, the possibility of ore veins in the cliffs surrounding the valley. If they were going to survive long-term, they needed a blacksmith.

One listing had stuck in his mind: a young female dwarf, low-level and unequipped, listed simply as "Blacksmith." Most had passed her over due to her lack of gear and experience. But after a short conversation, Harold found her direct, determined, and eager to prove herself. He hired her.

To support her, he brought in two Tier 1 miners. They lacked specialization but had solid endurance and were willing to work in harsh conditions. With that foundation, he finally returned to the hunter search.

He adjusted the filters: Tier 3 or below, under 1 gold, must be comfortable in cold and mountainous regions.

The list was refreshed.

Most were easy to dismiss—mercenaries with blood-soaked records, rogues who hunted more for sport than survival. But a few stood out. Harold slowed down, reading their summaries carefully, looking for more than just stats. He wanted someone who could adapt, someone who could thrive in this isolated valley.

Someone who could help them survive the winter to come.

One stood out:

[Recruitment Listing: Ferin Moss]
Race: Elf
Level: 305
Class: Wayfinder Hunter (Tier 3)
Dao Affinity: Beast, Wind
Contract Cost: 72 Silver
Notes:
– Former ranger of the Greenwall Dominion
– Specialized in tracking apex predators
– Lost his team to a blizzard wolf migration, survived 17 days alone
– Will not accept contracts from those he deems dishonorable
– Comes with two trained snowhounds and his own equipment

Harold tapped on the listing and was prompted to initiate a conversation.

Seconds after Harold confirmed the dialogue, the staging area shimmered—and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped through the veil. He wore a battered fur cloak patched in places with stitched hide. Snow-crusted boots. A curved longbow strapped across his back. Two lean, quiet hounds flanked him—snow-white with black-tipped ears and intelligent, unreadable eyes.

Ferin Moss gave Harold a once-over. His face was weathered, lined with the kind of experience you didn't get from books. His beard was streaked with silver, though he didn't seem old—just… seasoned.

"You the one with the valley?" Ferin asked flatly.

"I am," Harold said. "My name's Harold. We've found a sheltered valley behind a waterfall. High mountain walls, isolated. Forested, decent terrain. Big game in the area, but also a Tier 4 Frost Bear. We've got no roads, no walls, and just started putting up shelter. We're recruiting settlers, but I need someone who can hunt and scout. Someone who knows the wild."

Ferin's expression didn't change. He looked Harold up and down again, then at the flickering system panel still floating nearby. His hand dropped briefly to the head of one of his hounds, and it leaned into the touch like it had been trained for years.

"You're not with a noble house?"

"No. Just a Calamity building something different. No chains. No tricks."

Ferin's brow raised slightly. "A Calamity." sounding interested for the first time—just like he was filing it away. "Verordeal is making his move then...most Calamities don't survive their second winter."

"Then I'll last till spring," Harold replied. "You'll have full hunting rights in the valley. A say in how it's protected. And if you see a better way to survive—say it. I won't ignore it."

Ferin studied him in silence. Then: "I don't do politics. I won't kill on command, and I won't be sent out to die unless I choose to."

"You won't be," Harold said. "We need meat, hides, and someone who knows how to track more than just game. If there's danger in those woods, I'd rather hear it from someone who lived through a Blizzard wolf migration. And we were hunted by a Frost Wolf pack led by a Tier 4 Alpha earlier."

That got the next flicker of a reaction—a tiny twitch at the corner of Ferin's mouth. Not a smile. Something closer to a bitter memory.

"One silver per day, plus board and shelter," Ferin said. "I keep my hounds fed and armed with my own tools. You need something beyond that, you ask."

"Deal, with the option to renegotiate in 30 days time. I have a feeling you're gonna want to be with us permanently, not just hired help." Harold said, offering his hand.

Ferin looked at it, then clasped it firmly. "Then let's see your valley."

The system shimmered as Harold confirmed the contract, and moments later, Ferin stepped forward into the snow-dusted clearing beside the main fire.

His boots crunched softly on the hardened frost. The hounds flanked him without a command, each sniffing the air with practiced wariness.

Ferin took in the scene with a hunter's eye—first the treeline, then the firepit, then the figures beyond it. Lira was kneeling near the cookfire, stirring something in a pot while a child nestled close under her cloak. Kelan stood nearby, hammering a wooden beam into the skeleton of a shelter, his arms bare despite the cold.

The wind carried the scent of ash, pine, and old stone.

"This is it?" Ferin asked.

"It's a start," Harold replied.

Ferin knelt briefly, scooping a handful of the snow and letting it sift through his fingers. "Animal paths run through the north and western woodlines. Good cover, uneven terrain. Your fire's visible from the treeline—might need to shift that. But it's quiet."

"Quiet's good," Harold said.

"Sometimes," Ferin muttered. His gaze drifted to the soaring cliffs that cradled the valley. "How do you plan on watching those walls?"

"I was hoping that's where you'd come in," Harold said.

Ferin gave a slow nod. "I'll take the perimeter after sunset. Give me until morning, I'll have a map drawn with danger zones and hunting routes."

The older hound let out a low chuff, and Ferin gave it a quick whistle. It trotted toward the edge of the trees, then back, scouting with uncanny awareness.

"You'll want to rotate your latrine farther downslope too," Ferin added, already walking. "The runoff here's too close to where your people are cooking. Last thing you want is a dysentery outbreak while you're building walls."

Harold blinked. "You just got here."

"I've seen enough," Ferin said simply. "You've got a valley worth saving, but it'll only stay that way if you build smart. I'll build a snare line with markers in the morning. Keep your kids away from them."

He paused, turning back.

"Oh—and the bear?"

Harold raised an eyebrow. "Still out there. We used it to shake the wolf pack earlier."

Ferin gave a short grunt. "Then don't go near the river mouth for now. If that thing's nesting for winter, you won't want to stumble into its territory until you're ready."

He gave another whistle, and both hounds vanished into the trees like ghosts.

Harold turned back toward the fire, watching as Ferin melted into the woods like he'd always belonged there.

Kelan approached, wiping sweat from his brow. "He's not much of a talker."

Harold shook his head. "He doesn't need to be."

Kelan looked after him for a moment, then grunted in agreement. "Good hire."

"What do you need help with?'

If you can help that group cut and haul logs over, that's what we need for shelter and for the fire tonight. When I can get a source of stone I'll build the foundation for a Longhouse for us to live in initially.

"Well…lets get to work" Harold said walking over to help.