military people to recognize it, having lived with a few hundred for the last months. The stuff reeked, acidic and harsh smelling at the best of times. Next to that was a single boot, a military one that wasn't his at all. It looked to be several sizes too big and like it had been used by a dog or two as a chew toy. Last there was a single amulet, a light producing one meant for a house, that looked like someone had used a chisel to try and break in two, probably trying to double the field. That got a sudden surge of red from his chest that glowed brightly enough to cast a light visible even in the bright sun.
“They could have at least tried to use a cutter if they wanted to split the field! Who did this and what kind of brain damage do they have?” He asked, spinning on Holly angrily holding the amulet in his right hand so the Countess could see what he meant. She didn't move, but her body reacted as if she expected a blow. That would be silly of course. Sure he could hit at her, but she was wearing a shield and he wasn't. Even if she'd been the smaller person and he the giant, and the Countess wasn't an accomplished fighter, she still would have kicked his butt. Besides, violence never really helped, did it?
Seriously though, who tried to chop a field apart? They had cutters. He knew that for a fact, because he'd had several for personal use in his gear if nothing else. Tor sighed and went to put his clothes on. So angry that he didn't really dry very well and forgot to be embarrassed, facing them all as he did it. Holly kept her eyes downcast, which he could understand, since she was responsible for the training of the people that had done it. That… that butchery!
It wasn't the value of the light of course. Really, given everything that wouldn't make a big difference over all and technically County Printer was supposed to be buying all of them anyway. That included the ones they destroyed or lost. If she wanted to hack them all apart she could, technically. But it was just such a… bonehead move. Tor fumed about it for a minute but didn't say too much. It was too late to fix it now and the person that did it had probably figured out their mistake when it hadn't worked, right? He took several deep breaths and tried to hold his tongue. Acting like a jerk never helped anything either, just like violence, did it?
No, it really didn't.
Obviously if this was all they had for him, his things were gone. Tor literally had nothing. Looking over at the house up the beach a ways, he nodded to himself. A slow and considering movement.
That wasn't really true was it? He had his magic, and while that didn't get him food or clothes directly, he had a place to live that he could take with him now. That and some beach rocks and he could build whatever he needed pretty quickly. Maybe even clothes? Tor didn't know, but after sitting to put his socks on, hard to do with damp feet he discovered, and then his soft leather shoes, Torrance Green Baker decided not to let it get to him. He had a lot more than some people did after all. He had skills. Whining about all he'd lost wouldn't help him rebuild.
Struggling up he grabbed the chest and loaded the bottom of it with about two hundred small stones, selecting them carefully, trying to get somewhat round ones that weren't broken and about the size of a gold coin more or less. It didn't take long, and no one spoke while he worked. They just stared. Then he picked the chest up, feeling a little fatigued from all the swimming, since it had been unaccustomed activity, and carried it to the house. Everyone but Petra blinked when they noticed it, but she just followed him in, towel wrapped over her shoulders and still a little damp in places.
The quickest thing to do would be make up fields he already knew well, so that he could build up some stock. The stone was plain, but if he added glowing fields to them, that would dress them up some, right? He didn't even need to carve sigils that way, just make the marks he wanted glow on the surface of the stone. Duh. It was so obvious he kind of wondered why anyone ever did anything else. When he got to the door he left it open, his hands being full, even though the box wasn't that heavy, it was awkward for him to handle being large, so everyone followed him in.
Trice let her eyes go wide and went room to room with Varley. That took a while so Tor started sorting the rocks, some still wet, on the table in front of him. He made ten piles of twenty each, leaving him with seven stones in an odd pile.
The girls came out of the bathing chamber and sat at the table next to him, Holly standing near the kitchen wall the whole time, staring at him and barely blinking. Kolb actually putting his arm around her to… comfort her? Why did she need to be coddled? She held her left arm in her right and looked worried. Tor could kind of get that. His little glass pendant was still glowing a bright red. He felt more than a little pissed off at the moment. It wouldn't help anything, but he felt it nonetheless.
Her military might just be filled with morons, so that had to get to her, didn't it?
“Right. Not to be rude, but if everyone could leave and come back tomorrow… about mid-afternoon? Luncheon or later? I have some work to do.” He didn't say more, just collected up the first batch of stones, the odd group of seven, and moved to the back, towards the bed nearest the restroom door. It had a corner space and about five feet between it and the next bed. He sat and started working without waiting to see if anyone was actually leaving or not. It was just copy work after all. Tor wouldn't need anyone to feed him or do anything else either.
Hours passed and darkness fell. After the fifth batch Tor lay down and slept till morning. He used the restroom when he got up, which worked well, thankfully. He had to wash up in the ocean, but that worked for now, even if it did leave him smelling a bit like the sea and covered with salt. It made his skin pull a little as it dried, a funny feeling.
Somehow, rock beach or not, he also had bits of sand clinging to him when he moved, rubbing in places it ought not. While he was out he hooked the house up with water, which he had to direct using a single stone, aiming it like a force lance in reverse, because it was a special pump. It filtered the water though, so he could drink it, bath with it and use it for cooking directly. It formed a nearly invisible line in the air, about six inches across, from well away, about a half mile. That way the water should run all the time, tides or not.
Then he finished the next six batches of things before anyone even tried to visit, a long time before really, though Tor didn't have a clock yet. The rest of the early day he spent making stuff on the beach, using an incredibly strong compressor rig to fuse rocks into stone pots and pans, cups and some other things, boxes and whatnot. They were stone gray mainly, but without pores or air gaps, slightly slick and heavy looking.
Then he tried his hand at fishing in the ocean. That part… didn't work too well. In fact, filled with fish or not, he couldn't find anything. Not even giant bugs. Hunger and wearing the same clothes left him feeling a bit grumpy, and possibly a little surly, but then who didn't feel a bit out of sorts when they got hungry?
Well, the people in town might be willing to trade for some of the junk he'd made, right? That being was what it was for. He loaded up a little stone box, about the size of both his hands put together with fifty odd stones inside, and started walking. His first stop was the bakers, hoping the man would still want something and be willing to deal.
Tor felt hesitant, but the man beamed at him and started out by giving him a sweet roll, without even being asked anything. It was good, well made and sugary, better because he was hungry. They worked out a deal which heartened Tor a lot. For some temperature control units and lights that weren't red, as well as a water heater for his bath, the man opened up a line of credit, so that Tor could have whatever he wanted from his shop from then on. Providing it was open of course. Smiling Tor said he'd be back for a pie and some bread later. The man was happily playing with one of the lights and waved cheerily as Tor headed out.
The next shop Tor tried wasn't interested in what he had at all, or more likely, in him. The woman was older and seemed hostile from the beginning, her face hard and bitter, lips tight and angry lines, not even listening to what he was saying. She basically ordered him out, pointing at the door and looking ready to back it up with violence. Tor shrugged. It was too bad, because he could have used some of the clothes she had for sale. It was simple stuff, canvas clothes in a variety of colors, mainly gray and brown, but some brighter things too. At the next shop over, part of the same building in fact, a store that had simple metal goods, the man inside laughed as he explained what had happened with the lady merchant, and smiled.
“Well, you do look a bit disreputable, with the beard growth and all. Ethyl was robbed a year ago or so, thieves cleaned her out at knife point, weren't nothing she could do, so she's none too trusting of anyone now, especially if she don't know them. I may be willing to deal though, if what you have isn't garbage.” The man was polite enough, also older and, it turned out, both the local blacksmith and Ethyl's husband, Clark.
He was delighted by what Tor had, but didn't know if they could deal once he saw it.
“I'm afraid any one of those things is worth more than my entire inventory right now… Magic lights, in stone with a sigil that glows all the time so you can find it in the dark, and that even let you set how bright the light is? I
