Taming Destiny - a Tamer Class isekai/portal survival fantasy.

Careful. Caaarefuul, I say to myself as I tip the resin bowl. It’s hot, so I’d rather not spill it on my hand, but I do need to transfer the liquid so I can filter it. Right now, it’s full of detritus which won’t do anything to improve the consistency of my pitch. Drop by drop, the molten resin drips from the hole in the side of my bowl into another container. Fortunately, the resin filter bowl was not one of the ones which had exploded.

Actually, for my first time firing pottery, and in a rough and ready ground pit at that, a fifty percent success rate is not that bad. I’ve ended up with one big pot that’s good enough for collecting water, two medium pots, one small pot, the resin filtering bowl, and a plate.

Unfortunately, the other crockery I made were victims of the fire along with a couple of miscellaneous pots and the specially-shaped pot I made for charring the bark fibre. That was the one that hurt the most to lose, but I’ve managed to get the job done with one of the medium pots instead.

As my bowl of resin runs dry, I tip out the bits of wood and bark and dead insects that have accumulated, and then put in a few more resin chunks, placing the bowl back into my fireplace to soften them again. The pot with the filtered resin goes near the fire so that it stays liquid.

Sitting back on my heels, I think about my next steps. I’m dealing with the resin now; I’ll soon be adding the bark-fibre charcoal. Actually, thinking about that, maybe I should grind it up while I’m waiting for the next batch of resin to soften. So thinking, I go outside to grab the pot from where it’s still near the big fire, since I used some of the still burning coals to char the fibre.

The cubs are playing together and I pause to watch them for a few moments. Spotting Ninja hiding in the bushes waiting to ambush her siblings and Lathani, I shake my head a little. For once, it wasn’t Trouble who almost gave me a heart attack yesterday – it was Ninja! Upon getting back to the tree where I’d hidden the cubs, I’d only found two up in the nest.

Fortunately, Ninja hadn’t gone far and, my heart hammering, I’d found her in a bush nearby when she mewed plaintively. I reckon she must have either fallen out or been pushed accidentally: she certainly wouldn’t have chosen to go exploring the way Trouble no doubt would have. Not on her own, at least.

All three cubs retrieved, I’d returned to Bastet and our bounty. Turns out we’d managed to take down eight ostridocuses. Three had been killed before the herd fled – two of neck wounds that bled out quickly, and one from a crushed skull caused by a lucky rock throw. Lucky for us, that is, not for the ostridocus. The others had all been slowed sufficiently by our attacks to give us enough time to take them down after.

Either way, since the creatures stood as tall as my shoulder, it’s a good bit of meat that I’ve now got packed in my Inventory. And a good bit of Energy, frankly – I’m back up to above halfway to the next level. How long that will last, we’ll see. Plus, since they had such long legs, they also had a fair bit of sinew which is good news for everything I’ll need to do with that substance.

Food supply sorted for now, I’m back to my crafting. Well, survival crafting, at least – none of what I’ve made so far would be considered anything but shoddy work by an even remotely skilled craftsman, after all. Reminded that I want to do more today than just gaze fondly at cute cubs tumbling together – though I could do that all day, honestly – I grab the charred bark fibre and return indoors to keep an eye on my resin.

Grinding up the charcoal into a fine powder that I have to be careful not to blow away, I’m soon able to filter the next batch of resin. With the third, and final, batch on to melt, I find myself a little at a loose end. It’s not that I don’t have anything else to do – I just don’t have anything that will take as little time as the resin will to melt, and I don’t want to get distracted by something else or have to stop something halfway.

In the end, I just pull out my never-ending bark-fibre rope and keep twisting it. I’ll never have enough cord, and it’s the kind of thing I can just pick up and drop whenever I need to. Filtering the resin, I’m finally ready to move onto the next step.

Gently adding the black dust a pinch at a time, I blend the charcoal and resin together with a clean stick until the consistency is exactly what my ‘memories’ tell me is correct for a decent batch of pitch. Staring at the black gold, I’m frankly flabbergasted at how much effort had to go into making something so simple. On paper, that is. And maybe simple for people who start out with the right equipment, but like everything, when you don’t even have the right tools, it’s an upward battle.

Anyway, I have it now. Excitement rising, I take the container of pitch outside into the light so I can see it more clearly. Along with the sticky pitch, I take the axe-blade and axe-haft which have just been sitting in my cave, moldering away. Not literally, thankfully. Realising I’ve forgotten the shirt I decided to sacrifice to the cause, I hop back up and grab it before returning outside.

“Don’t touch that!” I shout, my heart rising into my mouth as I see Lathani with her paw hovering over the pitch. She looks up at me and freezes, her eyes as innocent as if her paw was not literally almost covered in sticky black stuff. My nerves calming down, I warn her even as I pull the pot away. “If you touch that, you’ll never get it out of your fur. It’ll be stuck to you forever.”

I’m not sure if she believes me, but she doesn’t pursue the matter so that’s a relief. Bastet keeps the other cubs under control with a simple grunt, so fortunately nothing serious happens.

It takes a little bit of wrangling, but finally, it’s done. My masterpiece is made. I hold the axe above my head and shout a war cry to the skies. I’d like to think that it shakes the crowns of the surrounding trees and strikes fear into the hearts of my enemies. If Bastet’s unimpressed look is anything to judge by, though, I’m more Simba’s ‘I can’t wait to be king’ than Mufasa.

Bringing my new axe down, I stare at my creation, prouder of my efforts than any father could be of his newborn child. From going through innumerable chunks of flint, to struggling to bore through the wood, to the whole military operation that has been creating the pitch, not to mention the blisters on my fingers from twisting together bark fibre, this axe has been nothing but trouble.

But now, it sits there gleaming in the sun, the axe-blade sitting snugly in the hole I made in the wooden haft, held in place by sticky pitch and rope wrapped around it on either side of the handle. It had better be worth all the pain and suffering that I put into its creation. If it embeds itself in a tree the first time and the axe-blade tears free of the handle, I think I might cry. Or scream and throw it so far that I’ll never find it again. Which wouldn’t be a good idea as then I’d have to put in all the effort again.

Anyway, it needs time to cool and set in place, so like I’m carrying the newborn baby I compared it to earlier, I lift the axe and place it in my alcove out of the way of clumsy cubs. At least, it should be out of their way, but with Trouble there….

OK, what next? I’d like to make my armour so I have some more protection, but I’m not ready to make sinew cord yet. Which also precludes me from making my bow. So...that makes soap-making the next on my list… Right. I’ve got my filtering container and plenty of ashes, but I don’t have the filtering material yet. I also need to render some fat. Hmm…

Deciding to multi-task, I take one of the two medium-sized pots which survived the firing and dump in some chunks of meat. Half-filling the pot with water from the other pot which I’d filled from the river this morning, I put it into my fireplace so that it’s nestled into the fire itself. That takes more manoeuvring than I’d prefer – I think I made the mouth of my fireplace a little small – but I succeed in the end. I may need to rethink my cooking design, but that’s for later when I really get tired of my pots being almost too big for it.

Leaving the pot to start heating up and cook the meat, I check that the converted tree stump is in my Inventory. It is. Noticing that my big pot is almost out of water, I decide I might as well kill two birds with one stone and grab it. I’m running out of Inventory space again, but I’ve got a couple of spaces free. Hopefully I’ll gain some more room when I level up, but who knows when that will be.

I consider bringing Bastet with me, remembering what happened the last time I went out alone, but dismiss it in the end. The cubs are having fun, Bastet is relaxing, and I’m not going that far. If anything does attack me, it shouldn’t be anything I can’t handle. Letting Bastet and Kalanthia know that I’m heading out but plan to be back long before nightfall, I walk down the slope, cheerfully whistling. I’m actually feeling good: I’ve just managed to finish a task which I’ve been working on since practically the day I arrived in this world. It may have been a good three weeks, but I’ve finally succeeded.

Getting closer to the stream, I focus and make myself get more serious – I’ve had far too many near-to-the-knuckle experiences in this forest to take it even remotely lightly. What’s it going to be today? Something fall on my neck from above? Trap my leg from below? Leap at my back or my front? Man, I’ve got an axe. Let them come. Not that I actually have the axe with me, but whatever. Let them come anyway and see what I’m made of.

Perhaps I’ve underestimated just how elated this accomplishment makes me feel. Come on, man, I tell myself. It’s just an axe. But even my attempts to pour water on my own feelings don’t work. Giving up, I just let the smile spread across my face and the bounce in my step continue, despite how it negatively impacts Stealth and Fade.

After filling my big pot, I walk along the river, as that’s where I’m going to find what I need. Keeping a wary eye out, I’m thankfully not attacked as I approach the bed of fine pebbles which are going to be the bottom layer of my filter. I’d prefer to have sand, but I haven’t spotted any of that yet.

Kneeling down, I pull the former tree stump out of my Inventory and set it down beside me. Grabbing a couple of handfuls, I start filling the bottom of the container, aiming to fill the sloped part and a little more besides. I’m about halfway to that goal when I hear a loud splash, just as a barely-registered hint of movement makes me flinch backwards.

My quick reactions are all that stop the toothed mouth from snapping shut on my face. Sharp teeth instead clack together a bare inch away from my nose. For a moment, both of us are stunned, looking at each other without moving. As I get a glimpse of my attacker, I groan mentally. Aw man, I forgot these were dinosaurs.