Treegiraffe2's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

Treegiraffe2 woke to a crash against her cottage wall. She looked through the round window. Zombies pressed against the greenhouse glass. More clawed at the storehouse door. The lanterns inside both buildings glowed bright, and the light had pulled every monster in the field straight to her town. Her cottages sat right in the middle of the swarm. She grabbed her diamond sword and stepped out. One night like this could kill any player she invited. She had to fix it before she brought anyone here. Skibble came running from his cottage, gold chain swinging. He had helped her survive her very first night, pointing her to a hidden diamond sword when she had nothing. He looked at the swarm and did not flinch. "You can't just wall it off," he said. "The light stays. The crops need it. So the town needs fighters." "I only know how to swing once and hope," she said. "Then we train." He pulled her past the square to a dark stone building she had never entered. Forges burned inside. A rack held gleaming diamond swords, spears, and a mace set with a bright blue gem. A battered wooden dummy stood in the yard, wrapped and patched from old hits. Skibble handed her a fresh diamond blade. "Feet apart. Don't chase them. Let them come to you." He struck the dummy. The blade bit deep and clean. "Two hits, step back. Two hits, step back. Never get surrounded." Treegiraffe2 copied him. Her first swing missed. Her second landed. She stepped back like he showed her. Again. Again. Her platform boots found their footing in the dirt. Skibble circled the dummy, calling the rhythm until her arms remembered it. "Now the real ones," he said. They ran back to the cottages together. A zombie lunged at the greenhouse door. Treegiraffe2 planted her feet and swung twice. It fell. She stepped back, just as he taught her. Skibble took the skeleton at the storehouse. She caught two more zombies between the cottages, two hits each, stepping clear so none could box her in. Her sword felt light now. Her fear did not. The last zombie dropped as the sky went gray. The field lay quiet. The greenhouse glowed on, untouched. The storehouse door held. No cottage had a scratch. Treegiraffe2 wiped her blade and grinned. "I can defend this place. And I can teach it." "That's the point," Skibble said. "Every player who comes learns this. Then the light doesn't matter. The town fights back." She looked at the weapons hall, then the safe cottages, then the square between them. Housing, food, and now defense. But the rack held enough diamond arms for a dozen fighters, and only two of them knew how to use them. She needed people. Real players, filling the cottages, learning the rhythm. It was time to open Tetra2 for good.