The Butcher of Gadobhra-Chapter 545: Ways to Not Fix the Roof
After such a huge battle, there was work to do everywhere in the Barony. Ozzy's part, as usual, was chopping meat and making sausage. Ben and Rolly were off playing commando with Chartok and harassing the Winter army. Suzette was busy with Sedgewick and the dozens of small jobs that kept the town and the tavern running. There was a lot that he could have helped out with, but the armies of the Empire needed food, and the Baron was only too happy to supply it. So, Ozzy concentrated on chopping meat.
Billy wanted to double the production of meat for the army, knowing he could deduct it from his tax bill. They were already producing a lot, but Gadobhra seemed to have a nearly inexhaustible supply of creatures in its dungeons, haunted woods, deep caverns, and forbidding swamplands. All of it was pulled to the stockyards to feed the Pit of the Butcher, and as a happy by-product, provide the Empire with sausage and Bill a tax write-off.
Labor wasn't in short supply, not with nearly all Contract Workers now skilled at chopping meat and anxious to earn a few enhancement points if something truly nasty appeared. What limited Ozzy at times was a shortage of barrels. There was an art to making barrels, and a shortage couldn't be solved by throwing more people at it. And even if Billy had tried to buy barrels elsewhere, he was sure that somehow they would never arrive.
But Ben had seen this coming and rotated some of the crews that normally cut timber into the barrel-making process to learn the basics. They weren't skilled coopers, but they could assist by splitting logs into quarters and then the quarters into smaller wedges that would make the staves, before stacking the pieces to dry in the smokehouse. The first time they had loaded pallets of wood into the smokehouse hadn't gone well. As far as Chainy was concerned, wood was for burning. As soon as his fire burned low, the stacks of cut wood were pushed into the hell pit for fuel. Ozzy had a long talk with his partner in crime and conveyed the idea that the staves were used for barrels, which were used to hold meat. Joe had observed the conversation, the Butcher sitting in the middle of hundreds of feet of chain, and laughed, shaking his head. The next day, another load of wood was put in the smokehouse. Chainy took a few of the cut pieces, tried to make a barrel. Frustrated and not understanding, he swept the second load into the fire.
Ozzy had been forced to take a few dozen hoops and a wagonload of staves into the smokehouse and use the skills learned in the smoke to make barrels from the smoke-infused wood. One by one, he infused the stakes with wood so they couldn't burn, carved the stakes, then assembled the barrels, bending the wood and hammering on the hoops with his bare hands. As he finished each one, Chainy would stuff it full of smoked meat and seal it tight, forcing as much smoke as he could into the barrels. Ozzy took a break, once again explaining how to make barrels from the wood, and why it was important not to shove it all into the fire pit. Then he began making more staves, piling them up to repeat the lesson. Something he did must have worked, as Chainy got impatient and began putting barrels together himself, showing the Butcher that a dozen demonic chains were better than two hands.
Once he understood the barrel puzzle, Chainy insisted on doing part of the work himself. The wood crafters would bring in pallets of unfinished staves, but leave Chainy a pile of finished pieces and iron hoops to play with. Mostly, this resulted in more barrels. But now and then, people would hear a rattling of chains, and the sound of a mishapen barrel being smashed into the floor and the wood swept into the pit. Having mostly worked out the barrel shortage, Ozzy went back to butchering in Gadobhra, holding his late-night sessions no matter the weather. And the weather over Gadobhra was often interesting. Ozzy hadn't remembered there being quite so many thunderstorms before, the lightning coming down again and again on the ACME building and illuminating the entire town for brief seconds, the harsh light illuminating the ruins and the creatures that came out at night to hunt in them.
The city had a few brighter areas now. The ACME building was a bright torch, and the area directly around it was lit to encourage adventurers to visit the two small bars, shops, bank, and other businesses that were popping up. The Endless Dance shone brightly on the perimeter, inviting all to tread the light fantastic. And, the area by the stockyards where they cut the meat was lit by strange alchemical lamps supplied by the Arcane College. Volminus had brought them one night and asked to set them up. They gave off a bright white light that flickered slightly, making shadows dance on the walls and ground. He waited all night, hoping for something to happen, and when it didn't, he gave a great sigh. "Back to the drawing table. Perhaps more cursed brimstone in the mix?" The workers appreciated the lamps, and they placed orders with the college for lights to put in the homes they were building around the barony.
In addition to Ozzy and his fellow workers, there was always a squad of soldiers eager to hone their skills. They always came as a ten-man unit with a hard-eyed decurion in charge. Sometimes, a few of the older veterans came along as well. Missing an arm or leg, or even their eyes, didn't mean they'd forgotten how to fight. A priest of Ares was always with them, offering his blessings. As he had with the youths from the hamlets, Ozzy would get them into the fights against the easier bosses, making sure they survived to claim the enhancement points and gear. And some of the gear was quite remarkable. With two shrines to the Goddess Artemis nearby, and a priest of Ares in their number, Ozzy was damned sure someone was watching. More than once, the rewards were mechanical arms and legs crafted by Hephastus, or full helmets that gave the sight of an eagle. Three times the rewards were glistening shields that bore the sigil of Hermes, the newest god of war. They protected not only their bearer, but also the soldiers to either side of them
As the veterans regained their fighting ability and strength, it became more and more common to see full squads of them coming for the evening festivities. The regular soldiers had limits on how much they drank. The veterans had no such restrictions and were often gathered around a barrel of enchanted cider or beer, telling stories of past battles. Ozzy began to set up his tripe pot every night. There were certainly plenty of scraps to feed it with, and plenty of hungry people to eat the soup he made. From dark to dawn every night, the sound of cleavers chopping meat echoed through the city, louder than the screams of the chimera in the Beast Woods. It was an intimidating sound to the gristle daemons that used to roam the city. Like the ghouls, they were cautious now as they moved around the dark city seeking prey. The sound carried even into the pit where the other Butchers smiled as they worked, or fought with groups of adventurers. The Butcher of Gadobhra felt each slam of a cleaver in his bones as he sat on his throne and chewed on his hard, wolf-flavored snacks.
When dawn came, the workers would load the wagons with piles of meat to take to the butcher shop in Sedgewick, where Runt would work long hours preparing it for sale in Sedgewick, or to be packed in ice and shipped to Wolfsburg. He also set aside the choice bits that Ozzy would use in his special sausages.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Ozzy took the rest of the meat to the sausage factory in Gadobhra, where his three minions would gleefully sort it, play with it, and make a mess before tossing it all into the grinders and turning it into sausage filling. Ozzy never begrudged them their games as long as most of the work got done. They were free labor, and his problem was finding ways to reward them without scaring them. It had taken them a week to get over the shock of being given new butcher's aprons. Ozzy had come storming through the door one day, grumbling about guild rules, and tossed each of them a sedge hide apron with their name on the front. Once they accepted that this was 'the rules' and not a gift, they were ecstatic and hadn't taken them off since. Ozzy was going to talk to Gristle about maybe a few more rules for exminions. Winken, Blinken, and Nod might not be the sharpest knives in the drawer, but they were getting better and a big help in the sausage work. On the big butchering nights, the three of them climbed atop the roof of the sausage factory and watched the fights, thankful that it wasn't part of their duties, but eager to see the strange creatures in the pens before they were chopped into pieces.
And they were getting stranger. Ozzy wondered if the spells that found creatures in the surrounding area and pulled them to Gadobhra were getting stronger, or pulling from farther out as he worked to clear the stock yards each night. The Snowdogs had started showing up after the wolf invasion of Sedgewick. All anyone could figure was that some of the packs had tried to sneak around Sedgewick through the woods and gotten snared by the stockyards on the other side of the wall. They were almost as big as the Snarlfangs and tier four, but didn't share the elite status of those monsters. Some more resembled the winter wolves in features. But while weaker than the Snarlfangs, these weren't starving or brain-dead from being frozen. There was none of the lean, rangy look of the animals that winter had sent against them. These dogs had a lot of meat on their bones, and if they were less vicious, they were stronger and smarter. The animals in nearby pens stayed far away from their shared borders.
Ozzy took no chances with them the first time they showed up, making sure he had plenty of people ready to fight before they let the first one out. And a good thing that he had. As if waiting for the gate to be opened a few inches, they rushed forward, throwing themselves at the gate and pushing their way out. There were only six of them in the pen, but it took all twenty contract workers to deal with them and not let any bolt for the beastwoods. After they were all slain, at the cost of four contract workers who would be taking the rest of the night off and waiting for resurrection, Ozzy dissected them himself, wanting a look at the meat.
Aleister was happy to help. Any new creature might yield new alchemical recipes from its parts. He was especially happy when they managed to kill one of the exploding pink sheep before it could ignite its wool. The Alchemist had improved the potency of his Concussion Bombs and Molotov Cocktails with a small tuft of wool in each bottle, and when Vladimir and Damien had seen their potency, they had insisted that Aleister visit the Academy of Engineering as a guest professor. Ozzy had seen the three of them experimenting with several experimental potion launchers late at night. What they lacked in accuracy was made up for in the fury of the fiery blasts they unleashed on the few daemons stupid enough to get near their building.
As they reduced the carcasses to parts, Aleister carefully bottled up the spleens, hearts, stomachs, and other organs for study. Ozzy focused on how to get the best cuts of meat off the newest monster in the stockyards. He was happily surprised to find usable meat on the shoulders and haunches, and nice marbling on the rib meat. He decided to experiment with this first batch and see what it tasted like. The hides varied greatly, some black or brown, and one was pure white. The fur was coarse and stiff, but he suspected it might be very warm. Like the rest of the hides, these were handed over to the leather workers to see what could be made from them.
After another long night, the Workers headed back to Sedgewick for a bath in the creek and an hour or two of sleep before heading to their normal jobs. Ozzy made the delivery to check in on his minions, then headed home with just one small stop on his way home for a cup of coffee and to deliver some meat to Hungry Town. He was startled by the roar of an angry bear and the squeals of frightened children. Or what he'd thought were frightened children. As he sprinted into the town, getting bigger with each step, he saw a dozen children riding on the back of an immense black bear as their unconcerned parents watched or went about their day.
He stopped in the middle of town and scratched his head, a little embarrassed. Mama Laveau was laughing and waved him over. "Come sit yourself on the porch. What does my favorite butcher have for me today?"
Ozzy put a burlap-wrapped package of meat down on the old wood of the porch and carefully sat down. "Porkchops and hams from some sort of winged pig with webbed feet. They looked odd, but the meat seemed fine. I brought about fifty pounds."
She smiled, "You're a good boy. Have we got flying pigs now? This place still surprises me now and then. You looked a little surprised, too. You hungry? Of course you are. I'll have my new cook bring out a cobbler. He's determined to learn how to make one, and we've been eating them every night for dessert."
"I didn't know you had a pet bear."
She took a puff on her corncob pipe and said, "Don't have one. That one's better at babysitting the children than he is on top of a roof. I've got a fox and a stag for that part."
Ozzy looked at the people working on the roof, surprised to see two of the knights from the fae lands. Then Bob walked out of Mama's house with a platter full of berries and biscuits, handing it to Ozzy. He looked nervous, "I'm still trying to get the trick of this. I never knew cooking was such a difficult task."
Ozzy took a bite, "Tastes just fine, Bob. Cobbler can be messy and still taste great."
The Summer Lord beamed at the praise. "I'll get back to cleaning the dishes then. Just yell if you want more. I'm practicing a lot and running out of people to eat them."
Mama Laveau waited until he'd gone, then said softly, "My, but that boy tries hard. And he's getting better, only breaks a few dishes now and then. The tall Fae live a long time, and it takes them a good bit to pick up new things. Cooking and fixing roofs are a mystery to them."
Ozzy looked at the people working on the roof, surprised to see two of the knights from the fae lands. "I sense a good story behind all of this."
"Sit there and stuff your face, then, and I'll fill you in on all the ways they've learned how to not fix a roof." As if on cue, the Fox hit his thumb with a hammer and yelled. The startled Stag lost her footing and slid down the roof, landing on the muddy ground. The Bear roared again and the children laughed.
Ozzy took another bite of the messy desert, enjoying the quiet moment.
