Got murdered like four times by the same purple slime while trying to cut down trees.

Guide got me through it - cuz his aim is like 10x better than mine. Btw I have 11 Accessory slots because I am noob and I need help. I also love the different types of accessories. RN it's 11 - but eventually I think it goes to 13 cuz Demon heart & Celestial Onion.

Btw I have research - it's a system where if you collect a certain number of an item, you can research it and make it freely anytime. I mostly use it because I'm garbage at keeping stuff in order and lose everything lol. The research menu means you can just type in the thing u want.

I'm moreso trying to roleplay my fic, than fic my playthrough. The latter would involve a lot of dying and anger.

Armour: None

Weap: None (Copper Pickaxe, Copper Axe, Copper Hammer)

Acc (11): None

Health: 100

It was already late afternoon by the time the structure's framework went up. It might have gone up more quickly, but The Terrarian had proven himself not only threateningly stoic - but also cripplingly meticulous. He had set his heart on not only building a structure, but also a foundation. Once he discovered the usage of the pickaxe (he had demanded it from the salvage bag), he had evacated an unbelievable amount of stone and clay from the bowels of the earth, then spent an irritating amount of time carefully laying a perfectly square foundation. He wouldn't be rushed and likewise wouldn't heed The Guide's promptings to hurry and erect a shelter before the night rushed upon them.

… Is he deaf? Does he just not understand me?

The Guide gritted his teeth as he took aim with his bow, lining his eye up against his arrow before letting it fly at a trembling blue slime which had slowly been making its way toward The Terrarian. This was the twentieth slime he had killed just today, and his supply of arrows was rapidly dwindling. The Terrarian had obviously noticed The Guide was protecting him, but the realization didn't seem to motivate him to work any faster, nor did he offer his thanks. He seemed to simply accept the Guide's efforts as something he was supposed to do, and glanced expectantly at him whenever a slime got too close to his precious building. The entire ordeal was beginning to grate on him, and The Guide found himself in a decidedly sour mood.

It's not even a very nice building… urg, my shoulders…

With a sigh, The Guide walked over to the building's framework and looked it over with a hint of disdain. It was the skeleton of a rather large, flat roofed shed formed of plain wood, set on a double tiered foundation of first clay, then stone. The construction wasn't very inspired, but boasted an impossible, perhaps magical quality of workmanship.

I've… never seen a building like this...

The wooden beams were thick and solid - their diameter sometimes exceeding that of the trees from which the lumber had been cut. They had been fastened at perfect right angles. Fastened by what? No matter how closely The Guide looked, he couldn't for the life of him find any trace of a rope or nail. It was as if these manufactured wooden beams had all been carved from the same great slab of wood - which they obviously hadn't. If The Guide weren't so miffed at the builder, he might have offered some sort of praise, alas he simply tapped his foot against the cold stone floor and waited for the Terrarian to finish staring at the ceiling before offering his criticism.

"Terrarian… If you want to live through the night, you had better build some walls. These wooden poles aren't going to keep you safe. You have maybe three hours to finish this thing before the two of us are eaten alive. Could you get on with it?"

"..."

The Terrarian didn't look at him. Instead, he simply generated another bundle of logs in his hand and stared at them. The sticks vanished, and stone appeared in their place. After a moment, they too vanished and The Terrarian seemed to slump over in defeat. After a moment, he turned to The Guide and addressed him. His voice, utterly flat.

"Guide. Walls. How do I make them."

It was a question, yet stated like a demand. The Guide bit back the urge to refuse the request for information and raised his eyebrows once more as he rattled off whatever he'd read in blueprints and construction manuals over the years. The Terrarian, for once, listened closely to him.

"Wood will do for now, the recipe for Wooden walls is as follows, on a workbench divide the panels into quarters and fasten them together w-"

To his chagrin, he was interrupted. The Guide felt steam rising from his ears.

"Workbench."

"Yes, workbench. Fasten them together on a workbench and flatten with a hamme-"

"How do I make a Workbench."

The Guide uttered an indescribable noise, then shut his eyes, turned away and took a deep breath. He swore if he looked at that flat - emotionless face for a single second longer, he'd either fly into a rage or just break down crying from frustration. Perhaps he'd do both, just to relieve the pressure.

I really should have killed him… phew… okay… okay… just… just tell him, and you'll have somewhere to hole up for the night...

The Guide's voice was exasperated as he recited the recipe. Behind him, he could hear The Terrarian scraping wood together in accordance with the instructions.

"Ten pieces of wood, laid together in this fashion. Six forming a flat-topped tabletop, supported by four legs which should be fastened as sturdily as possible. The table should be about waist-height for ease of use, and… and you've already made it, haven't you."

The Terrarian didn't dignify him with a response. Now that The Guide had served his purpose, he was once again to be ignored. Frankly, this rudeness annoyed The Guide more than it should have and he marched over to the newly created workbench to justify himself. He stopped short when he realized what The Terrarian was doing.

That really is a lot of wood… Hold on… there's no way he chopped down this many trees...

The Terrarian had dumped his wood collection to the floor - where, piled high as his waist, it covered half the foundation and spilled out onto the field beneath. How much lumber was there? A ton? Three? Five? It was eyepopping, and frankly The Guide didn't know what to make of it. This was an entire forest of trees, but the Guide had only seen The Terrarian take down twenty - thirty trees at most. Was… was he somehow duplicating his resources? That's ridiculous…

It was ridiculous.

And so was watching The Terrarian create great slabs of wall, instantly, and with nothing but his bare hands and a suspiciously well crafted tabletop. They weren't flimsy panels either. They were hardy walls of pressed hardwood as thick as a man's leg. The type that seemed to be built to weather the worst of storms. The creatures of the night couldn't dream of breaking into this house, and nobody could dream of breaking out. The panels were piling rapidly, their great weight collectively leaning against a single pillar of the shed's framework. If The Guide had seen this disaster-to-be in any other situation, he would have called out to warn the builder - but The Terrarian had long proven the laws of physics didn't apply to him. He was not a creature not of this world. He possessed the necessary 'otherness' to bend the laws of nature itself. It was an enviable power. One that nearly anyone would covet.

This power… it came from my village… their lives...

The Guide watched listlessly as the walls came up around him, his sour mood replaced with something much darker. The Terrarian had busied himself with his new favorite toy (his workbench) and was utterly consumed with crafting fine pieces of furniture with nothing but twigs and sawdust. He didn't seem to need The Guide to create what he was working on - and thereby didn't even spare his companion a glance as he walked out of the building to stare at the setting sun.

They made him… they made such a selfish man… urgh...

The Guide slumped on the steps of the foundation and looked across the dusky treeline. Oh, how he wished to see his family again. Those friendly faces who would talk with him, tell stories and share jokes over a hearty meal around a campfire. They were the light of his life. A light that had been extinguished not twenty-four hours ago.

And now, all he had was a cold, emotionless Terrarian.

As the sun dropped over the horizon, the world was plunged into inky darkness. The Guide felt the darkness creep into him, despair chilling him to the bone. Now that he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts, the reality of his villages' death dawned on him, and he felt hot tears slick his cheeks.

The wind rustled the trees.

An owl hooted.

A groan muttered in the distance.

An oddly familiar groan. A voice he recognized.

The Guide raised his eyes and stood to his feet.

And compelled by his profound loneliness - stepped out into the darkness.

Thought it'd be funny to make player super OCD about building. There are several ytubers who build in terraria and holy moly is the stuff gorgeous.

Also my Guide legit walked out in the middle of the first night - After I built a house for him - like eight times. I had to eventually wall him in otherwise he'd get his ass eaten by zombies.

'The Guide' though... he's pretty cool. I'm liking how he's turning out.

'The Terrarian' is kinda an ass - but then again he was born 24 hours ago you need to cut him some slack lmao.

Don't tell me that's not how u treat ur guide tho- :eyes:

* say hi to me in the comments. is there really a community in this part of Fanfic or nah? lmk? say Hi anyways I guess. Let me know if anyone's reading.