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HC: Handyman | Ch. 226 – Calls
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 16:52:34 +0000 UTCThe loot from the grey dire wolf had been incredible—at least, for everyone else. The boss of wave 45 had dropped almost a full set of gear: boots, leggings, a chest plate, and gloves—all of them rare quality. The only thing missing was a helmet.
The gear looked fluffy and cozy, just like the dire wolf’s pelt. Marie had claimed the boots and matching gloves, while Amari had taken the chest and bottom pieces. Together, they looked like a retro musical duo.
It suited Marie—made her look younger, even. Amari just looked stubbier.
Jack wasn’t with them. He was stationed alone at the back of the fortress, along the south wall, horn in hand. No cozy gear—just him, the freezing breeze, and the same two notes: B flat and high B flat.
He had no idea how many times he’d played the interval well enough to trigger a notification and a +2 XP bonus, but it had to be nearing a hundred. His lips were sore, and he was sick of hearing the same pair of notes again and again. Still, he kept at it.
B flat. High B flat.
You've played an interval.
+2 XP in Bard
B flat. High B flat.
You've played an interval.
+2 XP in Bard
And then—finally—
You've unlocked a new skill: [Horn Mastery].
[Horn Mastery] has been upgraded.
You've learned new calls: [Retreat Call], [Attack Call].
[Bard] synergizes with [Butcher].
You've learned [Start of the Hunt Call].
[Bard] synergizes with [Bushcraft].
You've learned [Feast Call].
Jack blinked, then let out a breath and grinned. That was more like it. He’d worried that simply playing the interval wouldn’t be enough, but it had worked.
Not only had he unlocked Horn Mastery, but it had already bumped up to level two—probably because he was already a journeyman Bard.
Instead of melodies, he’d unlocked calls—four of them, all at once.
Figures that it’s not even enough to be considered a melody, he thought. This instrument was barely worthy of its name. There was so little he could do with it. But at this point, he wasn’t about to complain.
He opened the descriptions.
Retreat (Call)
Call description: A warning cry urging your allies to fall back and regroup.
Overtones: 0
Attack (Call)
Call description: A call that emboldens your allies to charge the enemy lines.
Overtones: 1
Feast (Call)
Call description: A celebratory tune played after a successful hunt. Encourages rest and recovery.
Overtones: 2
Start of the Hunt (Call)
Call description: A triumphant blare marking the beginning of a hunt. Boosts morale and sharpens focus.
Overtones: 3
"That’s different," Jack muttered, scanning the descriptions. A few things stood out immediately.
There was no mention of difficulty level or melody type—just a brief description and the minimum number of overtones required to play each call.
As things stood, his current horn-playing skills would let him play the first two: Attack and Retreat. Anything beyond that would require him to master the next notes in the harmonic series.
The Start of the Hunt call, in particular, required a better instrument—one capable of producing more than just two overtones. That meant crafting a new horn entirely.
Unfortunately, there was no synergy with his other professions—no calls came from brewing, pottery, or even beekeeping.
Maybe I need to reach the next tier for that.
As a journeyman Bard, he had access to just four calls. Compared to the dozen ocarina melodies he knew, that felt... sparse. He guessed that calls were much rarer—possibly harder to earn. Surely, there’d be more down the line.
And, as usual, the system refused to reveal the actual effects of each call. He’d have to play them to find out exactly what they did. Still, one thing was immediately clear: this cow horn wasn’t going to cut it for everything.
He glanced down at the instrument in his hand. Carving a new one would take time. If he got working on the shagrat horn, that’d probably take him hours. Was it worth starting right away? Or would it make more sense to first test the two calls he could already play?
He paced, weighing it all.
The answer came quickly. There was no point in spending his resources building a better horn until he knew just how useful it was in a team setting.
Let’s get a feel for how this thing works first.
He selected Retreat from the list of calls and tapped “Demo.”
A short playback began—just one note repeated in a clipped, urgent rhythm. It wasn’t musical so much as it was functional, like a sharp bark. The entire sequence lasted maybe three seconds, ending as abruptly as it started.
Jack waited a moment, expecting something else.
"Is that it? Is it really this easy? One note?"
If they were giving him a free lunch, he’d take it.
He raised the horn and tried to mimic the playback. He blew into it in short bursts, stopping, then blowing again. He stopped and frowned. The timing was slow and uneven. He couldn’t match the staccato rhythm in the demo. Not even close.
Playing even a basic note on the horn required tight lip pressure and steady breath—stopping and starting on command wasn’t something that could be done fast enough to match the recording
What am I missing?
Still frowning, Jack opened his browser and typed: “quick stuttered notes horn.” Within seconds, a familiar figure appeared in one of the thumbnails—black suit, perfect posture, that ever-imperious gaze. The same gentleman who had explained overtones.
Jack clicked.
“Greetings once again, French horn players,” the man said crisply. “In today’s lesson, we shall explore articulation—the method by which a brass player introduces rhythm and clarity to their notes through the use of the tongue.”
He adjusted a cufflink. This time, Jack could see its shape clearly. A tiny French horn.
“This is commonly referred to as tonguing, or attack articulation. Do not be misled by the term—it is an exercise in control, not aggression.”
He raised the instrument and demonstrated, producing a clean sequence of quick, detached notes. The sound was crisp and evenly spaced, a pattern Jack instantly recognized from the demo.
“To perform this technique,” the man continued, “one must imagine saying ‘ta’ or ‘tu’ with the tongue as one blows. The tongue interrupts the airflow—not the lips, and certainly not the breath.”
He offered a subtle, almost pitying smile, as if he’d just watched Jack’s last attempt.
Jack leaned closer to the screen. Tu. Tu. Tu. That seemed simple enough.
“In time, with practice, one may progress to double or even triple tonguing,” the instructor added. “But for now, let us master the single stroke.”
The video paused. Jack leaned back, picked up the horn, and took a breath.
He shaped his tongue as instructed and blew. The first attempt sounded like a cough. The second was a little sharper. By the third, he managed something that almost resembled the demo’s rhythm—slower, but cleaner.
He grinned. All right. Now we’re getting somewhere.
He tried again, voicing ta, ta, ta in his mind and flicking his tongue lightly against his teeth. The stutters came faster this time, more controlled. He was starting to get the hang of it—speeding up with each attempt—until a notification popped up.
You’ve played [Retreat Call]!
+200 XP in Bard
+20% movement speed
+10% evasion
-30% attack
Buff lasts for 20 minutes.
“Woah!” Jack’s jaw slackened.
Speed and evasion? That wasn’t just a nice bonus—this was gold for troops retreating under pressure. Sure, it dropped attack by thirty percent, but who cared about that when the goal was to survive and escape?
It was the first buff he’d ever had that boosted other people’s movement speed. And the evasion bonus? That was even stronger than what he got from an aged batch of Breach-mead.
He pumped his fist triumphantly. All that effort had just proven itself.
The idea of sprinting out of a losing fight—too fast for anyone to catch, dodging blows left and right—was strangely satisfying.
Interesting... no performance grade this time.
With the ocarina, every note had been judged and graded. Here, he just played, and the system handed him the reward. It felt almost too easy—like the horn was a stripped-down cousin to a real instrument. A lite version.
But the cost was steep.
One call had already shaved off three durability points from his cow horn. Jack frowned.
“So much for this one lasting.” Like it or not, he was going to need to make a new horn—and soon.
Still, he couldn’t help himself. He tapped on the next demo: Attack.
This one used one overtone. Compared to the sharp, panicked rhythm of Retreat, this was bolder—more assertive. The player hit the higher note with confidence, using the fundamental only as a launchpad. The sequence repeated: once slowly, then quickly three times, and one last slow interval to finish.
The whole thing took maybe five seconds, just a touch longer than the first.
Jack steadied his breath, tapped his foot to keep tempo, and played.
He felt the call land before the notification even popped up.
You’ve played [Attack Call]!
+200 XP in Bard
+30% attack
-10% defense
+20% block
Buff lasts for 20 minutes.
[Retreat Call]’s buff has been canceled.
A faint shimmer ran across his vision as the first buff faded.
“It was looking too good to be true,” Jack muttered.
Unlike the ocarina, the system didn’t allow call stacking. You got one call’s benefits at a time—and they always came with trade-offs. Boost attack, lose defense. Run faster, hit softer. It was like shifting an entire squad’s posture with a single blast.
He was starting to see it now. He’d blow short calls at key moments, then return to the ocarina to stack melodies like usual. It was going to be a dance of timing and transitions.
“Thirty percent attack? Marie’s going to love this,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. Then he froze.
What about Horace? He could already imagine the look on his face once Jack started tinkering with his precious defense and block stats. The man was going to throw a fit.
Jack sighed. He could feel the headache already forming.
He’d better make sure Amari’s standing between them when that argument started.
Hopefully one of the other calls makes Horace happy...
He clutched the horn tighter. He already had four ways to boost his team: food, mead, ocarina melodies, and equipment. Now, there was a fifth—horn calls.
Now that he understood how it worked, he saw why he’d only been given four. Since the effects didn’t stack, having ten more wouldn’t change much. And honestly? He liked that. It was already hard enough to choose the right ocarina melody in the heat of battle. With the horn, he could just blow a call, then shift his focus back to what mattered most.
If I can stack everything just right... every soldier in our troupe could have the strength of two men.
And knowing Piri like he did, he had no doubt this would come in handy. Whatever was coming in the final wave was going to be especially nasty.
He checked the horn again. After just two calls, it was nearly spent—durability hanging by a thread. He tucked it away carefully.
The message was clear: he’d need a better one. And that’s exactly what he planned to make.
As he descended the battlement stairs, ideas were already forming about the next crafting project. If a simple cow horn could do this much, he couldn’t wait to see what the shagrat horn would unleash.
Comments
Cássio Ferreira
Thank you for your comment!
Cássio Ferreira
Haha. They are!
Shakyamunie
Hear hear ! The horns of war are starting !
ShadowKnight
Hurray
