Camp Hermit-Blood: a Hermitcraft fanfiction

Chapter 2

"This is it," Grover said proudly, gesturing to the farm.

"This is it?" Grian asked.

The other Hermits shared his confusion. All they saw was a strawberry farm.

Except Gem, however. She was excited. "I love strawberries!"

Grover sighed. "You'll see. Just... just go down there. Once you pass this pine tree" - he touched a spruce next to him - "you'll see it."

The Hermits started down the hill, and one by one, they all gasped as they saw what Camp Half-Blood really looked like.

I'm not gonna describe it. The Percy Jackson books do that just fine.

"Is that lava?" Tango exclaimed, pointing to a climbing wall.

"That forest is scary, I'm not going in there," Scar said.

"Are you kidding? I bet there's all sorts of mobs and cool stuff to fight!" Ren said, swinging his axe.

"Is that where we sleep?" Bdubs said, looking at a jumble of crazy buildings. Then he yawned. "I could use a nap."

"You could always use a nap," Tango pointed out.

Bdubs shrugged and yawned again, causing several other people in their group, including Grover, to as well.

"Well then," Grover said. "I'll take you to Chiron. Someone will give you the grand tour of the place. Then I think I'll take a nap. It's been a long day."

"Literally all you did was bring us here," Grian said.

"I've done other things, too," Grover protested. "Exhausting things. Like dealing with Percy."

"Who's Percy?" Gem said curiously.

"My friend. I brought him here a few days ago. Since then, all he's been doing is cause trouble. He drenched a few Ares kids with toilet water yesterday, and now they all hate him."

Grian looked at him with interest. "Toilet water?"

"Don't get any ideas," Grover warned.

Grian was getting ideas.

The group headed down the hill toward a big blue farmhouse. It was probably the most normal structure at the camp.

As they approached the house, they saw a fat guy sitting in a rocking chair on the porch.

"Is that Chiron?" Gem said.

Grover snorted. "No. That's Mr. D."

"What does the D stand for?"

"You'll have to ask him. But he doesn't like demigods, so be careful."

They saw that as they got closer.

"How many more little annoying idiots did you bring this time? Ten?" Mr. D snapped.

Grover froze. "Seven, sir."

"Still too many," Mr. D grumbled. "Then again, one is too many. How many more years, again?"

"Only a hundred years to go, sir."

Mr. D huffed.

Grover waited.

"What are you waiting for?" Mr. D snapped. "Get in there. I want these half-bloods out of my sight."

Grover nodded, bowed, muttered, "Yes, sir," and led the confused Hermits inside.

"Why are you bowing to that grumpy fat guy?" Zedaph asked, wide-eyed. "I don't bow to grumpy fat guys."

Grover paled. "Do not call him a grumpy fat guy."

The Hermits decided not to ask any more questions.

"Have a seat," Grover said. "Chiron'll be here in a minute."

The seven Hermits sat down and waited. There was an awkward silence that most of the Hermits tried to penetrate one by one, but failed.

Suddenly, the squeaking of a wheelchair came from the other room. A man rolled in, wearing a light grey T-shirt with a black hoofprint on it. A blue plaid blanket covered his legs, but his brown shoes poked put from under them.

He smiled warmly. "Hello. I suppose this is all very confusing to you."

"Who was the grumpy fat guy at the door?" Ren asked, ignoring Grover's frightened glance.

"I heard that!" Mr. D said from outside. "And so help me, I will turn you into a dolphin-"

"Are you Chiron?" Gem asked.

The man in the wheelchair nodded. "I am. And the one outside is Mr. D, our camp director. You'll learn to... tolerate him."

"I won't!" Mr. D complained. "I've been trying to learn to tolerate whiny little godlings for the past millennia!"

"If you want to be in this conversation, come inside and be in it," Chiron said calmly.

Mr. D did not respond.

"Okay then," Chiron said.

"Grumpy fat guy," Bdubs spat, as if it was the worst insult he could come up with.

"Shh, no," Grover whimpered.

The Hermits turned nervously back to Chiron. There was a long silence, even from the most friendly and talkative Hermits.

"Hi," Scar said finally.

"Hi," Tango said to him.

"I wasn't talking to you."

Tango snickered.

"I assume Grover told you that you are all demigods?" Chiron said.

The Hermits nodded.

"So you know that one of each of your parents was a Greek god."

There was a more diverse reply. Some Hermits nodded again. Some Hermits didn't show at all. And some Hermits (namely Ren) crossed their arms stubbornly.

"This was a lot easier when Annabeth was helping out," Chiron muttered. "Okay. Grover, could you get the documentary ready? Also, you can take off your shoes."

"I'd just thought I'd keep them on... you know, I'd wait until, like, after they know we exist..."

"That's fine," Chiron said.

Grover trotted into the other room. He walked with a bit of a limp, like he had gotten an injury that would never completely heal.

The bolder Hermits made small talk with Chiron for the next few minutes while Grover did... whatever he was doing. Then the nervous boy came back out.

The Hermits followed him into a room with a large TV. Grover looked around. "Okay, who wants the remote?"

Most of the Hermits started arguing over who got control over the pause button. Grian and Ren seemed to be wrestling each other. Scar, who sat next to Grian, joined in just for fun. Tango and Bdubs cheered the match on. Zedaph and Gem just stared.

"I'll give you reputation if I get the remote!" Scar yelled. "Also your armpit smells bad!"

"Hey!" Ren said. Zedaph carefully pulled him away from the fight.

"Just give him the remote," Gem sighed. "Please?"

Grover tossed Scar the remote. He held it up triumphantly and pressed the play button.

It was long after the documentary was over that the Hermits started to question how he had convinced them.