As the day before, I arrived late for dinner. Charitybelle and Fabulosa had already retired to the lounge when I joined them. Their fashionable outfits showed no consideration for utility. They usually wore more durable clothes, but their attire fit the Cross Keys, so I complimented them.

  “We bought lots of cute outfits.” Charitybelle gave me a guilty grin.

  I kissed her. “I’ve created a monster. That’s for sure. It’s a good thing we bought a heavy-duty cart.”

  Charitybelle playfully slapped Fabulosa’s arm. “Oh, we didn’t buy that many things. We got a lot of agricultural stuff like tools and seeds. Oh—we got seeds for flowers! I hope Forren’s fertility buff works on them. If they do, I’m going to grow a big flower garden, like they do in England. Flowers will brighten up the roundhouse. We’ll get more practical equipment tomorrow.”

  Fabulosa played with her frilly sleeves. “The difference between sexes isn’t that women wear high heels—it’s that if men wore them, they’d buy one pair and wear them until they broke.”

  I shook my head while the pair giggled. “That makes no sense.”

  Before I sat down, Charitybelle and Fabulosa peppered me with requests starting with the phrase, “While you’re up—”

  “While you’re up, could you bring more tea?”

  “While you’re up, could you bring me a cookie?”

  I catered to their wishes, bringing tea, pastries, napkins, and fruit.

  My legs felt sore, too, but I was a good sport. Their dresses made them feel girly, and there seemed no harm in playing along. “I’m sitting now. Once I’m down, I’m not getting anything else.”

  They thanked me for my chivalry as I settled onto a cushioned seat.

  Charitybelle sympathetically winced as I settled down. “How was the library? Bigger than Belden?”

  “Yes, but it packed a lot of fluffy books that Mr. Fergus wouldn’t have. Luckily, it had a lot more librarians. One of them led me to the book I needed. I spent most of my time reading about gnoll linguistics. I had no time to wander around, but it seemed more organized than Belden, that’s for sure.”

  Charitybelle reached over and held my hand. “At least, until you showed up.”

  Fabulosa rolled her eyes. “You two are nerdy as all git-out. Do you know that?”

  Charitybelle stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry.

  I offered a piece of parchment I used for notes, but neither moved to take it. “I got the correct location for whatever the gnolls and kobolds wanted.”

  Fabulosa stretched. “Is it a dungeon? That spider lair was a hoot.”

  Charitybelle nodded. “Yeah. I liked how it used galvanism to animate corpses—just like Frankenstein. But I want to see Fort Krek too. I can’t wait to build a ferry. Patch, you should have been at the meeting. These merchants here seem eager to help us.”

  I placed my hand on Charitybelle’s arm. “That’s great news, baby.” I couldn’t muster enough energy to think of anything else to say. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’m glad to have missed the discussion. City-building was fun, but like Fabulosa, I “hankered” for adventure.

  I hadn’t answered Fabulosa’s question. “I don’t know if these coordinates lead to another dungeon, but they’re near the temple where we fought demons. At least we know we can make the trip in a day.”

  Fabulosa rubbed her feet. “Ugh. Don’t talk about walking. Reading in a library sounds a lot easier than what we did.”

  Charitybelle nodded. “We gave up walking after seeing only a little of the garment district. We sent a gofer to pick up everything on the camp’s wish list. They’re gonna pack everything on our new cart for the trip back.”

  I saw sacks, boxes, and materials all lashed together. “Do they know we need room for the brewery equipment we’re picking up in Basilborough?”

  Charitybelle nodded. “Yeah, they’ll make space—it’s a huge wagon. They promised to pack it professionally, so we should be fine. Iris and Fletcher are bringing two heavy carts tomorrow. They hired some Grayton laborers for their mercenary hall.” She lifted her teacup in celebration.

  Fabulosa also raised her cup in a toasting gesture. “More folks for the camp means more folks following Forren, so we’ll get more favor to get another Hot Air sooner.”

  Charitybelle nodded. “We’ve already generated 396 favor points. Only 600 left for your Hot Air to be online.”

  “You should get it before me. I was slow to convert, so I’ll go next.”

  “No-no. You’ll use it more than me. You’re the better warrior.”

  Fabulosa replied in her cringeworthy British accent. “Up to you, gov’nah!”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Since I already could invoke Hot Air, the extra followers meant little to me. But extra citizens meant pushing Hawkhurst to level 2, giving us another mandate. If it gave as much power as Aggression, a potent upgrade awaited.

  We spent the following day in the saddle, pushing through the soreness in our legs. We familiarized ourselves with our horses by feeding, petting, and training them.

  The number of pointers and things to remember about owning horses felt like adopting another way of life. It reminded me of Lloyd’s tales of the sea, and I developed a healthy respect for the equestrian equivalent—horse sense. Knowing I wouldn’t be a liability during the return trip made me look forward to home. I couldn’t effectively fight while mounted but knew how to dismount quickly.

  We devoted our last day in Grayton to shopping. Rowan and I found a more reasonable price for the mithril chain mail—200 gold pieces each. He cleaned up my robe, which made for an excellent undergarment for the mithril vest. Charitybelle got a suit of banded mail, making her armor rating the highest. Armor didn’t affect light spells, pairing with her healing spells. We also purchased an assortment of regular longswords, short swords, axes, shields, and a grinding wheel to keep everything sharp.

  I picked up herbs, alchemy supplies, and a recipe for better health and mana potions. I bought ingredients for stat potions. Making them helped rank up my skill, but I doubted I’d ever use them, preferring the more versatile boosts to health and mana.

  We bought more textiles and tailoring equipment. And with every garment store, Charitybelle’s and Fabulosa’s outfits improved. The color-coordinated undergarments complemented their armor’s filigree. I agreed whenever they asked if I thought something looked cute, and whenever they offered me the choice of two garments, I always gave the same answer—“I like them both.”

  Charitybelle purchased a kit to make name collars for her steed and pets. The decorative gems possessed no value but sparkled in the sunlight. She bought a jeweled identity band for Chloe’s leg, but it paled compared to what she had in store for her poor badger. In her palm rested a crystal-studded collar bearing Bruno’s name.

  “Baby, I hope you’re not too disappointed if your animals don’t want to wear these things.”

  Charitybelle acted unfazed by my doubts. She studied the gems. “Don’t worry. They’ll like them.”

  We packed another drafting table so Charitybelle and Greenie could work side by side. I guessed it might be too bulky for our journey, but Charitybelle found room on our giant new wagon. We picked everything up at the wainwright guild and coordinated our departure to Basilborough with Iris and Fletcher Sternway.

  Their pick of mercenaries impressed me. Besides being capable soldiers, most served as military engineers—a fancy way of saying they dug ditches and built field structures like earthworks. The Sternways drove two carts of equipment and a complement of mercenaries.

  A guild hall wasn’t a civic structure, so building it and support structures wouldn’t affect the settlement’s construction schedule. As a commercial enterprise, they consumed their own rations and supplies, making the guild more or less autonomous.

  For the second time in the game, we formed a triple-cart caravan. Instead of accompanying dwarves and a goblin, we traveled with 15 humans, including Iris and Fletcher. With 13 newcomers, we didn’t search for workers to join us. We’d already outgrown our camp’s facilities and didn’t want to risk cramped conditions lowering morale.

  It took us over a day to reach Basilborough by road. While half of our company had horses, the others traveled on foot, so our progress moved no faster than walking speed. Midway, we stayed at an outpost along the road at night, giving us an idea of how many people it required to operate. The frontier establishments housed an entire staff to support its satellite buildings, accommodating not only guests but cooks, stable hands, servers, maids, barkeep, and owners. Building one ourselves seemed beyond our capability, for a wilderness outpost would also need guards against brigands and goblins.

  The subject of inns had come up before. Iris mentioned there would be a demand for them between Hawkhurst and Basilborough because not every merchant wanted to sleep outside. Establishing outposts sounded like more hassle than we could handle, so Charitybelle told the guilds to build whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted. The land between Basilborough and Hawkhurst stood free to all.

  We stayed half a day in Basilborough. Charitybelle, Fletcher, and Iris spread the news about the trade route and received endorsements from the local officials, community leaders, and burgermeisters. While we rested in town, we picked up our brewery equipment. So many copper tanks, pipes, vats, and cauldrons filled our cart that Fletcher made room on his wagon to accommodate the equipment we couldn’t carry. With so many soldiers around, the dwarves weren’t the only ones looking forward to a local brewery. Luckily, we’d bought enough canvas to cover everything.

  We filled the leftover space with more kegs of ale. Their weight concerned me, but the wainwrights assured me their carts and draft animals measured up to the task.

  Like the iron torodon vehicles we swiped from the goblins, the carts made lots of noise. Unlike their screeching metallic counterparts, the woody groans and creaks soothed us, reminiscent of lapping water against a flatboat. They sounded wholesome and reassuring.

  For the most part, our return journey to Hawkhurst wasn’t eventful. I spammed Animal Communion, and Jasper didn’t balk when we passed a pack of turkey-sized velociraptors. Accompanied by so many guards, the dinosaurs stayed at bay and silently watched our passage.

  We moved fallen logs along the route while the mercenaries rotated on machete detail. Instead of going around obstacles and thick underbrush, we chopped wide paths for future caravans.

  Whether fortune decreed a safe passage or our increased numbers, neither the goblins nor the kobolds made an appearance. Traveling with so many warriors also made sleeping outside an option. Soldiers took two-hour shifts guarding the camp while everyone else slept by the campfire.

  Iris and Fletcher declined our offer to take turns in the camp’s night watch. They wanted their people to earn their keep and advised that we didn’t share in the grunt work.

  Their preference touched on a question about leadership that embarrassed me to ask. I thought it sensible to show your subordinates you were one of them. But Iris acted as if this undermined authority and decision-making. She’s been a captain at Fort Krek, so I deferred to her expertise.

  Charitybelle managed her pets while we traveled to Hawkhurst. Having Chloe at our disposal almost felt like cheating. On horseback, Charitybelle could close her eyes and scan for threats in the area without slowing down. She summoned Bruno whenever we stopped to rest or set up camp, but the animal’s foul temperament made him poor company. Instead, she let him wander off to hunt.

  At last, Hawkhurst Meadow greeted us with open space and direct sunlight. When we crossed the town’s perimeter, Charitybelle and I received updates about new blueprints.

  My girlfriend cried out when she received the good news. “Guess what, Fab? The dwarves finished the town hall! That unlocks a whole bunch of blueprints.”

  Fabulosa, who rolled a log out of our way, grunted and politely nodded.

  I applauded Fabulosa’s effort, but she appeared too tired to feign interest. She seemed happier that the Basilborough-Hawkhurst leg of our journey had ended. Clearing a path wide enough for carts involved backbreaking labor, and it exhausted everyone except Charitybelle, whose enthusiasm for base-building showed no signs of waning.