The two things I noticed about the settlement interface were its population and accumulated favor. Hawkhurst’s 258 citizens put us halfway to tier 3. Over a hundred people had joined the town since I’d left for the south. I expected family members of the Fort Krek soldiers to join us, but I never thought so many people would come during my 134-day absence.

  Oddly, we’d accumulated only 94 favor per day, meaning immigrants weren’t adopting Forren as their patron deity. Our accrued favor wasn’t enough to rush projects, but we needed it for Glowing Coals during times of crisis. That we hadn’t spent it yet spoke to Hawkhurst’s security and prosperity.

  But Glowing Coals was old news—my newest toy, Holy Smoke, made me incorporeal and materialized me in Forren’s temple. The temple stood behind our castle walls, next to the orrery. Invoking it showed me how the new blessing worked.

  Holy Smoke stripped me of my senses, and I turned into a strange cloud. At first, the silence gave me the impression of time dilation, like the interface freezing the world. Waves on the lake undulated, but I couldn’t hear or feel the wind against me. I wasn’t bilious like smoke but ethereal like ink suspended in water.

  Instead of drifting in the breeze, like Fabulosa with her cape, a force pulled me toward the temple. The world blurred, and I sensed no movement through time, space, and matter. None of my interface features worked, nor did my powers. I drifted through the temple’s walls and felt sensations against my back. I lay on the altar, rested as if awoken from a deep sleep.

  Reconstituting in Forren’s new temple felt a little like an uncontrolled Slipstream, and the blessing’s description confirmed that I could only activate it once a day within the boundaries of Hawkhurst, potentially a game-changer during a siege or perhaps against another player.

  Though our workers had finished the temple the day after my departure, I’d not seen it without scaffolding wrapping around it. Its austere interior seemed almost too sparse. The structure housed our altar and Forren’s idol, featuring an enormous fireplace. Its elevated hearth held offerings like bundles of flowers, personal tokens, bowls of water, saucers of oil, seeds, and herbs.

  Unlike graveside leavings, none of the vegetation had withered, and some seeds spouted into small tangles of roots and plant life. Plants and herbs filled the space with a potpourri aroma. Forren’s temple needed no incense.

  I recognized the ever-burning candelabras we took from the tree druid. Someone fixed the flaming sticks to the walls, and their light added a cheery green to the blue masonry. They spouted leaves and small flowers—undoubtedly from Forren’s influence. The temple’s stone walls supported a half-ceiling that opened like a courtyard to the sky.

  Beaker watched me from the temple’s rooftop while his voice entered my mind. “New perches!”

  “You like the open ceiling, eh? It’s the perfect door for you.”

  “New perches!” Beaker squawked before flying upward, letting me know the perches he crowed about had nothing to do with a lowly temple. He flew to the parapets, thrilled by the prospect of watching Hawkhurst’s citizenry from high vantages.

  Iris appeared in the temple’s doorway with a baby in her arms. “Oh, hi, Apache. When did you return?” I almost didn’t recognize her without armor and uniform.

  “I just got back. Is this your newest guild member?” The question seemed important enough to ask, even though a nameplate reading Ian Sternway hovered over the baby’s head.

  Iris beamed and relieved her burden on the floor next to a bowl of seeds that had captured her son’s attention. “This is Ian, though he’s hardly our guild’s newest member. However, he’s getting too big to carry anymore. It serves me right to visit Forren so often.”

  Ian curled his little finger around the wooden bowl and clunked it against the rock floor, spilling the seeds.

  “He’ll be two months old tomorrow.”

  “He seems big.”

  “Forren grows him faster than a weed, and he’s smart, too. Ally says he’ll slow down his growth spurt when he starts talking.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m good. Lloyd took Otto and Gretchen to deliver materials to East Shore. He likes the new ferry so much that he won’t let anyone else pilot it.”

  “Wasn’t that why he built it in the first place—for other people to control it?”

  Iris laughed. “Supposedly. He wants to make sure the kids will take care of it before he lets them solo it. He says Otter Lake winds are too fair to teach proper sailing. I suppose he’s getting as much time on the water before he hangs up his deck shoes.”

  “Are the Arlington folks finally getting their fishing vessel?”

  Iris nodded while pulling young Ian away from a bowl of water. “But Grayton farmers insist on using it to haul bird droppings from Flatrock Island. They want it for fertilizer. I’m arbitrating an agreement between them and the fishers over sharing the boat. Anyway, the shipyard is busy. Lloyd is helping them with the hull, but he’s probably driving them crazy.”

  “Have I missed anything?”

  Iris rolled her eyes and gestured to the altar. “You picked the right deity. Everything’s growing in all directions—and it’s not just Forren’s influence. Caravans show up every few days—sometimes twice a day. Ida’s doing her best to space out arrivals, but I’m trying to escort them together to economize our use of guards.”

  “Same old Hawkhurst, one half working against the other.”

  Iris grinned. “It’s not so bad. I’m just maximizing what personnel I have available. We’re expecting eight more immigrants tomorrow—including two more guards for the route.”

  “Is the guild growing too?”

  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t know it. We’re up to 20 people now, but everyone is so busy the guild house stands empty most of the time. Basilborough and Fort Krek enjoy the extra traffic. They’ve relaxed their land-owning policies to keep their citizens. Fort Krek has two more inns.”

  “Have there been goblin or orc attacks?”

  “A wagon train made contact with goblins a month ago, but no one was hurt. It’s been quiet since. Yula found orc artifacts on Iremont a few months ago, but she says they were remnants of a scouting party. They haven’t returned, so she’s unconcerned.”

  “But orcs know we’re here.”

  “Yula says the orcs seek nothing on this side of the river. Besides, their main theater of combat lies in Arweald. News from Krek reports of waning orc activity because of hostilities in Arweald. It serves the orcs right—anyone tangling with elves has a death wish.”

  I grunted at the good news.

  Iris returned her attention to Ian, who knocked over a saucer of herbs.

  “It’s good to see you, Iris, and congratulations on your baby. I’ll leave you guys alone. I’ve got a lieutenant governor to thank.”

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  Iris focused on her toddler while she spoke. “It’s good to have you back, Apache, or should I say Governor? I’ll see you around.”

  I enjoyed hearing Iris call me Apache instead of Governor. I suppose that, with Iris running the show, people might not associate me with the title so much. That didn’t bother me one bit.

  Leaving the temple afforded me a breathtaking view of the castle surrounding me. Nearby, the construction crew focused on the castle’s third and final wall. I counted more humans than dwarves on the project. Two dozen workers used long, wooden levers to raise a block of blue granite inches at a time—barely enough to slide wooden supports beneath the heavy stone. After adjusting the scaffolding surrounding the stone, they incrementally lifted the granite again—eventually to whatever height the blueprints required. Work teams worked on four blocks at once, and even after only a few minutes, I appreciated the process’s efficiency.

  In six days, the finished structure would notch Hawkhurst’s security rating from 95 to 100 percent, completing Charitybelle’s original vision. Its formidable profile rivaled Fort Krek’s, though it blocked my view of the town, a vista I’d grown accustomed to seeing every morning. Instead, a blue wall of granite obscured it.

  To the east, a great hall spanned the gap between the manor and another new structure—a gatehouse. As the walls obstructed my view of the city, these three buildings blocked views of the river.

  Though visiting the great hall tempted me, I needed to check in with Ida. When Beaker spotted me heading to the manor, he swooped from his perch on the city wall and circled to the lakeside windows to roost on the sill and greet me.

  Cries of alarm rang the manor. Though I quickened my step, I entered with a grin.

  Three unfamiliar and frightened dwarves greeted me inside.

  “Don’t worry. Beaker’s a good boy. He likes to see what’s going on.”

  They nodded dumbly, unsure about the griffon parked on the windowsill.

  A dwarf named Runar Anvilhead, who I didn’t recognize, acknowledged my presence with balled fists. He blocked the stairs to the manor’s upstairs apartments. He only acknowledged me after ascertaining the griffon had no intentions of coming further inside. “Can I help, ye, lad?”

  The dwarves hadn’t called me lad since we rescued them from the mine. My avatar had barely aged, and this dwarf wasn’t very old, evidenced by a beard no longer than a goatee.

  Since NPCs didn’t see nameplates, I cut him some slack. “I’m the new governor—or rather, the old governor. Is Ida around?”

  Another dwarf I didn’t know, named Levina Copperpot, stood from what used to be Greenie’s drafting table—eyes wide. “So he is! I didn’t know Ida demoted herself. Usually, she tells us about changes as important as a new governor.”

  A dwarven clerk my age pushed his chair away from his desk and bowed. “Apologies, Governor Apache. We heard about you from practically everyone!”

  Runar’s eyes widened, but I stayed his apologies with a gesture.

  Ida emerged from Fabulosa’s old apartment and came down the stairs slower than I remember her ever walking before. She wasn’t limping, but her bent posture implied little more than old age. “Governor Apache, welcome back.”

  “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

  Ida looked at the clerks’ desks. “I put Levina at Greenie’s old station. It made sense. She’s in charge of land management and needs the desk space. Runar tracks work hours, the free market, and food, and Gage is our liaison officer with the Sternways—a glorified gofer, but he’s learning the ropes.”

  “No. I wasn’t talking about the manor. I meant Hawkhurst. The new towers and walls.”

  Ida dismissively waved when she reached the ground floor. “Ah, that. That’s Ally and Maggy’s doing. I suppose they’re just following Greenie’s design, but I have little to do with it. It takes so long to build a tower I spend my time fielding petitions from citizens on what to build next. We have a long line of requests.”

  “I know I’ve been gone for almost five months, but I thought castles took longer to build.”

  “That’s Mags, for ya. She and the girls have a system for raising quarry stones to a higher place along the wall. They’re halfway through the last wall. I’ll show you around if you’re interested.”

  “I am. But how are things?”

  Ida arched her eyebrow at the question, echoing how she used to regard me.

  “I mean, is there anything I can help with?”

  “After you settle in, you can handle petitions. That will give me a chance to catch up on municipal budgets.” Ida held her hand to stave off questions and sat by the manor table.

  The clerks returned to their desks while Ida cleared piles of parchment from the conference table.

  “Before we get to that, let’s go over broad strokes. First off, are there any emergencies I should know about?”

  After a moment of thought, Ida shook her head. “We’re winding down our defensive buildings. The merchants fuss like their hair is on fire, but otherwise. Riley says we’re on schedule.”

  “Riley?”

  “Oh, that’s Ally’s gofer. He splits his time between the dockyard, woodshop, and construction site.”

  I grunted at hearing the new name. Nearly doubling the town’s size meant new faces, so I mentally girded myself for introductions. News of merchants in Hawkhurst piqued my interest, but not enough to change the subject. “Why are people fussing?”

  Ida took a deep breath before answering. “Boardwalks are in high demand. People ransack the work crew’s lumber to bridge the muddiest parts of town—and I can’t say that I blame them.”

  “It sounds bad.”

  “It’s worse. Planks won’t let two people cross from opposite ends. When groups on opposing sides want to cross simultaneously, it creates awkward situations, and tempers run hot when people lose track of the turn order. It’s worse when workers try to make it to the construction site on time.”

  I grunted at the news. Who knew mud would be an obstacle in a fantasy game?

  “It’ll be better when summer arrives, but the spring rains aren’t doing us any favors.”

  “I can queue boardwalks for the next project after the last wall finishes. What else do people want to build?”

  “Captain Jourdain and Yula want two outer walls. An earthworks and palisade.”

  “Around the city?”

  Ida nodded. “It’s hard to say no when both agree about defensive structures. The only benefit I can see to them is they’ll bump the town’s security rating over 100—which is rare for a settlement so small. We’re fielding petitions. Besides boardwalks, a public bathhouse and a tannery are high among the requests. But a bathhouse requires a clayworks.”

  The work crew’s efficiency in building a wall reached only 65 percent, which seemed low. I checked the interface detailing our town’s morale rating.

  I expected an influx of immigrants to drop the culture rating. The great hall and temple had helped, but not as much as building a few parks. Adding parks to the building queue remedied the problem, so I focused on the settlement’s most recent drop—health.

  Hawkhurst’s health rating used to be near 100 percent.

  Focusing on health factors, I could see the mud’s influence on the comfort rating. Luckily, boardwalks weren’t time-intensive structures, so fixing the work crew’s morale wouldn’t take too long.

  Ida continued. “They say you have a Dig spell to expedite the town walls. Yula said it would keep out monsters, dissuade thieves, and help us regulate traffic.”

  “She’s right, and I can channel Dig more efficiently with my sword now. I can make headway on defensive perimeters while the work crew focuses on the boardwalk.”

  Ida counted off issues on her fingers. “We’ll need wood for the palisade. There’s debate on how far to extend the fence. The farmers want their homes inside the wall, but that’s unfeasible, and I priced their parcels to reflect this.”

  “Protecting farms is a luxury we can’t afford right now. They can fall back to the castle. Besides, all their buildings fall under the town’s Protection bonus. Who’s going to waste energy razing a farmhouse?”

  Ida nodded. “Exactly. Maybe they’ll take the news better from a warrior.”

  I nodded. “I’ll handle it.” As much as I enjoyed the sight of an unspoiled meadow, a protective fence around the whole town might raise morale. Controlling who entered Hawkhurst appealed to me, especially after Uproar’s plea to attack us. Players had a thousand ways to circumvent a short city wall, but in doing so, they’d call attention to themselves.

  I’d figured out how to rig Detect Stealth magic into a rune to trigger an alarm. Assuming that I could do the same with a Detect Magic rune wasn’t unreasonable. I enjoyed the image of enemy contestants getting caught trying to sneak in. That’s right, Uproar, hop on over my walls, and we’ll see who has the element of surprise.