"It's a counterpost to a credit post and that makes it a debit post. See? It's like a double negative." Scratch demonstrated the accounting process on an upright piece of slate. It sat against the boarded up well in the courtyard.

"Double... what is a double?" One of his youngest asked.

The class consisted of seven hobgoblins and a troll. Ada, Felix and Jasper, who were already fully grown. The new hobgoblins were still smaller than fully grown regular goblins, they had the fat faces of toddlers. Their mother had named them Will, Trevor, Piers and Constantine and they had no conception of the outside world from which these names derived.

The troll was smaller than them still. Despite being older she was still an infant, although a full set of pointy teeth had come through.

Absolutely none of the students were making a genuine effort at understanding the material. Their slates and chalk were tossed before them and they spend their time zoning out and looking at clouds.

"What's the point of this, we're never going to use any of this!" Ada complained.

"One day, Ada, you will need to disguise stolen treasure as legal revenue. On that day you'll thank me."

"Nuh-uh." She flat out contradicted him. "We're goblins. We can't disguise being goblins."

He impatiently tapped his foot on the stone tiles.

Everything the kids had learned up till now had come to them naturally. Language they picked up in a day, martial arts was purely a matter of muscle memory, even magic to the extend that they could achieve it was simple. But this was different, numbers were not necessary for survival, and bookkeeping was abstract. This was one area for which he needed them to be disciplined and conscientious.

"It's a matter of personal development." He stated as authoritatively as he could.

"Bleh." She leaned back and gagged at the concept.

"Can we leave?" Felix moaned. "I have to do the skins and sharpen the blades today."

Will and Trevor had already gotten up and were wrestling each other.

"Fine, but take your little brothers with you. Show them how it's done. I'll look after Bree while you do, where is she?"

-

The troll infant was perfectly capable of keeping up with the walking pace of a goblin.

Her arms had grown faster than the rest of her body, and her crawl had turned into a series of bouncy hops, as she launched herself forward with her powerful limbs.

It seemed to Scratch rather dog-like how she followed him around on all fours.

"We're off to meet out friends at the depot," he told her as they strolled through the tiled street of the Promise, "can you say that Bree? De-Pot."

"Deepo!" She pushed through her large fangs. She was only learning a few words a day, much slower than the hobgoblins.

"Close enough." Scratch shrugged.

It wasn't quite a bustling city street, but the main road was quite busy. Human bandits were building communal homes and workshops near the warehouses. Goblin help was cheap, the kids weren't particularly wise negotiators and would put in a day's work for pocket change. They made up for it by being shirkers and easily distracted.

As a consequence, the street was filled with cargo sleds and busy feet. The two had to dodge the workers as they made their way towards the gate.

"Can you say traffic congestion? Tra-ffic."

"In a teaching mood, Scratch?" Barbara was leaning against the outside of her little shop and saw them arrive.

"As long as anybody's in a learning mood." He responded.

Bree rushed forward and jumped up and down and around the goblin mother, who immediately backed away.

I should invest in a leash. He thought to himself.

-

"Your furniture is in the tall warehouse," she explained once inside, "you can pick it up today."

"How much do I owe ya?"

While they were discussing business Bree was climbing the boxes and racks behind the counter, lifting up boxes and opening up jars.

"I've subtracted it from the salt and wood profits. With the fees for the transports you get...." she carefully stacked the coins on the counter

"...six gold."

He smiled. "Now I know my good friend Barbara would never skim me."

"Uh, hehe. That's rounded down of course." She tossed some silver and copper alongside it.

He scooped it up and stored it in a pocket in his long sleeve, without counting.

"With how long it took her to get those mattresses together, you might has well have had them smuggled in from the city." She mentioned.

"Tree-home houses some friends and family of ours. We'd like to support them."

Barbara frowned. "You have money enough, you could give them anything they need. But you're having them make beds for you in exchange."

"Exactly. Building up a bed-making industry. One day they'll be shipping out beds to all over the forest."

She put her elbows on her desk. "If you say so. Sounds like you're making this more complicated than it needs to be."

Scratch shrugged, "that's society. If it weren't complicated, people would get bored of it. Bree, let's go, we're of to feed the doggies."

"Wait." Barbara reached under her desk. "I forgot to give you these yesterday. That weird owl brought them." With a loud slam she lifted a closed wooden crate onto the table.

Scratch stood on his tippy toes to lift up the lid. Inside were stacks upon stacks of small paper ribbons, each with words inscribed on them. "An owl carried this thing? It looks like it's, like, forty kilos."

She did not answer his question, "it's spellpaper. They're magic items for remote spellcasting."

"Watchu talking about?"

She fished one out. "The thieves' guild used these for traps. The writing on top contains a stored spell, once they're activated the paper burns up and the spell releases."

"... It stores a spell? What spell?"

"I don't know, I can't read magic runes. I'm not a mage."

Scratch stretched his body. "Well I can't carry this. I'll send somebody by to pick it up."

-

When they left the shop Scratch noticed Bree was chewing on something.

"What is that liquorice root? Did you steal that?"

Bree nodded enthusiastically and offered him a saliva drenched taste from her own mouth.

"...None for me, thanks. Make sure you don't get caught stealing things."

With some help from the kids the new furniture was moved in. Bed frames, tables, and chairs. All made out of stubby tarred wood, usable though inelegant.

The second floor was dedicated entirely to dormitories. The hobgoblins had their own bedrooms at the ends of the U-shape, but there were more rooms with hang mats for goblins that couldn't fit a spot in the cave.

The ground floor served every other need. Anything requiring water pressure stood at ground level, where it could make use of the water tower, including not one but two water closets. Tiled rooms sporting elegant flushable bowls. There was also a kitchen, close to the ground for goblin workhands, but large in terms of area. It was big enough for minor industrial purposes, feeding the masses down below and exporting to the colonies.

There was one bedroom on that bottom floor, a two person bed close enough to the front door and the cave entrance to respond to an emergency. The master bedroom that the parent couple had given themselves.

It was too large for its purpose, sporting only a double sized bed and a hamper for clothes. At the moment there were no cabinets or shelves to make it feel complete. The bare wood stood out and made it look empty.

Yet the couple were intensely satisfied with the results.

Laying on her back and staring at the ceiling Lydia Harkness felt with her hands were Scratch was laying beside her. "It's been almost a decade since I've slept in a soft bed. It feels... nostalgic."

"We're getting back our dignity," Scratch said, "no more sleeping on the ground like animals. We're becoming civilized."

She paused at his words. "... You always seemed dignified to me, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

He grabbed her hand and played with her fingers. "Poverty is humiliating, I can't stand it. Whatever happens, whatever I have to do... I can't be poor. I refuse."

Now she rolled over to look at him. "Scratchy. You started out with nothing. No education and no estate. But many times you've been wiser and more leader-like than me. You've done nothing but rise, I'm... so proud of you."

"You know I wasn't always-" a lump formed in his throat, in that tender moment he had almost wanted her to know him intimately, but a trepidation formed inside him that was almost like fear. Too much honesty isn't healthy, he thought to himself, let's not play with my cards facing outwards.

"Wasn't....?" She inquired.

"I wasn't- that is to say I was- Was wondering whether you can read magic runes."

"Huh?"

"A fresh face I see. I haven't seen you around here before." The guest had lingered among the statues and the preacher too the opportunity to have a talk.

The guest put his hands together and gave a slight bow. "Indeed I am new to this parish father. My name is Soren, a cobbler. Having lost my family to a fire, I left Linefort and came to Eston for a new start."

The rehearsed story would have pricked up the ears of anybody looking out for suspicious characters. But the priest did not raise an eyebrow.

"Are you admiring our gallery?"

The guest looked out over the row of gods adoring the temple wing, they were bland and near featureless. Each one had the same pose, a straight back, staring ahead, and the arms to the side. The only thing differentiating them were some token expressions of gender and the items clutched in their fists.

"I was. It's..." he tried to think of a compliment, "tranquil?"

"Hhm. Tranquil indeed, sometimes I think our little church is here more to bless adventurers than it is to..." he trailed off, "just this week I blessed a party of kids. Truly, kids, barely had all their teeth. They were setting out for the witchwood, escorting some witch apprentice. Have you heard about the woodlands? Something sinister is brewing there, a stinking darkness that stains the ground." He shook his head to banish the sombre thoughts. "Anyhow, you're not impressed with the statues, are you?"

"Well..."

"They're not quite the life-like marble you might see in the south. But they're dependable, any of these pillars can channel the image of the gods as well as the Grienician colossi, I tell you that. You know, she takes confessions."

"Benesant does?" The other looked at the statue in front of them, a woman holding a flaming wreath and a sword.

"Indeed she does." The preacher spoke gravely. "You do know the power all gods share, to inhabit their likeness and through that visit our plane. Her worshipers can speak to her from here."

Soren laughed nervously. "Father. I cannot hope for my words to be worth her time."

"You were correct."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The flaming wreath and the judiciary sword. Those are the relics that channel Benesant's image. The ascetic style has fallen out of favor in the past century, I learned the relics as an acolyte but they'd slipped my mind, you jogged it. This one is Benesant."

Soren audibly swallowed. A cobbler from the capital shouldn't be that versed in theology. The priest had stopped just short of calling him a liar in front of the goddess' visage, but he'd made it very clear that he saw through his story.

"I'm sorry," the priest continued, "what did you say your name was? Stan?"

"Soren." Stanford answered.

"Soren. Of course, you're already good friends with some of my parishioners."

As a matter of fact he hadn't acquainted himself with any of his new civilian neighbours yet. He had taken the first opportunity to visit a church in close to a decade as soon as possible.

"I do warn you about bad influences. I wouldn't want you to get stained with any... stinking darkness."

Stanford side-eyed him. "Is there something you want of me?"

The priest smiled and began to walk off. "We're a peaceful community. All we want is to stay out of trouble, you won't be trouble, will you?"

"I won't." But the man had already left.

Stanford, or Soren, put his hat back on to leave the temple. The warning had been sobering, he was still connected to the criminal underworld, and in Eston even the clergy was implicated enough to know about it.

Just how much does the Thieves' Guild control? He wondered to himself.

BANG!

"Hahaaa!"

Huckabee was beside himself with joy seeing the rock and ore blast away. It was the most fun he'd had in months.

The spellpaper stuck neatly to the rock face and could be activated with a trivially small amount of mana from within sight. When he did the paper lit up into flame and the stone behind it burst into shards, which collapsed on each other and outwards into a chest-shaking bang.

As the knight had been able to determine the evening before, the magic on the spellpaper was earth magic. Meant to collapse stone formations.

"Okay okay, next one." The bandit waved his hobgoblin helpers over to clear away the rubble.

They were clearing out the space around the wolf den, near where the lift led down to the caverns. More of the underground river had been laid bare and they had created another shore on the other side. The wolves themselves had fled the noise, the birds had been moved out beforehand, and the den was empty now.

The only things left were the wooden flooring with its wolfbed indentatioins, some proper lanterns that had been brought in for the humans to see, and Scratch and Lydia Harkness at the far side of the room.

"I'm keeping my eye on them because I don't trust the kids with the bombs." He told her.

"I don't trust Huckabee with them." She said.

They watched Trevor test the limits of his strength far beyond what they actually were. He was attempting to lift a menhir of shiny rock his on size on his back. The boy was almost fully grown for a hobgoblin now.

"Does this stuff get used for weapons?" Scratch wondered out loud, referring to the explosive magic.

"Magic spells are cheaper and easier to use in a battle," Harkness told him, "it's for utility. Like mining. Lacrima must have listened to you."

"That witch... she's suspicious as all hell."

"Scratch. Lacrima isn't the one operating a dungeon. We are."

"We?"

"Yes. We." She was taking joint responsibility for the caves of monsters that they relied upon.

He leaned back and looked up at her. "Those troll creatures keep showing up at the lower level, they flung themselves at the wall a few times. I don't want to give up that floor-"

BANG!

"Of course not." She continued the conversation unfazed. "We need the dockyard to make it through the winter."

"But..." he trailed off suggestively. There was a but coming.

Lydia Harkness had a liking to Bree, she didn't like to see Scratch treat her so much like a tool. He wanted to use her as a way to manipulate the trolls.

"Bree is just a child."

He nodded, giving her a token concession was good practice in getting his way. That's what the demon had taught him. "But she won't be for long... Have you thought about their future at all?"

His modern sensibilities envisioned the hobgoblins and trolls moving out to be independent, starting little kingdoms of her own. But her worldview was much different.

"Their future is with us. You still think a person's destiny is to be an island, but it's not. We're a family, you know about families right?"

She was condescending him again. He didn't like it when she condescended him. "I know about your family. I know about my family. I'd like to think there's a middle ground somewhere."

Sensing a growing coldness between them she moved in a bit. "Let's-"

BANG!

"Let's wait until she's grown, at least."

"Of course we will," he stroked her arm, "you worry too much you know. Your heart's too big."

The explosions were close enough to breach the surface, and the older hobgoblins heard a muffled rumbling in their beds.

With the manor finished the hobgoblins now had two communal rooms, one for each generation.

They each took up the end of a wing on the second floor and had windows on three sides. The frames held many smaller glass panes, each as thick as it was wide, creating a checkerboard pattern of light.

Only during late afternoon and the evening would sunlight shine directly into the rooms, but being subhumans they were able to see perfectly well in relative gloom.

"Are ya gonna wake up?" Ada asked Jasper, who tightly gripped his bed frame during the vibrations.

"Never," he insisted, "I have found what I like to do most of anything and it's laying in this bed."

The beds were new. Cloth mattresses filled with feathers and straw, the softest objects to ever enter the Promise.

"Not under my reign!" She began jumping on his bed.

"Noooo!" Jasper whined as he was tossed up and down by the bouncing. "Stoooop!"

"I'm the king of the bedroom, nobody can sleep in my kingdom!" Ada yelled.

In the doorpost of the room stood Quiet, awkwardly waiting for a chance to interrupted them and ask for some silence. Only one thin wall separated them from the goblins that had been in charge of the night-shift trying to sleep. "Uhm-uh..." He raised his finger when a pack of newborn wolf pups rushed into the room and knocked him over.

They were play-fighting with two of the younger hobgoblins, Piers and Constantine. The boys were almost fully grown but still threw themselves on wolf backs and wrestled with the smallest ones on occasion.

"Stop him! He's got the winner's rope!" Piers shouted. Whoever had the winner's rope was winning the game for as long as they kept a hold of it.

The black furred dog holding the rope in its jaws triumphantly jumped on Ada's head and off again before she could react. He dashed from corner to corner of the room on the wings of gusts of wind, he was a windwolf.

Everybody in the sleeping quarters united into a single coordinated team, boxing in all escape routes and standing ready to grasp him.

"Yes!" "Oh-no!" "Stop!" They shouted over each other trying to bring down the champion together.

Quiet, rather disgruntled now, pulled himself to his feet. The house was louder and busier than ever, an outsider hearing the ruckus would probably expect to see a battle to the death going on.

Just was he was about to say something he was knocked to the side again by Bree, now his own height, storming into the room. She'd invited herself the game but with her hobbling walk hadn't been able to keep up. "Waitwait. Wait for me."

The target dashed between Ada's legs, who took it out on the youngest, "shut up Bree, you're ruining everything," and threw a pillow at her.

"Nono. 'S not true! No!" The immature troll slammed the pillow into the ground, rupturing it and sending feathers everywhere.

Then the game turned into an argument as everybody talked over each other, the wolves as well as the goblins, as both understood each other's words.

"Everybody QUI-ET!" The normally demure little goblin bellowed furiously over the yelling children.

They all went completely silent. For some of them this was the first time they'd heard his voice.

"Go play outside." He hissed coldly.

Jasper was about to protest, "but I-"

"Now."

So shocking and severe was his outburst they everybody drooped off with their heads down.

-

Having been thrown out of the house the kids ended up loitering in the Promise's single street. They looked a bit intimidating as a mob of monsters bounding around the slate.

"Don't follow us Bree. You ruin everything." Ada demanded.

"Do not. Do not!" The troll denied it.

"Uhh do nooot" Her sister mocked her with a dumb voice.

Frustrated but unable to express it properly Bree made a whining noise and smashed her large forearms into the ground, cracking the stone.

One of the wolf pups yapped, offended at the destruction of property.

"Let's play tag." Jasper suggested. The game had once been introduced or at least named by Scratch a long time ago, but that origin was shrouded in obscurity now. It had seen a lot of transference before ending up with the current generation.

"Me too. Me too. " Bree insisted.

"Fine, then you're it. Tag." Everybody scattered away from the girl, who looked around in confusion.

"You've got to touch somebody else to make them it." Ada shouted at her.

But knowing the rules didn't help Bree much, since she was a lot slower than everybody else. They could keep ahead of her with a slight jog.

At first she whined about nobody letting her win, but that only caused the others to mock her and Ada to imitate her voice. But after a few minutes she began to develop a technique, by slowing down and lulling the others into a false sense of security she could goad them to come closer. Then she would use her arms to suddenly leap forwards, a sudden burst of speed that the others couldn't manage.

This trick did get her a bit closer to tagging someone every time she tried it. She could probably swat at the tail of one of the less tactically aware pups, but she had her eyes set on somebody else. Smug Ada. If she could beat her that would invalidate all the mean words she had for her.

Running back and forth over the whole town she finally thought she'd corned her near a construction site. Some of the bandits had come together to build a three story brick apartment together, the wooden framework was there but not all of the walls yet.

Bree attempted another of her signature sudden leaps, but Ada deftly stepped away and the troll crashed headfirst onto a thick wooden beam, splintering it like it was a matchstick. The entire structure toppled on top of her, untold tons of brick and metal converged directly on top of her and buried her in debris.

"Ah! No!" Ada yelled out in shock, she thought the girls was annoying but she hadn't wanted for her to die.

"Bree! Bree!" Jasper jumped on top of the pile and began to shovel off bits of debris. It seemed fruitless, no living being could have survived a barrage like that.

Miraculously he was thrown off by sliding material and Bree emerged from the rubble with only a few bruises and cuts.

The whole group cheered like she won a football game. Jasper hugged her head and began to apply healing magic.

Bree didn't quite understand what was happening, but she enjoyed the attention.

They didn't get to cheer for long as Aimone came running in a mad frenzy at the destruction. "Mannagia! What have you putas done? You monsters! I'll kill you!" He was nearly foaming at the mouth.

The pups growled aggressively but fled and hid as he came closer.

"Buzz off," Ada spat, "you're not the boss. Our mom's your boss. Get lost."

A dagger of ice appeared in Aimone's hand. "Nobody could blame me... they're monsters. Nobody would-"

Gildo surprised him from behind and held him back. "Aimone, no. We wouldn't do this no more, Aimone!"

Ada laughed smugly at his impotence.

"Go outside, where you can't wreck anything." Gildo told them, still gripping his friend.

Ada crossed her arms. "Why?" But Jasper was already pulling her along.

-

They left the gate to find the fields right outside. More treestumps were being removed to increase the farmland for the autumn crop.

"Why do we have to listen to anybody of them?" Ada protested. "We're stronger, way stronger."

"Bree's becoming stronger than you," Constantine teased her, "are ya gonna do what Bree says."

"No, shut up." She pushed him, and they wrestled a bit. With her being fully matured she had the upper hand.

One of the dogs yapped excitedly at them.

"That's not true at all," Piers told it, "Felix is the fasted out of any of us. But he's down below."

Ada threw Constantine aside. "Let's race. Bree can stay behind."

"Noooo!" The troll whined again, not wanting to get ditched again.

But Ada had started sprinting and the others didn't want to lose. So they took off as a group.

Bree hobbled after the runners, jumping forward every few paces to catch up.

The distance seemed to grow ever wider between her and the group when she suddenly found her stride. By flinging herself forward again just as she landed she could bounce forward without losing momentum.

Now she was picking up speed, passing dogs and hobgoblins one after another, grabbing the occasional tree branch to fly acrobatically over their heads.

"H-hey! No fair!" Ada protested as Bree swung triumphantly over her.

She laughed happily soaring through the air and... in free fall. Suddenly there were no trees around her and she plummeted towards a brightly lit patch of vibrantly green grass.

With a painful smack she rolled over the dirt and fell face first into a wide stream.

When the others caught up to her they stopped a few paces behind her. In their antics the children had crossed the entire breadth of the goblin territory up to the river.

Bree lifted herself out of the stream to look directly into a piece of sharpened metal.

They were standing face to face with a group of young adventurers.

guilds

While farmers and other landowners answer to the nobility directly, workmen that live in cities are organized in guilds.

Three of the four realms of the overworld employ guilds to organize society. Only the barren Yellow Wastes are unable to enforce such a system.

Guilds settle disputes amongst their members, draft fair rules to avoid competition, and set the minimum standards for their profession to meet.

The adventurers' guild is but one of these guilds and functions much the same way, appointing local guildmasters and distributing commissions in the form of quests.

Guildmasters are prominent citizens, often possessing some noble blood, that have the ear of their baron in the ruling of the barony. In Grienice, where the nobility has been ousted, the title of guildmaster is the most powerful permanent position attainable.

For unlicensed workmen to fulfill a profession without being part of a guild is a serious crime. This can result in strict punishment up to and including exile.