“I am prepared, of course, to make a full status report.”

“Uh, how about you give me the fun parts…” Nic waved her away.

“Nicolas, this is a comprehensive, extensively notated document detailing every facet of the Settlement’s progress and its path towards greatness. It is all fun parts.” She retorted.

Nic rolled his eyes. She’d gone mad with power. He knew it would happen.

“Citizens have come flooding in. The lot you rescued from that dingy camp arrived two days ago now, and have been the most active in helping build Winterhome up. I’ve had them assembling small arrays…”

He nodded. Within the massive, overall array of a Settlement, there could be countless smaller nodes that each drew in energy from the earth and sky. The Totem at the core of the Settlement would naturally generate quests to go out and assemble these nodes, and each one completed would speed the growth of the city on the whole…

Sofia had repeated this three times before Nic gave in and paid attention.

“As well as trying to scavenge up supplies to make the city itself livable. It appears we underestimated, well, everything. They need cookware, furniture, and, ah, toilet paper, we forgot to stock that…”

Nic let out a little laugh. Yeah, he missed actual paper…

Leaves were a terrible gamble that you wouldn’t grab poison ivy by mistake.

“Can’t we buy all that?”

“If we have a proper merchant, yes, yes we can. But your friend the Wreckrunner deals in antiquities and salvage, not essential supplies. So unless you want to use sacred scrolls for that base purpose, we need to draw more merchants to town and perhaps even establish a trading house. That way these small things can be handled via credits and not wasting our labor…”

As he approached the town, Nic noted that the woods were no longer still and quiet. Over the past few days every manner of beast imaginable had arrived in Winterhome, hearing his message and choosing to hope against hope they’d find safe harbor there.

Plenty of desperate people from cities like Nic’s own home had bet every fiber of their being to arrive on this new earth with a new body, only to realize too late they didn’t have the killing instinct.

Redjaw didn’t have that problem. The centipede-wyrm walked happily by Nic’s side, Sunfire scuttling along behind him. The two looked to have finally settled their squabbling over the past few days, and Nic was happy to see them, to receive Sunfire’s chirping tributes of especially shiny stones and Redjaw’s silent, affectionate headbuts nuzzling against his shoulder.

As he walked through the forest a silver-skinned deer approached. She had a third eye in the center of her brow, contained within a mark of red fur like a curling flame. Small fangs stuck out of the sides of her mouth.

“Greetings, Lord of Winterhome…”

Her head dipped in a small bow. Her voice whispered directly into his mind.

Nic was taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture. He was guessing, just by the way she spoke, that this was someone from a more antiquated world, or maybe even the disciple of some small sect.

“I am Ettrai. I have been selected as envoy for the beasts, thanks to my ability to speak.”

“Oh. Heh. I guess that’s better than letting Inkspur convince me that what you all really want is a temple to tiny wyverns.” He watched her carefully. While her movements were slow and delicate, his impression wasn’t at all of a shy, frightened prey animal.

Rather she had the deliberate motion of a predator.

Wyrdlands Silk-Mist Faun. E-Class // Sapient. This creature is considered a sacred protector of ancient woods and undefiled wilds, and has the natural power to weave illusions, binding the unworthy trespassers in an infinity of bewildering mists.

Nic’s smile twitched as he realized she was in the same Class as him.

If Nic was a gambler, he’d bet there had been some intimidation before the other animals had elected her their voice and spokesperson.

“She’s been quite insistent about a number of things…” Sofia said with clear bitterness.

“I have been talking to the town steward, your Sophont. We have come to a disagreement…” The doe’s eyes flashed. “I want to assign the Dominus Nodes strictly to us beasts.”

Nic raised a slimy eyebrow. “Why?”

“We require access to them to evolve. The humans do not have such concerns. In addition, most of the humans who’ve arrived here did so seeking shelter, safety, comfort…” The doe made her argument with a calm confidence. “But there are numerous beasts who will only join your cause for the chance to advance themselves. Why would they do so, when they give up their chance to control a Node?”

Nic weighed it, tilting his head from side to side.

“Nicolas, be careful. What she’s asking will mean your town will be…”

“Dominated by monsters.” Nic finished, then turned to the deer. “How about we have a fight for it? Every month, anyone who wants to can try their luck. They can even challenge me. Winner takes the loser’s node for the month...”

“Nicolas, you’re playing too much into her hand…”

“But. The first three nodes? Two of them are mine, and one is Nylea’s. That’s not up for debate.” He smiled with a false sweetness, playing his part as the ignorant hick. “Don’t worry, I’m sure with you around, we’ll be able to snatch up plenty more…”

Just for a moment he saw Ettrai’s eyes flicker. There was a translucent second eyelid beneath the first, and she didn’t seem to fully control its motion. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten what she wanted here…

A ripple of mist swelled out and for a moment, Ettrai was obscured. When the mist cleared, she was gone again. Nic shook his head as he continued towards town.

---

The little village that Nic had raised out of the lake on stilts and floating rafts was bustling. Nic wasn’t surprised to have drawn so many beasts from the forest, but how many Natives had come out of hiding?

That was a surprise. His crows had really done their work well, spreading the news of Winterhome to various pockets of humanity who were camped in the woods, holding onto hope, waiting for a sign to leave their caves and moss-covered hiding places.

Accordingly, the people of his town were dirty, ill-fed, and radiantly happy to be somewhere that felt like home again.

Nic watched from the hill above the lake as a makeshift raft was pushed out by a group of thin, teenaged boys. They had crude spears and nets in hand, and they were grinning ear to ear with excitement as they used their hands to clumsily paddle through the waters, spears held high, nets dragging, chasing the bright fish below.

Nearby…

An old woman was teaching a younger one how to weave, threading together reed stalks with a surprising grace in her gnarled old fingers. Judging by the difference in skin tone and dress, Nic imagined the two weavers, master and apprentice, were from different sides of the world entirely. The great rearrangement of the earth had simply thrown them together.

He caught sight of Ruben quickly. The paunchy old fellow was directing the building of new huts, a crew of laborers wading knee-deep in the water to sink new foundations. Nic could only shake his head.

He’d made over three dozen huts.

He needed twice that many.

“I’ve been quite busy. Most of these people received only a few days instruction in cultivation, and then were cast back into the world to live or die. They almost all need remedial lessons before they’re ready to venture out and build establishing formations…” Sofia sounded happy. Really, radiantly happy. Having a whole village full of people to teach and direct and boss around, well, that was her vision of heaven, Nic imagined.

As for Nic? He hesitated on the crest of the hill.

Once he went down there…

His problems would increase, exponentially. There’d be a million things he needed to do and plan and work away at…

In the background, Sofia was still talking, an excited hum in her voice. “But the few hunters we have are out scouting towards a new Node…”

“Right. Right. You know what we need? We need Tarquin.” The answer came to him suddenly. Tarquin, not Nic, had an effortless way with people. A mind for numbers…

“Yes, we’re about ready for that. I need to acquire a number more weapons, equipment, Shards…”

Nic reached into his bag and drew out a second bag, equally large but not at all magical. Then another, and another, and another…

Each was stuffed full of armor, weapons, even Shards he’d ripped out from the men he’d killed in Makepeace. Nic hadn’t been at all wasteful.

“Will these do?”

Sofia paused, then agreed. “Yes, yes these will do nicely.”

“Is there some reason we’re delaying?” Nic asked, sharply. She’d been putting this off at every chance she could. “Because Tarquin is in danger, right now, and I promised to help him.”

“Because, Nic, you invite reprisals from two directions. Logos has promised you an object of equal worth to the pearl you took from Azmin; I believe it will be delivered when you use the first half of your bargain, the license. Add to that, you’ll be insulting the governor of the city by creating a mercenary company on his world, without his permission. He could send assassins after you, and the System wouldn’t stop him…”

Nic snorted. “I have a bounty on my head.”

“You have a joke bounty, for children playing killing games. The kind the System allows Natives to assign over petty killings. It is currently rewarding, every day, simply for surviving. Does that sound as if it’s a mark of the System’s disfavor? No. If the Governor places a bounty on you, it will be an Execution Writ, and people will come to enforce it…”

A shrug, a laugh. “I’m ready.”

He stepped forward and the trees parted. Without looking where he was going, Nic had entered a small grove where the canopy parted and sunlight rained down, feeding a garden. All sorts of strange, beautiful plants had been seeded into the earth; wicked thorns that grew luminous berries, and hairy, gruesome flowers with vivid red blossoms that sunk of rotting meat.

There was something demonic about the garden; all the treasures there excited the trace of demon energy left within Nic, making his mouth start to water.

Something moved nearby. A shadow parted from a tree, then dunked back into cover. Nic half-turned, calling out idly…

“Kline, I can see you.”

The sulking demon stepped out. Kline’s new body had a hunched, feral posture, moving bent at the back with his long arms and skeletal fingers raking over the ground in a knuckle-walk. His face wasn’t getting any prettier, either.

But the coins that hung from him like loose scales shone and rang with a musical tone.

Acheron Cait-Sith. F-Class // Demonic Sapient. Born along the banks of the river that encircles the underworld, this variant of the common cat-demon has a talent for moving in strange ways, opening corridors in space.

“So, you came back…” Kline’s voice was scraping and raw. It sounded like a whisper from beneath a grave. “I think… How…. You used to be a human, and then you were a monster, right? I think I need help. I’m not…”

Nic had gone from annoyed at being interrupted to genuinely concerned. Something about the boy’s manner was off, his words slurring, as if he was struggling to put them together. His claw-tipped hand idly pawed at his face, scratching himself deeply.

“I can’t think…”

“Sofia?”

“He’s suffering rejection. You were given your body by the System, and it wove a protective cocoon around your mind to keep you from going insane. Acquiring my help, constantly raising your Mental Acuity, these things prolonged that protection until you could fully acclimate…” Sofia had pity in her voice, for once. “He has no such assistance in adjusting to his new body.”

Nic nodded, and reached out. The boy nearly collapsed into his grip, gasping with a ragged, hyperventilating edge. Dragging the larger figure with him, Nic pulled him to a tree and lay him down with his head propped up.

There was a flicker and Sofia appeared as a hologram.

“Well, Nicolas, you promised to teach them how to survive. This one is in need of teaching. You have my help, but this one…”

She looked down at him…

“This one will need a great deal of assistance.”