All in all, Morgan was in an excellent mood. He’d slept well, things were going great with Issa, and despite his encounter with the snake’s acid, he’d managed to conquer it. As he walked through the grass toward the colony’s central hub, he even caught himself whistling a little tune. He wore his nice white shirt tucked into his sturdy tailored pants, the sun was warm on his face, and things just seemed good. “Careful, you’re going to jinx things,” he muttered to himself, smiling ruefully. The town center was bustling, and Morgan had to count on his fingers for a minute to make sure it wasn’t election day, but he was pretty sure it was tomorrow. People were just busy, he guessed.

He was about to climb the steps up to the Colony Stone when Morgan caught sight of Bronwyn and Olivia standing over near the artisan hall, talking to each other. He walked toward them, waving, and called out, “Hey, how’re things going?”

“Hi, Morgan,” Olivia said as he walked up. “Things are good but hectic; Bronwyn just heard from some of her followers that the Urghat are on the move. We think they’ll get here tonight.”

“You have ‘followers’?” Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow at Bronwyn.

“Hah, yeah. While I was scouting the plains, I fought a few duels and earned the respect of a few Urghat. I didn’t want to bring them into the colony while there’s a war going on, but they made a camp in the woods a bit to the east. I’ve had them watching the plains for the Urghat invasion.”

“Huh, well, that’s interesting. So they’re turning against their own kind to help us?”

“No. It’s hard to explain; they aren’t helping us; they’re helping me. They have a fascinating system of leadership that basically revolves around the idea that the toughest should be the leaders. I killed one of their leaders and got his title, allowing me to start earning respect among their kind. I’m still not officially recognized because their big leader hasn’t accepted me, so these few Urghat who follow me are essentially making themselves outcasts, banking on me winning official acceptance among their people. In other words, they hope we’ll win so that the leaders who are against me will be conquered. That would clear the path for me to be accepted and get them back in the good graces of their clans.” Bronwyn trailed off, and Morgan smiled.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you say since I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty invested in the topic.” Bronwyn shrugged.

“Well, I got my armor wrecked, so I’m heading up to buy some new stuff. By the way, I managed to open the floor of my tower that has bedrooms. I think I have sixteen guest rooms, well, fifteen since Issa and I are using one, so if you ladies are still sleeping in tents, you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“Uh,” Olivia looked at Bronwyn, then back at Morgan, “Yeah, that would be great. I’m going to leave soon for the academy, but I’d love to have a bed to sleep in for a change.”

“Yeah, that would be cool. Thanks, Morgan. Oh, hey, you need armor?” Bronwyn reached toward the storage pouch on her belt and started producing pieces of heavy, dark-colored armor made from thick, overlapping metal scales. “I got this off the Underclaw I killed to get my title. It’s too heavy for my fighting style, but you’re a big guy; maybe it will work for you?”

“Shit, that’s some cool looking armor. It has little golden runes in it too. Do you know what they do?”

“No, I didn’t try bonding with it. Since you’re giving me a place to live, I’ll let you have it.” She smiled and punched Morgan on the arm.

“Hah, no worries. I really do have a lot of room, but let’s not go inviting the whole colony, okay? I mean, I think Arthur seems like a good guy, but I’d rather not have him as a roomie, you know what I mean?” Morgan asked. Bronwyn and Olivia gave each other a knowing look and burst into laughter.

“We know exactly what you mean,” Olivia said.

“Anyway, when I get back, I’ll tell Tiladia to let you two have permission to use the door and the stairs. She’s the spirit I was telling you about, Olivia.”

“Right, okay. Thanks again, Morgan. We’re going to head over to the wall to check on preparations.” Morgan nodded as they started to walk away. He was kneeling in the grass, checking out the armor. It consisted of a heavy shirt of scales and full vambraces and greaves attached via dark leather straps. He’d have much better coverage than his old armor; he just hoped that he’d be able to get Boris to add dexterity enchantments to it. He trickled some Energy into the shirt, attempting to bond with it:

***Axe Breaker Scale: Artificed Armor. Enchantments: 1. Self-repair - This armor will utilize ambient Energy to recover from wear and damage over time. 2. Perfected Layering - A master Artificer has enchanted this armor to fit the user perfectly and provide maximum protection versus slashing attacks.***

“Not too shabby,” he said to himself as he collected the armor and went to look for Boris. He was surprised to find him working at the same workbench where he’d been before. Boris was inscribing a bracelet that looked to be made of gold, and Morgan waited quietly, not wanting to make him mess up. It took the Enchanter five good minutes before he looked up and smiled at Morgan.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“No worries. I have a problem and need a favor, but I think I can make it worth your while this time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I got in a fight with something that spat acid on most of my armor, wrecking it. I got some new armor from Bronwyn, but I need that dexterity enchantment again.” Boris began to groan, so Morgan continued, “Hold on, hold on; check these out.” Morgan pulled five gems from the guardian snake’s corpse out of his ring and set them on the workbench. Boris sniffed, putting his monocle to his eye and staring at one of the gems for a long time.

“These are incredible, Morgan. I’ve been looking for just something like this to use as an Energy battery in enchanted items. I think they’re worth a lot, and I’d feel guilty taking them for what will probably just be an hour or two of work.”

“Don’t even think about it. I have more where that came from, too. Here.” He put his new armor on the workbench. “Do you know if anyone is up to making steel items at the forge yet? I want a new helmet, but I don’t want a bronze one from the Contribution Store.”

“Yeah, there’s a guy making steel armor. Tell you what, give me another of these gems, and I’ll get him to make you a helmet. He owes me.” Morgan nodded happily, producing another gem and setting it on Boris’s workbench.

“Do the different colors on the gems do anything?” Morgan asked, noting that the one he’d just handed Boris was blue while the others he’d given him were all orange and red.

“I don’t think so, but I have a lot of learning to do. I’ll let you know what I find out.” Morgan nodded and turned to leave. “I should have your armor ready by tonight or in the morning at the latest. Hang on a second,” Boris said, leaning over the scale armor Morgan had set on his workbench. “This isn’t steel. It’s very dense, and I recognize some of the runes; this is a set. I’ve been trying to learn about enchanting sets; this’ll be great for me to study!”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll come back later this evening or in the morning. Thanks, Boris.” Morgan was happy to see his old friend so passionate about his work. He supposed he might benefit from learning more about crafting, in general, but he just had so much on his plate right now. Speaking of things on his plate, he remembered he’d promised Ykleedra some fresh meat.

He worked his way over to the tanning yard and storage facility the colonists had built while he and Olivia were away. It was in the southwest corner of the settlement, and as Morgan rounded the hill and started walking along the southern road, he was surprised to see how many houses had been built since he’d last walked that way. There had to be more than a hundred small homes now, new rows laid out past the big dormitory-style buildings. There were decidedly fewer tents out in the field these days.

He turned to the left, following the new cobbled path that led to the tannery, and braced himself for the smell. As he got close enough to see the structure, he noticed that it consisted of a large, open-air deck with a peaked ramada-like roof attached to a warehouse-style building. The smell from the butcher yard under the ramada was about what he’d expected, but he didn’t smell the awful tell-tale stench of the tannery. He walked up to one of the butchering tables and spoke to the large woman cleaning a deer-like carcass. “Hello, I’m new to how this works, but I’d like to purchase some meat.”

“Oh? Well, I earn credits for cleaning the meat, but I don’t sell it. There’s a shop just inside the tannery warehouse.” She gestured to a set of open double doors where the ramada met the large wooden structure.

“So there is a tannery in there? Why can’t I smell it?”

“They bought the building from the System. It has some air purifiers that run on Energy - regular fans that pull air over the hides and up through vents, and the air going through those vents comes out smelling clean. I don’t know how it works, but I’m sure as hell glad.” She shrugged her meaty shoulders and smiled. “Name’s Anise, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Anise. I’m Morgan.” She nodded, staring at him, and he felt a bit awkward in the silence. “Um, I’ve got a lot of errands to run, but I’ll catch you around.” Morgan waved and walked over to the building, stepping through the doors. The room he walked into was clearly just the public-facing side of the operation. A counter ran along one side of the room where a couple of clerks talked to customers. Morgan waited for his turn, and when the young woman with long red pigtails called him over, he approached the counter. “Hello, is this where I go to buy some meat?”

“Sure, but the council has issued a policy that we agreed to in exchange for the building - until, after the Urghat conflict, we give a half-pound of fresh meat to any colonist per day. As long as supplies are good.”

“Supplies are good, I take it?”

“Oh yeah, the plains and forests are teeming with wildlife. The hunters claim they ain’t even putting a dent in it.”

“How do you keep track?”

“Oh, one of the Artificers came up with a simple device.” She pointed at a black slate with a few dozen runes carved into it. “You just touch this, run a little Energy into it, and it will flash this orange gem at the top if you’re cleared for an allowance and this white gem if you already got some.” Morgan hadn’t noticed the two gems at first, but now he saw what she was pointing at.

“Huh, neat. So it resets each day?”

“Guess so!” She shrugged, smiling.

“Alright, well, what if I want to buy more than my allotment?”

“One Energy bead per pound.” Morgan knew the price was highway robbery compared to what food cost in Tarn’s Crossing. Still, he had plenty of beads and didn’t feel like bickering. He slapped five of his double-attuned beads on the counter.

“I’ll take fifteen pounds. Those are double attuned beads - worth three times a normal one at the Colony Stone.”

“Mmhmm.” She scooped up the beads and walked through a swinging door. She returned with three large packages wrapped in brown paper a few moments later. “Here you go, hon. See you soon.”

“Thanks,” Morgan replied, stuffing the meat packages into his belt pouch. He waved and walked out of the meatpacking and tanning warehouse and through the slaughter yard under the ramada, noticing how the raised deck had grates under the workbenches for blood to drain through. Briefly, he wondered where the blood ended up, but he was off the deck and onto the grass, and his thoughts turned to happier things. He wanted to get back to the tower to give Ykleedra some food and check on Issa.

Morgan had walked most of the way to his tower, with just the empty grass slope between him and the door, when he heard the sound of a distant horn. He’d, of course, heard war horns in movies and VR, so he recognized the sound, but it was still eerie. Beyond his tower, he saw people scurrying around on the top of the wall, so he started jogging that way. He’d made it about halfway when several more horns took up the call, and then the drums started. Deep thunderous drum beats rolled over the plains and into the colony. As he ran the rest of the way to the earthen steps leading up to the rampart, the drumbeats continued, punctuated with occasional, long blasts of those war horns.

When he got to the top of the ramparts, the sun was halfway down to the western horizon, and heavy clouds had rolled in, casting long shadows beneath a dark, orange-red sky, leading to a foreboding feeling as he looked out over the plains. The drums and horns continued as he watched hundreds, then thousands of distant figures form lines about a mile out from the wall. He watched for several minutes, noting that the invaders weren’t attacking just yet - they were setting up tents and lighting fires. He was going to turn and find someone to talk to when he felt a hand grasp his. He looked down and saw that Issa had come to stand beside him, wearing her silvery armor and a helmet with a ring of long fangs mounted around the brow that he’d never seen before.

“It looks like it’s about to begin,” she said, a deep frown furrowing her brow.