…

After two days of traveling through the Outside, the spooked Feeders made it home. While the sheer size of their hunting range is a part of the reason for the long trek, they also needed to make several small detours in order to procure some edible meat for their brethren. No one in the group had any delusions that their party would’ve outperformed any of the other short-range Feeder groups who were dispatched at the same time.

Which is insignificant in comparison to the valuable information they had for the Seed.

The only question was, who’d bear the news? The Seed both pacifies the ferocious beasts of the jagged lands who share their home and stimulates the growth of their herbs. As such, it’s every seedfolk’s dream to be of vital use to their Seed. Which is only natural as they couldn’t’ve colonized this land without it. Indeed, their own Seed was created long ago by their ancestors who likewise owed their own survival to their Seed. And so on, for countless generations. The story of the seedfolk truly was a story of the ancestral line of Seeds.

Indeed, the budding of their own community was long overdue, acquiring an Imposter is the most essential step in the process of birthing a new Seed.

Suddenly and briefly Jangin said, “Why don’t we draw straws to see who speaks to the Seed?”

Even while being outgoing, Jangin was highly respected by his peers for his straightforward personality.

Jangin bundled up 21 wet grass stalks from the jagged plant floor. While soft plants may be an overall minority in this biome, they’re still well represented with occasional instances of large soft flora sprouting about.

Everyone grabbed their shoots and compared sizes.

Finnikin drew the winning short straw.

Finnikin then said, “I’d like to opt out, I’d rather not converse with the Seed.”

Everyone turned to look at Finnikin. Explaining himself, he said, “Look, I’d be honored to deliver the news to the Seed, but I’m just afraid I’ll trip up my words and make a fool of myself.”

Scratching one of his erect triangular ears, Jangin consolingly responded, “Finn, my mother has communed with the Seed on many occasions, she’s always going on about how kind the Seed is. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

A few of the Feeders with ambiguously short straws gave Jangin the stink eye, as Finnikin abstaining from delivering the message raised their own chances of winning the second pick.

Ignoring the glares, after a pause Jangin continued, “Oh, and this is just a small thing, I’m sure Tamara would be impressed…”

With his ears falling flat to his head while everyone chuckled, Finnikin said, “Fine, you have me. I’ll do it!”

With that settled, they passed through the sprawling cavern that led to their home. The brittle jagged flora crunched underfoot as they crested the ridge obscuring the view of their home, the Inside.

Climbing over the barrier they were presented with the breathtaking sight of their community. The village existed within a tall chamber with sloped sides and numerous homes dug halfway into the sloping ground. The houses and other buildings were built from an eclectic variety of materials, ranging from fungiwood, stone, crystal slabs, animal chitin, hardened clay, bleached coral, plant fiber, and even living wood.

Even more impressive were the innumerable terraced and stacked gardens interspersed with carved stone irrigation canals, blanketed by a motley of multicolored mosses, carrying water from the cascading waterfall at the edge of the enormous chamber. In stark contrast to the surrounding jagged-dominated ecosystems, the entire area was filled with soft-type flora and fauna. Indeed, in addition to the countless exotic gardens, each and every house included their own rooftop gardens, either with pots for the houses built from organic materials, or simple soil-enclosed rooves for the others.

The walls and ceilings are coated with a veritable forest of vine-laden specialized blue and green trees who sprout horizontally from the walls and hang upside-down from the ceiling. While Finnikin’s people didn’t actively cultivate the wildlife clinging to the upper reaches of the cavern, they still harvested their bounties with the help of a complex array of rope ladders and nets, along with extensive networks of pully mounted baskets.

Much like the many locations in the Outside, the Inside was home to a robust ecosystem of predators and prey, though because the majority of the floor-space was occupied by the seedfolk’s homes and farms, most of the wild animals lived in the hanging forest and were either effective climbers or capable of flight. If it wasn’t for the profuse rope system spanning the huge cavern, there’d likely be a population of titanic cave drifters as well, instead, only the smaller species lazily floated about, passively feeding on the prolific swarms of small insects with their long dangling stinging tentacles.

Interestingly, several species of microwyverns called the region their home. With two strong hind-legs and two claw-tipped wings, the man-sized reptilian beasts could easily fly around, feeding on other large climbing fauna. One species even sported a wide and sticky frill around its neck. The folding frill is pocked with holes which allow air to pass through the membrane as it flies through the air with it extended. To feed, said species of drake would dive through clouds of swarming insects, ensnaring them on its sticky frill. It would then proceed to lick them off with its long tongue.

Finnikin split off from the main group who was heading to the feedstocks with their haul, he had a message to deliver.

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Ike had not spoken to Wes at all in the past two weeks, but Ike still stuck to the three-times-a-week prearranged stone block supply schedule. While Wes wasn’t actually sure whether or not Ike was directly involved in the stone block operation, he had a sneaking suspicion that he was.

The blocks were insanely popular, the abundant supply and their precision make made them extremely appealing for most construction projects. In just two weeks, Weston’s client had nearly doubled the supply, allowing Wes to seek out new customers beyond Gregor Dunn.

Wes really couldn’t’ve asked for a better windfall; he was lucky to have Ike as a business partner. While he still would’ve made a killing from his fledgling distribution business due to the explosive growth of Sevit, the added income from the block sales and his mortar importing side-venture was a huge boon.

Indeed, with every last builder in the city currently working, as long as Ike’s men continued to increase the supply as they have, Wes will be able to surpass the current demand.

Of course, that’ll only last for a while. The Local Chamber was still sending migrants and now that the city was beginning to establish itself and would soon begin to export a notable volume of trade goods, natural immigration would commence.

Of course, Weston sniffed some more immediate business, as a runner had informed Clifford who’d, in turn, relayed to Wes that the successors of the Rendum Chambermen would be arriving before the day’s end.

Weston found it incredible that Sevit had managed to avoid any major incidents so far. Sure, there had been some minor thefts, but those had been put down by mob justice. Scary stuff, that.

The successors are probably on their way to establish an official administration. Unlike several narrow-minded merchants that he could think of, Weston welcomed their presence. Though their arrival will herald the institution of a taxation policy, Wes wasn’t naive enough to ignore the benefits.

Of course, he had no doubt that they’d skim a large percentage of the tax revenue off the top for their own selfish pleasures, but overall the benefits substantially outweigh the cons. Free cities never fared as well as Chamber administered regions, the men in power aren’t idiots, they know how to promote their investments. As a testament to his objectiveness, Wes fully realized that he’d probably do the same in their place, so he couldn’t fault them too much.

Actually, maybe he was a bit biased, after all, he was planning on relieving them of the heavy contents of their pockets…

Wes was looking forward to launching the foundation of his business, he was working to establish a distribution service for the town of Sevit. Because he was focusing on intercity logistics, his company would not bring him into competition with the Watergarde Merchant’s Company. Which is essential, as he was going to rely on his job as a Watergarde Liaison to procure imports with priority.

Finally finished with his headquarters, an impressive structure which had quite literally drained his coffer, Wes would begin to hire more employees. While his primary workforce entirely consisted of laborers, the expansion of the city, and the subsequent rise in demand for logistics solutions, will necessitate the hiring of literate secretaries.

As Weston’s ambitions for his business had shifted toward a courier-focus, he realized how convenient and expeditious it would be to subsume his stone block retail service; he was already focusing on trade-good distribution, so he could easily reallocate his assets to support the similar enterprise.

The city’s zoning was getting out of hand, if Sevit had gone any longer without dedicated administrators, any hope for a robust network of roads would’ve been lost. That would’ve severely retarded his future plans. He’d had his coat rack by the window of his shop, as arranged, for several days now but Ike still had yet to contact him. Wes would be sure to bounce the idea of selling road-ready cobblestones off of him when he got the chance.

Anyway, he needed to get ready for the new governor’s arrival. Wes was proud to say that he was currently the most influential man in the city, as such, he found it highly likely that the wealthy new visitors would accept the invitation to a feast that he’d paid some townsfolk to prepare.

First impressions are very important.

--------------------

A caravan of luxurious carriages, complete with lighting runes, followed in the ruts pressed into the earth by the frequent passing of traders. Marching alongside the single-file vehicles in no particular formation were three dozen guards who would later join Sevit’s defenders. They were wearing lightweight leather-joined carburized iron plate armor and carried decoratively lacquered crossbows and metal-tipped spears. A few of them were mages and substituted their spears with standardized, yet complex brass staves featuring external runic inlays composed of several different materials as well as an array of ergonomic twisting shafts.

The passengers of the posh procession included servants and scholars in service of each Rendum Chambermen’s family. The Local Chamber had sent its member’s successors to govern the burgeoning city of Sevit. Of the fifteen, thirteen of them were direct familial descendants of their appointees, while the remaining two were ‘dark horses.’

In the centermost carriage sat an intimidating man who was staring out at the grassy rolling hills of the former forest with a frown on his face.

Draven Campbell was Declan Campbell’s second son and chosen political heir. He’d garnered his family’s favor with his work-ethic and ambition. Paradoxically, his older brother had decided to forfeit the responsibilities expected of him and gone off to study under the Commission Mages. Declan Campbell supported his first son’s activities, but he was still left with no choice but to name Draven as his successor. And as far as Draven was concerned, that would’ve been a natural development regardless; he considered himself much more deserving of the position.

However, Draven never asked to be, quite literally, shipped off to the middle of nowhere. The Rendum Chamber had made the collective decision to send the fifteen of them to govern Sevit and secure its future prosperity. Just as he had, presumably the other fourteen men had also been given the task of establishing their families in the growing new city. Draven had been educated on the military and economic significance of territories that lie within mana wells, however, he didn’t see the point in arriving so hastily.

They didn’t even have a place to live! A runner had informed them of the presence of a local builder who was constructing several “refined homes,” which was an admittedly odd behavior. While he had no doubts that some of his peers would settle for such unbecoming residences, Draven was having none of it. At best he’d use one as a temporary place to stay. If his father was going to send him out here to secure a foothold for his family, then wouldn’t it be expected of him to build a new mansion?

As he was contemplating his purpose here, Draven looked up and noticed they were nearing the dingy little wooden houses that composed the “city” of Sevit. He’d have to make the best of the situation.