The Dell, Western Wilds.

26th of Kielat, First month of Summer.

2139 years since the new gods came.

1500ish civilian refugees is harder to deal with than I thought it would be.

I have decided to start a council. I don't want to be a politician. It was harder that I thought. I have 5 people. Granny refused. Yet she still showed up.

- - -

Maxwell stepped out of his cabin and surveyed the Dell. His Dell. Well damn. This place has grown. I'm going to have to set up some sort of ruling council to take care of things. I sure as hells don't have the time to do it. He set off down the slight hill towards the little village.

The village had grown quite a bit from the “mere” two score or so tents to several dozens of cabins and proper houses. The streets weren't paved, but the few shop spaces he had made sure to leave were under construction. One was going to be a butcher, another a bakery, and he knew that a blacksmith had moved in on the southern end. He greeted the few people he saw out and about by name, and stopped to kneel next to a graying worg who was surrounded by young children playing in the dirt, and climbing all over him.

“How are you doing, Blood Tear?” Max asked.

Blood Tear looked over to Max and yawned, “I am well, lord Heretic. I am glad to still be of use to the pack.” He growl spoke. One of the children, barely out of diapers, wobbled over and started to scratch Tear. “After so long of being hunted, the Sun and the Goat have given us elders a paradise for our end years.”

Max raised an eyebrow, “You worship that goat guy?”

“Nay. We worship Gehna, god of the hunted.” One of Tears hind legs began to twitch as the child scratched the good spot. “He, of all the gods, saw our plight and saved us from extinction. It is a debt we will never be able to repay, and will never forget.”

Max nodded. “I see.” He took a deep breath to prepare for his recruitment spiel, “I was wondering if you have any inclination to take part in a council of elders I want to gather in order to run the village?”

Blood Tear turned his head and licked the child doing the scratching for a moment, “I think I would like that.”

Max smiled, “I'll put you on the list. Please come to my cabin at sundown.” He said his goodbyes, and walked to his next target.

- - -

“Granny?”

“Yes Master Maxwell?”

“I've asked you not to call me that.” Max said with a sigh. “Would you be willing to assist in the running of the village?”

Granny shook a rolling pin at him. “Hells No! Do I look like a useless politician to you?!?”

Max ran from granny's cottage.

- - -

28th of Kielat,

The crops are doing quite well. Rain has been plentiful. Mr. Bear has escorted a pair small children back to the village. I am missing several of my socks, all for the left foot. I suspect Brandy.

30th of Kielat,

The council is set. Granny, Blood Tear the worg, Grant the smith, Mrs. Ella Bellman, and Jessie Tiler. Jessie is a strong day worker that should have been a scribe, or a scholar. Too bad he was born to the lower class on that island.

Basic rules have been written: Don't cheat in business, don't rob or steal, don't rape, don't murder. I wanted to add “Don't be an asshole”, but I was unanimously voted down. No legalese was used, we are all of “common” stock.

Next week we will be having Mr. Dnigy, our resident master carpenter, come and talk about the best safety plans for homes and structures.

34th of Kielat,

First real report from the scouts I sent to the north west. They have encountered a few small groups of refugees and sent them our way.

Several nearby villages have sent representatives to us.

I have caught Brandywine feeding worgs beer. Meh.

35th of Kielat,

Children are a menace. I have recovered my socks.

38th of Kielat,

Mr. Dnigy has been very enlightening. He believes that any structures that exceed two stories in height (outside of workshops and barns and the like) should have ladders or steps (on the outside of the buildings) leading from the upper floors. This is to ensure that people living there can escape in case of a fire. I think it's a good safety feature, but risky in a security sense. The council is mixed.

The other villages wish to join the council and have sent people to represent their homes. Apparently they are of the opinion that this will turn into a “ruling council” for the entire region. (What region?)

Brandy has informed me that her spies (the children) have been listening to their parents, and telling her things. One of the things is that my dell is being called 'Heretic's Dell'.

40th of Kielat,

Mr. Dimple, the representative from the village of Hert, asked me about taxes today. I couldn't stop laughing! What are we supposed to tax, sweat?

Lords, kings, and rulers, Meh.

- - -

“Mr. Dimple, I'm sorry about laughing.” Max finally said, gasping. “Please, look out over the village. Do you see anything to tax?”

“Well... The buildings could be taxed. As could the workers wages?” Mr. Dimple quietly said.

“For what money? They have none!” Max shook his head, “And besides, it's not like we're an actual political entity here, right?”

“Respectfully sir, this is the most powerful place within hundreds of miles.” Mr. Dimple removed a sheaf of papers from a valise he was carrying, “And this is for you.” He handed the papers to Max and quickly walked away.

Max looked through the papers, swore loudly in a variety of languages, and stomped off to his cabin. Upon entering he found a similar sheaf of papers on his table from the village of Blaine, also a sheet from the tiny village of Dys. The contents were almost identical: formal decorations of fealty.

- - -

43rd of Kielat,

More news from the scouts. They are encountering new, and larger, bands of refugees. More rumors of 'demons' and such.

47th of Kielat,

I got word from the scouts. The Things are real. We are, as Tristan would occasionally say, “Well and truly Sodomized.”