As it turned out, the transmutation circle Regis drew on the table with his arcana threads was able to recycle the declaration scrolls, but at the loss of a bit of ink which he believed wasn’t too big a deal. For the next two hours, he did nothing but scribble declarations and simple contracts, slowly grinding his skill up to the point where he reached the tenth level according to his ‘endless’ tome’s records.

‘That should do it. Let’s get this over with.’ The dark elf decided before grabbing some of the materials and quills, using the transmutation circle meant for fusing to upgrade their quality. Charlatan’s wisdom showed a slightly better description now, but Regis could only hope that the binding power of the contracts would be strong enough. He drew up three clearly worded contracts; one for his possible future steward which detailed their jurisdiction and expected duties along with a confidentiality clause.

The contracts for his main merchant representative and the future storekeeper of his shop in East Fork were similarly clearly worded and well-detailed. These two contracts however had a small clear spot left for the percentage the merchants would receive from the sales. He would have to come to an agreement with them about the details before signing the contracts. Once he was finally done, he cast charlatan’s wisdom on the scrolls, noticing that their name accurately reflected their purpose.

{Stewardship designation}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: well-made}

{Binding contract}

{Merchant representative designation}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: well-made}

{Binding contract}

{Shopkeeper employment contract}

{Item rarity: uncommon}

{Item quality: well-made}

{Binding contract}

‘I guess this is it then. Now we just have to find the right person for each task.’ The spell weaver sighed as he rolled up the parchments. The night was still early, so Regis decided to spend another hour crafting runic magic scrolls to stock up on them for his soon-to-be-opened shop in East Fork.

When he finally began to feel tired, he took off this armour and used the cleansing spell on himself before getting into his bed. He slept like a log, his thoughts drifting away from the plans he had for the following days. And plans he had. Three days passed by with hard work, both the farmhouses and the riverbed across the village getting finished in the process.

The new villagers finally settled down and the new harvest was just around the corner thanks to everyone’s hard work. Regis spent most of his day fixing up buildings, adding a few spare rooms where needed, or continuing his work on the wall surrounding the village with some of his companions pitching in from time to time. His evenings went by with silent meditations and creating spell scrolls. On the fourth morning after the creation of the contracts, he stirred from his sleep as someone knocked on his door.

“Wake up Regis, breakfast is ready!” Sophie’s voice surprised the dark elf, snapping him back to reality.

After getting out of his bed and donning his armour, the spell weaver joined his companions at the table downstairs.

“Today’s the day, huh?” Valerie asked after the obligatory round of morning greetings.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The crops are ready for harvest and the houses have been expanded and spruced up. I guess everything’s ready.”

“So… we’ll meet at the gateway after your morning round?” Quentin inquired.

“That’s the plan. Thanks for the breakfast.” Regis answered while shovelling down his food, heading out with a spring in his step.

It became a routine of his to walk around in the early hours of the morning to make sure everything was fine. On his way, he met with a few people that were carrying fresh water from the river, earning a few nods. One particular woman caught his attention as she and her daughter tried to carry a pair of hefty-looking buckets towards the farms.

“Let me help with that.” He offered while taking the bucket from the little girl.

“Thank you, milord.” Esther said immediately with a slight bow.

“It’s alright. So, how’s the new house?”

“It’s a dream come true, sire. The walls are sturdy and the roof doesn’t leak anywhere. Jody has already made us a fine bed frame and Lunet’s bed is also in the making. Mister Bray was also kind enough to craft us some new bowls and plates in the past days.”

“Glad to hear life is getting back to how it should be.”

“Yes. Bertram also said that we should be able to harvest the crops tomorrow if things go as planned.”

“That’s good to hear because we’re about to bring over a few more new people. Oh, here we are.”

The dark elf looked at the newly built farmhouse with a hint of pride in his eyes before handing over the bucket to Esther’s husband.

“Thank you for your help milord.” Bertram said with a slight bow.

“Sure. Take care, folks.” Regis said as he turned around heading back while sticking to the other path around the near-finished wall.

As he got back to Landwaker Square, he found his companions chatting with some of the villagers.

“Took you long enough,” Amanda spoke up as she noticed him approaching. “Is everything alright over there?”

“So far so good,” the spell weaver claimed. “Just give me a minute to get my stuff and we’ll be on our way.”

“Take your time,” Quentin nodded firmly. “I was just explaining to Harrow some of Earth’s hunting tactics.”

“That should be useful to know.” Regis sighed as he went back inside the inn, bringing down the contracts from his room, and walking over to the gateway to open its barrier.

“Time to go.” He said as he touched his talisman while Amanda and Quentin grabbed their belongings.

Soon the runes of the teleportation circle lit up and the trio vanished in a flash of bright light.

As the light receded, the familiar sight and smell of the port town greeted them once again.

“Halt!” A somewhat shaky voice called out to them, prompting the three to look towards the left side of the gateway.

A shoddily dressed guardsman stood there, pointing his rust-dotted spear at them while another one hurried away.

“You are under arrest!” The man squeaked as he stared at them with shaky hands.

“On what ground?” Regis asked as he looked at the man unamused.

“On ground of being a member of the Exiled Court.”

“In other words,” Amanda sighed. “You’re trying to hinder us on groundless accusations. My friend here isn’t part of the court so lower that spear before you piss yourself or something.”

“And why would we take the words of a stranger over the decree of his lordship?” An irritating voice resounded from their left as a familiar group of guards appeared from the crowd.

It was the same guard troop that tried to reach them when they were in Hunor the last time.

“Because it would be foolish to question the sincerity of a paladin.” Quentin stated as he stepped forward with a gentle light radiating from his shield.

“This is the territory of lord Verhen,” the man stated with no fear in his eyes. “You have no authority here paladin.”

“By royal law, the servants of the Seven can exert their authority across all of the kingdoms,” Regis said with a calm tone. “The fact that you don’t even know this much proves that you are indeed a crook prancing around in a guard’s uniform.”

“Who do you think you are to call me a crook? We are the soldiers of lord Verhen, and we shall not take to such blatant and groundless accusations.”

“And why should I take the words of a stranger over that of my people?” the spell weaver asked as he looked at the guards with an obvious contempt born from the things he heard from Jody. “As for your question; I am Lord Regis Thorne and you shall act according to that or you will suffer the consequences.”

As he said those words, the golden circle at the edge of his purple eyes flared up as his arcane intimidation skill activated, practically freezing the blood in the guardsmen’s veins. They fell back on their asses, shaking with fear as they stared up at the dark elf. Quentin was about to say something when an unfamiliar voice resounded behind them.

“What’s going on here?” Another group of guards arrived, seemingly stopping to see what happened during their patrol.

“Demon,” the terrified leader of the previous guard troop stuttered as he tried and failed to stand up. “He’s one of those demon worshippers! We tried to stop him, but he attacked us.”

“You,” the leader of the recently arrived guards hummed as he looked at the trio. “You seem familiar.”

“We lived in Hunor during the fallen siege.” Quentin said with a firm tone.

“Ah,” the man’s face showed a sense of reminiscence as he recognised them. “You fought alongside Grego and his squad, right?”

“We did,” the spell weaver answered. “Then we joined the expedition towards East Fork with the fourth and seventh guard troops and the mercenaries.”

“Now I remember,” the soldier nodded. “No wonder you looked familiar? What brought you back?”

“Well,” Regis sighed. “Long story short; I became a landed noble and returned to Hunor to recruit people for my settlement a short while ago. Now that we returned a second time, this fellow here jumped us, telling me how I’m under arrest on grounds of being part of the Exiled Court.”

“Is that true?” The guardsman asked from the still-shaking crook.

“No,” he retorted still stuttering. “We were under lord Verhen’s orders to capture any demon worshippers, so we tried to bring him in, but he used some kind of dark magic on us. Look at my men; they’re out of their wits.”

“And who is to blame for that?” the soldier growled. “Don’t you have eyes? Look at his bearing, his equipment. Even a fool could tell that he’s at least a second-tier spell caster and you expected to keep standing after offending him? And what of his company? No paladin would stand beside a demon worshipper.”

“But...”

“No buts,” the other guards beside their leader sighed. “Just take your man and get out of here.”

The ragtag group of crooks slowly got back want to their feet, gritting their teeth as they left.

“By the Seven,” the guard captain let out a strained breath. “Don’t we have enough trouble on our hands without having to deal with these fools as well?”

“Norma told me how Verhen decided to shore up the number of guards by recruiting capable refugees.”

“Capable,” one of the guards snorted. “This sort of rabble is more trouble than its worth.”

“They are little more than bandits wearing a guard’s uniform.” Another soldier added.

“Either way,” their leader spoke up. “You best watch yourself. These mongrels keep grudges and are good at stabbing people in the back.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Regis nodded. “We only intend to stay as long as it takes to recruit the people we’re looking for. After that, we’ll be gone.”

“Good. There are plenty of refugees waiting for a chance to leave Hunor and there’s simply not enough food for everyone.”

“Is the situation still that bad here?” Quentin asked as he looked at the guard captain’s tired and worried expression.

“Although we already received news of your success in retaking East Fork, only small groups have decided to leave so far.”

“Maybe around a hundred folks left in these past few days.” A soldier noted.

“What are the rest of them waiting for?” Amanda asked with a puzzled expression. “From what I’ve heard, most people should be eager to get the hell out of here.”

“Blame it on our lord’s taxes.” A soldier remarked.

“You mean the gate guards shaking down the people who want to leave? We heard about that as well.”

“Then you know how bad things are. I hate to ill speak of his lordship, but ever since his son died, the man is only a shadow of his former self.”

“Careful what you say in the open,” the guard captain warned his men. “We don’t know who is listening.”

“Understood sir.” The man nodded before going silent.

“We should get going,” the guard captain said. “We still have to finish our patrol and stop at a couple of places.”

“We won’t hold you then,” the spell weaver gave a slight bow. “And once again, thank you for your help earlier.”

“Don’t mention it and take care of yourselves.”

With that the group of soldiers walked away, leaving the outlanders on their own. Once they were out of hearing range, Amanda couldn’t stop herself from speaking up.

“Lord Thorne?”

“I found out about that a few days ago when I entered my soul-space to get the ‘law scribe’ feat. I guess that I gained that particular family name after taking ownership of Thorn Vale.”

“There are indeed a lot of thorn bushes and a few Hawthorne trees in the valley,” Quentin noted while walking. “Look at the bright side. At least you now have an actual family name. No matter what I do, I can’t get the Hearth to add my family name to my character sheet.”

“Same here,” Amanda agreed. “Sophie and I also tried to change our names before, but to no avail.”

“That’s because it’s not up to you,” Regis stated. “From what I’ve learned from the books in the library back at East Fork, family names are mostly earned through military service or bestowed upon the people by their lords.”

“So you can give us our family names? Why didn’t you mention that before?”

“You didn’t ask. But if you want to get one, we can do the whole bestowal ceremony thing back home. That is after we give a name to the village.”

“You still haven’t decided on that?”

“I have a few ideas, but I wanted us to discuss them before deciding on one.”

“We can talk about this later,” Quentin reminded them. “The market square is just up ahead. Do you want me to do the recruiting again, or...”

“You can recruit the stonemason and do try to find that steward candidate and the merchants.”

“Where are you going?” Amanda asked as she watched the dark elf turn to the right.

“I want to visit the church,” the dark elf answered. “I think it’s long overdue.” “Just be careful. Hunor doesn’t seem to welcome visitors nowadays.”

Regis nodded in acknowledgement as he walked away, heading toward the temple of the Seven.