Chapter 17: Headquarters Establishment
Winter came to Oxenfurt with frost and gray skies. The warehouse—our warehouse now—groaned against cold winds that swept off the river, but its walls held. Decades of neglect hadn't killed the building's bones.
Tom proved invaluable.
His network of veteran contacts included half a dozen skilled laborers who needed work and would accept discounted rates for the promise of future opportunities. They arrived the morning after our purchase, carrying tools and expecting orders.
"Ground floor cleared first," I said, standing in the main hall with a rough sketch of my plans. "This will be the public space—reception, contract board, meeting area. The debris goes, the walls get patched, we need basic furniture."
A grizzled veteran named Henrick squinted at my drawing. "You want shelving along the east wall?"
"For equipment storage. Members should have access to basic supplies."
"And the stairs?"
"Reinforced. The second floor will be housing—private rooms for permanent members. Third floor is administrative."
Henrick exchanged glances with his crew. They'd expected a teenager playing at leadership. What they got was someone with specific requirements and the clarity to express them.
"This'll cost," he said finally. "Even with our rates, materials don't come free."
"Tom's handling procurement. Stay within budget and there's bonus work later."
They got to work.
The next week blurred into sawdust and sweat. I helped where I could—hauling debris, holding boards for cutting, learning the basics of carpentry from men who'd built siege works in their military days. My muscles ached in ways combat training never touched.
Mira recovered slowly. The magical exhaustion had deeper effects than simple fatigue—she slept twelve hours a night and still woke tired, her light globe flickering instead of steady. But each day brought improvement, and by the end of the week, she was well enough to take over administrative duties.
"Twelve crowns for materials and labor," she reported, tallying figures in her notebook. "That leaves us negative five crowns against the initial payment we still owe."
"We'll make it back. Contracts are already coming in."
"Small contracts. Pest removal, escort work. Nothing that pays enough to clear our debt."
"Then we take more of them." I watched workers install the contract board—a large wooden frame where job postings could be pinned. "Volume compensates for value when you're starting out."
Kira appeared at the door, small form wrapped in a cloak too large for her. She'd been running reconnaissance through the city, using street connections to gather information.
"Got names," she said, pulling a crumpled paper from her pocket. "Two people looking for guild work. Young fighter named Marcus—trained with mercenaries but too young for real contracts. And a woman, Helena, used to manage her father's trading company before it collapsed. Good with numbers."
"Where'd you find them?"
"Marcus fights in the riverside taverns for coin. Helena works as a scribe but hates it." Kira's expression was carefully neutral, the professional detachment of a scout delivering intelligence. "Both desperate. Both talented. Neither has anywhere else to go."
"The overlooked. The rejected. Same pattern as everyone else we've recruited."
"Good work. Set up meetings for tomorrow."
She nodded and vanished back into the cold streets. Twelve years old, and already one of our most effective assets.
The Heart Crystal appeared when I needed it.
Not purchased—manifested. The system's response to establishing a physical headquarters, providing the tool required for the next phase of development.
[OUTPOST ESTABLISHED: OXENFURT HEADQUARTERS]
[Heart Crystal: AVAILABLE FOR PLACEMENT]
[Effect: Strengthens oath-bonds within range. Enables expanded member capacity. Unlocks Phase 2 prerequisites.]
[Placement Location: Central position recommended for maximum coverage]
The crystal materialized in my hand during a moment of privacy—heavy, warm, pulsing with inner light that only I could perceive. About the size of my fist, faceted like a gem but composed of something that wasn't quite matter.
I placed it in the main hall's center, where the contract board and meeting area would focus activity. The crystal settled into the floorboards, sinking until only its upper surface remained visible—and even that was faint, nearly invisible unless you knew to look.
[HEART CRYSTAL: ACTIVE]
[Oath-Bond Strength: +25%]
[Member Locator Range: Expanded to 10km]
[Member Capacity: Expanded to 10 (Phase 1 maximum)]
A pulse of warmth spread through the building. Not physical heat—something subtler, the magical equivalent of a heartbeat establishing rhythm. I felt my connections to Mira, Tom, and Kira strengthen slightly, their presences in my awareness becoming clearer.
In the next room, Mira looked up from her paperwork, frowning.
"Did you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"Like... warmth. Coming from nowhere. Just for a moment."
"Old building. Probably settling."
She accepted the explanation, returning to her work. But I caught her touching her chest where the oath-binding had settled, a small smile on her lips.
The Heart Crystal was working.
Tom's Perspective
The kid had vision. I'd give him that.
Three weeks ago, the warehouse had been a haunted wreck. Now it was... something else. Not finished, not polished, but functional. The ground floor had transformed into a proper guild hall—contract board on the wall, tables for meetings, equipment storage along one side. The second floor held private rooms, small but clean. The third floor remained Finn's domain, where he planned and plotted.
"You've done this before," I said, watching him review construction progress. "Or studied it. Nobody your age organizes like this without experience."
"I had good teachers."
"Where? You never mention your past."
"Because it's not relevant." His tone closed the topic without rudeness. A skill in itself. "What matters is what we're building now."
I let it drop. Everyone had secrets. The boy's were probably no worse than most.
The contract board filled slowly but steadily. Minor jobs at first—the kind Grevik's Iron Wolves rejected as beneath them. But minor jobs meant minor risks, and minor risks meant we could build experience without losing people.
Mira managed it all with quiet efficiency. Whatever magical damage she'd taken during the wraith fight, her mind was sharper than ever. She tracked expenses, scheduled contracts, maintained records of who owed what and when. The kind of work that bored fighters but made organizations actually function.
And Kira... the street kid had adapted faster than I'd expected. She moved through Oxenfurt's underworld like a ghost, gathering information that would have taken me weeks to compile. Names, locations, rumors, opportunities. Her network of contacts—other street children, beggars, pickpockets—saw everything because nobody watched them.
"You trust them," I said to Finn one evening. "Mira and Kira. Trust them with real responsibility."
"They've earned it."
"They're young. Inexperienced."
"So was I, six months ago." He looked at me directly. "So were you, once. Experience comes from opportunity. If you never give people chances, they never develop."
"He sounds like an old man in a boy's body. Wisdom that doesn't match the face."
"Grevik's been asking about you," I said, changing topics. "Through channels. Wants to know how serious the competition is."
"And what have your channels told him?"
"That we're small, underfunded, and focusing on contracts he doesn't want." I smiled slightly. "That we're not a threat."
"Good. Let him believe that for as long as possible."
The boy had a spine of cold iron under that calm exterior. I'd seen it in the sewers, heard it in the wraith stories, watched it in the way he handled Grevik's initial confrontation.
Whatever Finn Colen was, "harmless teenager" wasn't on the list.
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