The smell of damp timber mingled with the faint sounds of distant hammering, setting the precarious atmosphere of the settlement. Someone was getting work in early this morning. The morning meeting had barely settled when Margaret cleared her throat.She didn't interrupt often, but when she did, it meant something had already gone wrong."There's a forum post," Margaret began, her voice carrying a deliberate weight as if each word was handpicked and polished. She set her slate flat on the table, a gesture that mirrored the seriousness of her tone. "It's from one of our own."Harold looked up. "Define ours." Margaret replied in her measured cadence, "The name is registered from this settlement, though I don't recognize it." She paused for emphasis. "Posted last night and it's spreading."Harold pulled up the forum and went to the trending threads.It was earnest, proud, and far too detailed. As he read through the post, Harold's stomach tightened, a visceral reaction to the subtle risk it posed. Real housing is going up. Soldiers are drilling daily. Food supply is stable. Healing potions are available. A Lord who actually listens and makes sure we are taken care of. NO CHAOS.It ended with an invitation.If you can make it here, come. It was as if the truth were a coin precariously balanced on its edge, reflecting both sides of reality. It was enough truth to be dangerous, and it didn't exaggerate or lie.Around the table, people leaned in. Beth's mouth tightened. Hale's expression went flat in a way that Harold hadn't seen before."That paints a target," Hale said quietly."It paints a beacon," Margaret replied. "Other Lords are already commenting. Some are impressed and asking for advice. Some are skeptical. A few are outright hostile. It had to be one of the people who came after our original group made that oath. The oath wouldn't allow this post."Caldwell adjusted his papers. "Trade inquiries have tripled overnight. I was gonna bring it up today, but I didn't know why."Harold didn't speak immediately. "They named me," he said finally.Margaret nodded. "Indirectly. 'The Lord here is brewing and selling healing potions.' Enough detail that anyone paying attention can connect dots to the only potions available on the market."Silence followed.From a morale standpoint, the post was a godsend. From a security standpoint, it wasn't enjoyable. The other Lords were only a couple of weeks' march away. They wouldn't be ready for a campaign for a while, but eventually they would, and their eyes would be on him."Other Lords will see this," Hale said. "Some people will see our success and hate us; others will be looking to see if they can steal from us."Harold exhaled slowly, then leaned forward, thinking it through."We need to increase our trade," he said.Several heads turned."More potions, I'll work on increasing output, but we need to get more ingredients."Caldwell blinked. "That will pull even more attention.""Yes," Harold said. "And more tools. More metal. More food. Everything we're short on, and to be honest. Most of the Lords looking at this and commenting have no way to impact us. The distance is impossible to overcome, and I know exactly where the other Lords in this valley are."He looked around the table. "We're surviving on hunting and foraging. That won't scale. We need infrastructure faster than our surroundings will give it to us."Margaret studied him. "You're choosing acceleration over concealment."Harold nodded. "Concealment failed the moment that post went up. So I'll use it."Hale frowned. "And the migrants?""We'll need them," Harold said. "Skilled ones especially. But not yet in bulk. If they can make it here, we will take them. We expand food production first. Secure water. Then we absorb. When we advance to a town and can start making outlying villages, we will need the people."Caldwell nodded slowly. "That's workable, one of the Lords has found a source of gold and silver and is outright buying every potion we can put up. "Let's see how much he really has," he said, smiling.Harold looked at him, "Sometime today, I want to go over what we have earned so far. We need the gold and silver to start a real economy, but I don't want to discount our other needs."Margaret hesitated. "There's something else."Harold looked at her."One of the replies," she said. "It stood out."She turned the slate and tapped a single line.Either this Lord is very lucky, or very prepared, or he was prepared when we got here.The room went quiet.Harold stared at the words longer than necessary."Who said it?" he asked.Margaret shook her head. "It has a name, but there it isn't one I recognize. No settlement tag and no other history."Harold leaned back slightly."Try to find them," he said. The no settlement tag means they aren't associated with a settlement. It's hard to live out there without the support of one. I need to know how close they are."Margaret nodded once. "Already started, and I've got someone running down who started the post."Harold's fingers tapped the table."Alright," he said. "If they want visibility, we'll control the narrative. We understand there are dangers ahead, yet we will choose progress."Beth raised an eyebrow. "You want to respond?""Yes," Harold said. "I'll make a post."Margaret's lips pressed together. "That's a choice."He looked around the table. "We don't deny success. Let's frame it and advertise."A few minutes later, the slate was passed back to Margaret. The content of his post for her to proofread before he opened the forum to post it.FROM: HAROLD'S LANDINGWe are recruiting skilled labor Builders. Smiths. Glassworkers. Cooks. Organizers. Farmers. Administrators. If your current Lord doesn't value your work, we will. We'll pay. We'll protect. We'll build. Come prepared to work, and we will build a future together. No one left hungry, no voice left unheard. Together, we create a legacy.Below the post was a crude map and a mark where Harolds Landing was.Beth exhaled. "That's going to cause a stir; people are still struggling just to survive, and we are trying to get more people.""Yes," Harold said. "But it filters for the right kind of people, and we do need people."Caldwell grimaced. "And the wrong kind, this will help with our trading, but we need more goods to trade."Hale folded his arms. "Then we'll know who's paying attention."Harold nodded. "I'm also hoping to establish us as a frontrunner and leader of humanity. Eventually, we will have to work with everyone, and establishing a solid reputation early will only help us.The meeting continued, but the tone had shifted again.Harold let them gather their things to leave before saying. "Hale. Margaret. Mark," he said. "Stay, please."The door closed. The room felt smaller immediately.Harold rested his hands on the table, fingers spread, then looked up at the three of them."I want to start building a new arm, "he said quietly.Mark frowned. "Soldiers?""Some," Harold said. "Adventurers, too, I want mixed squads."Margaret's eyes sharpened. "Scouts.""Scouts, spies, saboteurs, all of the above," Harold replied.Hale pushed off the wall and stepped closer. "Go on.""I need people who can move far from the settlement and survive without support," Harold said. "Days. Weeks. Sometimes longer. People who can observe, map, confirm, disrupt, or kill if needed, and come back alive."He paused. "We can call them Rangers or something. I'll worry about it later, but I need a way to extend my reach."Mark let out a slow breath. "That's… ambitious.""It has to be," Harold said. "We're announcing ourselves now. That means information becomes a weapon. I need an arm that gathers it before it gets used against us. And can act on my behalf."Harold said. "Soldiers bring discipline and coordination, they provide striking power, and Adventurers bring adaptability and survival instincts. I want people who can function without orders and still act in alignment with our goals."Mark considered that. "You want people who can make judgment calls.""They will need to, yes. Disciplined Initiative is the name of the game." Harold said.Silence settled amongst the group.Margaret spoke first. "Selection will be delicate.""That's why you're involved," Harold said. "I need you to vet them."She nodded once, "I can help with that."Hale added, "I can identify soldiers who can think on their own and show promise with their mana skills."Mark leaned forward slightly. "And adventurers who are willing to work without respawn protection."Harold nodded. "Exactly."He straightened. "This group won't be public. No titles or announcements. They train quietly, deploy quietly, and come back quietly. We can eventually build them an outpost in the deep forest next to the mountains. I don't want you to start training them yet; earmark people for it for now."Hale broke the silence. "When do you want this operational?"Harold met his eyes. "We need to become a town before this can really start, but I will need them before our first year ends."The three of them exchanged looks.Then Margaret nodded. "I'll start.""So will I," Hale said.Mark gave a short, sharp smile. "Guess I've got work to do."They turned to leave, but Harold gathered his slate a little too slowly, already suspecting what came next. He glanced at Hale."Drills again?" Harold asked.Hale's mouth curved into something that could only be described as malicious satisfaction.Harold felt it immediately in the knees."Of course," Hale said. "You don't get to talk about building doctrine and then skip legwork."Harold sighed. "I trained yesterday.""You survived yesterday," Hale corrected. "Different thing."Margaret paused at the door, clearly enjoying this more than she should have. "Try not to bleed on anything important," she said pleasantly.Mark snorted and slipped out.Hale clapped a hand on Harold's shoulder and steered him toward the exit. "Come on, my lord. Garrick's already warmed them up."Harold let himself be guided, muttering, "At some point this crosses into abuse."Hale laughed. "That point was yesterday."Outside, the sound of shields and boots rose to meet them.Harold squared his shoulders, adjusted his grip on the slate, and followed anyway.
