There was a ritual to putting the horses to rest at the end of the day. Now that several of his companions had the animal handling skill, it was a group ritual. The shared movement would make sure that the horses would hold up for the long term.

Making sure that the herd was ready, Finley turned to the people. As the only person who had been able to create cards from pieces, he welcomed training another. The real worth of the cards lay in their potential. That being their magical ability and the ability to trade them.

The accountant card could do wonders for him if he wanted to cook books for a gnome. He didn't and didn't see the need for an accountant without an economy, or for that matter taxes. As he was setting up his frame, the absence of taxes and levies by local lords would make his life so much easier. But also without the local lords, he wouldn't be protected from wild beasts.

Bob sat at his side while he prepared the slate, moving it into the frame configuration he needed. Then he sniffed.

"What?"

The card pieces were all in good condition, minus a few hairballs. It wasn't really a thing that they could avoid. Finley hadn't ever been someone who hunted beasts for their cards and thus hadn't dealt with the visceral reality. Bob was getting an easy way out with his summoned power.

That smell hit hard. The cross between acid, wet cat and copper made a potent mix. They had chosen to do this nearby the creek, mostly for that reason. Finley extended the frame to hit the right position for the six rectangular pieces, slotting them around.

"Is there anything we can do to affect what kind of card is made?" Bob said.

Bob's breath caught for a second, then he began to have a coughing fit.

"The mana that the card maker has can change things a bit. Andrew's ability to take mana for his artificer projects is similar to how we use mana here. It's hard to visualize it without a bit of pressure. You have to imagine the mana dropping out of your hand. As if you're squeezing a fruit for its juices."

Finley demonstrated the hand motion.

"Nice and easy. Let the mana flow through you. Stop it at your fist. Now gather more, like you are creating a puddle in your fist. And try to form it into a sphere. Good. Once the sphere is solid, give it a little squeeze."

Bobs face was a mask of concentration. Then a terrible scent rose up from his nether regions.

"Silent but deadly," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Finley had to take several steps back. He had never expected such a sneak attack from someone that he was teaching. The combination of eldritch hairball and Bob's terrible diet overpowered his senses. It was a scent that would haunt his dreams.

That was when his own lunch decided to make a surprise cameo.

---

Stella and Sophie watched the pair from the middle of the river. Finley was ralphing into the stream, thankfully further down the way. The after would move that particular problem away.

"I told him that he needs some more fiber in his diet," Stella said. "Serves him right for skipping the roughage."

"He really didn't think about the consequences of his actions, did he?" Sophie said.

With only their heads and shoulders above the water, it wasn't clear to outside observers how deep the water was. This was of course by design.

Sophie grabbed her drink from the floating block of ice, subtly guiding it back up stream. She took a deep sip of the dwarven ale. She would need a clear head for her watch shift tonight, but for the time being?

She clinked glasses with Stella.

The minuscule head of foam moved ever so slightly.

"To Bob, may he eat broccoli," Stella said, raising her glass.

"To Bob!"

---

Sonya drank her third mug of ale. She'd expected the alcohol content to be higher. It was closer to a mean IPA than the stout that her body craved. Her hands had stopped shaking after the second one. Something about using her mana so much had made her feel drained. It was like someone had sucked the life out of her with a bendy straw.

She was grateful for Anthony for not putting her on watch duty until the morning. Though she could see in the dark, that took mana. There was something going on with her skills.

She felt the urge to perform a ritual. She had no idea what it was but it felt aligned to her pact skill. There had to be some source to her power, something that like Ca'at was an outsider. She wasn't entirely sure if she should be calling them up right now. She wasn't even sure that she could.

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Whatever it was didn't cost mana.

That wasn't the only reason that she had considered it. Anthony was still busy going over the next days plans. She'd absented herself from the deliberations when the ale was broken out.

There was more important things to do. She'd held back long enough, hadn't she? She deserved this little treat. She looked over to Anthony.

*And that big treat.*

---

Anthony wrapped up his planning. The last person he spoke with was Andrew. The dwarf had given him some information about the specifics of what he wanted for some of his projects. They had sorted through what salvage had been taken. There were far too many ornamental weapons that held no value in actual combat.

Now they both had a good understanding of the specific things that Andrew could make. Anthony was excited by the potential for skill powered muskets. It wouldn't be the same as his holy bolt finger guns. It might be better though.

Plus someone wearing his scrub top had been making eyes at him for long enough. He finished off his mug and made his way over to her.

"You alright, lady?"

"I would be more alright with some company," she said.

"Ah. I can get Sophie if you want company," he said settling down next to her.

She had been sitting against the way stone. Once he spread out his legs, she made her way over to him.

"That won't be necessary."

He wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into him. They hadn't really talked about what this was. That was probably for the best. Anthony didn't know what was going to happen the next day.

There wasn't anything special about how she felt. The slight feel of her warm skin warred with the cool night air.

"Are you alright?" He said.

"I'm pretty fucking far from alright," she replied, snuggling in closer. "But you're going to keep us safe, right?"

He could feel her breath catch. Just for the slightest moment, then it resumed.

"I'm going to keep you safe."

"Good. Now tell me about being a midwife. I need to hear something normal."

Anthony leaned back against the cool stone.

"The first thing you need to know is that every mom has a birth plan..."

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

Finley and Brandon were on watch far after the sun had fallen. The other three on watch were doing slow laps around the way station.

"You want to know about the tinkers? I'll tell you about them. But first, what are your thoughts about violence? Because there is a code that all tinkers follow."

For the first time, Finley got a prompt to add someone to the family.

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

"Alright. I don't want to steamroll anyone, but the consensus is that we start before dawn," Anthony said. "Those of you that want to ride in the wagon and sleep, there's enough room in there as well as in the caravan. Also, we have to figure out a naming convention if we're going to expand to three wagons like I hope we can tonight."

The rousing speech was given the floor by virtue of half of the people napping. The watch shift had been making sure that no trace was left behind. All of the junk from salvage had been meticulously picked through and sorted for anything useful. The rest had been buried in a far corner.

Anthony hadn't said anything about the why for it.

They all knew.

Linens that could be converted to usable bedding had been. Though some of the people went without sleep by choice, Anthony had given them some time to rest. With about an hour until dawn, they began the trek back.

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

Sonya wasn't the first to throw up from the back of the caravan. After she woke up in the front of the caravan next to Finley and Anthony, she was the last.

The moving cart felt like home. It was the plate of food that churned her stomach. Empty only for the brew that it had spent all night with, then it rebelled at the first contact. The three men attempting to sleep in the caravan did not appreciate the noise.

They were all quite thankful that the smell wouldn't stay for long.

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

The monks had gotten significantly faster. As the mansion became a dot on the horizon south of them, the two scouts returned with a report. Their blistering speed reminded Anthony of those marathon runners that kept a solid pace for miles. It was close to inhumanly fast, and according to Brandon one of their skills.

If he got a chance for a Monk class card, he damn well was going to take it. Finley had worked out some complicated system of how he was going to give out the cards that they salvaged and he respected that. He had requested specific items from the card store called deck boxes.

They had found two at the first mansion. A third was half destroyed but unusable. Something about the boxes allowed people to use them without putting cards into their soul deck.

Removing cards from one's soul could be painful. Class cards were doubly so. The problem, as Finley explained, was that there was a limit to how many cards one could slot in their soul. After a certain point, one had to use a side deck if the wanted to increase the amount of cards they had in regular usage.

He held out the card that he was considering slotting into his soul deck. The image of a sprinter, poised to run dominated the copper card.

Common Skill Card: Speed Enhancement

The wielder's base speed is increased by a third.

This card was one of the five that he would need to create a monk class card. If he saved up his part of the haul, he might have it soon. For now, though, it would go into his soul deck. He needed the speed and there didn't appear to be any drawbacks to the card. Some of the common cards were very particular.

Finley had decided on a system where everyone would get a certain amount of card pieces each day. Right now, he set it at one common piece a day. This would get everyone a new card every six days.

They could trade them up for rare or uncommon pieces at some rate. Bob and whoever killed the zombies was responsible to turn in pieces so that they could be given out equitably. It wasn't enough to survive out here. They had to do more. Part of that was going to be making sure that they didn't give one person all of the cards.

Finley would also hold the pieces for everyone in his new magically enhanced drawer. The subtle card magic of the pieces helped his power somehow. Anyone was welcome to cash out whenever they were ready. Finley and Bob would help create the cards with the pieces they got. Bob because he thought that his quest powers might ping as a part of card creation; Finley because he knew what he was doing.

Anthony trusted the elf. He'd have been dead otherwise. But he also liked that he would be getting an allotment of cards. Everyone else seemed to like the idea as well. It was a little something to look forward to.

There hadn't been a lot of that recently.