Aide Isbrigal confided that he had leapt to volunteer as their guide around the town, and he and her mother quickly resumed their conversation about fish.

The Mayoral Hall was one of the few stone buildings, and room to grow had been maintained by putting up a split rail fence around an extended yard. That expansion was happening even now as log-frame additions brought the total size of the building to about the size of the fronts for the Free Lancer Compounds in Va'Veltan and Va'Savine. It even had shallow steps up.

Isbrigal led them up and into the building, and then down a hallway to the left. They passed two closed doors before the Aide knocked at the frame of a third door and opened it, revealing an office with a map of the town on a side wall, and shallow rows of drawers behind a broad desk.

"Isbri, what can I do for you?" the man sitting at the desk asked after barely looking up from the ledgers in front of him.

Their guide performed introductions, identifying the man as Mister Kesturn, the Head Land Clerk. "Kes, what plots are available to purchase at this time?" he finished by asking. Kesturn gestured to the map on the wall. "I've marked the sold plots in yellow, red for growth reservations, and put bare pins in the promised lots. No one has been willing to lay down a claim fee for the unmarked lots, and as these are Sir Brais's guests, if you let me know which plots you want to look at, I'll put viewing pins in them to give you till the end of tomorrow to lay a claim on what you're interested in."

Isbrigal explained the different parts of the city as they reviewed the map. He turned to Kesturn and asked, "Am I reading this right that only the new farming plots are available for sale?"

"Yes."

"How long have some these claims lingered?" Isbrigal frowned at a large number of bare pins clustered to the northwest, near the farm plots.

"Since the rule change Mayor Thumbrad instituted preventing people from shifting their claims just before the farming plots were established. It's the abyss damned Lancers trying to monopolize the pathway to the dungeon. They'd've tried to claim the farming plots already if they could get more lackeys to put down the claim fee, but they are having troubles finding more pawns." Kesturn sounded aggrieved.

Cerise asked, "What is the claim fee? Does it apply toward the purchase of the land, or is it something else?"

Kesturn said, "The fee is a deposit of good faith. With the malarky the Free Lancers have put us through, it's now a branch for every field, which is five times the purchase prices. Use the land for the purpose under which you receive the title and that will purchase the land and pay your liens for the next decade."

"How many [Farmers] are able to afford that?" she asked.

"Sadly, so far none," Kesturn admitted.

"And how many [Farmers] would be willing to work the land if someone else paid for it and then leased them the land for produce from their farming equivalent to that annual lien?" she asked.

Kesturn grinned. "I can provide you a list of at least thirty [Farmers] who would leap at the chance."

"How much of that land has to be under cultivation and how much may be used for housing and personal work spaces? Also, if there is a produce shop on that land, is that reasonable? If so, could the shop also sell prepared foods and home crafts from the [Farmers'] families?" Cerise held up a hand at the frown she saw developing on Kesturns' face.

"I ask because my father would rather mine and my mother cook and make alchemical aids, but we also want to be good neighbors, and helping to ensure that everyone can eat is a good start. It's also, I think, self evident that [Farmers] don't just marry [Farmers], nor do their children always grow up to be yet more [Farmers]. Denying those family members opportunities to prosper in their own pursuits just doesn't sit right with me."

Kesturn's frown softened into thoughtfulness. "Isbri, I'm going to trust you to watch my office while I go get the mayor."

Two hours later, eight [Farmers] entered the Mayoral Hall, heard the pledge being offered, and immediately offered their imprimaturs. Cerise handed over eight gold coins, leaving her with two gold coins and the equivalent of five more in smaller denominations, funds she and Mykhal had withdrawn quietly in Va'Savine after considering whether Sea Crest would even have a gold coin if the dungeon was only dropping large coppers at best.

The [Farmers] collected their families while the Mayor walked with them to their new land, along with two [Surveyors] to help mark out the sub-leased plots. The western plots were under her mother's writ and the eastern ones her father's. The shop would be on her mother's lands and so would the house they would build for themselves.

On their way, they heard yelling. A yip of pain and thick voice slurring a shouted, "leave me alone!" had Cerise and Mykhal racing to the scene, quickly followed by her parents and Mayor Thumbrad.

Cerise saw three boys and a girl taunting a young man with a distorted face, throwing clods of dirt at him. They were jeering, "Soft head's a stupid head!", "Go feed the monsters!", and "Dance for us, soft head!"

The young man was pressed up against a building, his arms up to shield his head from the pelting.

Cerise grabbed two of the boys by their arms and twisted them up behind their backs, making the boys scream in shock more than pain. Mykhal grabbed the other boy and her mother caught the girl before she could run.

"What Abyss-spawned horror infested your souls to even think of doing such an abominable act!?" Cerise's mother roared.

The boys sniffled and gasped. Cerise released their arms and grabbed their ears.

"I'm waiting for an answer!" Bergin roared.

The children started crying. "Please! We didn't mean no harm!" "It was just some fun!" "No one got hurt!"

"You blind idiots! What kind of fool do you take me for!? That wasn't 'fun'! That was harming a member of your village! That was blasphemy before Solaris and anathema thrust into Lunaria's lap! Do you want the gods to forsake us all as less than goblins?! Because not even goblins throw rocks at their own! Do you?"

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Cerise turned the two boys to face her mother. "You heard her! Do you?"

"No!" the children cried, now earnestly weeping.

"Where are your parents?" the mayor demanded, stern faced and grave.

"They's working! Please don't bother them over this! Dad'll skin my back! Please! I promise I won't do nothing like it again!"

Cerise looked to her father. "Papa, would you please take hold of these two brats? I need to see to the young man."

He nodded and took a grip on boys by the backs of their necks. Cerise crossed to the young man, who was still crouching against the wall. He had at least lowered his arm to stare at her, his eyes wide and frightened in a way that broke her heart.

She tucked that sympathy behind a stern [Healer's] face. She did not want to waste time convincing him she was safe, so she presented herself as an authority, allowing the young man no opportunity to argue with her or question her right to act as needed. "I am going to use a diagnostic skill on you. If you are sensitive to mana, it will tickle. You may laugh."

The fear in his eyes turned to confusion, then his eyes widened as her Diagnose skill traveled over him. He didn't laugh, but he made some weird faces.

Cerise pulled out a jar of her latest batch of Healing Salve and unstoppered her water bag. "You have some bruising and the start of a nasty bump. I'm going to clean you up and apply some of this salve. Can you use an Identify skill?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Good. While I'm cleaning you, Identify this salve and tell me what you see. You may also Identify me. I give you my permission. May I Identify you?"

Slowly, unsure of himself, he nodded. While she Cleansed him, she used Appraise.

Name: Matais of Sea Crest Dungeon Village

Race: Human (Simple)

Strata: Freeman

Class: (None)

Health: Low, Hurt

"You have a big name," he said.

"Can you say 'Cerise'?" she asked, done with the Cleansing and moving on to applying the Salve.

"Cerise," he said, having a hard time with the sibilant sounds.

"That's all you need to call me, though to be polite, you should probably call me Miss Cerise, and I shall call you Mister Matais. Do you like that?"

He smiled, laughing as the magic in the salve obeyed Cerise's Heal skill to fix the bruises. There was still fear in the back of his gaze, as if he had learned too well to be wary of strangers

Cerise stomped hard on the rage that thought brought up. The young man didn't need her rage right then.

While she was working her skills, a man came running up. "Matty?" he was yelling, parental panic in his voice.

"Over here, mister!" Cerise called.

The man charged toward them. "What are you doing to my son!?"

"Healing him, good mister. You may Identify my. Pay attention to my class," Cerise instructed.

She felt the wash of his mana. "I--ah. Miss ban Silverwood, I--."

"Cerise. She said to call her Miss Cerise," Matais said.

"Yes, I did. Is this man your father?" she asked.

"Yes, he is! His name is Jiotian and he is a mister, like me!" Matais said, a lot of the fear disappearing with his father's arrival.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Good Mister Jiotian. Mayor Thumbral has the miscreants in hand who abused your son. That matter shall be taken care of. Mister Matais permitted me to Identify him, and I noticed he is as of yet unclassed. Is it too rude of me to ask why? I'm new to the south and the reliance on dungeons for classes, so I'm not sure how that affects classing rites."

Cerise's calm manner and authority befuddled the man, and he choked on his words a little as he began to adjust. He answered, obviously distracted, "No one will take him through to the classing room. We don't have enough to pay for a Silver team and none of the Bronzes will take him because they say it's too dangerous."

"You have to pay the Free Lancers to go through the dungeon?" she asked.

"The dungeon is too dangerous for those of us without a combat class," Jiotian said.

Cerise frowned. "Well, that's just wrong! Mister Matais happens to be mana sensitive. Did you know that? A lot of the simple are." She didn't wait for an answer, just continued. "Any how, when my team leader and I finish our assessing run, we'll have a better idea of what may be needed to bring Mister Matais through safely."

Her healing was done, and Cerise suddenly realized she had been rude. She capped her salve and said, "My apologies, Mister Matais, for failing to ask, but do you want to be classed?"

"Yes!" Matais said. "Yes-ye-yes-ye-yes, yes!"

Cerise smiled at his enthusiasm. "Mathias, look at me." She waited until he calmed enough to meet her gaze. "It will be a long latter from now." She shook her head. "Not today. Not tomorrow. Mykhal and I need to go through the dungeon first so we know what we need to watch out for when it's time to bring you. After we know that, we may need to train with you."

Her father came over. "Cerise, how is everything here?"

She introduced everyone around, and explained about the classing. Her father and Jiotian were soon speaking friendly, and they learned that Jiotian was a [Mason] and a [Miner] who had come to Sea Crest after his wife's death, hoping to find work. They had only found simple labor as Jiotian couldn't leave Matias alone for as long as a trip into mine in the dungeon would entail, and all the building going on was with wood.

They weren't engaged today, and Matais had slipped away. The young man shame facedly admitted that he had wanted to buy a pastry. Her father asked what the rate for simple labor was and he and Cerise were surprised to hear it was about a large copper a day.

"Oh, you may think that's a lot," Jiotian said, misreading their expressions.

"No," Cerise's father said. "Not after food and lodging. I tell you what. We're going to be needing help building on our new land, field fences and simple homes. We can pay you a large each and feed you. Can't do much for lodgings at this point, but if the labor is agreeable enough to you, we can keep you on to the spring equinox."

"We don't need pity," Jiotian said.

"Good," her father answered. "I don't have much of that. What I do have is a lot of work in front of me and a need for assistance."

And like that, they resumed their progress to take possession of their new home.

The land hadn't been stripped of trees, but quite a few had been felled to expand the wall to encompass the fields. There were stumps that would need to be ripped out to clear fields and construction sites. The [Surveyors] got to work sectioning off the lease areas and the [Farmers] weighed in on which parts of the plots needed to be cultivated fields. Each plot was five fields in size, of which three fields had to be actively cultivated to comply with the zoning.

Cerise's family were keeping eight fields, one for their use and seven for a grazing commons for their tenants and themselves. They were leasing the rest under a village sanctioned lease. That meant that they had paid the claim fee and were entitled to two silver leaves worth of produce from each [Farmer] while the village gained one silver leaf's worth of produce. These lease fees were due annually. Each plot should easily produce that much in a year, assuming only two decent harvests. The [Farmers] stood to make a good profit if they got the more normal three to four harvests in annually, the benefit of living where it did not snow.

The [Farmers] were all of at least initiate level so three fields each was taking it easy. The seven fields to be used in common were intended to be pasture for draft beasts, and possibly a pond for attracting migrating ducks or geese.

Cerise and Mykhal stuck around long enough to ensure her parents had everything in hand. Then they returned with Isbrigal to Sir Brais's manor to collect their belongings. Cerise knew her father would at least have the start of their house done by night fall.

It would be weird, she thought, to sleep in her own bed once more. When it was built, that was.

Sir Brais and the Treborant Cousins rode back with them, enjoying Isbrigal's description of the deal her parents had struck. Sir Brais looked to her at the end of the telling. "You suggested all that?"

"Oh, no!" Cerise denied. "I asked questions to figure out what the needs were. I'm not a [Farmer]. I wouldn't know where to begin sorting out how they do the magic they do. Nor do I have any idea how much food a village or town really needs, especially in a land without snow. I'm glad my questions helped the people who know more to come up with a happy plan, and even happier that my parents were willing to go along with it."

When they got to the newly purchased land, Mahayan asked if she might be allowed to practice her Geomancy by forming bricks from the dirt inside where Cerise's father had marked out the hole for their cellar.

Cerise and Mykahl departed for the Free Lancers Guild with their commissions to turn in before they could be handed a pickax or a shovel.