The deal was struck. Gibbins didn’t object to the non-aggression pact. They worked through some more details, including preparation for the arrival of Horn’s dwarves. Horn even got the location of the Free City. It was around two days from his mountain pass and laid on a river island, giving it both a defensible position and access to fresh water and fish.

Hearing that Arvanti had enough food as it was, and the whole expedition here was for leather allowed the leaders to strike another deal. Horn’s dwarves would relinquish the leather from their kills but get all the meat they could carry.

With hunger staved off, at least for a while. Horn was happy to enjoy the evening. Eating good food and chatting with a fellow player was a relaxation he needed. As hours passed, the atmosphere eased into playful banter. Using translators, they exchanged tips and shared some of their experiences. It was fascinating to hear about Gibbins's adventures in his tutorial. It was similar yet different. The puzzle challenge was more of a jump challenge, with rewards waiting on the top of a long climb. The tribe conquest turned out to be a trading competition, with two players buying up pieces of a neutral village. Horn shared his stories, not all of them, and especially not the rewards. Neither said anything about the exact size of their clans. The trust had to be earned.

After some time, the discussion came back to the matters of other tribes. Gibbins had quite a lot of information about them. Horn’s people were the fourth he approached for an alliance. Despite not having might, the mayor was growing to be a diplomatic powerhouse of the area. Horn took mental notes. That was something new for him. Usually, he worked alone, but the implication of allies seemed too important to pass up.

“Arvanti is located on a wide river coming out somewhere in the mountains, through the plain and into the dark forest. We’re in the middle between the two zones. There’s a gnome tribe a day’s journey to the north, digging out a hill for their village. In the dark forest, a group of elves was spotted and warned my scouts not to enter under a threat of death.” Gibbins said slowly to allow Joran to translate,

“The savannah is mostly unknown for now. We just entered it, the herd grazing was the first thing of interest we found, but the Gnolls have to be somewhere nearby. I hope your people will find us before they return in force. My scouts are keeping their eyes open, but last time they missed the threat. Down south, we’ve found a fresh battlefield. Dozens of orcs scattered the ground, with a few ogres accompanying them. Either they fought each other, or their enemy cleaned the ground as there were no other bodies. The situation is changing daily, and I fear there might be more dangers out there, but frankly speaking, I’m lacking manpower to send more scouts.”

Before Horn could reply, Ingrid took the lead, “I’ll commit ten of my riders to help with the exploration. Who should they coordinate with?”

Gibbins smiled as Joran translated. He bowed deeply and said, “Joran will be your liaison. Thank you for your help.”

Horn kept quiet; Ingrid’s imitative surprised him. He caught himself still thinking of her as his champion, but the truth was she was making her own decisions. If he would be frank, then she did so anyway from the beginning. The thought made him chuckle, gathering three questioning looks. He just shook his head and said, “Excuse me, that was a long day. Tomorrow the rest of my people should arrive, we’ll load up any meat you can spare, and I’ll set back with it. Ingrid, would you like to stay behind and coordinate our joint efforts?”

She replied in dwarvish, “Pumpkin, that’s a wonderful proposal, but I can’t. My people need me back home, and the situation between our clans is still fragile, and I need to keep it under control.”

Nodding, he agreed, “You’re right. Goran is coming with the main group. I’ll talk with him to coordinate our efforts here. We need to get back to the valley sooner than later.”

The mention of the valley brought a worried look to his face. Gibbins had to see that, as he looked thoughtful. It made Horn uneasy, so they wrapped the meeting quickly and left. Horn took a moment to talk with his riders. In the end, three of them perished. The new trait saved a few lives, as even critically wounded managed to use it at the last moment and recover. Overall, based on the size of the battle, that wasn’t a bad score. The dead were covered in canvas, awaiting the wagons to take them back to their home. There will be some heartbroken dwarves back home, but that was the price of colonizing. They knew what they were getting into.

Horn was surprised that so far, none of his veteran warriors didn’t ask for easier assignments. Repeatedly he lost half of his forces, yet no one backed away. It was both surprising and made him proud of his people, and they were a stubborn race.

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

The next day went in a blur. His caravan arrived at noon. The sight of a hundred strong group made a ruckus in the encampment. However, it was shortly cleared by Gibbins, explaining their arrival to his people. He didn’t spread the news earlier, either not believing Horn or not seeing the reason to do so. Horn took a mental note of that to ponder on it later.

Some of his people groaned when they heard that most of the wagons would be heading back immediately. In the end, they split the new arrivals in half, with hunters and half of the warriors reinforcing Gibbins’s group, while the rest of Horn’s people would make delivery back home before heading out again.

It took a while to convince Goran to remain at a camp. The dwarf was surprisingly stubborn to head back. In the end, Horn had to order him to stay, and even then, the champion kept pouting.

The wagons were quickly loaded with meat, and with a few hours till sunset, the caravan was on its way. The route would take two days.

Horn was torn between wanting to forge ahead, check on his city, and keeping the caravan safe. The cured meat on the wagons would stave off the hunger for a while. A diet consisting primarily of buffalo stake might not be the healthiest, but for sure was going to improve morale. In the end, he decided to stick with the wagons.

That gave him time to read into the Tome of Might. The book was similarly interesting, showing different kinds of exercises to improve one's physique. On top of that, it talked about using the correct muscle group while moving, fighting, and lifting heavy loads. Besides reading, he spent hours with Ingrid, slowly learning the trade language. The task would take weeks, but the earlier he’d start, the faster he’d be able to finish.

On the second day of the journey, he realized it was almost time to log out. He claimed his city within five days, then spent the next four trying to set it up, only to set out on a great hunt, which took another four. Tomorrow was the day of the logout. The time flew by, and he wished he could keep playing. If it would take a whole day again to go through tests, he’d be gone for two days in the game, and there was too much to do.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

With a caravan half a day away from home, he decided to get there asap. He took some of his riders, leaving the wagons in Ingrid’s capable hands, and set out. They arrived at the border fort just as the first stars began shining at night’s sky. They were met by a group of ten guards. When they realized it was their chieftain, another ten emerged from shadows holding crossbows. Horn was surprised to see them, or rather that they could hide so well, but that reassured him that at least they were cautious. He told them that wagons were coming back and left for the main settlement.

They arrived well into the night. The distance wasn’t huge, but trotting down and then back uphill through a dark forest slowed their pace. Horn was pleased to see a few more guards at the top of the ramp. They were a bit less alert than the ones in the pass, but it was still an improvement. Arriving on top, he almost dropped from Snouty’s back. The ruins transformed in these few past days.

Seven longhouses were finished, with lights shining through closed shutters, with an additional three in different stages of completion. On the other side, some dedicated smith was banging in a full-blown forge. Next to it, the frame of a future crafting hall was taking shape. They even started on a townhall, as he saw foundations already laid down. Grom made a hell of progress in these four days.

Despite being pleased, Horn was already thinking about the changes in their planning. They had to prepare warehouses and some kind of cold storage for all the incoming food. A smokehouse or two was a must. He went looking for his builder but was shortly intercepted by his spymistress.

“Good to see you back so soon,” She started,

“Good to be back, so what did I miss?”

“There were several developments, you should be aware. Firstly, we had seven fatalities. One in a building accident, a log wasn’t properly secured and dropped, crushing builders’ helper. Another fell from the plateau, probably a drunken incident, but I’m investigating, and five died in a mineshaft incident. Follo…” Sigrid reported emotionlessly, but Horn stopped her.

“What mining incident?” His good mood instantly evaporated. He wasn’t home a few days, and they lost seven dwarves? The hell was wrong with this game!

“Not a mining incident. Our miners managed to open a passage into the old mineshaft. I’m happy to report that it's still full of several metals. I’ve ordered Giri to pre-“ Sigrid continued, but Horn’s wave of hand again interrupted. She sighed and added, “The mine is infested with ratlings, a humanoid kind of rat. They are able to use simple tools and seem to even use the metals out of the veins in the caves. They jumped our miners in an ambush costing us five of them. I’ve discussed the issue with Herrak and issued a clan quest to clear it. Three parties went in at noon, yet none returned yet.”

“Damn!” Horn shouted they needed that metal. He was already planning ratocalypse in his mind, but Sigrid just kept talking.

“Secondly, noises were heard from the main tunnel. Our excavation effort was grounded to a stop. We are unsure what lives behind the rumble, but I’ve decided to stop investigating that way for now. Thirdly, half of our human guests want to leave the plateau and set out to claim their own land. I’ve convinced them to stay until you have time to discuss that with them. Fourthly, we had two incidents between our clanmates and the Dawn Riders, no casualties, but a few broken bones, but we should look into that, and finally, I’m glad to report there were no further thefts, nor killing of animals. Our food stocks are critical. The easy forage was picked clean in the valley, and the income of foodstuff is minimal. “

Horn pondered the news for a bit. His mood went sour quickly. On top of that, he realized he had less than a day to wrap the things up before logging out. He ground his teeth. There wasn’t enough time! Seeing her Chieftain sulking, Sigrid said, “We’ll handle it, bit by bit. It's really not that bad. Well, the food situation is bad, beside it, we’ll pull through. We are the Lightforge!”

Simple words made the difference. Horn realized he didn’t have to handle everything alone. “Of course we are! Go to sleep, we’ll meet in the morning. I want that librarian Portius? Grom, Herrak, you and that Sergeant – Rockbitter? Oh, and get me that head miner.”

“Of course, I’ll organize the meeting.”

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Horn was in a foul mood. After the Sigrid revelations, he couldn’t sleep. His body ached after hours in the saddle, the boars were impressive war mounts, but they sucked on long-distance treks. The short legs meant many more steps for the same distance, and each step was a literal pain in the backside. The lack of food wasn’t any better. The rations were small, and before the wagons arrived, he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Thankfully his late arrival meant that the news of his return spread slowly. He managed to be on the sidelines up until the meeting. In the chamber with the Soulwell, his advisors gathered. Each brought a short summary, mostly repeating what Sigrid told him last night.

The only bright points were news from Herrak and Portinus. The former said that one of the parties returned from the mine, proclaiming the first two levels cleared of ratlings. However, the vermin came from deeper underground, so the adventurers held the position at two pathways deeper into the ground. They requested reinforcements. Which created a problem on its own, as Herrak claimed they’ve done their job and would retreat in a day time. He would send another party deeper to scout ahead, but the main push was over for now. He argued that his adventurers needed better equipment to tackle further exploration of the mines.

The librarian, on the other hand, finished the census. Horn finally got an overview of his clan, and it even included the dwarves that left with him on the hunt. The list was long, so he decided to skip it for a moment. Instead, he started issuing orders for his absence.

First, he gave a new building order to Grom. The architect grumbled about girls changing their minds and Chieftains having too much free time, but finally, he agreed. The plan was simple, keep working on longhouses with one of the crews but employ all remaining builders in creating a warehouse, cold storage dug into the bedrock of plateau, and two smokehouses. Then they would return to the previous build sites.

Secondly, he argued with Herrak again to send more people into the mines. He had to budge on equipping them, but only after they ensured miners could do their job. The adventurer seemed content enough that he didn’t argue about the second request. Horn asked for two parties to head out of the eastern pass to scout and find other tribes.

Thirdly, he asked Giri – the head miner, about the minerals in the mine. Horn quickly regretted the question as the man launched into a lecture about different veins and purities. From a fifteen-minute monologue, the only thing Horn understood was the fact that they were in business. The mine had both copper and iron veins, to say the least. Coal was an issue, but as long as there was enough lumber coming in, the smiths could work with that. The expenditure would be astronomical, but steel would be available. If they could get miners working safely.

Then it was Sergeant Rockbitter's turn. The dwarf was with him almost from the beginning. He fought the goblins in the first challenge. He dove into the dungeon. He joined the fight against the ogres in the arena and survived the challenge helping Sigrid to kill off the last necromancer. Both Goran and Sigrid praised the man, so Horn, with a smile, said, “Sergeant Rockbitter, you’ve been through a lot with the clan. But now, the clans need you more than ever before. With new people joining and our scale increasing, we need men like you. Hereby I promote you to the rank of Captain. You will be second in command after Goran, who will groom you to take over his responsibilities one day.”

The dwarf’s face went through all colors of the rainbow. Horn was stumped seeing this. When Rockbitter turned green, he was worried for a second. But then, all blood drained from the Sergeant's face, and he whispered, “No, no, please no.”

Horn heard the plea, but he ignored it. Even if he wasn’t willing now, Rockbitter seemed to be the best candidate available, and as the army’s tradition on Earth, the unwilling volunteers were always needed. So, he loudly said, “Thank you for these kind words! The clan is grateful for you to pick up this burden. Our Scholar will discuss the details with you after the meeting. Dismissed!”

The mention of Sigrid proved that one can remain alive without a drop of blood in his head, as the freshly minted Captain turned from pale to paperwhite. There were some claps around, and the gathered dwarves cheered a bit, while Horn barely held laughter inside.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, and with a few last words exchanged in a whisper with Sigrid, Horn logged out.