Bo wasn’t the only one getting to work. Only minutes after he’d spent the last of his community build tokens, the magic smoker had already changed the community’s home.

The natural stone walls of the casino-turned-cavern now looked worked rather than rough and natural. The sloping curves and corners where the floor and ceiling met the walls had sharpened into right angles that would have made any stone mason proud. Where once natural springs had dotted the floor to provide water for the community’s inhabitants, Bo now saw circular pools surrounded by low stone walls. Even the natural patterns and striations of the limestone took on a more intentional, decorative look.

“This is impressive,” Bo said as Lydia, Slick, Bev, Jenny, and Ms. G accompanied him through the community. “The living areas even have doors now.”

Lydia still seemed more than a little angry with Bo, but she nodded agreeably as he spoke. “As you improve the community’s core, supplemental and decorative upgrades occur naturally. You’ll notice there’s a second level of living quarters above the first, now. Each suite has a common area, two bedrooms, and a restroom. A suite can comfortably hold four people, which makes our current capacity approximately two thousand people. It looks like there’s a room for another level above the second, but after that your advancements will probably make more dramatic changes to your community’s physical layout to accommodate larger populations.”

“What sort of changes?” Jenny asked.

“We won’t know the exact details until we see them,” Lydia said with a shrug. “The core advancement alterations vary depending on the needs and subconscious desires of the inhabitants. The community focus will try to accommodate its residents as much as possible.”

“That explains those,” Bo said, pointing at shafts of sunlight that descended through long slits in the ceiling. “People must have been tired of having to go outside to see the sun. Will those be a security problem?”

Lydia shook her head. “I don’t believe so. There are many of them to provide light, but none of them are large enough to admit a truly dangerous intruder.”

Bo wanted to question Lydia further, to suss out her true loyalties, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place. Confronting her in front of everyone would only make her less likely to talk. For now, he’d do his best to smooth over the troubled waters between them. Besides, he was glad to hear that the openings in the ceiling weren’t a danger. The last thing he needed was a hole in his defenses. And the light certainly added to the cavern’s atmosphere, transforming the gloomy interior into a cozy space that reminded him of the fancy shopping malls he’d visited while Christmas shopping for a past girlfriend. He imagined both were gone now and felt a stab of sympathy for the woman whose only crime had been not wanting to join him on the pitmaster circuit. They’d parted ways amicably enough, but Bo couldn’t see any way that poor woman had survived the chaos that had engulfed the world.

To take his mind off the past, Bo waved at the people of his community as he made his way to the end of the cavern. A few folks called to him from the open doorways of their new homes, affording the pitmaster a look inside.

The living quarters were impressive, though they lacked kitchens or much storage. Still, they were a damned sight better than living out of a tent, an RV, or sleeping on the cold stone floor of the cave.

They finally arrived at the end of the cavern, where four archways pierced the wall. Above the leftmost arch was a stylized symbol of a hammer. The other arches had symbols as well—an open book, a staff surrounded by rays of light, and a shield—though only the archway with the open book went anywhere. The arch beneath the staff, which Bo presumed was for the shrine that he’d refused to build, and the opening beneath the shield, which the pitmaster was sure was for the Defense path, both opened onto small, featureless chambers.

Ms. G rushed past Bo and dashed through the arch beneath the book and into the new library. Bo and the others followed the gnome, who rushed from shelf to shelf, exclaiming with delight as she read off the titles on the surrounding spines.

“Practical Underpinnings of Herbal Magic!” she shouted and slapped her thighs with delight. “Distillation of Mana Essences! A Primer of Pragmatic Prestidigitation!”

And on and on she went, racing up and down the aisles between the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Bo stood with the others just inside the archway, admiring the library. It was a square chamber, roughly fifty feet on a side. The space to the left of the archway held what appeared to be very comfortable chairs arranged before a cluster of desks, their surfaces covered in neatly arranged stacks of blank parchment, pots of ink in a variety of colors identified by their sealed lids, and a stockpile of black feathers standing upright in crystal containers.

Wooden bookshelves filled with books of every size imaginable divided the room into long, narrow aisles. Bo saw drab brown leather-bound tomes, but also elaborately bound crimson sheaves of parchment, blue-wrapped collections of scrolls, and featureless chapbooks with dull black covers. The illumination to see all of this came from globes of warm light that floated near the ceiling.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“This is a bookworm’s paradise,” Jenny said. “Ms. G will be lost in here for days.”

“She’s got a few hours to get her bearings,” Bo said, “and then we have to get to work. She needs to identify folks with magical talent, and then help Slick with augmenting our arms and armor.”

The older man grunted his approval of that plan, then stretched his arms over his head and let out a big yawn. “Let’s move over to the workshop before I fall asleep. I enjoy reading as much as the next old man, but this place feels too much like homework.”

They all chuckled at that, even Lydia, and left Ms. G to her own devices. Her exclamations over every new find followed the group out of the library. Bo had to wonder how anyone could get that excited over books that sounded incredibly boring to him. Still, he was glad that the resident Librarian loved books so very much. That assured Bo he’d made the right choice.

Just as Slick’s long, low whistle of appreciation as they entered the workshop told Bo the older man would soon be a master craftsman with a small army of apprentices working under his tutelage. Unlike the library, which felt smaller than its actual size because of the way the bookshelves sliced it into narrow aisles, the workshop felt open and airy despite its relatively small size. It was fifty-feet long and thirty-feet wide, and the entire length of the room was dotted with workstations.

A trio of glowering forges occupied the wall opposite the archway, with heavy anvils and racks of metalworking tools standing before them. The open mouths of the forges pulsed with intense orange light that wavered behind curtains of heat haze. Stacks of metal bars stood beside the forges, along with heavy hammers and thick gloves and aprons.

The workstations grew progressively smaller, and their tools more delicate, as they approached the workshop’s entry. The heavy vices and clamps needed to secure staves while constructing bows gave way to jigs and carving tools needed to fashion arrows, and then to the small wheels that transformed flax strands into heavy bow strings. Benches along the room's sides held molds and

“You know how all this stuff works?” Bo asked Slick.

“Not really,” the old man admitted. “The cards do most of the work. I imagine the same will be true for the helpers I put to work in here.”

Jenny had wandered over to one bench, where she picked up a very sharp little knife and admired its keen edge. “Then why do we need all this stuff? Shouldn’t the magic handle everything?”

Lydia sighed and shook her horse-like head. “If there was more magic in this world, such as in my home—”

Probably one of the many hells. The magic there is powerful. And I am still not sure we should trust this one and her yearning for Faith. That path is for fools and followers. We are neither.

“—then tools would not be necessary. Here, though, they provide a catalyst to help amplify the natural magic. The efforts of those who use the tools will create magical power that can be directed by Slick and his cards.”

“Sounds good,” Bo said. “Pick your apprentices, Slick, and put them to work. We need to get everyone armed and ready to go. Try not to take anyone who’s already trained to fight, but anyone else is fair game.”

Slick nodded, then asked, “What kinds of weapons and armor do you want? Looks like I’ve got new cards added to my deck with the workshop. We’ve got a choice between normal and heavy weapons now.”

“What’s the difference?” Bo asked.

“Heavies take more strength to use but ignore a couple points of armor when they hit,” Slick explained. “Looks like heavy melee weapons take two hands. I can make shields now, but no one with a heavy weapon or bow can use them.”

Bo furrowed his brow as he considered how best to arm his troops. For once, he was glad when Barbie offered some suggestions. In the end, he had what he hoped was a workable plan.

“I want half of our folks kitted out to be archers. Give the heavy bows to anyone who can handle them. The rest get regular bows, and all the archers wear the lighter armor so they can move faster,” Bo said. “We’ll split them into two firing lines that can roll out onto the flanks to keep peppering the dark elves with arrows after the initial charge. I want an eighth of our troops outfitted with the best armor and biggest weapons you can outfit them with. They’re the heavies we’ll hold in reserve to crash into a flank or break through enemy lines when we get bogged down in hand-to-hand fighting. Everyone else gets the heaviest armor, shields, and spears. That’s our front line. They’ll hold the grunge elves in place while the rest of our troops cut them apart.”

Jenny put the knife she’d been admiring away and leaned against the workbench. “And what about the thunder bison?”

“If we convince them to join our side, they’ll be our ace in the hole.” Bo couldn’t help but grin as he imagined the utter chaos those big beasts would unleash when they crashed onto the battlefield. “They’ll loop around and hit the grunge elves from behind. That should put a quick end to things.”

“And how do you plan to talk to a herd of bison?” Slick asked. “They’re just big cows.”

“Well,” Bo said, giving Lydia a questioning glance. “Their spawn point hasn’t been touched since this whole mess started. The jackalopes developed to the point where they could speak. I hope the bison are even smarter since they’ve had more time with their spawn point.”

The horse-headed monster closed her lower set of eyes and folded her hands in front of her. “That is a likely assumption, though not all animals develop intellect. It’s possible they are simply much bigger and stronger, but no smarter.”

“Fingers crossed,” Bo said. “If we can’t turn them to our side, we’ll just beat the grunge elves with what we’ve got. Now I need to talk to Ms. G about enhancing the gear that Slick makes.”

Bo was still grinning as he headed off to find the Librarian. He felt everything falling into place. He was no military genius, but his plan was solid. He knew it in his heart.

And once he had the bison on board…

He couldn’t stop smiling.

Anyone who led those monsters into battle was unbeatable.