When a muscular hand rose into the air at the back of the crowd, the dark elf immediately called out.
“Yes, Master Druig?” He asked from the druid standing near the door with a pair of wolf cubs sitting by his side.
“I’ve come to you after travelling through the forest of the valley. There’s an urgent matter I must speak about.”
“Do tell,” the spell weaver nodded. “It’s rare for you to attend our gatherings, so it must be quite urgent indeed.”
“During the past week, I’ve found traces of trouble in the forest. Due to the valley lacking in predators, the number of wild boars rose beyond what your land can endure. They’re causing great harm in the forest.”
“Are they a threat to the people?”
“If left unchecked? Yes. They must be culled to at least a third of their current numbers for balance to return.”
“I see. Durnan.”
“Yes, sire?” The dwarven crossbowman spoke from the crowd.
“Organize a group from the guards and those skilled in hunting. We’ll head out tomorrow to cull the wild boar population.”
“And the spoils?” The dwarf asked with a slightly shaky tone.
“The hide and tusks go for the one killing the beast, the meat will be measured and distributed based on contributions. No kill-steal is allowed. We’ll work in groups, so everyone will get their turn. The use of the smoker house will be free this time.”
“Thank you, sir!” The voices of many resounded in the town hall.
“Master Druig,” Regis turned back toward the druid. “Do you have a way to mark the prey so that we wouldn’t hurt the wrong animals?”
“I do,” the man nodded. “I’ll make sure your people will be able to tell them apart.”
“Thank you for your aid. And for bringing this matter to my attention. The last thing we need is a mob of wild boars rampaging on the fields or going after the people.”
Druig nodded in agreement before turning around to leave, the pair of wolf cubs happily trotting behind him.
“Anyone else?” The dark elf asked, earning another bombardment of questions which lasted for the better part of an hour.
When the meeting finally got adjourned, he let out a sigh, watching the people leave.
“That took a bit longer than I expected.” Tristan admitted.
“Yes. I guess we now have enough work on our hands to keep us busy for the rest of the week.” Regis noted, stealing a few glances at Letty as she was chatting with some of the villagers and Sophie.
“I’m afraid so. At least we get to add some extra meat to our stores.”
“Smoked boar ham sounds good. The extra leather is also welcome.”
“Indeed, sir. Shall we get going? You’re supposed to head over to the barracks for an hour-long training before resuming your studies and enchanting practice.”
“Thanks for reminding me. I’ll head over to the barracks. The rest of the day is yours.”
“Thank you. I’ll finish up a few things here and then I’ll leave as well.” Tristan remarked as the spell weaver left.
Letty and the others were gone, but Obelisk Square was still as busy as ever. The general store re-opened after the meeting ended, some of the townsfolk enjoyed a walk around the square while others hurried along to get the most out of the brighter hours of the day. Regis walked over to the barracks, finding some of the soldiers already there.
“I see you’ve managed to find time for today’s training as well.” the dark elf heard a familiar voice call out to him as Grego appeared at the door of the barracks.
“I don’t have any other important matters to take care of,” Regis said. “So what should we train today?”
“Dodging and parrying. You’re already good at stabbing and slashing with that blade staff of yours.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Regis smirked while walking over to the barracks to change into his practice equipment.
The following hour went by with the monotone training session consisting of the spell weaver trying to dodge different kinds of attacks aimed at him. Sometimes he had to block a wooden sword’s swing, sometimes he dodged a wooden-tipped arrow or a hefty wooden mallet coming his way. By the time training ended, he was covered with small bruises and sweat.
“You’re definitely getting better at this,” Grego remarked, still huffing from all the rushed attacks he had to do to train his liege. “If you can keep this up in an actual fight then you should get off with a few scratches to your armour at worst.”
“That’s the plan,” Regis nodded. “Luckily, my runic spellblade class can give me a small boost in agility if needed, but nothing can substitute proper training.”
“On that we agree, lad. It’s a small miracle how you managed to survive this long without actual military combat training. Still, this should be enough for today. I’m sure you have other things to do and so do I.”
“Yeah. I have a foot-long list of items I need to enchant, preferably today.”
“Good luck with that,” Grego shrugged. “Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow.” The spell weaver nodded in agreement before heading over to the barracks to change clothes again.
A quick ‘minor mending’ repaired any damage done to his equipment while simultaneously cleaning it of any dirt and sweat. As Regis walked back toward his manor, he took in the sight of his surroundings and the ever-busy town folk. Obelisk Square was surprisingly loud with children’s laughter, Osmond taking his time to tell some tale from Earth to his future students and their mothers as they came out of the newly built school building that still lacked a roof.
When they noticed the approaching loremaster, the group gave him a unified bow with some of the children happily waving at him. After acknowledging them with a slight nod, Regis walked home. The tall granite walled gate of his manor glowed with runic sigils, dutifully protecting his personal life. The bright sandstone brick path leading to the manor was sided by flowerbeds and neatly cut shrubbery, a decorative gift from Letty to liven up the small yard. As he opened the door, the barrier faded to allow him entry.
“Welcome back, milord!” A firm yet friendly voice greeted him as a white shirt-wearing man walked closer.
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“Thank you, Euric. It’s good to be home.” The spell weaver sighed as he looked at his butler who happened to be the maid Dana’s husband.
“Do you require anything, sir?”
“Yes. Could you ask Dana to make some tea for me? I’ll be at my workshop.”
“Of course, sir.” The man nodded, his short greyish-brown hair swaying back and forth.
Regis walked toward the left side of the main hall, opening a door to a short hallway with four doors evenly placed along its length. He placed his right hand on the second door, a glowing circle of runes appearing on it before several clicking sounds could be heard from the other side. As he opened it, the spell weaver glanced at the thumb-thick enchanted iron bolts on its other side. ‘I don’t know why Letty keeps saying it's an overkill. Seven is a lucky number.’ Inside the six by six meter room, he had four tables, two large wooden shelves, a sofa, and a few wooden crates.
The crates held a dozen swords and some armour pieces and shields, each item having a piece of parchment attached to it. Regis picked up a sword at random, looking it over before reading the note. ‘Tier one durability and sharpness. I guess the Mayoress got new guards and wants to outfit them with a '’standard’ enchanted set of gear. Works for me.’ He sighed as he confirmed that most of the equipment was indeed meant to be standard. There were a few pieces that were of a higher quality, forming an armour set with a fancy-looking steel sword and a kite shield. ‘It’s probably meant to be for some newly promoted lieutenant or something.’ He mused, reading the list of requested enchantments. ‘Whatever. The sooner I get to it, the better.’
Regis shrugged as he walked over to the first table, placing his palm on it. Blue threads of arcana snaked across the surface of the table, forming a ward. He then repeated it with the other three tables, each receiving a different transmutation circle. Dozens of thumb-sized clear quartz crystals were grown over the next half hour, most of them ending up being turned into an elemental stone with the use of another transmutation circle. A gentle knocking on the door distracted the spell weaver for a moment before the soft voice of Dana could be heard from the outside.
“Milord, I brought you your tea.” She said.
“It’s open.” The spell weaver answered and the maid entered the room with a fancy and polished steel tray that held a well-crafted clay teapot and a cup.
“Thank you,” Regis hummed as he accepted the warm tea. “I really needed this.”
“Of course, sir. While I’m here; do you have anything you’d like for dinner?”
“Well, it’ll only be me since Letty wanted to spend the evening with her sister, so nothing fancy. Just cook whatever Euric and young Dana would like. I’ll be fine with that as well.”
“Oh, alright.” The woman perked up when her daughter and husband were mentioned.
“I leave you to your work then, sir.”
“Thank you.”
After the woman left, Regis drank a cup of tea and spent the next half hour repairing the equipment pieces between short meditation sessions. He then began to enchant the armour and weapon pieces one after the other, spending several hours in his workshop, emptying the content of the teapot in the process. By the time he was finally finished, the sun already hung low outside the window of the hallway. ‘Looks like I managed to finish just in time.’ He thought while closing the door of the workshop, locking it firmly with the magic seal. He made his way to the dining room where the table was already set, a young girl of fifteen sitting there, talking with Euric.
“Good evening, milord!” The young girl greeted him with respect immediately when he entered the room.
“Good evening, Dana. How was your day?”
“I... it was good, sir. Really good. I finally managed to cast my first fire bolt spell.”
“Oh,” the spell weaver hummed while sitting down. “So soon? Congratulations. How long has it been, three days?”
“Two and a half.” She noted with a slight blush.
“That’s a good pace for someone of your age. Shows that you have a talent for fire magic.”
“Thank you, sir,” she sighed. “It’s nothing really special. I’ve heard that you and your friends managed to cast it near immediately after trying it.”
“It’s true, but you shouldn’t compare yourself to us. Outlanders have to pass through the void to get here, which naturally attunes our new bodies to magic more than that of an ordinary person. We also have a Shardwaker’s mark to help lessen the burden on our minds, so theoretically, any outlander with the right stats and enough arcana could learn to cast a spell in an hour or two. Once you prove yourself at the guild, we’ll see about the possibility of getting you a mark as well.”
“I,” Dana muttered in shock as she looked at her father and then the dark elf. “Thank you, milord!”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Regis chided. “A Shardwakers’ mark comes with great responsibility.”
“I know.” She nodded solemnly.
“On the bright side of things, we have a boar hunt on our hands tomorrow.”
“I’m sure the people are more than happy to attend,” Euric remarked. “In most fiefdoms, it’s usually only the lord and his soldiers who get to hunt. Both the meat and the pelts are for them to do with as they please.”
“It’s not like the entire town is going to attend the hunt with pitchforks and whatnot,” Regis noted. “I’m sure Durnan will only allow those to join whom he believes are capable. As for any excess meat and pelt, those will be cured and treated before being stored in the warehouse.”
“Having more lasting supplies for the winter is always a good thing,” the older Dana said as she walked into the dining room, pushing a wheeled cart that was covered with fresh food. “I remember the last winter at our previous home. The local lord didn’t prepare fast enough and quite a few people ended up starving.”
“I doubt that’s even possible here,” Euric sighed. “With all the magic and advanced farming methods his lordship and his companions brought to us, we can harvest crops every few weeks now. If anything, we have a fair amount of surplus to sell off. I heard Tristan mention the last time Miss Nina travelled to Rust-well Keep, she managed to sell several crates of vegetables for nearly three gold.”
“Three gold?” the younger Dana muttered. “That’s a lot of money.”
“It’s not surprising, given their size and quality. But enough of that. We shouldn’t bore his lordship with such things.”
“It’s not boring at all,” Regis said as he accepted the bowl of thick vegetable soup from the maid. “If anything, it enlivens the house. I must admit, I kind of missed the old days when the entire gang lived in the inn. The manor gets too quiet sometimes.”
“I’m sure it won’t stay that way for too long, sir. Thornfell is growing at a steady pace, People are hoping to settle down in a safe place like this and there are still plenty of empty plots inside the wall’s protection for them. A few more maids would be more than welcome to help keep the manor clean and I’m sure Miss Letty will soon decide to live here for good as well.”
“Dana.” Her husband cleared his throat, trying to remind the woman that she might be speaking out of terms.
“That’s alright,” the dark elf waved at him. “I don’t mind Dana speaking her mind. Still, both of those matters are up to the future. For now, let’s just enjoy our dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” Everyone agreed as they began to eat their share.
Diner went by surprisingly quietly and Regis decided to turn in early after having a bath. His new bed was a lot better compared to the one he had to sleep on back at the inn, making him wake up well-rested the next morning.