Walking together, Darius, Marcus, Ethan, and Chad explored the newly upgraded village. “Don’t you think this place could do with a little color?” Ethan asked.

Darius nodded in agreement. “While it’s nice that everything is more uniform, all made of Stone now, you’re right. All the grey makes it rather dreary.”

“We also need a flag or something, you know. To let everyone know who we are when they approach. Oh, you know what would be totally fire? You should have your own crest, like in the medieval period.”

“I don’t know… I mean, what would I even use for a crest? And where would we even get a flag in the first place?” Darius asked.

“Imagine if I could enchant the crest to move, like a hologram. No cap, that’d be amazeballs.”

“While Ethan’s ideas aren’t all that bad, I don’t think it should be a top priority right now,” Chad said.

“It might not be a bad idea to have some kind of symbol people could rally behind, help everyone feel like a community,” Marcus countered with a thoughtful expression. “Symbols can be very powerful if used right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Darius said.

“Gucci, I’ll do some sketches on my down time then,” Ethan said, excitement practically radiating out of the young man.

The four men stopped for a moment and took in the new Brewery and Tavern that stood before them. Both had a robust and solid look about the construction. It kind of reminded Darius of a miniature fortress, and had overlapping slate tiles covering the roofs. They entered the reception area of the brewery first, through the solid wood doors reinforced with iron bands. It was a functional-looking room with sparse furnishings. It had a simple desk a short few strides from the front door. The only other thing that could be seen from the entryway was a simpler wooden door behind and to the right of the desk that led further in.

When they walked through that door, Darius couldn’t help but whistle his appreciation. The expansive room stood fifteen feet tall and dominated by the massive brewing vats and fermentation tanks. The Vats were lined up in a neat row with a series of pipes and hoses connected to each of them. It looked like it would allow for an efficient transfer of liquids during the brewing process. The entire room was illuminated with large, tall windows that let in ample sunlight, making the steel vats shine. As Darius walked in, he noticed the floor was slightly sloped and spotted a drain in the middle of the floor, and a huge floor sink in the corner with a hose wound up and ready to be used.

“Damn, you could brew thousands of gallons in here,” Chad said. The admiration was clear in his voice. “Where are you going to get all the materials?”

“I’m hoping we can eventually grow what we need, but until then, we’ll be forced to buy from the System Marketplace. Hey… um, do any of you know how to actually use all this stuff?”

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Chad encouraged. “I’ve brewed my own beer before, but nothing on this scale. I’m pretty sure this is the mash turn. You add your milled Malt here, mix it with water and cook it until all the starches turn into sugar. Then the whole mix is passed through the Lauter ton, here. that filters out the solids, so all you are left with is the wort.”

“Wort?” Darius asked.

“Oh, I know that one,” Marcus said. “That’s the sugary water that’s actually what gets fermented by the yeast.”

“Exactly,” Chad said. “Usually, you boil the wort for a while to sterilize it, stop the enzymes from doing their thing and thicken it up a good bit. This is also where you add the hops and other additives you want for flavor. You filter it again to remove any solids, like the bits of hops. Finally, it gets the yeast added to it and that turns all that sugar into alcohol and carbon dioxide. Once it’s done, you bottle it or put it in kegs for storage.”

“How long does that all take?” Darius asked.

“Well,” Chad said, “All of this usually only takes four or five hours, but it can take a couple of weeks for the fermentation process. Oh, look, there’s a distiller there too. That means we’re not limited to just making beer or wine, but we can also make brandy, whiskey and even vodka.”

“Good to know,” Darius said. “Thanks for the brewing lesson. You wouldn’t happen to want to oversee this, would you? Do you want to be the Village Brewer?”

“I don’t actually-” Chad started to say. “Hey, it just offered me the Village job of Brewer. If I accept, it says I’ll get the Brewer skill at rank 1.” Chad stood there and thought about it for several long minutes before continuing. “Okay, how about this? I will take the job, but I’m not going to be stuck in here all day every day. I can take on a helper or something. Teach them what I know and get the process started, but I really want to focus on my alchemy. Also, I’m still a fighter, so I won't stay behind when we need to go out and deal with the undead menace.”

“You got a deal; I’ve got no problem with you getting a helper or two to help run things here. You’ve got a better handle on it than I do.”

Congratulations,

You have filled a Settlement Job for your Village. The Village Brewer is now Chad Johnson.

Chad Johnson’s Brewing skill is currently Rank 1.

Village Morale increase by .01 per day (Max +100 Village Morale).

Congratulations, your skill Administration has increased.

Administration Rank 7: +14% to base productivity bonus, +7% resource efficiency.

“Well, since you’re the official Village Brewer,” Marcus said. “How do you want to handle this?”

“What do you mean?” Chad asked.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Darius echoed.

“We need to get this Villages Economics up and running,” Marcus said. “I think this is the perfect place to start. Right now, Darius technically owns everything, except for the Library and the workshops, anyway. He’s been feeding and housing everyone for free. That’s great in the short term, but it's not sustainable as we keep growing and bringing more people in.”

Darius felt rather embarrassed at being called out like that. He didn’t really feel like a Baron, or even a landlord. He knew his uncle was right, though. Running everything out of his own pocket was expensive. “What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“The way I see it, we can either pay for all the materials needed, and pay Chad a salary to run this place, and pay his helpers to do the same, and then sell the drinks to the villagers. Doing it that way, Darius keeps all the profit. The other option, Chad here rents the Brewery, he gathers or pays for the resources needed to run it, but he keeps his share of the profit from the sales at the tavern.” At Darius’s look of confusion, Marcus rephrased it. “We either keep Chad on as an employee or as an independent contractor that rents the space from us. We get the rent money; the village gets tax revenue and Chad keeps most of the profit. If we do it that way, we, or whomever runs the tavern, will have to buy the alcohol from Chad and, in turn, sell it to the villagers.”

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“How much would rent be?” Chad asked suspiciously. “I don’t know if I have the credits to get everything up and running from next to nothing. To be honest, I thought y’all would be providing the materials, at least to start.”

“Well, I only just thought of it. We also need a market square or something so people who make stuff can sell them to each other. Eventually, we can charge people rent for their homes. They can also pay to have their own homes built with the system, or hire someone to build one for them. Once we get around to having someone with the building skill or something. We really need to start planning for the future, not just survival right now.”

Darius rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long groan. “Okay, I’m picking up what you’re putting down, uncle. Can we talk about this later? It's been a long ass day, and I’m feeling exhausted. How about we finish touring all our new buildings, get some sleep then you can, I don’t know, come up with a long-term proposal or something we can go over? How does that sound? That work for you too, Chad? Ethan?”

“Yeah,” Chad agreed. “That works for me. I’d rather have concrete numbers to make my decision on, anyway.”

“Does that mean I can get paid for my enchanting?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Marcus agreed. “And yes, Ethan, that means not only you, but everyone supporting the Village will get paid for the work they do.”

After checking out the storage room behind the brewing room, and seeing it was already stocked with racks of fifty-gallon wooden barrels, hundreds, if not thousands of bottles and oddly enough, a large pit on one side that had a drain plug at the bottom, they moved on to the tavern.

The front door was the same heavy wooden door, but it also had a pair of crystal-looking lanterns that could be turned on to provide a warm and welcoming light. Inside, they were immediately greeted by a large room filled with sturdy, round wooden tables and chairs. The floor was polished stone tile and a crystal candelabra hung from the ceiling, casting light to every corner of the common room. In the far-right corner sat a ten by ten-foot stage that was about a foot off of the floor. To their immediate left, running almost the entire length of the room, was the polished bar with plenty of empty shelves behind it, waiting to be filled with potent libations. Looking around, Darius could tell that it could comfortably seat thirty people, more if people didn’t mind standing while they drank. Darius saw a pair of doors towards the back, and when they explored them, they saw that there was an outdoor seating area enclosed by a low wall and an awning that extended out to the wall. The other door led to a short hallway that included a pair of bathrooms and, at its end, a storeroom and the back door of the building. There was ample space to store all kinds of drinks, with racks made to hold both wine bottles and the huge beer kegs. The only thing Darius hadn’t seen was any cups, tankards, or glasses to drink from.

“Are we going to have to buy cups and shit for this place?” Darius asked. With all the talk of paying people for the work they do for the Village, the fifteen thousand credits in the village account and his own seventy-five hundred felt like all too small of a number. Each added expense weighed heavily on his broad shoulders.

“We shouldn’t need to,” Marcus replied. “With all the raw clay you brought me, I should be able to fashion all the cups, bowls, and plates we might need. I’ve already begun processing it. The tools in my Workshop are quite handy. In fact, I have a bunch of clay already broken down into a powder and have it soaking in some water. The processor is able to use that slurry and adjust the water content to what I need for a given project. I’m actually planning on making my first experimental pieces tomorrow. I hadn’t decided what to make first, but seeing the need, I can start with mugs. Should be easy enough, I think.”

One less weight on his shoulders, Darius showed the others where he placed their newest addition, the Training camp that was upgraded to a Rank 2 base before he could even see the Rank one building. They had to leave the villages walls for it. Chad’s first words accurately voiced all of their first impressions. “Damn, now that is a Fort!”

The Walls stood ten feet tall, but they had crenulations going all the way around, giving cover for defending Soldiers. Four Towers, each extending ten feet above the rest of the walls covered each corner of the compound, with a ten by ten-foot-wide peaked roof over the top that gave three hundred sixty degrees of sight, with enough coverage to give protection to those on sentry duty. The gatehouse was formidable, with a massive set of double doors, each seemed more Iron banding than wood. The gates opened up to a pristine courtyard. The clean gravel path crunched underfoot as they walked in.

A large building stood to Darius’s left. The stone work seemed rather rough but looked sturdy. When they checked it out first, they found out it was the Soldier Barracks. It’d been broken up into three sections, each one with Ten beds, five along each wall with a chest at the foot of the bed and some kind of rack that looked like it would hold the soldier’s weapons and armor. The barracks were very spartan, no decoration, and with a single crystal light fixture in the middle of each section. Fortunately, the mattresses were comfortable enough, far better than sleeping on the floor had been.

Across from the Barracks, Darius saw what had to be the Officer’s quarters. The building was smaller than the Barracks, but it actually had windows looking out into the courtyard. Inside, each of the rooms were furnished with a full-sized bed, a desk, chair and a wardrobe. One room was larger than the other three, and Darius was sure it was meant to be for the sergeant. It had a queen-sized bed, a larger desk and its own private bathroom and shower. The other three looked to have to share a bathroom down the hall, though it was more comfortably appointed than the soldier’s communal shower.

Next to the Officer’s quarters was the mess hall. This actually reminded Darius of his high school cafeteria. There were three long tables with benches on either side, and one round table that had four chairs spaced evenly around it. It was clear one was for the officers and the others for the soldiers to sit by unit. Along the back wall was a cutout area, where he could see a basic cooling facility, one capable of feeding three dozen people at once. There wasn’t much else to the building, so they moved on.

Next to the barracks, was the communal showers for the soldiers. It was similar to the one the campground had. The toilet stalls were pretty normal looking. The showers, though, instead of having private rooms for each shower stall, they had walls that were tall enough to cover the body, but still show a person’s head and high enough off of the floor to see the feet of the person showering. It wasn’t the best in terms of privacy, but at least it wasn’t just a large room like some seventies high school shower room.

The far end of the courtyard held an interesting building. One half looked like a large classroom with individual desks, a multitude of shelves waiting to hold books for study, and a massive chalk board. With erasers and fresh sticks of chalk waiting to be used. The other side of the building held a cold forge, anvil and several workstations, complete with tools capable of sharpening weapons, repairing armor, and any other equipment maintenance the soldiers would have need of. It was all very impressive.

Through the hallway that divided the two halves of the building, the last door in the complex opened with a gentle touch. Beyond stood the training yard. It was an expansive space of packed earth, its surface still fresh and unmarred by drills or combat practice. The area was enclosed by the tall stone walls, their surfaces un-scuffed by weather or battle. The training dummies stood in perfect lines, untouched, and the air is still, awaiting the shouts of commands and the clash of weapons that would soon fill the space. Not only were there melee and ranged targets, but off to the side, with a freestanding roof protecting the equipment from the weather, was a fully stocked gym. Punching bags filled with sand hung from heavy chains, free weights, bench presses and even treadmills were all found there. It had been years since Darius had gone to the gym. Before the system wiped away any trace of excess fat on his body, he’d been developing quite a paunch, and most of his clothes hadn’t fit right.

“Damn,” Chad swore. “I can think of several people who would be willing to join the army just to have access to these facilities. Any idea who you’re going to recruit? You said something about three corporals and a sergeant were needed, right? Definitely need to find the right people who would be qualified to fill those roles.”

“Yeah, I’ve been try-“ Darius’s reply was cut off when he heard shouting coming from the direction of the Village. Without stopping to think about it, he activated his Power Armor and tried to launch himself into the air. The power armor formed around him, but when he tried to take flight, all he’d gotten was an error message.

Error: Flight system–Offline.

Swearing at himself for forgetting how much damage his armor still had that needed repaired, he ran through the base and out the gates as fast as he could, the others quick on his heels, though Marcus seemed to lag behind.

As soon as he passed beyond the walls of the base, he saw a group of four armed men surrounding two others who were carrying a stretcher between them. As he studied the situation, he thought he’d recognized one of the people standing on guard. “It’s okay,” he called to Chad and Ethan. “I think these are the people from Elysium. They brought their scout that’d gone into the fog.”