Bruce and Amelia seated at their worn but sturdy dining table, a spread of scrolls and tomes laid out before them. The atmosphere in the room is thick with a blend of tension and determination. It's been a day since the enigmatic raven from Odin delivered its foreboding message, a day since Victoria, Alice, and Rose departed on their perilous quest to rescue Ed.

"We have to think about layered defenses," Bruce says, his fingers tapping on a parchment that depicts a rudimentary moat and palisade design. "If we set up the palisade behind the moat, any creature trying to get through would have to go through multiple obstacles. It would slow them down, give us time to pick them off."

Amelia nods, her gaze intently focused on another diagram that suggests the use of pitfalls covered with foliage. "Yes, but we also need to think about those who can bypass such defenses—flyers, jumpers, those who can tunnel underneath. We need something for them too."

Bruce's eyes narrow in thought. "Right, which brings me to these alert spells we found in the Market Crystal. We could set up a boundary alert spell that notifies us when a group of more than 20 enters the designated area. That should help us catch any large-scale invasions before they get too close. Additionally, we can place another set of alert spells in the ground just inside the wall; these will detect any digging or tunneling attempts. Both types of spells are relatively cheap and integrate right into our system interface."

Amelia perks up at this, her eyes lighting with cautious hope. "That's excellent, Bruce. With these layered alert systems, we'd have early warnings for both land-based and subterranean threats. Do we have enough resources to set up an effective number of these alerts?"

Bruce sighs, thumbing through a digital screen that appears as he waves his hand over the Market Crystal. "They'll cost us, but I think we can afford to spread them out efficiently. It's a gamble, but not as much as ignoring Odin's warning would be."

Amelia nods, glancing down at the tomes they've purchased on fortification. "Speaking of Odin's warning, I can't help but worry about Sinclair. He's out there somewhere, in the midst of whatever trials are coming."

Bruce smiles, a mixture of pride and concern on his face. "Sinclair is strong, stronger than either of us ever was at his age. If Odin entrusted him with whatever mission he's on, I have to believe he's got a fighting chance. Our son is a survivor, Amelia. He's got a knack for beating the odds."

Amelia smiles back, her eyes softening. "You're right, of course. Our focus now should be on doing what we can here, preparing for what's coming."

"Exactly," Bruce affirms. "And the first step is laying down these alert spells and finalizing our defensive structures. Time's not on our side, but let's make every second count."

They both nod, a united front against the looming unknown, as they turn their attention back to their preparations.

Bruce and Amelia spent the next few hours planting the sensors. They were deployed by placing them on the ground and through an interface for each they would burrow down into the ground. Once down tendrils of small wires would spool out and spread through the ground ready to detect any movement.

Once they were done with this task they retired to sitting at the house eating lunch and talking about the sensors and the work in general. They watched on their maps and system screen the progress of the sensors. As each one uncoiled more wire the new status bar on their shared screen progressed.

It did not take long for it to trigger on some subterranean creatures until they put in more parameters. It wasn't until later that day that they got their first scare though. The alarms on the North end of town went off that a large group was moving directly for them.

Bruce and Amelia prepare to undertake the short but nerve-wracking trek to the northern ramparts of their village. It's not the distance that worries them; it's the uncertainty that looms heavy in the air. The tension mounts ever since the alert spell had been triggered, signaling the approach of a large group from the north. The raven's message from Odin reverberates in their minds, blending with the quiet dread that fills the space between the few structures that comprise Wolf's Run.

The barren landscape only intensifies their apprehension. The fledgling community is still in its early stages, with just three barracks erected for defense and housing, a storage shed that serves as their supply hub, a single house they call home, and a barn that stands empty, awaiting livestock they've yet to acquire. Each structure is not just wood and nails but a symbol of their struggle to establish a new life. Every step they take toward the wall is laden with a fear born not of the immediate moment, but of an unnerving future whose shape is yet unknown.

They reach the wall and ascend to the ramparts, eyes squinting against the harsh glare of the late day sun. From this vantage point, they see dark shapes moving on the horizon, slowly resolving themselves into distinct forms. A tension-filled silence envelops them as they await either the arrival of reinforcements or the approach of an unknown threat.

Finally, the group draws close enough for individual figures to be discerned. As they approach within shouting distance, one figure separates from the mass and steps forward. An elder among the Beastkin, his posture and aura command immediate respect.

"We were led here by a raven," he calls out, his voice carrying over the open ground, tinged with an accent they don't recognize. "We were told we might find sanctuary here, and in return, offer our aid. Are you the keepers of this place?"

Bruce and Amelia exchange a relieved glance. Odin's raven had done its work, guiding potential allies to their doorstep. The fear that had built up during their tense wait begins to dissipate, melting away under the warmth of newfound hope.

"Yes, we are," Bruce calls back, stepping forward on the rampart. "I'm Bruce, and this is Amelia. You're welcome here."

The elder nods, turning back to signal his group. As the Beastkin begin to move forward once again, Bruce and Amelia feel a weight lift off their shoulders, replaced by a cautious but growing optimism. Help has arrived, and just maybe, Wolf's Run stands a fighting chance.

As the gates swing open, Bruce and Amelia step forward to welcome the newcomers. Their eyes roam over the diverse throng, taking in the variety of races and unique combinations that make up the Beastkin community. Feline features mingle with avian plumes; scales contrast with fur. It's a living tapestry of what the Beastkin are—a united but varied people, each carrying the essence of a different animal spirit.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Elder Dorgran, the Beastkin who had first addressed them, steps through the gate, his eyes taking in the sparse layout of Wolf's Run. "Where are your people? I don't see anyone here."

Bruce catches Amelia's glance before addressing Elder Dorgran. "We are a small group at the moment, as most of our community is currently away, engaged in their system tutorials. It's a complex situation, but I assure you, we can delve into it more once your people are settled."

Pointing to the area near the Eastern wall, he continues, "The barracks over there are available for your people to use, and you can park your wagons along the south side wall; there's ample space there. Around the corner, you'll find a well house for fresh water."

Elder Dorgran nods, his eyes reflecting a calculated understanding as if filing away each detail for future reference. "Very well. Let's get everyone situated first, and then we can discuss further arrangements."

Bruce and Amelia watch as the Beastkin begin to move, their wagons creaking and animals chattering, a new layer of complexity added to their fledgling settlement. As they disperse to find their places within the confinements of Wolf's Run, Bruce and Amelia share a quiet moment of gratitude. For now, at least, they aren't alone; and in this world where uncertainty reigns, that counts for a lot.

Watching the youngest members of the Beastkin community scamper around, their laughter ringing through the air, Bruce and Amelia share a heartfelt smile. The children chase each other in innocent games of tag, their youthful energy contrasting with the somber tasks their elders are focused on.

"It's good to have children around again," Bruce murmurs, his eyes meeting Amelia's.

She nods, her smile widening. "It brings life to the place, doesn't it? A reminder of why we fight and build and hope."

The couple stands there for a moment longer, soaking in the scene. Despite the challenges that undoubtedly lay ahead, the presence of the children—playing without a care, at least for now—infuses the atmosphere with a sense of potential and promise. It's as if their laughter creates a shield against the darker aspects of the world outside the walls, and for that brief moment, Bruce and Amelia allow themselves to bask in the lighter side of life.

Gesturing for the Beastkin elder to follow, Bruce and Amelia lead the way through their burgeoning settlement. The tour is short, yet it encompasses the essence of their hopes: the barracks standing tall and unyielding, the well house promising essential sustenance, and the open area where wagons and other supplies can be securely placed.

The elder, whose name they learn is Talgrin, observes intently, occasionally offering nods of approval or asking insightful questions. Once the brief tour concludes, Talgrin turns to his accompanying kinsmen, issuing directives in a steady voice. Efficiently, his people begin to unpack and set up, turning the empty barracks and open spaces into a hub of activity.

Satisfied, Talgrin joins Bruce and Amelia, along with two of his trusted advisors, for a more in-depth conversation. The quintet makes their way to the main house, the structure that serves as both a home and a meeting place for matters of importance.

As they settle into seats around a rustic table, cups of freshly drawn water before them, Bruce clears his throat. "Now that your people are settling in, perhaps we can discuss the larger situation at hand."

Talgrin, the elder who had first addressed them, nodded thoughtfully as he settled into a chair in the main house's modest living room. "You mentioned a long story earlier," he began, his eyes locking onto Bruce's. "We arrived with minimal details—only a promise that we would find a haven here. But as I look around, the place seems deserted. Could you clarify?"

Bruce leaned forward, his eyes meeting Talgrin's. "Absolutely, Talgrin. You see, my wife Amelia and I are relatively new to this system ourselves. We've been pouring over guides and trying to understand how best to fortify this place. Your expertise would be invaluable in that respect."

Amelia chimed in, her voice filled with a reassuring warmth. "To address your concern about the apparent emptiness: we actually have seven other members in our community. They're currently away on various errands or quests, unaware of the looming beast horde when they departed. Our son technically owns this land; we're serving as its stewards."

Another elder, whose furrowed brows had been revealing his skepticism, finally spoke. "We didn't come here to be sacrificial lambs. We're willing to help, but we won't bear the brunt of the charge when the horde arrives."

Bruce nodded, understanding the gravity of the elder's concerns. "I completely get where you're coming from. Rest assured, when our other members return, they'll be fighting alongside you. In the meantime, consider that you're still safer behind these walls than you would be out on the road, using your wagons as your only shield."

Talgrin nodded, visibly warming to Bruce's words. "You speak fairly, Bruce. We'll contribute as best we can. I noticed you already have a Market Crystal. If it's alright, we'd like to make use of it."

"Absolutely," Bruce agreed, gesturing toward a table scattered with parchment and drawing tools. "Feel free to use the Market Crystal as you need. We've sketched out some preliminary plans for defenses here; we'd greatly appreciate any insights you could offer."

Dorgran leaned over the table, peering intently at the plans and accompanying images. His finger traced various routes and pointed out structural elements, offering both commendations and critiques for what had been planned so far.

Amelia, catching the flow of the conversation, added, "We've stored some resources in the Market Crystal already. Unfortunately, our other members were called away before they could contribute more."

Talgrin looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "That's quite alright. Many of us are strong and willing to work hard to protect our families. Given that we're expecting a beast horde, it might be wise to concentrate on digging a moat outside the walls. We should also consider installing drop traps and small spiked walls to funnel the creatures through more manageable channels."

The room filled with a renewed sense of resolve. Each suggestion, whether about fortifications or shared resources, served to knit the group closer together, turning a gathering of strangers into a budding alliance, united by common goals and the drive to protect their newfound home.