Two men stood on ladders and held up a newly carved sign over a large cabin at the center of the Low District as Reida looked up and directed them.

“There, perfect,” she said, and the two men pulled hammers from their belts and began nailing it down. “Reida’s Bows and Arrows,” she read, and a smile formed across her face.

“Finally, you have a real store,” Mark said, strolling toward her. He wasn’t about to miss the grand opening of the first proper storefront in Fort Winterclaw.

“Honestly, I never saw myself making bows for a living. I can tell you though, it certainly beats foraging for rigar bark.”

“Good to hear because it’s a great help to Winterclaw having you around. I look forward to seeing what more we can create.”

“Thank you for everything, Imperator,” Reida turned to Mark. “It wasn’t long ago that we were barely managing to survive in the wilderness and now my family has almost anything they could want.”

“Thank me after we defeat the wargs. We just barely survived the cultists, and I get the feeling things are only just starting to warm-up.”

“If anyone can beat them, I have a feeling it’s you.”

"Thank you for your vote of confidence."

“Why does the old bird get all the love?” Payon interrupted, stepping up to them from behind.

Beside Reida’s store, another cabin was going up. It was to be Payon’s smithy and armory once it was completed. However, unlike Reida, who funded her business entirely alone, Mark provided the coin for Payon’s business. Not that the decision was particularly altruistic. No, it was an investment to help facilitate smithed goods since they were currently sold through market stalls and orders were taken and then sent to the smithy within the Imperial District via multiple proxies. By giving the commoners direct access to a shopfront, Mark hoped to cut middlemen out and free up manpower for other jobs.

“Quit complaining. You were given a shop like a child,” Reida huffed.

“She’s just bitter because iron and steel goods sell better than her flimsy bows.”

“Flimsy? Shut it, smith,” Reida growled.

“Good to see my budding businesses are already growing competitive. Just do me a favor and keep the rivalry productive, okay?” Mark said.

“There's no ill blood here,” Payon smirked as he eyed Reida. "My smithy will be the most popular business in town."

“Like the gods it will be. But you don't have to worry about me, Imperator. You can count on me to keep it civil,” Reida added, glaring at Payon. "But I can't promise I won't retaliate."

“Good,” Mark slowly nodded and turned away.

Let’s pray I haven’t invited a problem into the fort by pushing those two against one another.

Walking back through the Low District, Mark stopped at another cabin he had ordered built.

More and more ferals had been entering the fort over the last couple of weeks. It was largely fueled by all the wealth they had come into. Mark had more than enough iron to offer wages to anyone willing to help rebuild the fort, and a safe home with access to trade was more than enough to catch the attention of the wild people who lived in the dangerous forests and squalor. This led to an excess of manpower once the repairs were completed, so Mark put his new builders to work on building new cabins.

“Is it big enough?” Mark said, stepping beside the priest Altono as he watched the construction of his cabin and healing building.

Mark hadn’t decided to trust the man entirely yet, but he didn’t have the liberty to waste his skills.

“It’s more than enough, Imperator,” Altono replied.

Altono’s powers were limited, and Mark wasn’t sure that one priest would be able to keep up with demand, but if he could provide healthcare to his people, it would be one more benefit to living within Fort Winterclaw and one more potential means of luring more people to him.

“Good to hear. I’m hoping you can improve the health of my people.”

“I will endeavor to do as much as possible,” the priest bowed. "But it does look like you'll keep me busy."

"I'm sure I will. But if I can help you keeping people healthy, let me know. I'll do what I can to make your mission successful."

"I appreciate it, Lord Imperator," the priest bowed again.

Mark nodded and patted the man on the back.

With the defenses returned to a functional state and the boom of development ongoing, Mark felt confident about their future for the moment—at least whenever he wasn’t thinking about the looming threat they needed to face.

**Elowen**

“What’s taking so long?” Elowen snapped her fingers at Dober as she paced the overcrowded corridor of the storeroom. “I thought you could read now.”

“I can. Some words just confuse me a little,” Dober sighed. Keeping up with the endless lists and new items flooding into the stores had slowed him back down to a pace resembling how he had been when he was first asked to help with the storeroom.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I need to rely on you, farm boy. I still need to visit the treasury and the bank to check accounts today. How am I supposed to find time for all of this if you can’t hurry up?”

“I’m doing my best, I swear.”

“Your best is hopelessly inefficient.”

“Why don’t you ask the Imperator for more help then? Aren’t you two like buddies?”

“You want me to look incompetent? He has already given me three staff members, and now you want me to go begging for more? Do you have any idea how that would make me look?”

“Nowhere near as bad as you probably think,” Dober grumbled under his breath.

“No, it is,” Elowen tapped her chin. “But it's silly to rely on you and the others to up your game. If I'm to improve performance, I'll have to do it myself. What I need is a better system. What we’re currently doing has too much overhead and complexity for simpletons to keep up with and it's slowing us down. I’m going to have to work on something simple. Something so easy even a child could do it.”

“Jeez, what a vote of confidence. Ah, whatever, do what you want,” Dober groaned. “Just don’t increase my workload, please.”

"Shh, farm boy. I'm thinking here."

**Callum**

“What did you think you were doing out there, Acolyte?” Henric barked an inch from Callum’s face as they stood in the Imperial District courtyard between two cabins.

“My duty,” Callum said, stony-faced, his eyes staring straight ahead.

“Your duty was watching the inner walls. You were out in the Low District running around with your sword. I didn’t give you permission to go play hero, did I?”

“No, you didn't, Arms-Master, but I did what I believed right.”

Sighing and slumping his shoulders, Henric shook his head. “And you were bloody good at it. Damn it, you’re still a kid. But our situation isn’t exactly ideal. I hadn’t planned on doing this… ever.”

Callum swallowed.

Glaring into Callum’s eyes, Henric placed a hand on his shoulder. “My past failures are the reason I’m out here in the Frontier; I want you to understand that before you agree to anything. These failures are the reason I never intended to do what I’m about to, but I have a feeling that if I don’t, you'll do something stupid. Not giving me a lot of choice in how I handle this. A stubborn boy like you running around without proper guidance is just going to get yourself killed. So, with that being said, I want to offer you an apprenticeship under me.”

“Y-you want to make me an Apprentice Arms-Master?” Callum gritted his teeth, and his cheeks reddened as he barely managed to restrain his excitement.

“That’s correct, Acolyte Callum. Do you accept this offer?”

“I do,” Callum nodded. “Yes, of course I do. I accept ten times over!”

“Great. Hopefully, I can help you stay alive because you’ll make a fine Arms-Master one day.”

**Erin**

“What you doing, annoying girl?”

“Shut up, you big brute,” Erin growled at Trayox. “I came to see the nice members of your family.”

“Arinie inside with the babies,” Trayox grunted with a nod towards his front door.

“What are you even doing?”

“So much work,” Trayox shook his head, placing hammers and axes into packs. “More and more men working. Now I just organize all day.”

“Your underlings have grown in numbers so much that you don’t have time to work on the tools yourself, and you’re mad about it?” Erin scrunched her brow. “You really are odd… that isn’t the kind of problem people usually complain about.”

“Speak for yourself, annoying girl. I don’t like this stuff. Hands-on is best for me. This stuff is all silly, jobs for silly people like Imperials.”

“Suffering from success, so sad,” Erin rolled her eyes. “I feel really bad for you, you big meathead. Hopefully you can get over being forced to be a leader.”

“How you so annoying? You never get a husband like that.”

“I’m sixteen—like I even want a husband,” Erin stuck her tongue out as she passed into the cabin.

Inside, her face brightened as she spotted Arinie. The mother's skin was as bright and soft as it ever was, and the twins were getting bigger.

“Erin,” Arinie beamed. “So happy you here.”

“Oh my,” Erin grinned, rushing to the twins. “Look how big these two chonkers are getting.”

“It all Trayox,” Arinie smiled.

“Obviously,” Erin grumbled. “At least they got your looks,” she added, smiling at the babies trying to roll onto their stomachs on the bed.

“They start crawling,” Arinie said, helping the babies onto their bellies to show Erin.

“That’s sooo cute.”

“Yes, it is.”

“By the way, Arinie, they weren’t scared, were they? You know, with everything that’s been happening.”

Arinie shook her head. “They not even know.”

“That’s comforting to know,” Erin cast a sober smile at the babies. Surviving the winter felt so much more urgent when she was looking down at the innocent little twins.

**Clay**

“I can’t believe they’re making me go again,” Clay murmured to himself as he packed the wagon.

“Why the glum face?” Leonard said, throwing a sack of goods onto the wagon.

“What do you mean? You almost got me killed last time, and now I’m expected to go back to that place?”

“Eh, they’ve probably forgotten already. Besides, with the wargs running about, supplies to the trading post have likely stopped completely now. They will be desperate for what we have. You will see, we're going to be greeted like kings when we arrive.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“Lighten up,” Leonard smacked Clay’s back as he passed him, sending him jerking forward. “How about I buy you a woman for the night when we arrive? Would that make us even?”

“A-a woman?” Clay swallowed and reddened.

“You’ve never done it, have you?”

“Of course not! I’m an acolyte. It’s not even legal until I graduate.”

“Legal?” Leonard chuckled. “Look around, little boy. That ship has sailed long ago.”

“We still have laws. Rules. We’re still Imperials. We can't just act like savages because we're in the Frontier.”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed being so wound up. Relax a little. Treat yourself to an experience while you can. Who knows what the winter has coming for us.”

Clay eyed the confident caravan master suspiciously. He didn’t like what he was saying, but he also couldn’t come up with a counterargument. Ultimately, it seemed their all-powerful Imperium had left them in the Frontier to die.

**Trolls**

“Are you sure it is wise to build our camp here, Tath Gorak? Can the humans really be trusted?” A troll dressed in leather sat in the small cabin that had been hastily put together as temporary accommodation for the tribe until something bigger could be built.

“At least they allow us to pray to Rockharden here. Allow us to keep our traditions, and don’t expect us to bow to that damned wolf.”

“For now,” the troll hissed.

“Be pessimistic, but do not create enemies for us unnecessarily, brother. If humans betray their word, we can worry about that when it happens. For now, we must see this path through, for we cannot defeat the wargs alone.”

“We can run. There is much beyond the Daggers to the north. Why not find new home away from this war?”

“And what about the rest of our people? What about the mating season? How will we keep our tribe alive if our people cannot mate with the other tribes?”

“We–ahh–”

“We won’t—is the answer. Failure to defeat the wargs means that we either accept subjugation or that we condemn our tribe to extinction. Neither outcome is acceptable to me. But what do you say, brother?”

“Fine,” the troll growled. “I will bow to your wisdom, chief. But do not think I trust the pink skins.”

“I would be more concerned if you did, brother. I need wary eyes watching my back. Just make sure that you do not accuse our hosts of crimes they have not commited.”

"I will try, chief."