The next few days passed in relative calm. My Casting reached 6, my Population was in the 80s (but I stopped getting new "work elves" after the first 5), and I was getting 1 gold and 4 mana into my Vault each day. Growth rate was still increasing. The granary was almost done, with Production at 6.

In my tower view, there were now 4 more people who counted as "unaffiliated units", and I could now see (slightly) more detail on them - 2 were "Human Mage", 1 was "Human Healer", and the rest were "Human Warrior". My tower also claimed I had graduated from an "Outpost" to a Town, and gave me the option of naming the town. I called it "Wizard Heights", wondering who, besides myself, would be able to see the new town name.

I decided to go out and see if I could ID the local "unit" people, marking down their approximate addresses, I headed out for a neighborhood walk.

My elf-manned yard sale was still going strong, I saw, and I waved at a couple of customers in passing. I was still in awe of how just about any old thing could become "trade goods" in the hands of my elves, but I was happy to get the gold/day income. For the most part, the area looked the same as it always had, but there were a few remarkable exceptions, like my own home's transformation.

The local park now sported a huge hedge maze, and there was a "creepy mansion" style house about 3 blocks away that I know wasn't there before. My first destination, the Healer, was very much obvious when I arrived - it even had a sign "Tully's Healing Depot". The rates were expensive, though, at $1000 to start. Not someone I wanted to deal with, I decided - I'd wait until my own healing spell was castable, if possible.

I passed a few other unique structures, a pyramid, a huge complex of fountains, and a big tunnel leading underground. Almost to my next destination, I felt a painful smack on the back of my next.

"Gotya!" came the yell from a bouncy brown-skinned teenager who popped out from behind a fence line ahead of me. I'd been hit with a blue paintball, and the youngster with the paintball gun was doing a little celebratory dance.

"Wow mister! You were worth 2 XP! Hardly anyone is worth more than one. Most folks are just zeros - waste of ammo."

"Hi there! I'm Frank. You must be the Warrior I came to check out." I replied.

"I'm more than just a Warrior, I'm a Sharpshooter, name's Jaime, and I'm most of the way to level 2 now. But you don't look like a combat person, and those XP points don't lie - you gotta be like a General or something."

"I don't know how that stuff gets counted" I replied. "But I have a small Elven Farm that I command and it's growing fairly quickly."

"Oh wow, so your a Builder type. Can you hire mercs? I don't have a real weapon yet, though." he said with a sad face.

"I think so, but I can't provide much of anything for my forces just yet. In a couple of weeks I should be able to heal people working for me and give them combat support from my control tower. Right now, though, there's nothing to even fight anyway. I'm going to be getting a small troop of elven spearmen in a while, but having a real person to lead them would be great!"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I like the sound of that - leading a squad of elves! This here's my place" as he pointed to a mundane-looking 2-story house nearby. "My folks don't have any neat Powers, though. Mom just colors glass, and dad is a Baitmaster - he's been out at the river practically every free moment."

I gave him my address, "You can find me here if you want to sign on as a Hero for me when you go adventuring. Hopefully by then I'll be able to give you a serious bonus of some kind - maybe even find you a weapon if you don't get one before. I'll send a message by an elf messenger if something special comes up."

"Ok Frank. I'm gonna keep practicing. I want to hit level 2 before any real fight."

"I know the feeling - my combat skills suck right now. Let's hope we have time to get better before things get serious."

We parted and I went on to the next address on the list.

The next one was a bust - I went to the house, but the woman who answered denied there was any Mage-type person living there, and quickly closed the door on me.

The next "Warrior" one was an obvious biker guy, with a couple huge motorcycles parked out front - I passed on by. Sure, some such guys might be great recruits, but I wasn't willing to take that sort of chance.

The next was also a Warrior, but very different. There was a middle-aged asian woman on a trampoline obviously putting herself to the test in the back yard. When she saw me looking over the fence, she yelled at me to "get lost".

"No problem, I'm just out scouting the elite Empowered fighter type in the area", and turned to go.

"Wait! How did you find out about me?"

"My thing is an Elven Farmstead, and it showed me a map with potential people to hire to guard the place when it gets large enough to need it." I claimed.

"I knew I saw some sort of elves lurking about!" She said. "Did you send them to spy on me?"

"No. If they're mine, I had no idea they ranged this far from home."

"Well, several of us have noticed something going. Little household chores get done and small bits of food go missing. We only see glimpses of them out of the corner of the eye, but they look to me like little elves."

I described my Worker elves to her, but she claimed the ones she saw were even smaller, and "kind of translucent".

"I'll have to check it out - I really don't know where my elves get their baking materials from. It just seems to come out of nowhere when no one is looking."

"It's not a big problem - the couple of people like me who notice are just glad to have the 'little helpers'. But we wondered where they were coming from."

I gave her the address of my home/"farm", and she said she'd keep me in mind, but not to tell anyone about her "Warrior" abilities. She didn't describe said abilities, or even give her name - just said, "If something big happens, you know where to find me." Then she went back to training, with a wave that was obviously a signal for me to leave - which I did.

The next Warrior was obvious when he came to the door - a huge man with bulging muscles, in a tank top and sweats. He simply calmly asked me what I wanted.

"My game gave me a list of local fighting-Empowered people who might qualify to work for me in the future, I run an "Elven Farmstead" game, and will need some protection when I expand enough, or when something dangerous comes for us. You were on the list, so I decided to come introduce myself. I'm Frank, Frank Santos."

"Joe Kirby. Guarding a farm doesn't really appeal to me, but I might for hire to troubleshoot if someone or something starts causing you problems."

"Sounds good. It doesn't work yet, but in the future I should get some powers that will enhance the abilities of anyone working for me. In the meantime, feel free to stop by for elf-made snacks - they're quite delicious."

We made a bit more idle chit-chat and parted company. I'd had enough walking around for one day and headed home.