After hearing that the Crimson Falcons might have encountered the cultists, I decided to follow them to Bridge. Setting off through the woods, we followed the riverbank to the west. After a twenty-minute walk spent mostly in silence, we came through a copse of trees, and I got my first look at Bridge.

At first, it reminded me of a shantytown from old pictures of the great depression. Just based on the number of shacks and tents, there must have been at least five hundred people living there. A main street cut the town longways, while the colorado river cut it again across the middle. Crossing the river was the town’s namesake, the collapsing remains of the Montopolis Bridge.

As we descended the hill and entered the town proper, it felt like I had left Texas and arrived somewhere completely new. Sheets and tarps covered the main street, providing shade to the large number of people going about their business. The sum of these things gave the town the aura of a desert bazaar, making me feel like I had been transported somewhere far away.

Perhaps even more impressive, unlike the rest of the town, the houses on either side of the main street were built from wood. They were little better than wood boxes, but they were much nicer than the tents that people on the outskirts of the town were sleeping in. I had to constantly remind myself that all of this had been built up in only four days.

As David guided us through the town, the crowd parting for him as he went, I turned to Beatrice, who walked beside me.

“This is incredible. How did you do this? And so fast, too?”

Raising an eyebrow, the elf gave me a sidelong glance.

“Honestly? We got lucky. We four changed in the first wave, and we happened to meet some people in the hotel we stayed at who believed us when we told them that things would get worse before they got better. By the time the second wave struck, we already had a large group.

“Then, the first day after the second wave, we came across a team of construction workers who were out on a job. We pointed them in the right direction to develop crafting abilities and, eventually, classes. Before long, they started building these wooden shacks to develop their skills. With houses underway, we sent parties to apartment buildings and suburbs looking for people, and the situation has snowballed since.”

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I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it.

“And you managed to do all of this in only four days? That’s insane.”

Beatrice turned, looking around at the new buildings in wonder.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it? But to tell you the truth, the secret to all of this is leadership skills.”

“Oh? Skills like what?”

“You’ll meet him in a bit, but an ex-city councilman joined us near the start. He took some public speaking general skills and some for administration. It’s gotten crazy in the past two days, though. Did you ever take a class?”

I nodded yes, gesturing for her to continue.

“Well, remember how before you pick your class, it mentions that your choice affects your skill upgrade paths? Councilman Matthew, now Elder Matthew, ended up with the class ‘Village Elder’. When his general skills got to max level and then upgraded, they became skills to hyper-efficiently manage the day-to-day in a village.

“And they work. He can’t manage everything, of course, but his work crews are always in the right place and working on the right thing. He can even start to deal with problems before they happen. It’s hard to put into words just how powerful that actually is. Even though it’s only been two days since the upgrade, the speed and quality of our improvement are unbelievable.”

Gesturing so some of the new construction, Beatrice continued.

“Everyone in town is supposed to have wooden houses like these in only a few weeks, and that assuming we don’t improve our skills and abilities even further.”

I was still marveling at the houses around us when we suddenly stopped. Before us, under a set of awnings, was a large table covered end to end with documents. Standing atop a stool with both palms placed firmly on the table was an aging goblin.

His skin was dark green, and he wore patchwork clothes designed to look somewhat like a suit. His nose was long and topped with a set of impressive spectacles. Standing over his shoulder was Zach.

At our arrival, he glanced up. Worry traced the lines of his face.

“David, Bea, Morgan, and… Vic, correct? I’m glad you’re here.”

Reaching out a hand for me to shake, we made quick greetings before he turned to the map once again.

“I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Vic, but these will have to do. I’m Thomas Matthews, the village Elder of Bridge.”

“It’s nice to meet you. David mentioned you might have a cultist problem?”

He bobbed his head, expression grim.

“Indeed we do. A group from the south showed up yesterday, matching your descriptions. They said they were from a group of survivors holed up in an old church and asked if we could send a few people to assist them in repairing the building.

“They left with several volunteers who offered to help, but I haven’t heard anything from them since they left. And David… my skill. It’s acting up again. You better hurry.”