Five days ago Tom was morialized. Faction Layton Mischief had its first ideal.
Ellison, Jared, Durkil, Alex, and several others crowded into Damon's forge. Large bodies made the space feel cramped, the scent of Iron, sweat and wood hung stale in the air.
Racks of armor and weapons were stuffed into the back room, replaced by several rows of benches.
We needed a bigger space for all these council etings. Jared insisted on eting at least once everyday to stay aligned on projects. Assimilating nearly 3,000 survivors of Jordan's old faction had proven to be quite the undertaking.
"OK, OK!" Jared cupped his hands and shouted over the chatter in the small room. "OK! Is everyone here?"
Side conversations ended and the room grew quiet. I sat sandwiched between Alex and Ellison on the front row.
"I think everyone who you wanted, besides Nick and Mischief." I had to sit slightly hunched forward to accommodate Alex's broad fra.
"Probably better that way for now..." Jared said matter of fact.
"Ok then, on to the agenda." He pulled out a notepad and pen that were part of the spoils brought back from Jordan's faction. He held them with reverence.
"First item of business. We are less than a day out from when the next raid arrives." I glanced around the room. Humans, Guildians, and Wolf human hybrids listened intently.
"We have concluded per our last council that this raid and the raid following are not to be taken lightly."
Everyone had agreed that it was very likely that subsequent raids would no longer be the weakest and lowest level any longer. Those days were behind us.
"First Alex and then Durkil, can we please get a status report on each of your units?"
Alex's face turned red. He was still not used to his new position. The council agreed that as the faction grew it would need levels of leadership. Alex was one of two chosen to lead a group of our fighters, Durkil was the other.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Yes well, erm..so there were several attacks today." Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked down at . I just smiled back and shoved his leg to keep going.
He swallowed. "Mostly just low level anomalies like usual, there were even less today though."
As he looked around the room people nodded along, it seed to bolster his confidence. "More and more of the new faction mbers join each day." He looked down at again. "You know that healer you talked to? Brett? Yeah he ca along."
Brett, a forr real estate agent in his late fifties, had chosen healer simply because he didn't know what else to pick. A day ago he approached and asked why I chose healer for my class.
I was honest and told him that it was a mistake, but that I wouldn't change it for the world. We didn't talk more than that, he simply thanked for sharing and went on his way.
"So we had both Elise and Brett backing us up. We focused on letting the newcors sink their teeth in. They're making good progress." Alex's face scrunched into a wince. "I heard so grumbles from the militia about wasting experience, but overall the morale is getting better everyday."
Jared wrote in his notebook as Alex reported. He looked up. "How are numbers looking?"
"No level's for any of our top fighters. Nothing big enough to move the needle unfortunately. We have over 400 I think in total. Almost everyone is over level 10 now."
Without looking asked. "And the other thing I asked for."
Alex blushed again. "I'm working on it."
Jared had asked Alex and Durkil to give an inventory on class types, breaking them down into several categories.
Close range tanks, and dexterity builds. Ranged, split by AOE and individual attacks. Support, healing and buffs. And the last was miscellaneous for now.
"Alex, we need that inventory to deploy sound battle strategies. Please have that done today." Jared's tone was snappy.
Alex grumbled sothing like "Layton is a battle strategy." under his breath but otherwise agreed.
"Durkil?"
Where Alex was a timid and shy Durkil stood proud, shoulders back, antlered head held high.
"Our forces in the north region are growing as well." He spoke in a deep formal voice. Durkil was younger than Alex but had an intensity that was hard to match.
"We continue to allocate a third of all our earnings to bringing our Guildian brothers and sisters into the faction, as recomnded. We are up to 273 Guildians in total."
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Jordan kept writing and so Durkil continued.
"Two of the four factions that border the northern land have been claid, but have yet to attack. Only anomalies have entered our land."
"And your numbers?"
"200 fighter's, near an even split between light and heavy. 100 ranged units, all but ten use weapons instead of magic. Two support, both under leveled Guildian healers."
Durkil's unit consisted of the Guildians and the liberated slaves. Sadie and Xander continued to shine, and as they did the rest of their broken faction rose to the occasion.
Jared thanked Durkil and he sat. The rest of the eting focused on infrastructure and building hos for the new faction mbers. Hos were not Jared's biggest concern though.
He was laser focused on supporting the new influx of non-combat classes. Jared had little to no patience for people not contributing to our faction.
Not even a day after the fallout and subsequent abandoning of their hos Jordan had begun to catalog each new class added. People were still grieving the loss of their neighbors and friends and he was assigning objectives in the interface.
Most of our faction's artisans did the sa. Posting openings in the system interface.
"Damon, do you have a status report on your progress to your objectives to progress to guild status?"
Damon didn't stand, he just prodded at the air interacting with his status. "Step one is done. I added five new apprentices and reached an official agreent with Stetson for resources."
Stetson waved a dirty hand at the group.
"All that's left is the production requirents, should take about a month."
Guilds were an exciting new developnt the system had opened once our faction surpassed 1,000 faction mbers. Once a guild was established it opened a new ladder of progression where mbers of the guild could take advantage of experience and quality bonuses.
Each prospective guild made their report, Shards and enchanting, construction, woodcraft, excavation, and on and on.
Little by little the small village I called ho was leveling up.
***
I knew that planning was important. But after two hours I started to feel restless.
"We are not running a charity Jessie."
"Jared, again, I'm not suggesting we do! But a stipend would go a long way to help get so of the new faction mbers on their feet."
We'd moved past taking stock of progress and the defenses and had moved on to a more volatile conversation. Jessie proposed that it wasn't enough to build hos for the new additions, they would need help to catch up and establish themselves.
Jared agreed, but he didn't agree on the thod to accomplish it.
"And how do you suggest that we fund the stipend? We're already spread thin as it is."
Jared was right.We were broke. And by we, I an . Jared had spent most of the ager contributions to buy a do for each territory similar to my do of protection for our two factions.
The do allowed projectiles to pass through from our side while blocking enemies' projectiles. It also caused damage to enemies that passed through, with a chance to leave them stunned.
The purchase ca with a shard to power it and could be upgraded with a more powerful shard. It was a huge advantage in a fight and the do covered the entire town and then so.
Ellison folded his arms. "We've already covered this—we need to implent a tax."
"And we will Ellison, but that doesn't help here." Jared raised two fingers. "For one, we'd only be taxing the original mbers of our faction, the refugee's have nothing to tax yet."
He dropped a finger. "For two, we can't just drop a tax out of thin air. People need to have a grace period to prepare for the tax."
"It doesn't have to be a tax. Each of us has piles of crap stacked a mile high in our storages we'll never use."
She had a point. Just from the trial alone I had like 500 crappy cooking utensils.
"I propose we take all of that junk, every scrap that we don't need and exchange it to the interface. It won't be crazy money but it's a start."
Jared scratched his chin. "How would you distribute it?"
"We wouldn't. We'd give the money to Cassie and she would distribute it."
Cassie threw up her hands defensively. "Whoah! I don't know about that. I think Jared is more than capable."
Jessie shook her head. "It needs to be you Cassie. If Jared does it, then it will feel like charity. If you do it then it's an agreent. You make sure people know it cos with expectations."
"And what exactly are those expectations?" Cassie leveled.
"That they commit to the growth of faction LM—and agree to pay it forward, so future refugees can find a ho too. We could even require a certain return to fund further endeavors and officially call it a relief fund."
"It has been proposed that we start a new relief fund backed by unused trinkets sold to the interface." Jordan jotted a few notes in his pad then smiled. "Are there any opposed to this proposal?"
The room was silent.
"Very well." Another jot in the book. "I would like to propose Cassie as head of the agreed upon relief fund and director of all relief efforts henceforth. Any opposed?"
"Hold on, wait just a minute. Maybe I could get on board to help with my faction. But leading a relief fund? No. I don't think that's for ."
Jared frowned.
"Why not?" I asked, truly curious. "It fits you perfectly."
"And why is that?"
"Because you should get it."
I looked into her eyes. It wasn't my place to talk about all she had been through. The heartache, the loss, the broken pieces. She had been through it all and had no one to help put it back together. Not until she joined faction LM.
"People need hope, not just money. They need purpose, can you do that?"
Cassie stared back at , biting the sides of her cheeks. For a mont, her eyes flicked downward—when they ca back up there was a determination in them.
"Ok. I'll do it."
"Alright, any opposed?"
No one said a word.
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