I gave priority to anyone whose need was to “Kill” war trolls and goblins, instead of to run from them.

  Pure pragmatism at its best, those who were eliminating enemies might simultaneously change other people’s needs if they no longer had to worry about the war troll that would’ve killed them.

  Eysee didn’t get her shoes, but Mularet got a leather vest that was relatively easy to craft. I assumed, due to the other items I’d made for people, when I next saw Eysee she no longer needed shoes. Instead, she needed something very similar to her father’s vest. I thought this would cover her whole body.

  It was unfortunate that the two of them were still two years younger than me. If they were old enough to have talents, I was absolutely certain they’d be unstoppable. I hadn’t been joking about expecting the two of them to get masterful talents.

  I remembered high school. There, you could always tell who the smartest and most talented people were. Everything was quantified and tested, and the stars seemed to rise to the top, whether by effort or unbridled talent. That wasn’t to say there weren’t hidden anti-social gems, of course, but everyone sort of knew which people were going places, barring unforeseen circumstances and life being life.

  Eysee and Elsee… They’d have been valadictorians. They were smart, fast, intuitive, and filled with an ingenuity that sometimes boggled my mind. For other villagers, I’d have to explain details of my stories that the two of them picked up without missing a beat.

  If pressed, I couldn’t come up with a single example of why they were the smartest people I’d ever known, up to and including everyone I’d known as April, and even Mom.

  They just… were. Everyone could see it.

  Unfortunately, Eysee kept needing to escape or be defended, while Elsee needed that crossbow. One of those things could kill trolls, which might save more lives. The other wouldn’t. Still, in her particular instance, it hadn’t been particularly difficult for dad to gather the materials for both of them.

  I’d made them both, and Elsee’s had indeed turned out to be a crossbow.

  A crossbow. For prim little Elsee. The lady had protested too much. Perhaps she really did want to be a hunter, and was just embarrassed by the cultural stigma of a girl wanting something like that.

  I’d have given it to her, but unfortunately, the Carpenter twins were nowhere to be found, and I didn’t have time to go look for them.

  I was gathering the needs of the people at my little nest in the bar. Happily, with my time spent lifting spirits, I’d gained another point in storytelling and two in public speaking. Both were among my highest skills so gaining points in them without spending free points was fantastic.

  Dad’s skills with trading got me almost everything I needed to make the easy stuff, and as the town began to turn into a miniature war machine, I felt like I was at the heart of it. My talent’s details had spread like wildfire, and everyone wanted the chance at something tailor-made for them by an ‘elite’ crafter talent.

  The fact that it literally became easier for me to make things for people as they told me about themselves didn’t hurt.

  “So… did you always live in Pemolar’s Hill or did you grow up somewhere else?” I asked Norman, trying to get a little closer to him and lower the requirements of his need.

  He did not like talking about himself. Unlike Dobretin, Norman was a closed-off jerk. When he wasn’t healing or being weirdly affectionate with my Mom, I found him to be a complete ass.

  He rolled his eyes in response, making no effort to hide his disdain for the question. “I’ve said many times that I was born Normuran Preschot, of the Duchy of Preschot, and I am a noble, third son of the house. I am a healer. Of course, I didn’t grow up here.”

  I didn’t think this was working. Perhaps that was my fault. I knew that about him, but no one knew or had ever heard of the Duchy of Preschot, and it was really hard to take the man seriously when he got defensive about it.

  Still, I remembered how he’d been one of the first to jump between Lieutenant Berkenem and me, when the town wasn’t sure of his intentions toward me. He’d also looked panicked and worried, and nearly exhausted himself healing me when I’d been hurt.

  He cared. I knew he did. But he was absolutely shit at showing it.

  I sighed. “Well… could you tell me how you got here then?”

  He hesitated.

  “I… there was… You wouldn’t understand. It’s too complicated to explain to you,” He insisted.

  I growled, and, to my irritation, the requirements for his need grew even more numerous. I wouldn’t understand? This asshole probably didn’t even know for sure if the world was round, and he thought he could talk down to me!?

  “I’m sorry, Moro–err. Normuran. I don’t think I’m going to be able to craft anything for you today.”

  He sniffed.

  “All too expected. Even an elite talent can’t figure out what I need,” he said, not noticing the glower in my eyes.

  I was savvy enough to know he hadn’t intended to be insulting, but pissed off enough to not give a shit. The only person in town this man seemed to respect was my mom, for who knew what reason. That courtesy did not extend to me, and I was fed up with it.

  “Norman, thank you for healing me the other day, but please go away.”

  The healer blanched, before his eyes narrowed.

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  “I am the only healer this town has! If you can make something that might help me, it could save more–!”

  “As it is, talking with you is only making it more difficult for me to make something for you,” I interrupted sharply, my temper lost. “Either pull the stick out of your ass and try to actually talk to me, or get the fuck out and stop wasting time!”

  “Hmph!”

  He actually made the noise, intentionally, and grabbed his staff before striding out of the room.

  His need was something that would help him heal wounds inflicted by war troll and goblins, so it certainly would have been useful. Its requirements were batshit crazy, though. Almost literally!

  It required seventeen bat eyes, a truckload of ether dust, a handful of uncut diamonds gathered under a full moon, the heat of a blacksmith’s forge, and the tears of a loved one.

  What… just. What the fuck. How would someone even know there was a full moon if they were underground mining!? If I’d ever needed confirmation that someone didn’t like me very much, this was it.

  “That guy is a colossal prick,” I murmured.

  I sighed. I’d made about five more items for different people that I was close with, who’d been willing to help me get the supplies for, which left me with almost seventy free points to spend, and I still hadn’t spoken to half of the town's residents yet, let alone all the people who made their living in more remote areas.

  Unfortunately, despite at least knowing the names of almost everyone in town, that didn’t necessarily mean I knew everyone. The requirements were just too high for many people, which meant that if I wanted to use my talent properly, I needed to build closer relationships. Not something most people had time for when we were all preparing to fight for our lives.

  I did have Elsee’s crossbow, though, and I was determined to find and give it to her as soon as I could.

  The entire village felt as if there were a huge clock counting down the minutes until something terrible happened. Patrols were organized, and most of the outlying townsfolk were flooding the town, none of them wanting to be caught at their own homes alone. Still, there was a surprising rythm to the whole process that I attributed heavily to Dobretin’s high diplomacy skills.

  I really needed to pick that one up.

  Having finished with Norman, and not seeing anyone else for the first time all afternoon, I poked my head out the bar’s door and was immediately swarmed with the raucous sound of animals. Horses, cows, pigs, chickens, oxen, dogs, and several other animals native to Enora flooded the street in a stanky tide.

  “Mera!” I heard a sudden cry.

  I brightened as I spotted Akkiwa, looking surprisingly happy, and her father, looking anything but. As usual, even covered in dirt and no small amount of sweat, Akkiwa was gorgeous.

  “Akkiwa!” I exclaimed. “I guess you heard the news?”

  “Who hasn’t? We wanted to stay out on our ranch, but the Mayor convinced us it would be best to come into town. He advised us to bring our valuables, so…!” She gestured to the horde of animals with a mildly spiteful smile.

  “These are all yours? My heavens, I knew you had a lot of land out there, but…” I trailed off, amazed at the sheer amount of farm animals covering the street.

  “No, not all of them. About half, though. These are all mixed with the Ranchers from near the lake. We decided to put them at a spot on the northeast road heading towards Clairmont. There’s a massive clearing of unclaimed land out that way, surrounded by bluffs. All the kids and old folks are headed that way. You included,” she said sharply, turning her gaze towards her father.

  He weathered her displeasure with no visible sign of discomfort, like the old oak he was. It had actually been a while since I’d seen Negirot. Akkiwa had long since taken over the task of making trips to the village for supplies, and I was a bit shocked by how much older he looked.

  “I’ll not sit by while these townsfolk are fighting for their lives. I’ve got no desire to fight trolls and goblins again, but I’ll die happily before I ever let you so much as see one,” Negirot insisted.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if you spent your time making sure we still have a life after this is all over with?” Akkiwa asked softly.

  Negirot eyed his daughter suspiciously. “I will be helping defend this place, Akkiwa.”

  Akkiwa sighed as if she’d run out of patience, and stared at the old man with a hard, but caring eye.

  “Papa, I was trying to be kind about this, but it’s starting to look like only blunt honesty is going to get through to you. Your right arm was broken just two months ago. You’ve been less and less helpful around the Ranch, and I’m pretty sure you fell down the front step just yesterday because a gust of wind hit you. I love you, Papa, and I’m trying not to hurt your feelings here, but you won’t be able to help. Not this way.”

  I winced as Negirot’s expression crumbled.

  “That’s… not true,” he denied weakly.

  “There’s no shame in it, Papa. You’re almost seventy. You’re a veteran, and no one is doubting that you would help if you could, okay? Give that sword you tried to sneak down here to someone who can actually use it, and come with me to the bluffs. Please?”

  The old man faltered, but gathered himself again. “That’s… not. I’m not…”

  Akkiwa strode up to the old man and gave him a huge hug. He stumbled a little, losing his balance. He was holding a large walking staff, and part of his weight transitioned to the girl.

  “Am I really so useless?” His eyes were wet, and I suddenly felt like I was intruding on a moment.

  “Of course not,” she said. “But you’re better with a bow at the bluffs than with a sword here.”

  He was quiet for a long time, and I suddenly wished I’d made myself scarce before it devolved into a heart-to-heart. Akkiwa would certainly be embarrassed about this later, but it seemed she was too focused on her dad’s health to care that I was watching at the moment.

  “Fine. Fine… you disobedient little chit,” he said with a scowl.

  It seemed curmudgeony old men were the order of the week. Dobretin, Normuran, and now Negirot too. Mayor, Healer, and Hermit. I was making a collection.

  I took a moment to observe the old man’s need bubble, and was amused to find that he did indeed need something for killing Goblins. Unlike most, though, this appeared to be all metal, and required far too much of it to be easily obtained before they left.

  The father and daughter split apart, and we continued walking toward the northern edge of town in silence, punctuated by the steps and squawks of the herd. Neither of them seemed to feel much like talking after the embarrassing display.

  Further on, the road forked in three directions. A small deerpath headed west toward Dolundant, a town much smaller than even Pemolar’s Hill. The main road continued on toward Denarla, far to the north, while a northwest fork continued to Clairmont, where they would be heading.

  People lined the road, watching the rather unusual migration of ranch animals as they continued, herded and corralled by men and women from all over the area.

  To my surprise, I found the start of what appeared to be a line of pickets surrounding the road, and all easy entrances to the town by way of the surrounding woods. A perimeter of sharpened spikes. Even here at the northern entrance, as far from the rift as possible, everyone was preparing, all working together to ensure the town had a proper fallback point, and that we couldn’t be flanked.

  Small wooden towers were being erected for the few people in town who could use magic, as well as to support the many hunters who would be putting their archery skills to more grisly uses soon.

  We were preparing for war.

  MB