The forge smelled of smoke and iron, its warm glow casting shadows on the gathered tradespeople. Blacksmiths leaned against the walls, their hammers and tongs tucked into worn leather belts. Carpenters sat on crude stools, their hands calloused from years of labor. A fletcher idly rolled an arrow between his fingers, his eyes darting toward Hadrian. At the far end of the room, an architect stood with a rolled parchment under one arm, his face a mask of skepticism.
Hadrian stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on its rough surface. Skyles leaned casually against a support beam nearby, a faint smirk playing on his lips, while Georgios, the village's burly blacksmith, stood like a statue of iron at Hadrian's side. The low hum of conversation died down as Hadrian raised a hand.
"Thank you all for coming," Hadrian began, his voice calm and deliberate. "I know you're busy, and I won't waste your time with pleasantries. We're all here because we know the truth: this village is on borrowed time. If we don't act, we'll lose everything."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, though the carpenter shot a skeptical glance toward Georgios, who remained stoic.
Hadrian continued, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces. "We need more than a militia with rusted swords to survive. The goblins won't just test our strength—they'll test our resilience, our ability to rebuild and grow stronger with every challenge they throw at us."
He straightened, gesturing toward Georgios and the tools laid out on the forge's workbench. "That's why I'm proposing the formation of two guilds. The first will be the War Guild, dedicated to crafting weapons, armor, and anything we need to defend this village. The second, equally important, will be the Guild for Public Works. Their focus will be on building homes, fortifying defenses, and improving every part of this village that keeps us alive."
A silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackle of the forge's fire. The fletcher was the first to speak, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Guilds? Sounds like a fancy way of telling us how to do our jobs."
Hadrian met his gaze evenly. "It's not about telling you what to do—it's about uniting your skills under one purpose. Alone, you're excellent craftsmen. Together, you're truly a force to be reckoned with. With shared resources, knowledge, and effort, we can achieve more than just survival. We can thrive."
The architect cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. "And who oversees these guilds? You?"
"For now I will control the war guild and Skyles will control the public works guild," Hadrian said. "But I'll appoint leaders from among you to ensure that your interests are represented. This isn't about control—it's about coordination. With the War Guild, we'll arm our militia and build defenses. With the Public Works Guild, we'll make this village more than a collection of crumbling huts."
The carpenter, a stout man with thick arms and a permanent scowl, folded his arms. "You're asking a lot. Building homes? Fortifications? That takes time and resources we don't have."
Hadrian inclined his head, acknowledging the challenge. "You're right. It will take time. But every step forward strengthens us. A new home means a family has a place to sleep safely. A fortified wall means we're one step closer to turning Eretis into a stronghold. And we'll do it together—because if we don't, no if we don't yous may die to goblins or yous may survive, but listen to me, humans may seem weak, but I believe we have a greater path, do you want to live and die knowing you weren't a part of that, or do u want to die with pride knowing you pushed humanity forward."
A tense silence followed. Georgios after a long wait finally spoke, his deep voice carrying weight. "He's got a point. I've seen what goblins can do to an unprepared village. If we want to survive, we need to start thinking bigger."
The blacksmith's endorsement seemed to sway some of the room. The fletcher nodded reluctantly, while the carpenter shifted uneasily but said nothing.
Hadrian seized the moment. "If you have doubts, I'll address them. If you have better ideas, I'll listen. But we have to start somewhere. The goblins no the other races won't wait for us to be ready."
The room fell quiet again, and one by one, the artisans nodded. It wasn't unanimous, but it was enough.
'Hmm its getting easier to give these people commands, I don't know if its from my new skill or if they really are starting to take a liking to me, I doubt that though, I'm still basically a child" thought Hadrian
Skyles clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Well, there you have it. Princess here wins another debate. What's next, Hadrian? Assigning seats at the table?"
Hadrian ignored the jibe, his focus on the tradespeople. "We begin immediately. Georgios, you'll oversee the War Guild for now. The rest of you, work with me and Skyles to organize the Public Works Guild. Let's get to work."
As the artisans filed out of the forge, the hum of quiet conversation returned, but this time, it was mixed with cautious optimism. Hadrian leaned against the table, exhaling softly. Skyles grinned at him, his tone teasing.
"You've got them eating out of your hand. Don't let it go to your head."
Hadrian shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I don't need their admiration. I need their trust—and their skills."
The forge emptied slowly, the artisans leaving in scattered groups, murmuring among themselves. Outside, the sky was overcast, a pale gray that seemed to press down on the village. Hadrian remained inside, speaking quietly with Georgios as Skyles lounged near the entrance, his sharp eyes watching the departing tradespeople.
"Think they'll go along with it?" Skyles asked, tilting his head toward the carpenter, who stomped away with a face like thunder.
Hadrian didn't answer immediately. His gaze followed the carpenter's retreating figure before flicking back to Georgios. "What's his name?"
"Caris," Georgios said, his tone gruff. "Stubborn as an old mule, but a good craftsman. If you're looking for someone to sweet-talk, it won't be him."
Hadrian straightened. "Then I'll deal with him first."
Skyles let out a low whistle, pushing off the wall to follow. "Careful, Princess. Mules kick."
--------------------------------------------
Hadrian found Caris standing near the foundation of a half-collapsed house, his thick arms folded and his mouth set in a grim line. The other artisans had dispersed, but a few lingered within earshot, their curiosity palpable.
"Caris," Hadrian called as he approached, his tone measured but firm.
The carpenter didn't look up. "What do you want?"
"To understand your concerns," Hadrian said, stopping a few steps away. "You've got doubts about the guilds. Let's talk about them."
Caris finally turned, his expression skeptical. "Talk, huh? You seem good at that. But words don't fix broken beams or put food on the table."
Hadrian clasped his hands behind his back, holding the man's gaze. "You're right. Words don't build houses. People do. That's why we need the guild for Public Works—to make sure the people who can build have what they need to succeed."
Caris scoffed. "And who decides what we need? You? The boy who's been here all of five minutes, telling us how to do our jobs?"
A murmur of agreement rippled from the nearby tradespeople. Hadrian's gaze didn't waver. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Caris and those nearby could hear.
"I'm not here to tell you how to do your job. I'm here because I see what you're up against—what we're all up against. Goblins, crumbling homes, a village teetering on the edge of collapse. You're a good craftsman, Caris. I've seen your work. But no one person can fix this alone."
Caris's scowl deepened, but he didn't interrupt. Hadrian pressed on.
"The guild isn't about taking control. It's about giving you the resources to do more with what you already have. Shared tools. Shared knowledge. A network that makes sure you're not trying to hold up the sky on your own."
For a moment, Caris said nothing. Then he gestured to the collapsed house. "And who's going to pay for it? You can't build homes with air and promises."
Hadrian didn't flinch. "in the beginning We'll pay for it by working together. The War Guild produces weapons that we can sell to traders. The Public Works Guild builds infrastructure that attracts merchants and settlers. The stronger this village becomes, the more opportunities we create."
Caris eyed him warily, but the skepticism in his expression was beginning to soften. "Sounds nice in theory. But what happens when things go wrong? What happens when your big plans fall apart and we're left picking up the pieces?"
Hadrian stepped even closer, his voice quiet but steady. "Then we adapt. We rebuild. We survive. But we can't do any of that if we don't try."
The carpenter stared at him for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "You're a stubborn little bastard, aren't you?"
"I prefer determined," Hadrian replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Caris shook his head, but a reluctant smile crept onto his face. "Fine. I'll give it a shot. But if this goes sideways, I'm coming for you."
"Fair enough," Hadrian said, extending a hand.
After a brief hesitation, Caris took it. The nearby tradespeople exchanged glances, some nodding to themselves. Skyles, who had been leaning casually against a post, clapped his hands once.
"Well, would you look at that? The mule didn't kick after all."
Caris snorted. "Keep talking like that, and you'll find out just how hard I can kick."
Skyles grinned. "Promises, promises."
By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, most of the artisans had agreed to join the guilds. Georgios returned to the forge to begin organizing the War Guild for Hadrian, while Hadrian and Skyles stayed behind to meet with a few of the Public Works Guild volunteers.
As the small group discussed potential projects—a reinforced well, repairs to the aqueduct—Hadrian felt a flicker of satisfaction. Progress was slow, but it was happening.
Then, the system's faint glow appeared in the corner of his vision.
Mission Progress: Guilds Established. Reward: +1 Level. Additional Reward Pending Completion of Initial Projects.
Hadrian allowed himself a brief moment of relief before turning back to the volunteers. "We'll start with the aqueduct tomorrow. Gather what materials you can tonight."
As the group dispersed, Leon appeared at Hadrian's side, his arms crossed. "You really think this will work?"
Hadrian glanced at him. "do you really still doubt me at this point."
Leon's frown deepened, but he didn't argue. "I hope you're right."
The morning dawned overcast and cool, the kind of day that carried the weight of unfinished work. Hadrian stood at the edge of the village square, watching as a group of Public Works volunteers gathered. Caris was among them, his broad frame looming over a pile of tools and raw timber. Nearby, the architect unfurled a set of rudimentary designs on a weathered table.
The air was thick with the hum of activity. Georgios and the blacksmiths were already hammering away in the forge, their steady rhythm a backdrop to the murmurs of the Public Works team. Skyles ambled over, tossing a small bundle of rope between his hands.
"Well, Hadrian," Skyles said with a grin, "looks like we got ourselves a workforce. Let's hope they can do more than swing hammers."
"They will," Hadrian replied, his tone firm but calm. "I have faith in them."
Hadrian approached the group of tradespeople, his bandaged arm tucked neatly against his side. He gestured toward the architect's drawings, which depicted a reinforced aqueduct system to carry water from the nearby stream into the heart of the village.
"This is where we start," Hadrian said, his voice carrying over the clamor. "The aqueduct. It's the backbone of everything we need to build—homes, defenses, even the forge. Without a reliable water supply, nothing else works."
Caris grunted, hefting a saw over one shoulder. "Sounds simple enough. But I don't see any wagons full of stone or mortar lying around."
"We'll use what we have for now," Hadrian said, gesturing toward a stack of salvaged bricks and wooden beams. "It doesn't have to be perfect—it just has to hold."
The architect adjusted his spectacles, frowning at the drawings. "You're proposing a patchwork system. It won't last more than a few months."
Hadrian met his gaze evenly. "It doesn't need to. By then, we'll have the resources for something better. For now, we focus on survival."
The architect hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Let's see if we can make it work."
Hadrian divided the volunteers into teams, assigning each a specific task: transporting materials, assembling supports, and reinforcing weak points in the structure. Caris took charge of the construction team, his booming voice cutting through the din as he barked orders.
"Move that beam over here! No, not like that—lift with your legs, you idiots!"
Despite his gruff demeanor, Caris seemed to thrive in the role. The volunteers followed his instructions with a mix of grumbling and determination, their work gradually gaining rhythm.
Meanwhile, Hadrian worked alongside the others, lifting beams and hammering nails with a practiced efficiency. His smaller frame drew some skeptical glances at first, but his strength—enhanced subtly by the system—quickly silenced any doubts.
Leon watched from a distance, his arms crossed. "You're really throwing yourself into this, aren't you?"
Hadrian paused, wiping sweat from his brow. "If I'm not willing to work, why should they be?"
Leon tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "Fair point. Just don't overdo it. You're not invincible, you know."
"I'll keep that in mind," Hadrian said dryly before returning to work.
By midday, progress slowed. One of the beams, poorly positioned, cracked under its own weight, sending a section of the structure tumbling into the mud. The volunteers froze, their expressions a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.
Caris cursed under his breath, stomping toward the wreckage. "This is why I said we needed proper materials!"
Hadrian approached, his expression calm but firm. "We knew this wouldn't be easy. Fix it and keep going."
Caris whirled on him, his face flushed with anger. "Fix it? With what? We're already short on wood, and now you want us to pull miracles out of thin air?"
The tension in the air was palpable. The other volunteers exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier determination beginning to waver.
Hadrian stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Caris could hear. "I know this is frustrating. But every moment we spend arguing is a moment wasted. Show me what you need, and I'll find a way to get it."
Caris stared at him, his jaw tightening. Then he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Fine. But you'd better keep that promise."
By late afternoon, the volunteers rallied. Using salvaged materials and a few innovative adjustments from the architect, they managed to stabilize the damaged section of the aqueduct. The flow of water from the stream began to trickle into the village, drawing cheers from the weary workers.
Hadrian allowed himself a rare smile as he watched the group celebrate. Even Caris cracked a grin, though he quickly masked it with a scowl when he noticed Skyles smirking at him.
"See?" Skyles said, clapping Caris on the back. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Shut up," Caris grumbled, though his tone lacked its usual edge.
As the group began packing up for the day, the system's faint glow appeared in Hadrian's vision.
Mission Progress: First Project Completed. Reward Pending Completion of Guild Infrastructure.
Hadrian dismissed the notification, his mind already racing with plans for the next steps.