Preka who was on watch took this moment to speak up, “Hold up, I think I see a nest. Click.”

This prompted Blackwell to get up and head towards him, even as the rest of the squad perked up. “Son of a bitch, you’re right.” he said upon arrival.

“Lockheed, toss me some jerky, let’s see if there’s any kits to be had?” said Blackwell.

“Why bother Blackwell?” asked Racken, the last member of his fireteam.

“You haven’t heard about hunters who can [Tame] beasts Racken? We take a few of these suckers back and trade it to them for some extra meat, we’re set up all the way through winter then.” said Blackwell.

Racken shook his head at Blackwell before laying out some sticks to prop carugar bodies on.

Blackwell ripped up a few pieces of jerky and laid them by the hole in the ground. He moved to Corvo and grabbed a sack from his back before returning to the hole. A few moments later, over a dozen small carugar kittens came out of the hole, lured out by the smell of dried meat.

They possessed the fearlessness of the young and didn’t seem concerned by the sun elf with the evil grin crouched over them. They were quickly scooped together into the sack by Blackwell, where they began yowling almost immediately.

“Oh great, just what we need, these idiots raising hell all the way back to the settlement.” said Janqua.

“Sergeant Janqua, when you’re chowing down on a warm spit of meat instead of cold gruel this winter, you’ll thank me.” said Blackwell, taking a piece of rope and looping it around the sack and through his trousers.

“Whatever. If we’re ready, let’s move out.” ordered Janqua, a squad of soldiers with carugars held between them, marching behind her.

Ozymandias strode towards the military encampment located on the edge of the settlement with Caldura following behind him. He had been informed that one of the first squads assigned to a combat job would be returning and Caldura had suggested that congratulating them on a successful mission would go a long way towards endearing him to the soldiers.

As he approached the orderly military tents he could hear the voices of the off duty soldiers.

“Mickelson I swear to god, if you leave your unwashed skivvies on the bunk again I’ll slit you from throat to taint.”

“I hear that in Vendermeer they used curved swords. Curved swords!”

“I can’t wait to rotate out. Long range recon is the worst. Four of you, slinking around like rats. It’s not proper [Soldier] work.”

“I bet Johanson is wishing he had stayed now. They should be reaching the salt plains by now. Remember how he broke into boils from them last time?”

“I’m not saying Tomar is right, I’m just saying that he’s not wrong.”

“Stew? Again? Could you fuck the cook already so we can get some better grub?”

Ozymandias moved between the tents, on approach to the command tent where Lt. Harkonen would be.

He was passing by one of the larger walkways when he heard a peculiar yowling coming from the side.

He looked over and noticed that a group of soldiers appeared to be surrounding a man holding a sack, which was making that sound. Curious he wandered over.

“So these kits were just in the hole and I baited them with some jerky, and bingo bango, now I’ve got some kits.” said the sun elf.

“Excuse me, what do you have in the bag?” asked Ozzy.

“Ozymandias, sir.” said the soldier, which caused all of the soldiers to assume a position of attention. “I captured some carugar kittens while completing our objective, sir.”

“Carugar kits? Mind if I see one Mr…?” asked Ozzy.

“Fireteam leader [Corporal] Blackwell, sir. And certainly sir.” said Blackwell, standing at an even stiffer level of attention with his chest puffed out, he pulled a kitten out of the bag and handed it to Ozzy.

Ozzy was immediately delighted by the strange creature. It appeared to be some sort of cat dog hybrid. It didn’t have whiskers, but it did have the eyes and lips of a cat while having the snout of a dog and the tail of a dog. Its fur was a mottled grey that appeared to be turning pure grey.

Initially the animal was being incredibly boisterous as it tried to use its juvenile claws to scratch Ozzy, but as he started to scratch behind its ears and along a spot along its back the kit calmed down in his arms.

“This is adorable. I love it. What did you call it Mr. Blackwell?” asked Ozzy.

“It is a carugar sir. Although I wouldn’t recommend keeping it. They grow up to be mean and vicious pack hunters. Unless you have a [Taming] skill or something like that, they can’t be kept.” informed Blackwell in a condescending voice.

“These cute little things? Really? Caldura, what do you think? Do you think I could keep one?” he asked Caldura.

Caldura observed the men standing at attention, and paid particular attention to Blackwell before replying to Ozzy.

“I don’t see any problem with keeping one. I assume you were going to give these to some of our [Hunters] anyway Corporal?” asked Caldura.

“Uh, yes ma’am.” said Blackwell.

“Good, then you can hand them to Private Marley here, you are required in the Command tent now.” said Caldura.

“But, ma’am, they are my responsibility. I wouldn’t feel right-” said Blackwell.

“[Corporal] Blackwell, you are needed in the Command tent. This is not a request, it is an order from your [Patrician], are you disobeying the order?” asked Caldura, her tone icy.

“No ma’am, however, the [Patrician] hasn’t ordered me to the Command tent, and while you are a Specialist to the troops, you do not outrank a [Corporal].” said Blackwell before turning to face Ozzy.

Ozzy meanwhile had been lost in tickling the kit's stomach and now glanced up. “Huh. Ya, whatever Caldura said. C’mon Blackwell, good work like this deserves a reward, let’s go to the Command tent.” he said, before putting an arm around Blackwell’s shoulder and pulling him along. “Let the privates take care of things like delivery.”

“Yes sir.” said Blackwell through gritted teeth as he allowed himself to be led away by Ozzy.

“Soldiers, as you were. Private Marely, you have your task.” said Caldura with a nod to the assembled group, before following behind Ozzy and Blackwell.

--

“Sheila, you have to talk to him. This plan doesn’t make sense. Why would we build all this so wide, with places for future underground tunnels? It doesn’t make sense.” said [Digger] Harkness. Harkness was a broad shouldered man with a balding head and perpetually dusty face. His weathered hands and face gave credence to his claim that he had been digging since his days as a child. Based on his appearance no one would believe his claim that he was only 220 years old.

A few of the [Diggers], [Builders], and [Masons] were standing together in the tent where Sheila was holding several plans as well as reports from [Scouts] about local water levels, ground composition and surrounding resources.

“I have talked to him, and I agree with him. He has vision Harkness. A grand design, something worth building.” said Sheila, a fervent gaze in her eyes. “The reasoning may not be apparent to you, but I guarantee that there is a reason for this plan. Now we can hold meetings and spend weeks trying to explain the reasons to every [Worker], [Hauler], and [Laborer] or you can trust my judgement.”

Unlike some of the other citizens, Sheila’s meeting with Ozymandias had gone better than she expected. The first meeting so long ago had been spent walking the area around the tents to get an idea of the region and the second one a few days later had been spent discussing the layout.

Initially Sheila had thought to build a standard village layout. A central region holding commercial buildings with residential buildings in the middle followed by specialized buildings like alchemy workshops on the exterior.

The talk with Ozymandias had broadened her view. She recognized now that she was being given the opportunity to plan a city, and that she should take a long term view rather than focusing on her immediate concerns.

Normally cities were built piecemeal, over successive generations by the rulers of the region. They rarely had a cohesive layout and often featured buildings and amenities from multiple eras as the city evolved over time.

“Well, maybe not to the dirt runners, but at least talk it through with us. Some of these steps don’t make any sense.” interrupted Burgess. Burgess was a slightly more slender man, possessed of the wiry build found in [Masons]. Not as overly musceled as [Haulers], Burgess carried himself with the air of someone who could handle himself.

Combined with his scarred face, scarred knuckles, and light skin tone, he stood out from the other sun elves.

“Fuck of Burgess. Your skull is as stonelike as your cobblestones. If it wasn’t for Journeyman Caldura pulling up granite you’d be useless.” said Harkness with a scowl.

“Has the dirt finally filled your ears so much-”

“STOP. Stop your pratelling, follow the plan. If you don’t like my plan then go complain to the [Patrician] and have him remove me from my position and you can follow the next [Foreman].” admonished Sheila.

“Well, don’t need to go that far.” “Just expressing concerns.” “Not that we don’t trust you.” muttered the various men gathered in the room.