Bo paced in a circle around his small campfire, blueprints scattered across the stumps surrounding him. He ran a hand through his dirty tangled beard and muttered numbers under his breath.

After the Blake fiasco, his family, the Damascus family, and many of their neighbors had trudged off—exhausted—to their deteriorating beds on the frozen ground. With the Headless Dungeon vanquished—at least for the next six days—the camp would hopefully rest easier, though a rotating watch still patrolled.

It wasn't just the climbing Sun keeping Bo awake. There was too much to figure out, and too many problems to solve before construction could begin. He hunched over a stump, scribbling frantic calculations with a charcoal-tipped stick. Rocks, boards, logs, stone . . . the materials and quantities required for some of these blueprints boggled his mind. He needed to have a master list ready for Bridget soon. Not to mention each of the Dungeon blueprints required at least one Copper Coin as a magical payment. The payments were going to add up fast; one [Crappy Shack] cost ten Copper Coins.

Who the hell do I give the payment to?

A Shack also had other components; it required a table, chair and bed to be considered 'complete', and all those pieces required a Copper payment each. A completed Shack offered extra buffs, which was extremely important; they needed all the help they could get. But where would all that money come from? Hardly anyone had Coin to spare beside his own family and the Damascus's.

"Don't you need some sleep, Bo?" called out a passing watcher. The young White man wore a pair of bright pink earmuffs and a scarf. He stopped, and bowed. "I mean, Lord Robinson?" His lips moved as he read something, and then he grinned.

Bo waved him off. "Hard to sleep when I'm having so much fun."

"I bet." He looked at the stump and the blueprints, laughed, and continued his patrol.

Bo tapped the numbers with a charcoal-stained finger. They could still use the Shacks for sleeping, even if they weren't fully furnished yet. According to the blueprint, a 'completed' residence provided an XS.05 buff to healing regeneration during sleep, and every six hours of sleep would have the same effect as eight. There were a dozen other smaller XS.01 perks, including a warming buff.

Bo seriously wanted these perks. With everyone healed up and rested, they could get some serious work done around here. That, and things were supposed to be . . . 'completed'.

He suppressed a frustrated growl. His mind was mush.

Maybe he should get some sleep; he would probably think clearer.

He stared at the huddled forms of his sleeping family. Hana shivered in her blanket. He shook his head.

No, he couldn't stop. Not until he had a plan to follow.

He grabbed a fresh stump and rolled it closer to their fire.

I'd kill for an Excel spreadsheet.

Bo attacked the stump with charcoal and figures. He wrote a construction plan, including the materials needed, in what order, and how much that would cost. He took his best guesses on item durability. The embers in the fire burned low.

The Sun reached the middle of the horizon.

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Bo's lower back ached as he hunched over the final stump. His eyes were heavy. He made a final scratch of charcoal on wood, and stepped back to survey his work. Dozens of stumps littered the area, covered in calculations, diagrams, and several abandoned half-formed ideas. But he at least he finally had a plan.

"Bo! You get any shut-eye at all?" Sam's voice boomed across the hilltop. He and several other [Lumberjacks] approached, with bone Hatchets slung over shoulders.

Bo shook his head. "Sleep's overrated. How we looking on logs?"

"We have dozens of log piles ready to go. We're solid there. But if we get low," Sam jerked his thumb toward the [Lumberjacks], "they've gotten damn good at logging."

"Nice job, everyone. What about boards?"

Sam winced. "Not good. Even with the time-dilation, it takes hours to carve down the biggest logs to a few boards with these Hatchets. We waste a lot of wood, it's slow, and it's hell on the tools. Plus, the boards are warped and look like garbage. Currently we have about ten stacks of boards, but we need more tools to be effective! Saws, planers, chisels, lathes—the whole toolbox."

Bo picked up a blueprint. "I'm working on it, Sam, and I might have a solution for that. Says here we can build a lumber mill to speed things up, and it requires a lot of those tools. The building requires cut stone for a foundation and . . . " He trailed off, squinting at the fine print. "Fuck. It needs an established Settlement first. Now I have to figure out what the hell that means."

How the fuck did I miss that?

He turned in a slow circle, taking in the haphazard campfires and worn bedrolls scattered across the hilltop. This clearly didn't count as a 'Settlement'.

"I'll figure it out. Plan continues." Bo grabbed a stick and sketched crude rectangles in the dirt. "Pretend this is the hilltop. Then just down here, I'm going to focus on getting a Shack built right here." He made an X in the dirt. "So . . . if you could get me a log pile here to get started . . . then three log piles over here . . . and some boards over here." He made more marks in the dirt diagram. "I think that would get us up and rolling. Something to get a few folks out of the cold, and give everyone some hope, and a goal. We'll worry about the rest once we have the first roof over some heads."

The loggers nodded, and left.

Most of the campers were awake now. Some yawned and stretched.

The sunlight dimmed. Bo squinted at the overcast sky, which was heavy with the promise of snow. They were in a race against time and the elements.

Bo paced around the hill, and scouted potential building sites around it base.. It would be more difficult to build on the sloped hillsides, but it seemed safer than building down by the woods.

Overhead, the clouds thickened, and the wind picked up, but Bo paid them no mind. His entire being was focused on the singular goal of erecting that first Shack. They needed one small success to get started. Bo would make it happen, even if he had to build the damn thing by himself. There was no other option.

As he paced, waiting impatiently for the materials to be brought up, he felt a hand on his back.

Hana had walked up behind him. She hugged him.

"You didn't get any sleep again," she said, quietly. "You can't keep this up, Bo."

He was about to argue with her about the thousand important things that needed to be done. However, Tom and Kate were approaching—Tom leaning on Kate.

"Morning, I mean, afternoon Bo," said Tom. "What do you need from me? How can I help?"

"Dude, you need to lie the fuck down. I'll come get you if we need something."

Tom looked like he wanted to argue, but Kate shook her head and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Told you he would say no, honey."

Tom sighed. "All right. At least tell me the plan for today."

Bo pulled out a stack of folded blueprints and smoothed them on his knee. "We start with the basics: a [Crappy Shack]. But even that's gonna take a chunk of our limited materials." He tapped the paper, leaving a charcoal smudge. "On top of that, every component requires Copper. The Shack itself needs ten Coins, plus more for the furniture. All in, we're looking at sixteen Copper Coins per building."

Kate's eyebrow raised. "Furniture? Who's going to build that? Do we actually need furniture?"

"I have the blueprints for everything we need to make a completed Shack, and yeah we need the furniture. A completed Shack gives a pretty significant buff toward keeping everyone warm and healthy."

Tess wandered over from the family campfire.

Hana looked down at the blueprint in Bo's hand. "Well . . . wouldn't we be better off not building tables, and just letting someone sleep in the Shack where the table would have been? We'd get more people in that way?"

"No! See, then, we don't get the buff and it's not comple . . . look, I'll figure it out. I plan to use our Copper to get the buildings started. As far as the blueprints, I'm hoping to get a return on the investment. Anyone who takes a blueprint agrees to give a small percentage of their future profits back to the Kingdom. The same deal is handed down to anyone else they teach the blueprint to. It feels . . . dirty to be worrying about money and profits at a time like this, but I plan to funnel the money back into the Settlement."

Hana frowned. "Bo, we can't spend our entire Copper supply. Our abilities all say they require payment for upgrading. What if—"

"We'll get more," he snapped. "No matter what, we need a whole lot more Copper, and this is the best way to spend our money now. That's why we need to get to Chloe's land and start mining. The way I see it, we've got about 600 Copper to work with. If we use it right, that's over thirty Shacks. Not enough for everyone, but it's a start."

"What about training, Dad?" Tess's voice was tight. "We can't just put people in stick boxes and think we're safe."

We don't have time for this!

Bo rounded on her, his temper flaring. "Tess, I know that! We'll get to it. But, right now, shelter is the priority. We're going to stuff as many people in each one as possible, with the buffs. Being huddled together will help with warmth. Look at those clouds, Tess! We can't go train if we're all frozen solid!"

Hana laid a calming hand on Tess's arm. "Your Dad's right, Tess. We have to focus on one problem at a time. Let's get the Shacks built, then we can worry about the rest."

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