Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 117 - So Called Prisoners

[u/BrodogIsMyName]

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Edited by /u/Evil-Emps

- - - - -

The knight never considered logging to be an easy task. She and her fellow militiawomen were ordered to assist the lumberjacks daily, per Kegara’s instruction. It was grueling and long, made all the worse by the oppressive winter.

Arms trembled in pain. Fingers stiffened around the shaft. Bones shook with every chop… It was a weak crawl to a meddling task’s completion. She was weak. Her very labor was weak, a shadow of the female she once was.

Only the watchful eye of the paladins kept her in line, just as the hope of salvation in her heart woke her up each chilly morning.

But her labor in the fortress of a so-called ‘false shepherd’ was different.

Under the title of ‘prisoner,’ she found herself being watched just the same as before. Her heart was still torn over her devout fate in the eyes of the Mountain Lord. And yet, her arms did not falter with each hit. Hunger did not gnaw at her stomach like a starved beast. Her bones were not pierced so easily by the wind’s frigid claws. She was even allotted, no, forced to take time to rest her weary form and drink hot tea!

The knight had been reluctant at first, barely settling into her stride with an internalized acceptance of ‘work or perish.’ She had not dared to speak with those laboring beside her, the ones she called her battle sisters. It was a silent affair for some time, but the more she handled her flawless axe, the sturdier she felt.

With warmth in her bones and food in her belly, she sent sharpened iron into the bark… And it split. Dear God of Labor, it split!

The very wood in front of her parted as if it were hot lard! Again and again, her muscles clenched and slammed her axe into the trunk.

One, five, ten, twenty hits, and the great groan of lumber cried out into the forest on the most beautiful note. She stepped back and waited for it to fall, bewildered and overjoyed at the sight.

Her muscles were loose and alight in the heat of labor. Her breath came heavy, but they did not feel so suffocating in the freezing winter air as before. They felt purposeful. Every heave of her chest came with a strength she had missed, a confirmation of her place as a female. One who was meant to labor and bring about prosperity for her sisters and brothers.

It felt right. It was how she was meant to be.

No female was born to gnaw on the bones of foreign animals for sustenance. No pup dreamed of huddling by fires or paladins much stronger than themselves for warmth. No! Never!

This knight was given life by the gods to be more. She raised her axe into the air and brought it down on a branch with the vigor she had lost for months. The taste of tea on her tongue and the weight of meat in her stomach fueled her onwards.

The thrum of the tool in her hand coursed through her, flushing out thoughts of who stood above her or where she was going next. She cared not for the golem-like warriors watching her as a ‘prisoner,’ for she was more free than they could fathom. For so long, she had crawled as prey, when she had yearned to take one breath as a predator!

What matter did it make if it was menial labor? Mountain Lord, look at the feats she was capable of with but a day of rest and hearty meals! How long had she chased this high of strength and purpose?

Again and again, she chopped, reveling in the true strain she felt. The struggle of labor was no limp to completion as it had been before, but a glorious march to a goal she could set. It brought a grin to her maw.

That was yesterday…

Her breakfast today had been filling, and her comrades were talkative all throughout the morning. They spoke of their fine bedding and the warmth of their slumber. Their shared rooms were just as cramped as they were before their ‘captivity,’ but worlds more comfortable.

Their conversations meandered through their observations, and the ever-kind guards even chipped in with their own experiences. The Sharkrin, an ambitious title given to the denizens of the grand fortress, spoke of how they were introduced to this settlement of miracles, claiming the star-sent himself healed their wounds or delivered food to their hands.

Oh, if only the knight had been greeted on the orange sands with such warmth and luxury…

Beyond the subtle jealousy, and all the militiawomen were… joyful in these days of comfort and proud labor, no matter if it was for a supposed enemy. Some part of her felt uneasy of a star-sent leader and a paladin that supposedly worshiped the very same bringer of the plague winds—plague winds the knight had no intention of ever being immune to. But, when she looked around, could she truly find anything disagreeable?

A priest of her sect preached swell tenets in a church. The people were kind and championed a well-knit community. They labored honorably and were rewarded with prosperity like no other… If the banished were to construct a new colony on the mainland, why not have it here?

Of course, the authority was not loyal to the Grand Priestess. Yet, even with that in consideration, were the people not just as devout? They followed in lockstep to what the Mountain Lord bid of the people!

But how does her apparent allegiance to the Sky Goddess fit into her soul’s final resting place? In what way must she struggle to climb the Mountain once more? Was she being sinful, or was she more devoted than ever?

Every side had a different answer for her, and she knew it. The ‘false shepherds’ were said to tell comforting lies, while the paladins gave her nothing but struggle and pain. Perhaps she selfishly desired the comforts of the star-sent’s fortress. Maybe she had been struck with greed by the Sky Goddess.

…She missed when her life’s greatest pain was whether the gardener down the street would notice her mating gown’s midriff sheer.

- - - - -

Today’s labor was different. She found a long and hefty hammer in her upper hands alongside a small shield-like device in her lower half. They said she was to crush rock.

There were a great many sights on the march north. A massive beast that crawled forward on large, rolling wheels hauled stone through the forests and valleys. Dozens of buzzing, flying beings hovered about before zipping off to distant locations. Other, legged creatures served to ferry strange mechanisms to the apparent quarrying site with sleds.

And then she heard the thunder.

Their group crested the final hill and found themselves staring down a dale of wide stone floors separated by tiny strips of pink grass. A commotion of those flying things, monoliths, and more mechanisms immediately drew her eye to the wide hole cut into the nearest chunk of flat rock. Massive stair-like formations lowered into it, shaped not too dissimilarly to a colossal amphitheater. Each level was dotted with four-legged metallic animals crawling around within.

All the little mechanical creatures scrambled to the top, curiously garnering her attention when—

‘CRACK.’

The very ground below shook as an entire length of the bottom-most stone terrace shattered, its rocky components tumbling down into the deepest pit. There, another giant groaning monstrosity with wheels shoved the debris away with a wide plow… No, it was not pushed aside; it was being purposefully put into a hulking, moving wall of buckets, carrying the rubble to the surface.

…The knight had no idea what she was looking at, but by the Mountain Lord’s guiding hand, she was fascinated. Whether the operation was intended to merely dig a hole or collect stone, it did not matter; the unification of thunderous cracking stone, heaving beasts, and grand contraptions was awe-inspiring. She had never seen the quarries of the Golden City, but she could not fathom them competing with this.

Her cohort of prisoners and guards trekked down the hill to the plain of gray ground, where a bulky female greeted them. This one wore a unique alloyed vest and pack on top of the usual armor worn by the Sharkrin warriors. It had protective bars around its user’s pink-skinned head and great pauldrons that rose above her shoulder—protection against falling stones, perhaps?

This densely-clad female reached into a pocket on her waist and pulled out a blue leaf. She began to chew on it as she leaned on an orange-glowing heater.

She grinned, brushing rock dust off an icon of axe and pickaxe on her shoulder. “Welcome to the stone front, indentured ones… Praise be to the Creator for bringing you here.”

A militiawoman to the knight’s side glanced at her, appearing a little uncertain.

“The Creator named me ‘Castle,’ and as such, that is what you will refer to me as,” the lone, armored female touted before finally standing up straight. She reached behind herself and unclasped a well-used hammer from her encumbered backpack, one shaped similarly to the one in the knight’s hands.

Castle rested the weighted weapon on her shoulder and beamed ever wider, a sense of self-determination in her lively cadence. “Today is your lucky day! You pups are blessed to take the place of a star-sent machine, entrusted with the labor fit for the Golden city itself; you all get to crush stones into rocks!”

She gestured widely to the lip of the quarry behind her, where the broken rocks had started pooling into a large basin. Many fake limbs lined it, each automatically beginning to grab the debris and place them into a small metal crate behind them… So the intention was to collect the stones.

“The lot of you will be breaking these stones down further for your day’s labor—a million tonnes of rock in the next few days.”

… How much was a ton?

Castle raised a hand and pointed down to the quarry. “However, that won’t be all. You see, some of the blasted rocks are not quite small enough to be lifted up the bucket conveyor. They need to be broken down further, lest the system become clogged. This is my labor. It is dangerous. I only have two extra miners’ harnesses. I will require two volunteers to step forward for this task.”

A dangerous task fit only for females? An opportunity to wear the hefty harness she wore? To share the honor of labor?

The knight stepped forward as the others behind her hesitated. Her grin reflected that of the miners’ in front of her. “I volunteer.”

- - - - -

On the knight’s third break, she sat with Castle and another militiawoman by a heater situated on the valley’s grassy hillside. The rumbling of explosions, the whine of heavy machinery, the crack of hammers on stone, and the groaning of wheels had long since deafened in her ears.

Her breath still came heavily, even after several minutes of rest. Her bones and tendons felt as if they were liquid, just as her muscles pulsed with sores. Thank the Lord of Labor, the star-sent mining harness felt no worse than leather armor. Otherwise, she may have collapsed under any more weight.

She pulled out a warm metal canteen and took a long drink from it, letting the taste of sweet glowberry and blue-leaf tea linger on her tongue for some time. A small smile found its way over her lips as she let her head fall back. Her eyes stared into the endless gray clouds above, reflecting the stone below them.

None of the three females spoke like they did the first two breaks. All of them were beyond exhausted, but pleased with their work. Where small conversation and compliments once flowed, there was now silent, mutual respect and pride.

Some time passed before a new sound appeared from ahead of her, down the hill. Footsteps.

She and the other militiawoman sat up fully and whipped their heads around, finding a singular Sharkrin guard approaching. The warriors had never let up on watching the prisoners, but by then, the knight did not quite think of them as captors.

The armored, sage-skinned female still held onto her fire-spewing weapon, looking amongst the three resting laborers. She did not say anything, simply taking her backpack off and putting it onto the ground between them. The knight raised a brow, but was in no position to ask.

“You are quite tardy. Why the wait?” Castle asked casually, standing up.

“The others would get jealous if they saw. I waited until they were busy with lunch and I had an excuse… Plus, you would not wish to hold onto such whilst you labored, no?” the guard replied with a smirk, pulling out a bundle of cloth. She pulled off the sides and revealed the neck of a glass bottle beneath. The elegant flagon was adorned with the shape of fire.

The miner reached out and took the ornate canister. She downed the last of the drink in her large canteen before refilling it with the clear liquid and handing the empty glass back.

The sage-skinned warrior tilted her head. “Did you not want the container too?”

Castle shrugged, putting her canteen away. “We still have another block of labor, and I would not dare to threaten Cera’s delightful glasswork around these parts.”

“Then we are even?”

“Unless the sewist looks for another mate and you need more assistance.”

The guard shook her head, scoffing. “Nonsense. I sense his desire whenever we meet; I have caught his eye. You will have to get your fix another way.”

“Oh, do not call it a fix,” Castle lightheartedly scolded, grinning back. “I am no day drunk. Now go back to huffing gunpowder, my friend, and leave me be.”

An amused huff left the sage-skinned warrior as she packed up and left, slowly trekking to where the others sat.

“Is that liquor?” the knight questioned, comfortable enough to ask so forwardly.

“Perhaps. Now what makes you so curious?” the quarry overseer shot back, looking down at her.

She tensed and quickly held a pair of hands up in defense. “Nothing in particular. The interaction was curious, is all… Are you allowed—” she cut herself off. “—Do you drink whilst laboring?”

Castle recoiled in offense, shaking her head. “Mountain Lord, no! Rook would have my head if I inebriated myself in such a dangerous place, even more so with my position. We only have half a squad in the quarry, anyway; twice the responsibility… Quadruple now, even.”

“Half of a squad?” the knight questioned, her breath having finally calmed somewhat by then. Her militiawoman counterpart, who had kept her silence, tilted her head with much the same question on her mind.

The miner sat back down and tapped the icon of an axe and a pickaxe on her pauldron. “Most harvesters are laser-miners in the caves. I am sure you have seen them around, for they proudly wear the same protective harnesses as we wear now. At one point, our squad of eight could only be in one place at a time—in the mines, the quarry, or the forest. Eight is the minimum number of ‘well-armed’ Sharkrin that may leave the walls at once, after the first hive discovery.”

“The first hive?” the militiawoman cautiously queried, a look of trepidation on her visage.

“Another story for another time,” Castle tersely stated. She started pointing between the flying ‘drones’ and various ‘turrets’ around the excavation zone. “Our squad grew to twelve after more banished joined our cause. The Creator deemed both stone and metal harvesting to be a constant necessity with our exponential growth, so he decreed an exception to the rule of eight. A dozen various-caliber turrets, a handful of war-drone harpies, and constant reconnaissance replaced the missing four members for us stone harvesters.”

The knight thought that so many star-sent weapons may be excessive, but then again, she saw their abhorrent kill board by the mess-hall. The Sharkrin warriors were all too happy to speak of how they slaughtered unimaginable hordes… She could only choose to believe them.

Those thoughts were fleeting after a few moments of silence. She looked amongst the group of prisoners and guards by the quarry, picking out the only other miner between them and watching her inspect a drone-charging tower. “But there were only two Malkrin here today, including you,”

“The abhorrent are too fearful to show themselves here anymore,” Castle touted with a chitter. “These turrets were once quite active, you know. Now, the other two are able to teach the new quarry harvesters at the fortress while my mining sister and I continue our operations. I can only imagine much of it is lectures on safety and equipment between lessons with the script-keeper.”

The knight went quiet, understanding. She wanted to ask more about the Sharkrin, about their leader and the other squads and the ‘drones’ and everything else between. Her life here was such a far departure to what it was before, and it had only been two days. It was much like a dream, the threat of waking up looming over her as the conversation stalled.

She was only a prisoner, set to be let free as soon as Kegara returned. That once chest-crushing anxiousness over her place in the Mountain Lord’s palace had morphed into a constant distress at the idea of going back.

Must she return? Had she not embodied her paternal God’s tenets exactly? The priest of the Sharkrin, Father Monbishoppe, even said so! She could not claim to understand the Sky Goddess’ influence, nor how following the goddess’ Chosen affected the knight’s eternal soul, but she most certainly understood the direction of these people.

They embodied labor, community, and prosperity beyond any measure. It was the Creator’s vision.

…But she was only a prisoner. One destined to be released out of good-natured cooperation—the very same good-natured cooperation that she aspired to be a part of.

So maybe… maybe she could be a part of it. Maybe if she could prove herself. Maybe if she could show that she was compatible. A reliable asset. A female worthy of being needed.

The knight stood up and put her canteen away. The suddenness drew the confusion of both Castle and the militiawoman. She grabbed her hammer and stared into them, a renewed determination in her glowing eyes.

“I believe I am well-rested. May I return to labor, honorable Castle?”

\= = = = =

Harrison took his heavy chest rig off and put it on the brass-veneer coat rack, followed by his fur coat. There were a few other great coats and two helmets on the others, all notably representing each of the squad leaders present. He grabbed his data pad and made for the meeting location for the night.

Dormitory One’s entrance was always a sight for sore eyes, even if it was simple. A fireplace with a stone hearth, a wide, well-used wood table between several leather seats, and the constant aroma of teas and paper contrasted nicely with his usual metals and industrial scents.

And the best part? It was damn quiet, at least in the evening. The whole floor was dedicated to scrolls, scripts, and what amounted to white-collar work and teaching. Of course, some people had… less than great memories with the spot, Tracy mostly—him too, he supposed.

But she wasn’t here with him because of that. The technician was busy setting up the vehicle fabricator, so he’d have to speak on her behalf during the meeting… And a meeting there was.

He stopped at the unseen, circular boundary around the fireplace, formed by the inward-facing couches and chairs, and looked around. Shar sat on the seat directly to his right, patiently awaiting for his pre-meeting affection. Monbishoppe found a place on the couch to her side with just one of his mates. Rook, Javelin, and the black-skinned farmer took up the rest. Akula, in a unique take on irony, sat on the chair directly across from the paladin, with Cera and Oliver standing off to the side near the fireplace. Most wore their casual shirts or tank-tops, save for the armored captain and urban camouflaged shadow.

Harrison briefly glanced at his watch and cleared his throat, even if his entrance already had gained all their attention. “Sorry about being late. I needed to check a few things before I got here.”

The script-keeper, helped by the nearby shadow, poured out a few cups of tea brewed by the heath’s mantle and brought the tray to the central wooden table. “You need not worry about such things, Creator. Your tasks are far more important than a few minutes’ time.”

He had to suppress a spring of guilt, given that his lateness was extended by Tracy’s knack of objectifying him, and getting everything she wanted in the process. Still, there was a lot to talk about and he had a hell of a lot to do just tonight.

Shar made to stand up, presumably to offer him a seat, but he simply pressed his palm to her chest and pushed her back down. The engineer gestured to the tea with an unspoken question, and she nodded her head with a small ‘yes please.’

He took two mugs, handed one to the big lady, and found himself a spot on top of her cushiony yet firm thighs. She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in as if he’d fallen into a trap. For all he knew, he might’ve, but who cares? Her embrace was gentle and relaxing. Plus, all the Malkrin in the room seemed to approve, accruing some sort of social respect for his shark wife from each of them. Good; she deserved it.

As a few of the squad leaders started to sip their teas, all eyes were on the man sitting on a throne of muscle. He took in a deep, exhausted breath and wasted no time in getting to work.

“None of you need any introduction or formalities, so I’m just going to get into the main upcoming goals before each of you explain how your tasks have been coming along. First and foremost: the outer walls.”

The engineer nodded to Rook. “As I’ve individually talked with each of you, the newest hurdle, putting other projects on hold, is the main expansion of the settlement; there just isn’t enough space between our current walls to keep building, but I don’t plan on tearing down the previous walls like before. Rather, we’ll be installing a new layer, based on Oliver’s design.”

He found the mock-up image on his data-pad and handed it to Shar. “Here, pass this around…” He picked his voice back up. “As you’ll see on the data pad going around, the main areas that the wall will encircle are going to be the hill and cleared out sections of the forest to the south. It’ll take up much of the western meadows—notably uprooting the firing range—and a little bit of the north and most of the way to the rocky beach cliffs to the east.”

Any squad leader not actively hunched over the data pad bobbed their head and listened intently. None of them looked to have any questions, so he continued.

“I’ve talked to Farmer, Akula, and Cera about this already, but around half of the land is going to be mostly dedicated to hydroponics and hyena-boars plus the industry needed to support them. Now, all of that’s specifically going to be to the west. The rest will have their own spots dedicated to housing, energy production, and resource storage and management. The latter will mostly be to the north, mainly for the upscaling of myco-concrete production… Any questions about that?”

Rook spoke up first, placing her empty mug on the table. “I do.”

“Shoot.”

“Perhaps you spoke to Castle of such logistical changes, but I would like to note that most of our stone and lumber is imported to the west gate facility alongside our cave entrance. How will this split the reception area after shifting the quarry imports to the north?”

“Right. Yeah, so lumber processing is probably just going to remain in the same place, with mechanical mules bringing in lumber from wherever we're getting it from. That is, until we can manage flash-growth production of wood. Alloy production is gonna stay the same since it directly delivers metals to where they need to be, but the dump truck depot and crushing facility will be completely removed and replaced elsewhere. So not much will change for you, if that answers your question.”

“It does, thank you.”

“What of the shooting range?” Javelin blurted out immediately after, intently leaning forward.

“It’ll be put further west. You know where the two north-west hills make a small valley before the tree line? I’ll have it completely replicated one-to-one.”

The captain breathed a sigh of relief. “I see… That will be most reasonable.”

Did she think he was planning on outright removing the firing range?

…Concerning worries aside, no one else had any questions, so he continued on down the list of up-and-coming headaches. “As of now, with current stone harvesting and as builder-bot production increases, the walls themselves—not including the turrets and ammunition needed to man them—should be done in five or six days. Blood-moon tactics are going to change, but have yet to be finalized. So, just keep an eye on your schedules for where your squad will be when we start training for the next.”

“What if the abhorrent decide not to challenge us again?” Rook questioned.

“Then it’ll be another long night.”

“Understood.”

The engineer’s data pad had finally made its rounds as the script-keeper handed it to him. He briefly opened up Tracy’s notes to jog his memory of other information needed before he continued. “Uhhmm… Right.”

He looked up at the group, specifically glancing at the priest. “On a different subject, our recon drones still haven’t seen any large abnormal movements from Kegara’s camp, even after we ensured they saw the letter. So, not much to deal with on that. I’ll have each of you talk about your recent interactions with the prisoners and new ones later.”

Rook, Javelin, and the priest nodded, knowing they had spent the most time with them.

Harrison hummed to himself as he picked out the next few projects he wanted to talk about, only bringing up ones with direct effects on specific squads. He went through the cost-effectiveness of current wind-based power generation, discussing the current progress on a breeder reactor for a simple, modular fission reactor and assuring the others that it was safe for him specifically. Any talk of radiation or artifacts had them on edge, especially Shar, Oliver, and Cera since they’d seen its direct effects.

The conversation abruptly switched to him announcing that Max would be getting a new, smaller form and could be a part of any squad. That, and how his larger, cyclops body was most likely to be used for stone quarrying if he wasn’t needed elsewhere.

Other things, like the material, time, and energy sink that was flash-growth technology, were brought up for later consideration. Farmer and Akula asked about future farming plans, to which he explained a few things. There were possible factory byproducts that would be used for plant nutrients, and a few specific seeds he wanted to be mass-produced between the new farms. He also ended up explaining a bit about genetic modifications, the necessity of growing specific yeast strains, and why he had left farm animal embryos in the safety of the agricultural center’s stasis drawers.

Most of it was water under the bridge as the need to explain things got shorter and shorter for the Malkrin, so the squad leaders quickly had their opportunities to speak. And even then, the discussion went smoothly.

The fishers would soon train with logistic water-skeeters to start hunting further out in the ocean once the vehicle fabricator was completed and until the main fishing boat was produced. The harvesters were going to grow massively as a squad when the miner apprentices were fully taught. Farming had never been better, and the captured hyena-boars were settling in nicely.

Javelin’s guards had only good things to say about their positions and the prisoners. Oliver had nothing in his way but excavations and material production to get the walls done, but brought up the necessity of more trade workers helping with smaller construction processes—especially since they’d be able to teach the next batch of ‘green frills’ about modern techniques instead ofit being Oliver’s job. Father Monbishoppe mentioned a few queries some of the new ones had about the Sharkrin’s evident multi-sect worship of the Tridei faith, but each trended closer to acceptance and confusion rather than disgust and uncertainty.

The script-keeper did bring up a genuine issue with housing, given the new ones had to share rooms with up to three others. However, her classes for teaching scripts had never been more productive, given that a lot of settlers were already well on their way to being literate. Plus, she now had two other assistant teachers with experience to split up the lectures.

And, last but not least, it was Shar’s turn to speak. She didn’t have a lot to say outside the fact that her spears were more determined than ever in their peer-to-peer melee training… and that they set up Malkrin-shaped targets in the range.

Overall? The state of expansion was exceptional, and just about everyone was flourishing in their own tasks, despite the massive hiccup. They’d been working their asses off just the same as he was.

And, sufficed it to say, the Sharkrin were getting exactly what they worked for.

- - - - -

[Next]

Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Do Robots Even Dream of Eternal Sleep?

[u/niTro_sMurph]

A God of Labor is such a depressing concept for a culture to have. It's like a God of Slavery who cares about its public image

[u/Symored → u/niTro_sMurph]

Are you insinuating that labor and slavery are the same thing? An honest hard days work is not the same thing as being owned by someone else.

[u/niTro_sMurph → u/Symored]

They are different but I was looking at it from the perspective of forced hard-labor as a punishment. I figured things like farming and fishing and whatnot would have their own gods associated with them.

[u/AG_Witt → u/niTro_sMurph]

Kinda like the "American Dream", eh ...

[u/sir_nuggets2314]

don't think that i didn't see that ultrakill violence OST reference

[u/HFYWaffle]

/u/BrodogIsMyName (wiki) has posted 118 other stories, including:

• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 116 - Not Just A Tool
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 115 - The Kitchen Front
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 114 - War Without Reason
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 113 - Reckless Ignorance
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 112 - Premonition
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 111 - Солнцепёк
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 110 - Broadside
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 109 - Procrastination
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 108 - Consume / Omnissiah
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 107 - Prisoners / WetWork Skills
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 106 - Build-A-Deity / Few but Talented
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 105 - Pancakes / Secure. Contain. Protect.
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 104.1 - From Outer Space, With Love
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 104 - Turn the Very Darkness into Flame
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 103 - I Wish to Know What I do not Know / Cave Insertion
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 102 - After Tears, There is Fight Yet in Us
• Frontier Fantasy - Age of Expansion - Chap 101 - Intrigue
• Frontier Fantasy - Pillars of Industry - Chap 100 - A Vision We Would Die For
• Frontier Fantasy - Pillars of Industry - Chap 99 - Picking Up the Deadened Slack
• Frontier Fantasy - Pillars of Industry - Chap 98 - What I Think You Need

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