The Founder is a Three-Year-Old!

Goliath shed his cloak as he began climbing the next hill. The seasons turned quickly here. It was becoming warmer by the hour, and it was only the first day of spring. The frozen landscape from yesterday was already thawing, making way for green shoots and buds in the foliage along the neglected trail he had happened upon. Seeing Falloway after all these years had been unsettling. Back then, he had been young and stupid. A mere boy who stumbled on an unclaimed village and had the optimism of youth to think he could make it work. And today? What would he do if he ever stumbled on an unclaimed village again? Goliath laughed at the thought. It wasn’t like Villaria was littered with unclaimed villages, just waiting for a fool like he had been to discover it.

But what if you did find one? Would you be a better steward this time? The words blew by him on the heels of a light breeze.

Goliath stopped and looked around. He didn’t see anyone who could’ve spoken. Did he imagine it?

Would you? another gust blew by.

Goliath shook his head. He had never liked the magical aura of this land. It got men into strange situations. But, on a lonely day like this, he supposed there was no harm in talking to a wind spirit. However, he did start paying more attention to his surroundings. Wind spirits had a reputation for slapstick trickery. Although, this one appeared to be more of a conversationalist thus far.

'Yes,' he replied out loud. 'I have learned a lot. This time, I would be better.'

What would be different?

Goliath considered. After his dismal failure in Falloway, he had learned much about leadership and being a good steward, first as a foot soldier and later as a commanding officer. It had been a struggle initially. He had been stubborn and prideful. But he had also been in the company of good men, and eventually, he had managed to right himself through the examples of his comrades and observing good leaders in action. He knew where he had gone wrong and had spent most of his army career on righting it.

‘What would be different is that now I know what a true leader is,’ he replied.

And what is a true leader?

‘A true leader works for the betterment of his people. A true leader leads by example. A true leader works for the greater good, regardless of position or benefit to himself. And, most of all, a true leader serves.’

He felt a final whoosh as the wind spirit left while he climbed the last few steps to the top of the hill. It wasn’t surprising. Wind spirits were known for their flightiness. At least he hadn’t fallen victim to any of its tricks.

And then, as he crested the hill, a valley opened up before him, bathed in the sun’s golden rays, shimmering with gold as the yellowed grasslands waved in the wind. A blue river trailed through it, and right on the edge where woodlands climbed the furthest hills sat the ruins of a village. Goliath froze.

It could not. It was probably just another little village ruined by the war. That was a frequent tactic of the Wolf faction. They broke the people by breaking the console stones of their settlements, thus breaking apart the very structure of their homes. No village ever returns from that fate. It will sit in the landscape slowly crumbling away until fully reclaimed by nature. There was nothing there. It was just a trick of the wind spirit. He took a step towards it, even as he hesitated. And then another step. Then, he started a casual jog. The first person who touched the console stone became the founder. He knew this. The village was ruined. It probably didn't even have a functional console stone. Plus, he was the only person around. But still, he quickened his pace until, finally, he flat-out ran for the village.

It was easy to leap the crumbling wall, after which he leaned on his knees to catch his breath. From afar, he had thought the village completely decayed, but now he could see that there were still a few mostly intact structures. There were even some hints that this village had once been a town. Not in the structures, of course. When town status was lost, the town structures downgraded back to village huts just as quickly as they upgraded to town structures when the necessary material had been collected. But you could see the hints of this being a town in the layout, the slightly broader streets, and the area over which the structures were spread. It was much too large and too orderly to have been a village at the point of its reversal.

That in itself was unusual. A low, windy whistle eddied through the dust down the street. The wind spirit again? Goliath stepped forward, feeling the weight shift under his feet. Instinct took over as he dodged to the left, the plank that was hidden under a layer of soil smacking upward, missing his face by millimetres. In the distance he imagined he could hear a windy giggle. Yes, the wind spirit was still around. He was more careful as he proceeded forward to the centre of the village, where he could see the curves of a basic administration building across a small village plain.

He stopped and cocked his head at the crunch of dried twigs coming from a side street. After a moment, two basic automatons with rudimentary spears in their hands rolled into the open. Each had an oval main body and a round head. Automatons were the first available constructs on the town menu and were meant to act as basic workers until inhabitants could be trained. After this step, the more advanced construct menu would become accessible. But these two constructs looked different than the models he had started with in his previous village. They looked less polished and had a bronze-ish sheen to them, harkening back to some examples from antiquity he had seen. It was possible that this was just an ancient village.

From time to time, a settlement’s construct menu would upgrade as discoveries and inventions were made. Sometimes, this meant changes to the structural specifications of automatons. Normally, these would be integrated when the town interface assistant updated. It looked like this one might be a few updates behind. Quite a few. But they were still automatons, and he knew they were capable of very basic interaction. One was carrying a branch with three crabapples. They froze as they perceived him. Then, they turned around as one and speedily rolled away.

‘Wait,’ Goliath called.

They did not respond, but their wheels sped up as they disappeared behind a dilapidated building that still had most of its walls intact. Through a broken section, Goliath saw them turn and head toward the administration building. He shook his head. He should’ve known better. This town, as awful as its condition was, was claimed. The two automatons were rolling proof of that. This is what comes of engaging with wind spirits.

The sun was just past its zenith in the sky. If he started now, he could still get a few kilometres in before making camp for the night. He turned around and stepped into a trap. Yelping, he grabbed at his backpack as a strap simultaneously snapped, toppling him with the pull of the suddenly unbalanced weight on his back. Lying on the ground, he lifted his foot. Not a trap. It was in an old bucket. He shook his foot. The bucket didn’t budge.

Sighing, he sat upright, removed the bucket from his foot, and studied the broken strap on his backpack. He needed a way to fix it before he moved on. Getting up, he reluctantly made his way to the administration building. What windows there were were cracked and caked with dirt, and the front door hung skew and slightly ajar. Goliath looked at the small porch’s rotten and splintering planks. Then he walked around the building to the back door and knocked. Muffled noises came from the inside, but no one came to the door. He knocked again. This time it was completely quiet. Had he imagined the sounds? He reached out and opened the door, stepping inside while looking around cautiously. He half expected Wolf raiders to jump out at him with their battle axes, but that didn’t happen.

‘Hello,’ he called. ‘Is anybody there?’

He thought he heard a silent mutter and a muted ‘shhh’ from deeper inside.

‘I mean you no harm,’ he continued. ‘My backstrap broke, and I was hoping you had something I could use to fix it?’

He walked through the first room and into the corridor beyond. He heard the wheels whirl again as the two constructs rolled into the corridor from the opposite end and stopped in front of him.

‘Can I speak with the Founder?’ he addressed them, hoping either the interface assistant or founder was listening.

The constructs twisted to face each other and then re-oriented towards him. Then they shook their heads from side to side in harmony.

‘How about the interface assistant then? Is it around?’

Once again the constructs looked at each other before shaking their heads.

Goliath was dumbfounded. Although, he supposed a founder could run their village any way they wished. Who was he to question anyone in charge of a village?

‘Okay,’ he said, gripping his broken strap to keep the backpack in place. ‘I’ll go then.’

Just as he turned around, there was a sudden squeal, followed by some more shushing, from a room behind the two constructs. He looked at the constructs, who both lowered their antiquated spears at him. If someone was being kept against their will, he had a duty to intervene. Wishing for his shield, he charged, using his arm guards to deflect the badly held spears and shoving the two constructs aside, he busted through the door.

Then he jerked to a stop and stared. A town interface assistant stared back, along with a small girl in a strange pink dress by her side. The little girl took one look at him and began to cry, trying to cling onto the assistant, but her hands slid right through the light projection. The two guards rolled past him, one now slightly wobbling on a bent wheel, taking positions on each side of the females.

‘What is this?’ Goliath asked.

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