Andrew was on an inspection. He needed to see what sort of businesses had survived the move of the main road to the west.
He passed by an apothecary. Then he noted a convenience store and a bakery. He was satisfied that there was a soup kitchen.
But the problem was that he didn't see even a single workshop. No one was producing anything that wasn't essential.
That told him all that he needed to know about the state of the common man's finances in Oak's Rest.
He knew that he couldn't just spring the factories and workshops. He also knew that if he opened workplaces, he had to make a guarantee that the locals would have them.
Andrew stopped before a guard, who was keeping the peace by the single fountain in the town.
"Good day," the siren began, as he waved at the man. "May I ask you a couple of questions about the town?"
The guard nodded. They both sat down under the shade of an old tree. Andrew began with the most vital thing on his mind.
"In what state are the town's defenses?" Because, even if he didn't like to admit it, he could be as opportunist as he wished, but if the town was taken down by goblins or other creatures, all of his work would be for nothing.
"The wall is about to fall over. Only the dirt and moss are keeping it in place," the bitterness in the guard's voice was clear to be heard.
Andrew nodded.
"Not to mention we have to fight with these," the man took off his sword with more than a little trouble.
If the blade had ever been the fine gray iron color that Andrew loved on knives, there were no traces of that left.
The siren knew that such a dull blade could not cut a watermelon, much less hack through flesh.
"Not to mention," the guard continued, as his stomach grumbled. "That we are on rations. Rations we give to our families, so they won't starve."
The siren nodded.
Then he wavered.
How were the other town's folk going to react if he gave free food to just the guards? Were they going to grow bitter?
The man's stomach grumbled again.
Andrew made his choice.
"Here," he began to take out crate after crate of the food. Piling it by the guard. "Please arrange that this will be delivered to your brethren."
A couple of passersby stood there, with wide eyes, staring at the food.
"And please, help me distribute the food to the people."
Andrew didn't know it, but as the crowds began to step towards him, he earned more than one blessing from a hungry heart.
****
The four were in the training yard, trying to get their formations down to pat.
"Switch!" Dimitri yelled, as Nikola was nearly surrounded.
Jack and Jean made a double back from the boss mob dummy they had been fighting.
Jean threw some of his throwing knives at the dummies' ankles, forcing them to topple down.
Jack jumped into the air, bashed the boss dummy with his shield, and then landed like a cat on all fours.
Soon, he was sprinting towards Nikola, who was backing away.
Nikola felt as something massive jumped behind him.
He rolled out of the way of a punch.
The buffing stopped for just a second. Their fatigue took over.
The second boss mob dummy tapped Nikola on the back, before going back to its place alongside the wall.
Nikola bowed his head.
No matter how much he trained, he was still the weakest link in the party.
"Ok, huddle time," Jack said, who was stretching as a cool down.
All four of them huddled together. The three looked at Dimitri for the verdict.
"We have grown too reliant on Nikola for buffs," he said, voicing each one of their worries. "And Niki, you have to learn how to fight without the flute. It is just not enough. Today, the boss mob tapped you. Tomorrow, it will hang you by your own entrails."
Nikola bowed his head. He knew that.
"I don't have a different weapon," he murmured. "The Leshy gave me a branch and iron, but I have no idea how to make them into a weapon."
"I've been reading in the library," Jean said, looking at Nikola. "There is a ritual to make a spirit weapon. I think I can make it, but I need a bit of your blood."
Nikola nodded. Everything was better than having only a flute to fight with.
"Jack, you are a war hound and a half, and I mean that in the best possible way," Dimitri told the ghoul. "You learn quickly and do extra hours of training. But you are paying for that with your sleep. Don't burn the candle on both ends. We have money. We can afford to pay off our quotas."
Jack nodded.
Still making plans to drag them to the training field as often as possible.
The day some goblin got the drop on him, he was going to eat his own hat.
He was even willing to buy one just for that purpose.
"Jean, you are getting better with the throwing knives," Dimitri said with a gentle smile. The younger vampire beamed at him. "But your main purpose as a rogue is to give support not just to the tank, but also to guard the healer and songweaver."
Jean scratched himself behind the head.
"I just wanted to test my strength," he murmured.
"I know it is cooler to take down the boss, but the boss is never alone. Do keep that in mind," Dimitri finished, then he took in a deep breath.
"Ok, tear me apart," he said, a grin on his lips.
"You are a good party leader, but your heals can come faster," Jean was the first to say. He pointed at a scrap on his knee. "Mind healing that?"
Nikola was the next one to open his mouth.
"And maybe yell out the commands louder? I was next to you and had trouble hearing them. They were all sound, mind you, but you don't yell them out. You say it so, as if we are alone in a room."
Dimitri nodded.
He looked at Jack as if he were expecting the finishing blow.
"You can start to have staff lessons. We can get you a fighting staff and connect a mana crystal to it, so you can fight when you are cornered."
Dimitri nodded.
"Good. I expected something harsher," the crimson-eyed vampire admitted.
His little family clapped him on the back.
They couldn't wish for a better leader.