Lucien stepped out of his new house and paused, quietly absorbing the scene.
The artifact had clearly taken both of his previous personalities into consideration when he built this place.
His house was built entirely from thick, well-treated wood—dark-stained beams, slanted roofs, and reinforced panels gave it a sturdy but natural feel.
The structure itself formed a wide "U" shape, enclosing a rectangular courtyard large enough to serve as a full training ground.
From where he stood, at the open side of the U, he could see the gate built into the outer wooden wall directly ahead, framed by two tall watchtowers.
The courtyard stretched before him, with compacted dirt in the centre, clearly meant for sparring and drills.
A few wooden dummies had already been set up.
He turned first to the right wing... the military and private section of the house.
The ground floor held the armoury at the back, positioned for easy access to the courtyard.
Just ahead of it were the barracks, meant for guards or guests who didn't require luxury.
The rooms were narrow but clean, with thick wooden bunks and weapon racks along the walls.
Lucien's own quarters were above, on the upper floor.
His room overlooked the courtyard and caught the morning light through large shuttered windows.
Attached to his quarters was a private bathroom, and just down the hall... a study.
Modest in size, with a desk, a few shelves, and a chair by the window.
Enough space to read, plan, or think. Tucked further back, next to the study, was a small training room.
It was compact, large enough for a solo session, equipped with basic wooden equipment for practicing footwork, strikes, or light drills.
He crossed the courtyard to the left wing, the administrative side.
This was the more refined part of the estate, though still built entirely from wood like the rest.
The first room he passed was his personal office, positioned right after the Great Hall for quick access.
A long desk and empty scroll shelves waited there. Beside it, the Internal Affairs office... simpler, more practical.
Further down, past a wide hallway, was the Army Logistics room, and at the far end, the infirmary.
It had a cot, clean bandages, and a small hearth for warmth or sterilization.
Between the offices was a library... though, disappointingly, all the scrolls inside were blank.
Still, the structure was there.
Lucien returned to the base of the U. Here stood the Main Hall, starting with a wide entrance that funnelled into the Great Hall... a high-ceilinged space with wooden columns and beams arching overhead.
To the left of the Great Hall was the dining room, modest in size but comfortable. Just behind it, the kitchen... stocked with tools but not yet supplies.
Beneath the floor of the Great Hall, Lucien knew, was a hidden vault. He hadn't opened it yet.
He glanced back toward the courtyard. Near the rear corner beside the armoury, a small wooden shed stood... probably meant for repairs or crafting.
It had a few scattered tools already lying inside.
At the opposite end, tucked beside the outer wall, were a couple of animal pens.
Empty now, but ready for livestock or horses when needed.
Enclosing everything was the outer wall, also made from solid timber, thick and reinforced.
Four corner towers and two mid-wall towers rose slightly above the perimeter... basic defensive structures but enough to watch the surrounding area.
Lucien stepped out from the wooden gates of his compound.
The morning air was crisp, and a faint scent of pine still lingered on the wind... a remnant of the freshly cut trees used to raise this village from the dirt.
His eyes swept the view before him. His own home stood tallest at the heart of the settlement, a large U-shaped structure dominating the area.
All around it, homes of varying size had been erected in tight clusters, still smelling of sap.
He moved slowly through the streets, taking in the effort that had already gone into this place. There were easily over a five hundred homes... more than he had first anticipated.
His path took him south, away from his compound's gate.
The dwellings gave way to a broad, open square of hard-packed earth... the marketplace.
It was strategically placed, a short walk from his home yet central to the surrounding neighbourhoods.
Empty stalls lined the perimeter, their awnings waiting for the first goods to appear.
On the far side of the square stood a long, low building with a prominent chimney.
The Longhouse-type Inn, he presumed, positioned to receive travellers without them needing to traverse the entire settlement.
He continued, his gaze cataloguing everything.
To the east, beyond the market, the air shimmered with the first hints of heat and the scent of what he knew to be charcoal.
The Crafters' Quarter.
He could make out the distinct, open-sided shed of the wood wright's workshop, piles of fresh timber stacked beside it.
Further in, the stone foundation and clay-daubed walls of the blacksmith forge stood ready.
It was placed downwind in such a way that its future smoke and noise carried away from the homes.
A soft, lowing sound drew his attention west.
There, nestled against the main wall, were the animal pens and coops he'd seen on a smaller scale in his own courtyard, but these were larger, built to sustain a community.
Just beyond them, the functional, slanted roofs of the smokehouse and drying sheds marked the preservation area.
And standing apart, stout and formidable with a guarded door, was the granary complex. He noted its position... central for distribution, yet defensible.
His circuit brought him back toward the heart of the village beside his house.
Nearby, a smaller, quieter structure with a herb garden at its side could only be the hospice.
And beside it, a building with larger windows, meant to let in light for reading and writing: the Scholar's House.
The artifact had thought of everything, creating a civic heart that promoted order, healing, and knowledge.
Finally, his walk led him to the Eastern edge of the settlement, where a gate stood open, facing the river.
The docks were a hive of potential activity, with several flat-bottomed boats already tied up.
Walking back, the bathhouse was situated conveniently nearby, using the river for its needs.
He could see the logic.
The gate here was for trade and travel, the lifeblood of the community.
Standing there, at the confluence of the river road and the main street leading to his door, Lucien finally understood the artifact's full design.
Lucien nodded in approval since he couldn't have done it better himself before he made his way to the main gate.
A trail of freshly packed earth led to the main gate, where he finally came to a stop. There, he waited.
It didn't take long.
Out past the treeline, a slow-moving mass of people appeared. Men, women, children, carts weighed down with food and baskets of fruit, even animals trudging behind.