Raze stood atop the central watchtower of Springriver Manor as she scanned the bustling grounds below.
The sun hadn't risen yet, but it could be seen how the manor, or the shelter, had changed over the past week.
Ever since the evacuation of Silver Mine Camp, nearly two thousand survivors had been relocated here. The outer wall, once a simple buffer zone with few structures around, was now a sea of tents, temporary shelters, and mobile workstations.
Smoke rose from the field forges as she could hear the clatter of hammers echoing from makeshift carpentry stations. And everywhere she looked, people were moving with purpose.
Thankfully, housing hadn't become a crisis.
