Newborn Town bustled with life once again.
Bright red strips of cloth stretched from the tower of the Lord's Manor all the way to the town entrance. The coarse linen, soaked through with dye, snapped in the autumn wind, lending everything a festive air.
Every townsfolk wore a cheerful smile, radiating the deep sense of abundance that came with a full belly.
Even the air carried the scent of ale and roasted meat.
A few unfamiliar faces mingled with the crowd. They were "temporary workers" who had come from nearby villages.
A young man stared blankly at a child running past him. The child held several thin, golden, crispy slices between two fingers and ate them with crunch after crunch. Their rich aroma made the young man swallow involuntarily.
He knew they were a new snack made from sea-salt potatoes, something only families with merit points to spare could afford.
The newcomers looked enviously at the thick clothing worn by Newborn Town's residents and the rosy cheeks of the children chasing one another around.
The abundance they could only dream of back home seemed to be everywhere here.
With grunts of effort, an oak barrel filled with ale was carried through the crowd and into a newly renovated building.
A brand-new wooden sign hung above the doorway, its large, crooked letters written in charcoal: Brothers, Boar, and Ale.
The door stood open. Tumo stood behind the counter, wiping a wooden mug with a rag.
He stood perfectly straight. His back, once bent from years of labor, was now as upright as a spear.
He and his brothers had emerged as the biggest winners of the bumper sea-salt potato harvest. They had used their "first pot of sugar" to hire more workers than anyone else, then exchanged an enormous number of