Robert had slept through the night. It hadn’t made up for the last few days, but it was a first step. And he found himself waking up, eagerly as he remembered they’d completed a quest. If it was as well rewarded as the last, he might be able to get Rawlins to Level 3, and maybe even get several others to Level 2 and see what their classes gained at that level. Indeed, there was a box in front of his face as soon as he awoke.
Quest Complete! You’ve completed the quest: Remove the Threat in the Lower Level of the Mesa. Reward: 1 Random Reward Box (Regular Tier), Recipe: Mushroom Stew, Recipe: Rat Leather Armor, and 1 Ever Burning Torch!
And, indeed, a torch glowing brightly, flames leaping around its head dropped in his bedroll as did two small pieces of paper. Robert instantly tried to smother the fire in his blankets, which did not work, but after a brief moment of squealing that brought in another soldier, he realized it was not burning him, pulled it out blushing from underneath his sheets, passed it to the guard and dismissed him to deliver that to Thomas, carefully ignoring the other man’s sniggering at his half-dressed state and panic. He brought up the quest screen and found the information for the completed quest, though he spotted several more boxes that had gone from black to blue.
Remove the Threat in the Lower Level of the Mesa (Total Monster CR: 8.25) SUCCEEDED Reward: 1 Random Reward Box (Regular Tier)
Additional Objectives:
Minimize damage to mushroom farms. SUCCEEDED Reward: Recipe: Mushroom Stew!
Tame the Threat. IN PROGRESS
Destroy the Threat. IN PROGRESS
Expel the Threat. IN PROGRESS
Preserve Giant Rats. SUCCEEDED Reward: Recipe: Rat Leather Armor!
Secure entrance to the Underdark. SUCCEEDED Reward: 1 Ever Burning Torch (torch with [Continual Flame] cast upon it).
Robert did not, as a general rule, swear. But it was a close run thing when he realized, belatedly, that the quest was treating the baby as part of the threat and withholding rewards until they either murdered them, expelled them, or ‘tamed’ them. That was...these boxes were definitely not to be trusted.
He bent over and picked up the recipes. They were useless. Sure, they included a list of required ingredients and that the stew would ‘allow regaining an additional 1d8 hit points if consumed over a short rest’ and the armor would ‘function as +1 leather armor,’ but though Robert was no cook, or tanner, he knew that you needed more than just a list of ingredients! He pocketed them to be turned over to Thomas when he ran into the man. With that done, he pulled back and looked at the new blue boxes.
Deal with the spider threat (Total Monster CR: 100-200)
Additional Objectives:
Destroy all nests
Discover the cause of the spiders’ domain expansion
Tame the spiders
Destroy the Spider Queen
Well, that was a really, really high ‘CR’ whatever that was. Much higher than any of the others...though the quest for the Storm Claws had been 10, while the one for the two-headed giants was only 8.25, but significantly harder and more dangerous, but there had been many more Storm Claws...perhaps it simply meant there were many spiders, not that the quest was actually ten to twenty times harder?
Regardless, the first step there was to figure out if they needed to deal with it at all. He’d check with Merriman on food supply. And he’d need to know if Rawlins could make additional ammunition, if not, they’d need to save it, not spend it attacking vast numbers of spiders. And this business about a spider queen, or taming spiders was fairly terrifying.
He moved on to the next quest.
Conquer the Hilltop (Total Monster CR: 6)
Additional Objectives:
Kill the Galeb Duhr
Deconsecrate the hilltop
Consecrate the hilltop to your God
What?
Why would he do anything like that? It was absurd.
Retrieve the glowworms (Total Monster CR: 3)
Additional Objectives:
Kill Snapper.
Sneak past Snapper.
Negotiate with Snapper.
Okay, this was a more reasonable one. They didn’t desperately need the glowworms, but bear was good eating and the spell component would be useful for the [Dancing Lights] cantrip, which was a moveable light, unlike the [Light] one. Being able to send it ahead and maneuver it at will, even if only within 120 feet of the caster would be significantly more efficient in underground areas. He might put a squad on it. And seeing that a bear had a ‘CR’ of 3 made him feel significantly better about the spiders and other monsters in the area.
He ran into Simpkins on the way to Thomas, and got an updated list of everyone’s EXP. He had two 100 EXP boxes left and, conveniently two had 202 EXP, three others had 185, so he could level up one of 185, or both 202. One of the 185 was a Cleric, another was Druid and the third was a Wizard. The two 202 EXP were a Fighter and Rogue.
After a moment, he decided to hold off and see if Rawlins could create ammunition and how much it cost. He ran into Thomas, who was a bit overwhelmed between designing the village, building things, organizing things and handling all the questions about spellcasting. After a moment, Robert asked about taking the spellcasting issues off his plate and Thomas reacted with gratitude rather than shame, so Robert dumped that mess in Cabot’s hands, along with the random pieces of paper and moved on to find Rawlins.
A quick look at the exhausted, food-stained officer who was attempting to feed his giant, two-headed baby, each of which controlled one hand that kept snatching food from the other mouth and cramming it into its own, and Robert decided to start with Merriman. Their food supply situation was not good, but also wasn’t desperate. Yet. He was coordinating with Varrarg and the goblins did have excess food, due to their heavy casualties, but he was unsure how to pay for it. The Settled Feet used a barter arrangement, but at the moment the 54th was rather short on things they could actually trade...which just went to prove that Robert needed to try to get a government set up which could properly pay them...or at least give them food and supplies.
Now, as they had recovered mistletoe, and had 7 Druids, each with two spell slots, who could cast [Goodberry] which summoned 10 berries, each of which could feed one person for one day, though could feed up to 140 people per day that way, if they had to (even without considering Sharts). And they would (and were) somewhat, but soldiers would not be pleased with a meal consisting of one berry a day and it would limit what else the Druids could do.
Those were solvable problems, more concerning was that depending on them would mean that if they got sick, or died, they’d be helpless. It was the same reason why, despite his hopes for a magical solution, he wasn’t stopping or slowing work on the saltpeter fields, or the sawmill, or the regular fields. They needed multiple sources, since they weren’t connected to any broader trade networks which could let them buy their way out of any failures.
Well, except for the Settled Feet. Merriman did confirm that the Settled Feet who owned the salt supply would (and could) provide salt for salting meat, in exchange for half the salted meat. That felt high, but since without it, they’d have to try to smoke meat to preserve it, it was reasonable enough. And the forest seemed very full of game.
And, after waxing poetic about Miss Silene until Robert glared at him, he reported that Silene knew where to find most of the plants they could reasonably expect to find in the forest. Mushrooms, herbs, berries and many other vegetables, but obviously no standard crops, though some wild rice and grains might be possible. But he was seeking permission to carry out a foraging operation with the dryad’s assistance. That provided an excuse for Robert to stop by the newly ‘leveled’ and rested artificer and get him to make an Alchemist’s Jug and put Merriman to work on finding/creating two stones which could be used as Sending Stones. As soon as that was done, he’d be able to move out. With that motivation, he moved out quickly to find what he needed.
Robert couldn’t delay anymore and ruthlessly grabbed up the nearest off-duty soldier, then two more and assigned them to assist Rawlins and get the man working. Three soldiers were just about able to control and feed one baby (or two babies, he really needed to know how they were treating that, for his own peace of mind, if nothing else), which freed Rawlins. The man was eager to jump into it, but Robert forced some food and tea on him before asking him to try to make 10 pieces of ammunition, including all three parts. Robert laid out 100 gold pieces from their store.Rawlins focused and his hands and lips began to move, in a strangely hypnotic way.
Robert looked away from it, glanced back at his own paperwork, there was something he’d missed...because he’d been so exhausted and others didn’t have the full picture. One of the men Corporal Braugher had 10 EXP, but he hadn’t been involved in any of the combat. He was one of the men who’d been here first...and they’d hunted. They said they killed a deer, or something. Could you really get EXP by hunting? Or...was it just the killing which did it? He knew Sharts had gotten EXP for sniping an orc...there was an easy way to test it, either hunting themselves, or, perhaps one of the giant rats needed to be slaughtered? If so, having one of their men do it would be an easy test. He assigned Trip to ask about it and if it was needed, have the Cleric who had 185 EXP do it. If they could get him over 200, he’d be able to split the difference.
With that done, he spent the rest of the hour resolving disagreements about resources and timing of various needs, especially of the magic axe, as it apparently made cutting wood much easier and there were disputes between the men cutting down trees and the ones limbing the trees, cutting firewood and shaping the wood needed for the sawmill. In the end, the sawmill would make everything else far more efficient, so Robert went with that one.
Rawlins finished his ritual and ten bullets, ten cartridges, and ten percussion caps appeared. And 3 gold pieces vanished. At that exchange rate, they could make more than 2500 additional shots with the gold coins they currently had. Whether they could use other coins and what the conversion rates were, he wasn’t sure, but that could be tested later. For now, the next step was to figure how long a ‘short rest’ was...and whether Rawlins could engage in child care while doing it. They’d give him up to four hours. If it wasn’t working, then they’d try it without the childcare.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As they waited, the crudely carved stones worked, taking the enchantment easily and Merriman headed out with one, while Robert held onto the other. By the end of the day they had visited a number of sites and were transplanting numerous plants into the areas around the fields which were being prepared for the handful of crops they’d been able to salvage from their supplies.
More crucially, they’d discovered a ‘short rest’ was one hour and could include childcare. The next few cycles got costs on other items. A rifle cost 33 gold pieces. A pistol 46 gold pieces. Pistol ammunition also cost 3 gold pieces. Finally, Rawlins asked about creating something else, as apparently the two heads slept separately...and woke up separately and then woke one another. So he was looking to make some sort of wearable earplugs and had come up with a desperate design to allow him some sleep. Robert did not suggest wearing them himself, as he did not think that would be taken well. The band would be metal to meet the requirements of Artisan’s Blessing, then heavy fur, like standard earmuffs, but with a core of metal welded to the band. Robert was uncertain it would work, but it seemed worth the risk and only ended up costing 2 gold pieces, one for each set. The man also ended up making a number of clouts with metal buttons (4 gold pieces) and singing the praises of Cabot and the other spellcasters with [Prestidigitation], who could clean them (or Rawlins’ own uniform) with a literal snap of his fingers, which apparently made handling infants easier.
That was rather more than Robert wanted to know. Though some stupid part of him wondered if it was possible Annie was pregnant. He doubted it, they’d only had a little time together, and it had been months ago, but mail could be delayed and he knew it took some time to know if you were pregnant...that thought was quite irrelevant. He’d sent her a letter before the assault, she would know what he’d done and why and he would simply have to hope and pray she was all right.
Over the next day, by making more ammunition, they learned that the skill would take other coins and that the silver-to-gold ratio was 10-to-1, and the copper to gold ratio was 100-to-1. Which was useful information...if somewhat unnatural. Robert was no expert, but he knew that there had been a whole thing about the value of silver versus gold and whether the ratio should be 15 or 16 to 1. The only currencies which neatly divided like that were those based on something manmade. A dollar could be divided into cents nice and evenly, but those didn’t line up with any round weights in silver or gold...but perhaps things were different here?
Regardless, at those costs, they could equip a number of goblins with pistols...if they were willing to join and learn, though uniforms would be costly as well, but he’d seen how much uniforms meant to men… besides what could they offer the goblins? And was that even wise? Frankly, they needed more civilians more than they needed more soldiers.
Again, what he needed to do was not be in charge of that question. Recruitment was a government decision, not a military one. But for that, they needed to gather everyone...and did everyone include their new allies? It basically had to, otherwise they didn’t have any civilians, which seemed like a recipe for problems. The other problem of course was that whatever government they instituted would have no resources. Besides the goblins not using money, there was no one to trade with and therefore no trade to put tariffs on. Excise taxes were also authorized and he knew other nations used income taxes...but nothing was being sold, it was all barter and no one had any income, or coinage (except him) it was all barter...he hadn’t realized how much he’d depended on other systems to provide support and structure until they all vanished.
To summon everyone here they’d need their defenses complete, someone to watch the field...Silene was the obvious choice, but without another American present, any new arrival, fresh from the surgery tent, or rebel custody might not react well to a green woman. Oh...there was an answer after all, it was obvious once he considered it and what he needed to do and not do. Besides completing their defenses, they’d need a significant store of food and an area everyone could meet. A town hall, or church would be perfect, but was probably not achievable in the available time...if the weather was good, the top of the mesa had plenty of room and if it wasn’t...he’d need to ask Varrarg. But first, it was time for something he’d been putting off.
Retreating to his tent and bracing himself for it, he claimed his second ‘Random Reward Box.’ This time the music was a bit quieter and the spinning wheel spun slower, he thought, allowing him to catch a few more of the labeled sections. ‘Building material’ was interesting, ‘Building’ was even moreso, ‘Spell Scroll’ and ‘Spell Components’ were potentially useful and the symbol of a bottle called to a part of him he’d tried to ignore ever since he’d enlisted. Getting drunk while a student, especially a student abroad was fine, doing so under these circumstances would be inappropriate.
It landed on the bottle, which felt ominous, given what Robert had been thinking and how the boxes responded to his thoughts.
Select your potion(s): 1 Philter of Love, 1d4 Potions of Watchful Rest, 1d4 Potions of Climbing
As far back at the Greeks and Trojans, everyone knew that love magic always ended in tears, so that was right out. The other two...he didn’t know what either did. He had a good guess that a Potion of Climbing would make them better climbers, but he had no idea how you could have a Watchful Rest? Maybe it would make them wake up easier at any outside sounds? Or sleep with their eyes open? There were many possibilities…
In the end, he selected the climbing one, as he pictured needing to fight spiders which undoubtedly would crawl all over the place and all over everyone. The very thought of which sent shivers up and down his spine. A moment later, the spinning wheel was replaced with a single three-sided-pyramid shaped die rolling and landing—how would you figure out which of the three visible faces was the right one to look at? And each face had three numbers on it. How would he know which number was correct?
His vision zoomed in on the top of the pyramid, where all three faces showed the same number, 2. A moment later, two slim vials full of strangely layered liquid, which had multiple layers of brown and silver appeared in his hand. He only barely didn’t drop them as another box popped up.
Reward: Two (2) Potions of Climbing. These potions grant the imbiber a Climb Speed equal to their Movement Speed for one (1) hour.
Oh. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d thought such potions would grant permanent boosts, but he passed them and a description of their power over to Cabot. Robert was stuck holding the coinage for some reason, so he should spread stuff around so it didn’t look like he was hoarding.
As the day was ending food was being served (after having been purified by a spellcaster). A few men were playing instruments, others were singing, the artistry of both was enhanced by illusions, or shapes swirling in the fires, or food, as men took advantage of their new powers to either show off, or mess with their compatriots. Robert picked up some food for himself and was left alone. He spotted Varrarg lingering and listening and walked over to stand by the goblin.
A few words confirmed they did have a meeting place which could be used. She didn’t ask what it would be for. But he continued. “We have been able to make ammunition as well as weapons. Recruitment may be possible, but the question is...recruitment to what?’
She gave him a confused look, “I thought you were called the 54th Massachusetts?”
Robert frowned slightly. “Indeed, we are. Which meant we were the 54th regiment raised by the state of Massachusetts. But we aren’t in Massachusetts anymore. We’re somewhere new. And there will need to be a new state, a new colony, a new government for us to serve. We have to decide what that is.”
“Just let us know what you decide.”
“We is all adult citizens of the state. Whether that includes the Settled Feet is up to you.” He frowned slightly to himself...he’d forgotten Varrarg was a woman. They all looked basically the same, with no obvious sexual dimorphism. And Varrarg was clearly in charge of them. Perhaps it was different for goblins? His own mother had been a strong proponent of the Women’s Rights, but she certainly hadn’t been arguing to be treated the same as men and any man who treated her the same as he treated her husband would be brought up short by her tongue for his discourtesy...but the bigger question was how the men would take it...would they treat the goblins as different enough not to allow their own beliefs about the role of women to cause them not to listen, or participate if they did? Did he even know what their beliefs were? Well, in the end, this wasn’t his choice, that was the point.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused.
“I propose a community meeting, to decide what we are, and how we organize ourselves. Who should lead and what limits should be placed upon them.”
“Let us know what you decide,” she repeated herself.
“The decisions will be made by majority vote. If the Settled Feet wish to participate...they can choose to do so, unless they are voted out by the meeting.”
She blinked at him. “And how would you ‘vote’ on that?” the implication was clear.
“I will not be attending. I will call the meeting, then I and all the officers will withdraw.” He’d discussed it with the other officers. They all knew the stories about how politics had interfered with command in both the Mexican-American War and the War to Preserve the Union. The only way to avoid that was to keep them as separate as possible. “We will watch the field for any late arrivals, while the rest of you make these decisions. Our role as soldiers is to carry out the military policy of the state, not to make it and not to command its structure.”
She turned to face him directly. “What? This translation magic must not be working because that made no sense.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. What are you even talking about?”
“Civilian control of the military?”
“How could nonwarriors possibly control warriors?” she asked, clearly even more confused.
“That...was not what I said. I think we are not communicating clearly. Are you familiar with democracy as a concept?”
“Of course, the family heads voted on things whenever there was a problem for the entire clan.”
“Okay...that’s not democracy. Let me roll back. Democracy is when every adult” male, tax-paying, “citizen has a vote on decisions.”
“That...does not seem efficient.”
“Indeed, not, representative democracy is when they vote on individuals to make those decisions. Representative constitutional democracy is when they vote on individuals to make those decisions within the scope of powers and authorities imposed by the constitution. A military dictatorship is when the military rules for itself. In the United States, and I hope whatever is agreed upon here, the expectation is that the military is placed under the control of a civilian elected leader.”
She blinked, clearly pushed most of his blither aside and honed in on the key point. “But how would they maintain that control? If the warriors disagreed, they could just use force.”
“The usual means, besides the oath, is to limit the power of the military. A small standing military, with large local militias, who are, after all, voters, means that if the military tried to take over, there would be a check on them. For the moment...that will be difficult, but the obvious step, unless we get many more people, is to let most of the soldiers return to civilian life and perhaps join the militia. But that and the makeup of the militia and army are questions that will need to be sorted out at this assembly. Thomas is something of a student of governmental structures, as well as engineering ones. I’m sure he can provide additional insight.” It...hurt to step away from this. He wouldn’t claim to be a great scholar of government, but he had, of course, read the constitution of the United States and of Massachusetts and many of the debates surrounding their construction and amendment.
“Then shouldn’t you be there?”
“My voice would carry too much weight.”
“And mine wouldn’t?” she asked, pushing.
“Yours would not come with the implicit threat of violence, no. I will go along with whatever is voted, but you made this point not two days ago.”
She looked up at him with confusion, “You are...confusing me. You have Trip arrange the killing of one of our Giant Rats, so your strange ‘boxes’ can feed from the death...which is not an encouraging thing to ask, but then you plan to surrender command. You kill all the Storm Claws, then bury them with prayers for their wellbeing. What do you want?”
I want to be home. Was what he did not say. “I want to be what I am, a soldier and an officer. I do not want to be a chief, a president, or a dictator.” He’d tried his hand at study, at commerce and at philanthropy and he had despised them all. In every field you were at war with your fellows, even if they didn’t acknowledge it. In war, you were only at war with the enemy.
Mostly. He couldn’t help remembering the conflicts with the quartermaster back at Camp Meigs and his blackmail of General Harker. Both times he’d tried so hard to make the system work for him and in the end, he’d had to force the issue. And now he desperately wanted that system back...how pathetic.
Well, hopefully they’d build a better one this time.
She stared at him and he was pretty sure she was just confused. He shrugged. “A word of warning, back home, only men can vote, hold office, or serve in the military. How it works here...will be something you folks figure out.”
She blinked up at him, “You’re all male?” she asked in some confusion. Oh, right, they’d probably made the reverse set of assumptions he had initially…
“Yes,” he grabbed his food, and then paused. “When our predecessors were first preparing their own government, a great man wrote that. ‘Ambition must be made to counteract ambition...If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary. In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself.’ Good luck.” He said, before heading off to his tent to prepare the announcement for next week. Merriman and he tested the Sending Stones (which he really should have done before hand, rather than taking their effectiveness as read) and indeed, they worked. And Simpkins rewarded select men with a beer from the Alchemist’s Jug, which balanced out the usage of Goodberries to feed a good portion of the men. He had Simpkins prepare a team to deal with the bear and collect glowworms tomorrow, using the Sending Stone.
He circulated once through the camp, checking on the pickets on the earthworks and the guard post into the Underdark. Music and laughter (and the screams of a grumpy, two headed baby) echoed around the open space and Robert...went to bed to try to catch up on his sleep.