The walk back to camp was a little more nerve-wracking than Bo would’ve preferred. He wasn’t worried that the jackalopes would attack, but by the endless questioning from Jenny and Martin’s men. His friends masked their conversation behind concern over his captivity, but they couldn’t fool Bo. They wanted to know all about the jackalope warren: where it was, how many jackalopes lived inside, and what kind of defenses the murder bunnies maintained.
Bo walked a fine line between telling his friends enough to satisfy their curiosity without giving them enough information to find the Bloodwhisker’s camp and start a war Bo really didn’t need at the moment. It was harder than he’d imagined juggling those two competing needs, but he thought he managed it well enough. Maybe he would work out as a leader.
As the camp appeared on the horizon ahead of them, Bo let the others take the lead so he could gather his thoughts without being asked a dozen questions about the jackalopes every five minutes. He’d enjoyed a handful of minutes of peace when Jenny fell back to walk beside him. She kept glancing at Bo until he had no choice but to ask her what was on her mind.
“I just wanted to be sure we’re still good,” Jenny said. “I know I came on pretty strong back there. But the jackalopes killed Martin. We aren’t the only ones upset about his death. Plenty of folks back in camp will not be pleased to hear you made a deal with a pack of cowardly ambush artists.”
Bo let out a sigh, then shrugged. He could imagine the angry faces that would surround him once word got out about his pact with Bloodwhisker. He’d have to give the same speech to them that he’d delivered to Jenny and the men. Like it or not, he was in charge of the hex at the moment. He couldn’t always be the popular kid. Sometimes he’d have to make difficult choices for the good of folks who may not understand his reasoning. And there was nothing to gain by fueling a revenge war against the jackalopes who’d been victimized by the Crimson Forest. It was time to heal wounds, not make new ones.
“I know,” Bo said. “But I can handle people being upset over the choices I make. My hide’s pretty thick.”
Jenny nodded and took Bo’s hand. It was a simple, comforting gesture that meant the world to the pitmaster. She gave his fingers a squeeze, then pulled his knuckles up to her lips for a quick kiss. She gave Bo another one of those long, warm looks that made his heart swell until it pounded against his ribs.
“You’re a strong man, Bo,” she said. “Never forget that. Things will get hard now. People always want a leader, but they’re never happy with the one they get. You’re doing fine, no matter what they say.”
“Not even if “they” is you?” Bo asked with a grin.
“I may not always agree with you,” Jenny said, her expression sober, “and I will definitely tell you if I think you’re fucking up. But I will always have your back. Count on it.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Bo said.
***
“Thank the Nine that you returned,” Lydia said as Bo strode into the former casino’s cavern’s mouth. “I was beginning to worry we’d have to find a new champion.”
The monster’s words struck a nerve with Bo. “You think you could do that?”
As far as Bo knew, he was the only human champion in the area. The grunge elves probably had a champion of their own, but it was unlikely he or she would have any use for humans outside of turning them into slaves or food.
Most likely food. Grunge elves can summon serpents when needed, but they enjoy the taste of meat from sentient creatures. And I believe if Lydia could replace you, she would. While she can operate the community focus as part of her agreement with you, she cannot simply become a champion. I believe that is why she didn’t attempt a coup while you were gone.
Well, that was comforting.
Lydia waved away Bo’s question with a dismissive gesture from three of her four hands. The fourth one tapped the top of the community anchor.
“You need to top off the crypt currency to fuel this,” she said. “If you’d been gone much longer, it would have run dry. Then we’d have to pay a much steeper price for its gifts.”
Bo wasn’t sure what that meant, and when he saw Slick and Bev approaching from inside the former casino, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask a question that might have a grisly answer. Instead, he fed enough crypt coins into the smoker to keep it running for a few more days, then walked over to meet Slick. They shook hands, and it touched Bo that the older man looked a little misty around the eyes.
“You had us worried sick, boy,” Slick said sternly. “No more running off like that. Bev was about to come looking for you.”
The pitmaster chuckled and shook his head. “I didn’t exactly go by choice,” he said. “The good news is, I brought back another Expert deck and some community build tokens. We’re getting upgrades, boys and girls.”
Lydia clapped all four of her hands together in a complicated arrangement of limbs that made Bo wonder how she kept from tying her long limbs into knots. “Oh, good,” she said. “We can open a shrine to one of the Nine. It will benefit your community, I assure you.”
Frustration flared in Bo’s thoughts. He’d had this argument with Lydia before and thought she’d understood there’d be no shrine to anyone or anything in his community. He was about to tell her just that when he noted more folks had gathered in the entryway. The pitmaster took a deep breath and gathered his composure. There was no harm in hearing Lydia’s thoughts on the subject. She might even change his mind on the subject.
“I have an idea of the upgrades I want to make, but I’m open to hearing your advice,” Bo said. “What will spending a community build token on the Faith path buy us?”
Lydia rubbed her hands together and smiled at Bo. The expression was kind, he knew, but the number of sharp teeth it bared made Bo cross his fingers she’d never make it again.
“Faith is the most powerful of paths,” Lydia explained. “It forges a bond between your community and one of the Nine. This bond grows in power as you advance along this path, unlocking more prayers, miracles, and boons from whichever of the Nine you swear fealty to.”
Bo had no interest in swearing fealty to anyone or anything, but he held his tongue. This was important to Lydia, so he needed to hear her opinion on the subject.
“At the first level of this path,” Lydia continued, “you will unlock the Shrine. This allows you to turn a blank Expert deck into a Priest Expert deck. The shrine itself may enhance your community’s morale—”
“May?” Bo asked.
“There is no guarantee that you will see immediate results from a shrine’s construction,” Lydia explained. “Though powerful, the Faith path needs time to spread belief through your community.”
“Okay,” Bo said. He wasn’t happy about that idea at all. It made the shrine sound like it would slowly brainwash his people into following whichever of the Nine it represented. But he kept that opinion to himself. There was no call to get anyone riled up before he decided to build the shrine.
“Once you build a shrine and appoint a Priest, you will see the real benefits of the Faith path,” Lydia went on, warming to the subject. “Priests can pray to the Nine for wisdom, which may give them glimpses into the future. They may also ordain up to three acolytes who will improve the potency and accuracy of their prayers. Finally, the priest and his acolytes may pray to heal the wounded of their injuries.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The option to heal wounds sounded good, but Bo still wasn’t sold. The shrine would take four people—one Priest and three acolytes—out of the community’s labor or combat forces. While that didn’t seem like a big deal at the moment, Bo worried the shrine would become a church and then a temple, and those would require far larger staffs than he could afford to devote to their operation.
“Thank you for the information on the Faith path,” the pitmaster said. “Let’s talk about the Arcane path, now.”
Lydia tried, and failed, to hide her frown. She was still hung upon the Faith path, which worried Bo. There was something she wasn’t telling him about it, he was sure, but the pitmaster didn’t know how to get the information out of her without starting a fight. And the last thing he wanted at the moment was to argue with his advisor in front of the growing crowd of folks in the community’s entryway.
“Purchasing the first level on the Arcane upgrade path unlocks the Library and the Librarian expert deck,” Lydia explained. “This will allow you to add another expert to your community. The Librarian can use their abilities to determine which of your people is suitable to study the magical arts. The Librarian can also use the books at their disposal to perform basic research related to your hex and its immediate surroundings. Finally, the Librarian can use their abilities to discover augmentations that provide bonuses to weapons and armor.”
That all sounded very, very good to Bo. Gathering information about the grunge elves’ hex could give him an edge when it came time to go to war. And augmenting armor and weapons seemed like a no-brainer. This was a quick and easy way to upgrade their combat abilities. Even better, it would only take one person to manage the library, whereas the shrine needed four.
“The Arcane path sounds very useful,” Bo said. “What do we get for upgrading the Craft path from level one to level two?”
“That will require two community build tokens,” Lydia said. “Perhaps it would be best to unlock the Faith and Arcane paths to give you a broader base of power rather than focusing so heavily on the Craft path?”
She looked hopefully at Bo, her hands folded neatly in front of her. The monster looked so hopeful, Bo felt a twinge of pity for her. She really wanted that Faith upgrade.
And that is a good reason to be wary of opening that door.
“Let me hear about what the second level of the Craft path offers before I decide,” Bo said.
“As you wish. At the second level of the Craft path, the workshop’s size increases and its technology becomes more advanced,” Lydia began. “This allows the Craftsman to take on up to ten apprentices, each one of which can produce half of the work the Expert produces in the same time. A full complement of apprentices will quintuple the Craftsman’s output.”
Slick let out a long, low whistle at that. Bo agreed with the sentiment. Producing five times as many suits of armor or weapons in the same number of days would be a tremendous boon. They could equip every able-bodied man and woman in the place before they went to war.
“The workshop can also produce heavier armor and more efficient weapons,” Lydia continued. “These take longer to craft but offer better protection and can inflict more damage. And, finally, by working with the Librarian, the Craftsman can add magical augmentation to weapons and armor, making them even more effective.”
Bo realized he was starving and opened the smoker to scoop out some brisket. He stripped off one of its filthy pit gloves, realized the hand underneath wasn’t much cleaner, then shrugged. Eating without washing his hands was probably the least dangerous thing he’d do for the next year. The pitmaster had almost gotten sick of smoked meat when it was all he’d had to eat, but after going without food for more than a day, his appetite for protein had returned. As his friends and the monster watched him, Bo wolfed down one piping hot slice after another.
“I strongly recommend that you use one of your community build tokens to unlock the Faith path,” Lydia said. “It really will offer us more benefits than you realize.”
“Your advice is important to me,” Bo said and wiped the brisket juice from his fingers onto his apron. “But the benefits from the shrine seem very uncertain to me. And there’s the fact that we have to convince one of the Nine to help us out. What if whoever we build the shrine for keeps us waiting for weeks on end while we pray our little hearts out? We have problems all around us. There’re grunge elves on our border, and it won’t be long before they come looking for a fight. Who knows what they’ve developed while we’ve been dealing with demonic dog men, a missing roast beast, killer trees, rescuing gnomes, and the jackalope issue? Fighting the grunge elves will require better weapons and armor for our fighters. The Arcane and Craft paths will give us the gear we need.”
The monster scowled at Bo, crossed all her arms over her chest, and stamped her clawed foot in anger. The yellow slits of her eyes blazed red, something Bo hadn’t seen before. The monster still had some tricks up her sleeves.
“I’m here to advise you, Bo,” she said. “And my advice is to open a shrine. It won’t just give you access to the Nine. It will unlock a conduit to their followers. We could appeal for help to a broader audience than anyone else in your world. That might get us benefactors we couldn’t otherwise access.”
She has a point, but this is still a very uncertain benefit. It is possible no one cares about you or your struggles. The shrine has the least immediate benefit.
Bo agreed with Barbie, which always made him a little nervous, but he didn’t want to wound Lydia’s pride anymore than he already had. Sometimes a leader could make compromises, and this was one of them.
“We’re going with the Arcane and Craft path upgrades,” Bo said, and was immediately interrupted by Lydia.
“You are this hex’s champion,” she said. “Your decisions will guide us. But you must know I only have your best interests at heart. I know you’re opposed to establishing any sort of religion here. But the grunge elves do not share your qualms. They worship a dark force within the Nine. And I guarantee you that their goddess will not ignore their pleas for help. I only want you to give us the option to level that playing field.”
Bo appreciated Lydia’s unwillingness to back down. But he also wondered if there was something else behind her words. She was a monster, after all. She might convince Bo to raise a shrine to some powerful dark god who would benefit her more than him. But he couldn’t deny she made some good points.
“My decision on Arcane and Craft stands,” Bo said. “But our next upgrade, barring any urgent problems that would require another path, will be on the Faith path.”
For a moment, it appeared the monster would argue. But when her eyes met Bo’s, he felt a moment of understanding pass between them. One pair of her eyes flicked toward the crowd, while the other stayed fixed on Bo. He saw the faint shake of her horse-like head, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she straightened, clasped her hands in a complicated arrangement of spindly limbs, and nodded.
“As you wish,” she said. “I appreciate you taking the time to consider my advice, and I look forward to your next upgrade. Give me a moment to complete the upgrades.”
The horse-headed monster closed her eyes and hummed quietly to herself as she worked. Bo couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts passed through her mind. She’d neglected to mention the armor and weapon upgrades the first time she’d described the library’s benefits to him. Had she done it to push him toward the Faith path?
Bo didn’t know the answer to that, but he made a solemn promise to find out soon. He needed to understand Lydia’s loyalties before they became a problem. If she was the agent of some dark deity—or maybe a certain angry demon—Bo would have to neutralize any threat she presented.
And he had no idea how he’d do that, given that she was so many levels more advanced than anyone else in this hex.
“Your upgrades are complete,” Lydia said. “Do you know who you will assign as Librarian?”
Bo had given this some thought on the walk back to the former casino. He’d originally wanted to put one of the other pitmasters in that role, but had realized he needed to think bigger. Giving someone a deck was no longer a personal choice. That powerful of a gift had ramifications that could affect everyone. He realized as a good idea to use Expert decks to cement partnerships or start alliances. And after talking with Barbie during their walk, Bo had learned there were folks living in the cave with a natural aptitude for book learning and magic.
Which meant the deck should go to one of the gnomes. The little guys and gals had been through the wringer. Their heritage was dying out. They’d run into the Crimson Forest on their way to Earth, and now their leader was a hostage to the silver hounds for a few more days. Making a gnome the Librarian would strengthen their bonds to the community and make them more valuable.
Not to mention that Bo didn’t think the role of a bookworm was one the other pitmasters wanted. They were a more hands-on kind of folks, who’d rather get their hands dirty than flip pages while everyone else was busy fighting elves or chopping down trees.
The only question was, which gnome? Jizzdoogle was the obvious choice, but also the wrong one. Bo didn’t want to wait for him to get back before the Library got up and running. For another, the pitmaster intended to have the gnome leader giving him advice during the battle. He didn’t need the little guy dividing his attention. So that left…
“Ms. G, come on up,” Bo said.
The gnomes had gathered off to one side. They were small enough that standing with the rest of the crowd put them in danger of getting stomped. Ms. G didn’t move for a moment, but simply stared at Bo as if he might have meant someone else.
“Yes, you,” Bo said with a chuckle.
“Oh, oh, my,” the tiny woman said as she shuffled toward him. “This is quite an honor. I never expected—I mean, are you sure—because there are probably better—”
“No, no,” Bo said. “You’re my pick. Now come get your deck.”
The gnomes cheered, and their tinny cries were soon joined by deeper shouts from the rest of the casino’s residents. Bo handed off the deck with a bow toward the gnome, then applauded her along with everyone else. When the clapping finally died down, Bo cleared his throat.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s get to work!”