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image [https://i.imgur.com/YvYLzA8.jpg]
Nearly any man can stand adversity. If you want to test a man’s character, give him power.
— Horatio Alger Jr.
From Abraham Lincoln, The Backwoods Boy
Strategies amount to little more than short-term belief systems. They’re fantasies, apt to collapse whenever conditions change. Charitybelle, Fabulosa, and I had climbed a ladder of expectations whose every rung promised adventure and fun. We’d taken our future for granted.
Checking the number of contestants extinguished two hopes. It confirmed my girlfriend’s exit from the game and Winterbyte’s survival of the mountain’s treacherous descent. She hadn’t tripped and fallen in her escape. The player count dropped to 34, meaning only Charitybelle left the beta test.
I had girlfriends before, but none I’d trusted or known so well. Crawling down from the mountain’s peak after sunset, I felt emptier than the nest wherein I retrieved the griffon chick.
My sense of purpose in The Great RPG Contest shifted from winning to enjoying the experience with Charitybelle. Without her, playing The Book of Dungeons felt forced. I lost my grounding in the game and needed to find my passion again. Right now, the future felt barren.
The feeling reminded me of the famous Nietzsche quote—When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you. It seems to me Nietzsche described a gut check. We learn about ourselves when we’re at the end of our rope. With nothing to look forward to, with no worldly tethers, we realize our potential and what we really want out of life. We learn about ourselves.
The impulse to save the griffon may have been a subconscious cue to press on. I might feel numb and distant, but I’d get over it. As I wove downward between rocks to Fabulosa, I cradled the griffon and focused on not slipping in the dark. Returning from the summit, I didn’t know what to say. Neither of us did, so we said nothing.
Nursing a beaked fluff ball back to health seemed easier than running a settlement. Not knowing what to say to Fabulosa amounted to just the tip of the iceberg of uncertainty.
I didn’t feel up to being governor of Hawkhurst.
As a solitary type, I didn’t cotton to authority figures. Nurturing a community wasn’t something I wanted to do. Back in Atlantic City, I had no strong family connections and made few friends at school. I avoided organizations. Being responsible for everyone’s well-being felt like a burden, an obligation.
Effective leaders didn’t think that way. I’m suspicious and don’t spend my free time around others. I’d become friends with the gang in Belden after they forced themselves into my life.
Charitybelle promoted Yula to an officer only after seeing the orc huntress eating alone. She recognized Greenie felt comfortable with formalities. She became the perfect busybody—proactive and protective of her people. In the end, she saved Fabulosa at the cost of her undoing.
Loners like me possessed no such social consciousness. I wasn’t a leader, and every step toward Hawkhurst felt closer to ruining her legacy. But I wouldn’t give up without trying. I might be a poor substitute, but enough determination might erode some of my inadequacies.
Knowing that life in Miros amounted to little more than a computer game undermined my urge to grieve. Charitybelle remained alive and well in Southern California and answered to a different name somewhere on the other side of reality. She’s probably gobbling down an open-faced turkey sandwich or macaroni and cheese, surrounded by nurses and game techs. But why mourn someone giving post-game interviews? She was perfectly safe, and I should focus on winning the game. After the contest, we’ll reconnect and laugh on the reality show’s recap episode.
I had more than a sleeping griffon Familiar to comfort me. When I reached Fabulosa, we held each other. She already knew how it felt to lose friends. Like a big sister, we teased each other but always supported each other in times of need.
Neither of us could find Charitybelle’s core on the rocky ramp. Whether the stone crushed it or tossed it aside, I couldn’t say. We spoke little on our return to Hawkhurst.
Fabulosa’s gaming prowess came wrapped in a healthy dose of pride. I couldn’t even imagine the survivor’s guilt from being saved by a friend’s sacrifice.
Back at Hawkhurst, we checked in on each other and offered support. I gave Fabulosa lieutenant governor status in the settlement. If I died somewhere along the line, I wanted to ensure she had control of the town’s decisions.
As elders, Ally and I could give blessings. When we built a temple, I could give myself and Fabulosa Holy Smoke since my gubernatorial status made me an elder at the idol’s activation. If the town fell under attack in my absence, Ally could give Glowing Coals to anyone else to bolster the town’s defense.
Ally guessed what happened when she saw Charitybelle’s omission from the settlement’s interface. “I’m sorry about the dour news. She was a sound lass, she was. We’ll see to it she gets a stone—right next to our Brodie overlooking Otter Loch. Ye lean on me for the nonce, for anything at all.”
“Thank you, Ally. I’ll join her again in the afterlife one day. I’ll take some time off, but will be available for officer meetings and whatnot.”
Ally gave a sympathetic smile and let the matter pass.
“There has been a wee comfort in the shadow of our Charitybelle’s departure. We’ve new additions to the settlement! Wee ones. Freya and Janneth gave birth.”
“They got pregnant?”
Ally clasped her hands together. “They carried for nay more than three days. Both lads.”
Forren’s already worked her magic. I felt like the first good news since we returned from the dungeon. “Can you take me to them? I should congratulate them.”
“Oh! Ye’d have no idea what that would mean. I’ll take them to you straight away.”
I congratulated the new mothers with due enthusiasm. I planned to take a few weeks off to relax and reset my bearings, but little things like this pulled me back into the role of governor.
At first, everyone in town tiptoed around me until I reassured everyone with the lie that I felt okay. Soon, people returned to arguing and joking, although steering clear of it became one of leadership’s perks.
Not everything around town felt gloomy. Dino Marcello de Piane became Fabulosa’s new romantic interest. Love perfumed the atmosphere, and everyone enjoyed the gossip.
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Dino arrived uninvited with the battle college’s creation. Though a citizen, he couldn’t leave the training facility, much to my relief. I planned to make peace with him when I settled into a routine. With Charitybelle gone, I wouldn’t be overly sensitive to his pretentious mannerisms, but I didn’t want to risk him pressing my buttons until I held my emotions in check.
Greenie amounted to the only citizen I consoled about Charitybelle’s passing. The two had been close, and he deserved special consideration. He accepted my condolences with the stoic grace of an Edwardian butler, but I could tell the loss of his engineering partner shook him.
Greenie still addressed me formally, but he spoke softer than usual—his way of showing grief. “Sir, I am sorry for your loss. I shall be at hand to discuss our settlement’s progress.”
“Thanks, buddy. I’m going to take a little breather, and if you want to take some time off, I’ll understand.”
“Thank you, Governor. You are too kind.”
I waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t continue, although he looked uncomfortable. Neither Yula nor Greenie wore their heart on their sleeve for different reasons, making them hard to read. I did not know what they thought of me. The goblin seemed ready to talk about business, perhaps I could open the conversation by focusing on our town’s matters.
I grudgingly studied our settlement’s morale.
Morale
35 percent (alarmed)
Factor Events
100 percent
Factor Security
90 percent
Factor Culture
57 percent
Factor Health
71 percent
After taking a hit by the unexpected leadership change, our morale rating returned to an unencouraging 35 percent. The town’s enthusiasm might be poor, but the hit would be temporary. We wouldn’t need to inflate it artificially with feasts to get anything built unless something else dire happened.
At least the work crew’s building skills made up for our low morale.
Efficiency
71 percent
Factor Core Bonus
140 percent
Factor Construction Skill
144 percent
Factor Morale
35 percent
A 35 morale left much room for improvement, but I could live with a building efficiency of 71 percent. Once we improved our culture, we’d see better morale and faster build times. We needed a brewery for a better culture rating. Ally assured me it counted as a tier 3 building, which meant we needed a manor to unlock it.
I became keen to build a manor since it included private quarters for officeholders, but this wasn’t the time to be greedy. “What do you think we should build next? A storehouse?”
The goblin relaxed. “Murdina Aleswallow applauds the roomier accommodations, but more horses and a cart of supplies demand indoor protection.”
The work crew finished our second barn when Fabulosa and I returned. It gave us enough storage space for our equipment and made room for the sheep and torodons.
I agreed and queued a third barn for our settlement.
Building Status
Barn
Remaining Build Time
Efficiency
Workers
7.1 days
71 percent
27
After I refreshed myself with our situation, I addressed the matter at hand. “After our third barn, I would like to prioritize a storehouse. Do you see any other pressing needs?”
Greenie shook his head. “It’s difficult to say, Governor. It has been a few days since you’ve been gone, and I haven’t spoken to Ally and Iris about our priorities. Perhaps we should hold a transition meeting with our officer staff—including the new lieutenant governor.”
I sighed at Greenie’s return to using formal titles. Backing him away from addressing me as Lieutenant Governor worked for a while, but without Charitybelle, I lacked the heart to argue anymore. Perhaps reminders that people depended on me would help me adjust to the role. Besides, I needed all the credibility I could muster.
“I guess that’s something we should do, but let’s try to keep it short. Maybe we can meet at one of the empty tables in the town hall. It’ll be less ominous than a private location.”
Greenie agreed and fetched Ally and Yula. Even though Iris busied herself in constructing a guildhall, we sent for her.
Yula sat cross-armed while everyone exchanged condolences, changing the meeting’s tone after everyone said their piece. “Zee salting of cheeks ees over, yes? Now we get revenge.”
Fabulosa and I nodded in agreement, but I held up a hand to stave off the conversation. This wasn’t the time for offensive planning—we needed to monitor damage control. I turned the discussion toward civic matters. “Greenie pointed out that leadership changes make things difficult. I guess we can thank him for suggesting we get together.”
Greenie nodded but remained silent.
“I want to welcome Fab as our lieutenant governor.” Everyone gave solemn nods as a show of support.
Fabulosa gave a thin smile. “Thank you, kindly, everybody.”
“Fab, you can decide how involved you want to be. I assume you’re still working with Yula on scouting? Is that still the case, or is there something else you want to do?”
“I’m easing off scouting. I’ve been training with Bernard and Blane Silverview.”
Ally interjected and gave Fabulosa a wink. “And Dino.”
Fabulosa blushed, suppressing a grin. “You hush, now. And I’ve also been talking to Rory about getting better equipment, and he’s fixing to make better arms for everyone one day. I asked if I could help and maybe raise my blacksmith skill. He agreed to help me when he’s not so busy.”
This change of subject somewhat surprised me. “You’re doing a trade skill now?”
Ally nodded in approval. “It would be a pure delight to see our own L.T. pounding metal. You’ll learn from the best, lass, though he might try your patience. You’ll be no haughty officer by his eye.”
Fabulosa blushed again. “Oh, I know. I learned Rory’s in charge from the get-go. Besides, he’s so busy it’ll be a while before he has time to train me.
I waited for the smiles to wane. “Well, that settles that. Next, we’ll need a quick status update from the north. Iris, you’re not an officer, but your guild is still busy building. Is everything all right up by the forest?”
Iris nodded. “Yes, sir. Yula is rotating my people on patrols. Things are secure. Otherwise, we’re busy chopping wood.” She looked at Yula for confirmation.
“Eet ees quiet. No varg or goblin sign. Meester Lloyd ees in tower and dwarf brothers train hard.”
Hearing that Bernard and Blane Silverview had already taken advantage of Dino’s expertise somewhat lightened my mood.
Iris lowered her gaze. “Our chief concern is food. We’re thin on calories, and it slows our progress.”
Ally nodded at this. “Veggies and meat can only carry ye so far. Rocky says he’s already stretching our flour. Some sacks from Grayton spoiled in the last rain. Leaky barns are no place for storing food, so Rocky serves crumbs instead of slices.”
I gave a controlled sigh at the sound of lacking resources. We’d just made a trip to Grayton and fulfilled everyone’s wish list, but the problems never seemed to end. “I already talked to Greenie about a storehouse for our next structure.”
Ally cocked her head. “Any chance of slapping a mill into the queue? Forren’s been growing our grain to a decent size. Come harvest, we’ll need one. It wouldn’t do to run out of bread.”
Iris nodded. “A mill might bolster our security rating. Soldiers fight well on a full stomach.”
Aside from tightened jaw muscles, none of my body language projected frustration. Without a storehouse, I needed to parcel the town’s food stores from the void bag for however long I expected to be away. This required planning a logistics meeting that worked with Rocky, Greenie, and Ally’s schedule. The void bag still held too many ingredients that spoiled at different rates. If I returned late, the town had to scavenge for sustenance, which wrecked morale. Not having a storehouse tethered me to Hawkhurst and curtailed walkabout options.
I lowered my head. “A mill makes sense. We’ll bump the storehouse. I wasn’t going anywhere anyway. Is there anything else we need to build?”
We adjourned the meeting with nothing left to add, and everyone returned to their daily routines. I didn’t belong anywhere, so I remained seated, and judging by the quick dispersal, I expected no one to pester me with minutiae. Anyone who could read the room knew when someone needed to be left alone. I would get over losing Charitybelle’s company in time. We signed up for a battle royale, but I needed time off to depressurize.
Things quieted when the officers left, despite the town hall’s activity. A few breakfast stragglers lingered to prioritize tailoring tasks. Greenie returned to his corner and drafted blueprints. Rocky and Mrs. Berling cleaned up the breakfast mess and lost themselves in preparations for the evening meal.
Watching townsfolk perform their civic duties failed to ground my thoughts, which dwelled a hundred miles away, deep in kobold country. Winning The Great RPG Contest wasn’t my only purpose, and I mentally added another goal to our town’s agenda. Charitybelle midwifed Hawkhurst into existence, and it seemed fitting to use it as a resource toward knocking Winterbyte out of the game.