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The Book of Dungeons - A weak to strong litRPG epic
Chapter 21 A Problem with Neighbors

Chapter 21 A Problem with Neighbors

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When Sami and Jahid returned from Fort Krek, Iris summoned me to her guild house. At first, it disappointed me she hadn’t come to the manor to deliver it. What little I understood about administration, I knew enough that independent operators weren’t supposed to summon the governor. She hadn’t even contacted Ida. Val, one of their Fort Krek guard buddies, left the message on my desk while I trained, leaving me no way to reply.

The trip made me apprehensive. The summons seemed disrespectful, something I would have never expected from Iris.

Fabulosa and my perennial sidekick, Beaker, accompanied me to her guild house later that evening. My griffon made short flights nowadays, and Fabulosa tossed small chunks of talax ram meat into the air for him to catch. She aimed high to give Beaker time to track the projectile. He missed nearly every morsel, but she clapped whenever he caught one. “On the wing, Beaker! Good boy!”

The sound of beating wings and screeching heralded my arrival, and it came to me as no surprise that the guild house door opened before I could knock. Lloyd leaned against the doorway. “Ahoy, Cap’n! Me son expects you presently.” He cordially nodded to Fabulosa and my Familiar.

Fabulosa hugged him. “Hey, Lloyd. How’s the wind these days?”

Lloyd shook his head disapprovingly at the towering tree line. “Naught but eddies and whirlwinds to stir my whiskers. Leave it to the young’uns to build the guild house in the lee of the trees where a man cannot feel the kiss of a breeze.”

Fletcher appeared from around the corner. “Only my father could find fault with the cool summer shade. Let the governors pass, you old pirate.”

Fletcher escorted us into the guild house while Lloyd remained outside. We passed an empty dinner table and entered a private office. Jahid and Sami stood nearby, and the cramped room made me wonder why we weren’t using their dining area or, better still, the manor’s meeting table. I had to move aside to let Fletcher close the door behind us.

Iris slightly bowed when we entered. “Thank you, Governor, for coming up here. You’ll appreciate why I didn’t go to the manor when you hear our reports. I thought it better that Ida, Ally, and Greenie know nothing about what’s happening at Fort Krek. It’s your decision how big you want the circle.”

Sami’s or Jahid’s faces remained unreadable. They obediently stood at attention while their commander spoke.

Iris continued in her usual businesslike manner. “Fort Krek has been in a leadership crisis these past months. I would never speak ill of Commander Thaxter, certainly not to anyone outside the chain of command, but I owe Hawkhurst an honest report of Krek’s state of affairs.”

I inwardly sighed at the ominous preamble and prepared for the bad news.

“In short, the staff has lost confidence in the commander. There are rumors of ranting and sleepwalking, and some officers consider him unfit for duty, let alone for command. This past month, Commander Thaxter’s been under restraint, dividing the relieving officers about how best to proceed. Rami knows some soldiers who say he’s lucid, but there are so many rumors that it’s impossible to know what’s happening.”

Fabulosa squinted. “Could it be a coup of some sort?”

Iris shook her head and looked at Rami, who stepped forward and spoke. “The fort is on lockdown. I gained admittance because I’m an off-duty reserve and once bunked with the guards. They’re not letting civilians inside for fear that word might reach the marauding orcs. The staff can’t agree on how to operate, and no one trusts anyone. You see, sir—everyone is loyal to Thaxter, but his orders are irregular.”

I crossed my arms. “What makes people think he’s crazy?”

Rami looked at Iris before answering. “My friends at the gate say he wants to send sorties to the south instead of north.”

When she saw my confusion, Iris explained. “It makes no operational sense. I spent years at Fort Krek, and there’s nothing down there but thickets and swamps. They disassembled their mailbox, which explains why my letters haven’t received replies.”

“How long has this been going on? And why am I first hearing about this now?”

Iris shifted her posture uncomfortably—I’d never seen her conflicted before. “It’s unclear. And I confess, I have split loyalties. I cannot undermine confidence in Krek’s command, and wartime rumors are typically unfounded. I wouldn’t have believed it until Sami and Jahid returned with news of the fort on lockdown. Since the goblin wars, no post has held a higher reputation than Fort Krek. Thaxter and his staff are the most westward base on the Jarva River, and they’ve been stalwart against the orcs.”

Fletcher leaned toward us. “When Iris and I served, things weren’t as active—the enemy didn’t raid homesteads and travelers. The civilians outside the fort became prosperous. We had time for cultural events, festivals, and trade. But everyone’s armor is heavier these days.”

Iris exhaled audibly. “And that’s where the staff falters. It takes a decisive team to coordinate, prepare, and execute sorties. Without a coherent and vigilant strategy, the orcs could establish a foothold, which would not be good for Hawkhurst or Krek.”

I stepped forward. “What can we do?”

Iris held up her hand. “There’s nothing you can do, but I might help. I know the staff, and I’m the only senior officer outside their chain of command who could arbitrate. Regarding the orcs, our destinies are the same. Krek’s problems are our own. I’m taking Sami, Jahid, and Val to Fort Krek to suss out the situation. You’ll have Fletch and the rest of the guild take care of things while I’m gone.”

Greenie’s letters proved how he considered Hawkhurst’s independence paramount. He emphasized the importance of establishing contact with merchants in the East. The Sternways shouldn’t be the only ones in Hawkhurst with connections, so joining this trip made sense.

I shrugged. “Unless it gums up your mission, I’d like to tag along.”

Iris narrowed her eyes, considering the suggestion, and nodded slowly.

I turned to Fabulosa. “Are you up for a tour of the Eastern continent? It could be fun.” It had been months since Winterbyte’s last stand, and I hoped to have mended some trust. She hadn’t contributed to the discussion and usually acted keen to adventure.

Fabulosa only shrugged and nodded.

After leaving the guild house, I turned to Fabulosa. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you ready for a road trip?”

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“Yeah, I reckon, but I want to do more than diplomacy. I’m hankering for action.”

I laughed, trying to put a positive spin on the mission. “You probably won’t have to wait long. We always seem to do things the hard way.”

“We might face a swarm. I’m taking back Rainbow’s end from Blane. He won’t be happy about giving it up.”

“That’s fine. He has less exotic hand-me-downs to choose from.”

We harbored only minimal concerns about our trip. Hawkhurst patrols reported nothing worrisome. Errant dinosaurs occasionally traversed our borders, but nothing serious posed a threat. The town’s infrastructure seemed solid, and the work crew finished upgrading the third dock to a shipyard. When they finished another storehouse, their next project focused on a ferry—the keystone of The Inner Passage trade route. Lloyd and Greenie customized its design from the default plans, making something big enough to carry a caravan.

After Hawkhurst built its first ferry, my build orders included another barn, storehouse, and a pub and inn on both sides of the river. It would harm our reputation if big-city visitors from the East complained about rustic accommodations. Establishing a foothold on the far side of the river would take over a month, but I didn’t expect to return later than that.

Ida bore nothing but bad news. She got the jump on me because Beaker announced my arrival at the manor. Her droll, scratchy voice greeted me with problems as soon as I crossed the threshold.

“Rocky wants a meat grinder for his ward worm sausages. It’s been on your shopping list, but I promised to remind you since you forgot it on your trip to Arlington. I also received this letter after breakfast.”

“Umm, we were on the clock in Arlington. I didn’t have time to buy a meat grinder. Oh, forget it. What’s the letter? If it’s from Grayton, give it to Greenie.”

“Greenie isn’t his true name, so the mail system doesn’t recognize him. That’s why all mail is going through me—which is beyond my understanding because you’re the Governor. Shouldn’t this correspondence go to you?”

I couldn’t explain why I issued a standing order to keep my name and Fabulosa’s name out of circulation. After the update to The Great RPG Contest, any use of our names might alert enemy contestants to our whereabouts.

“What is the message? Can it wait until I return?”

“I suppose so. It’s a petition from someone in Grayton who wants to use our battle college. Someone named LabRat31. What do you want me to tell them?”

My back stiffened at the mention of another contestant. We’d seen his name listed in Crimson’s contest update. “Let me see that.”

Without looking up, Ida picked up the parchment and handed it over.

I snatched it from her and read it.

From LabRat31, sent 12 days ago in Tireas, Postal Box #4

To Ida, received 2.2 hours ago in Hawkhurst Postal Box #1

Subject Coordinates

Dear Ida or Greenie the goblin,

After escorting caravans for the wainwrights, I’ve learned your city has a battle college. I understand the person to contact is named Greenie, but the mail doesn’t recognize his name. One of Glenn Grene’s captains says Ida is his contact person in charge. Anyway, I heard your arena facilities are impressive, and I would like to train there. I’m coming from the north, but I understand there are no cross-continent caravans. I need your coordinates.

LabRat31

I resisted the urge to crumble the parchment into my fist. Labrat31 seemed presumptuous enough to be a gamer. I wondered if NPCs regarded all players as pushy. Instead of asking for permission—they assumed we’d roll out the red carpet.

Two more implications became clear. The training facility wasn’t a secret anymore. I erected the battle college in front of Glenn and Oscar, trying to impress them—this letter proved my success. The stunt had been a mistake. Now, two of the most well-connected business people in the West evangelized one of Hawkhurst’s marvels.

The battle college would be a magnet for contestants, something I wanted to avoid. I knew players would eventually find out long after we’d reached rank 30 in our combat skills, but I didn’t think the news would travel faster than caravans.

Ida gave me a curious look.

“Tell Mr. LabRat31 that a fire destroyed the battle college. Tell them it burned down, and there’s nothing left.” I nodded to emphasize the instruction.

Ida waited longer than I’d hoped to confirm my order. “If you say so.”

I sighed and explained myself. “I don’t want anyone outside of Hawkhurst using the battle college. It’s for civil defense.”

Ida poked holes in my logic. “Won’t foreigners see it when they cross through? Aren’t we trying to promote traffic?” She enunciated as if talking to a simpleton.

I couldn’t easily explain the difference between NPC merchants and adventure-seeking contestants, so I gave up. “Yeah, but—we’re promoting the trade route, not the arena.”

“If you say so.” Her tone simultaneously suggested she didn’t believe me but didn’t care enough to object. “Don’t forget the meat grinder—and Murdina’s sheepdog.”

After organizing my things and packing for our trip, I left before Ida could give me more headaches.

I told Fletcher, Yula, Greenie, and everyone involved with Hawkhurst’s security that the battle college stood off-limits to outsiders. With LabRat horning in on our training facility, I wanted the town alert over enemy contestants.

Dino couldn’t prevent noncitizens from forcing themselves into the arena since he couldn’t inflict damage. The game deemed attacks initiated inside the battle college to be duels, and anyone dueling stood immune to death—it counted as one of the arena’s key features. It allowed us to simulate combat without spellcasters using illusions to fake wounds and pain. Dino wasn’t allowed to leave the battle college—hence, all attacks on and from his person amounted to harmless duels.

As a perfect pugilist, Dino could disarm and humiliate uninvited guests, knocking around anyone bold enough to force their way into his domain. I’d been on the receiving end of his harmless demonstrations to know that he could make things unpleasant. He could make intruders wish they were dead.

With one canoe in use by the construction crew, it took several trips to cross everyone heading east to the other side of Otter Lake—but our new docks made leaving and entering the canoe easier.

Beaker’s eyes widened on the water, and I couldn’t tell if he felt more nervous about the canoe or the lake. He leaned from one side to the other, tipping the boat, too excited to heed my commands to relax and sit still in the middle.

As we paddled, I looked back at the western dock. Next to it, the new shipyard lay idle. Greenie and Lloyd hadn’t finished their ferry plans yet. Greenie wasn’t used to maritime designs, and Lloyd didn’t know how to draft and held impossibly high standards, so their collaboration moved slowly.

Our upcoming trip embodied an open agenda. Sure, we had diplomatic duties and shopping lists, but our schedule wasn’t as frantic as our trip to Arlington.

Iris would contribute most of the legwork in arbitrating a cooperative relationship with the Fort Krek staff. Greenie had assured me we should leave negotiations to her. The fort would be more agreeable to working with an ex-officer.

Fabulosa and I didn’t plan to stay at Fort Krek long. While Iris, Sami, Jahid, and Val immersed themselves in fort politics, we’d travel further downriver to assure merchants and regional officials that Hawkhurst’s Inner Passage worked. We also wanted to drum up interest in immigration. Increasing our population meant more settlement powers and more favor for Forren. Lastly, if it meant another adventure, we’d stick our noses into anyone’s business.

The six of us—and my griffon—canoed across Otter Lake to the eastern dock. We expected to ride back on a brand new ferry when we returned from our journey.

Aside from the hum of insects, the eastern dock stood quieter than the west. It looked out of place on the edge of the untamed wilderness. A few dwarves surveyed the area, and we let them do their work.

Fabulosa unceremoniously tossed her paddle into the canoe, climbed onto the dock, and began cutting her way through a swath of tall grass. She smiled and waved back after I finished pulling the canoes out of the water. “We’re back in the bush!”

Soon, all six of us busied ourselves with clearing a path wide enough for carts. The three guards traveled upfront and Iris hung back with us.

I tried to make conversation with Iris. “I’m surprised you aren’t with your troops.”

“If I’m with you, they’ll be able to talk amongst themselves freely.”

Fabulosa snorted. “No one relaxes when the boss is around.”

Did citizens think of me as their boss? I protected the town and made decisions, but did that make me their boss? Did I make others nervous? Should the governor hang back whenever citizens relaxed and had a good time, or did that come across as aloof? I wanted to buck the cliché of being lonely at the top, but shouldn’t I follow Iris’s example of giving her people space?

I dismissed these questions, wanting not to spoil a good hike with self-doubts.