Novels2Search

Chapter 32 Good Shooting

image [https://i.imgur.com/p2Q5You.jpg]

I would be lying if I claimed Hawkhurst’s boardwalks impressed me—no self-respecting son of Atlantic City would compare the two. But the boardwalk’s quick construction and immediate effect transformed the town overnight. While larger cities enjoyed cobblestone roads and Darton Rock’s hilly topography drained water so quickly that mud wasn’t an issue, our boardwalks gave it a sophistication our neighbors in Fort Krek and Basilborough didn’t possess. Conquering the mud instilled a sense of civic pride.

Its design called for no posts but flat anchoring stones supporting boards, rising only inches above the ground. The boardwalks measured only four feet across, not enough to service Hawkhurst’s beloved hand carts, which many citizens used to transport wares, tools, and belongings. Ally forbade carts from the boardwalks to reduce their wear and tear.

Its thick planks employed the same wooden pegs throughout the town, disappointingly minimizing the creaks one expected from boardwalks. Still, they felt pleasant to tread upon, and pedestrians had no difficulty passing oncoming traffic.

Maggie networked the camp, aligning paths like reverse sidewalks down the street with heavier traffic and carts on either side of the boardwalk. She ordained gravel and flagstone tiles whenever boardwalks crossed thoroughfares for hooves and wheels. Because of their economical consumption of materials, the boardwalk connected all the town’s hot spots from the motte and bailey, now serving as the town’s entrance, to Hawkhurst Rock, where mud wasn’t a problem. The route provided an axis from which the town grew. This stem branched to walkways leading to roundhouses, the barracks, the battle college, and the town hall. It connected utility buildings like the bakery and storehouses. It neglected only light traffic areas, like the farms and barns on the east side of town. There, mud wasn’t a problem.

No boardwalks extended beyond the earthen walls. Mud wasn’t an issue near the Sternway guild house and the outer support buildings along the city’s outer perimeter. After its completion, the construction crew began a clayworks.

At first, Beaker enjoyed watching me work outside, but after a few hours, he grew restless and squawked at me to do something else. Terrestrial magic held only so much appeal to griffons.

My pet occupied himself by popping Darkstep’s annoying Improved Eyes. Doggedly seeking them out became a game for him. After he found one, he performed flybys until I rewarded him. I tossed morsels of meat laced with his favorite spice high into the air, and he swerved to catch them before they landed. My Familiar embraced our game’s rules—Pop an Improved Eye, trumpet in triumph, and then fly to Apache for a treat. He took to the exercise with a hunter’s keen efficiency, sweeping across Hawkhurst Meadow several times daily.

Because the Improved Eyes appeared regularly, I knew Darkstep actively propagated them. Beaker tirelessly pursued the little spheres, and it amused me to regard my pet griffon as a significant source of annoyance to the peeping player. That’s right, Darkstep—you mess with our airspace, you get the beak!

After the palisade’s completion, I planned to top off my combat skills at the battle college. But with Dino already busy training townspeople, I instead offered to assist. It would be easier to command a militia heavily drilled in combat skills.

Yula assured me Little Arweald wasn’t more than a ten-day march from the Orga River. I grew anxious over not hearing from Uproar as weeks passed. Only his negligence in mentioning my letter in the group chat kept me from asking about it. Perhaps he had difficulty convincing the orcs that Gladius Cognitus was real.

The dialog in the chat group focused on out-of-game topics, like favorite shows and games. People listed what foods they missed the most. Some talked about work and school. Roadmachine and Kid Vicious discussed firearm technology and military weapon systems. Bircht and Duchess lamented how studying for the medical profession curbed their gaming hours and how long it took to get degrees.

Anyone watching replays of The Great RPG Contest might think contestants foolish for reaching out, but homesick players missed celebrity gossip, sports, and references to the outside world. To robotically ignore the chance to communicate with others belied an ignorance of The Book of Dungeon’s immersion. Even though I hated my life, I sympathized with their disconnect. In many ways, the game’s reality suffocated us.

As the weeks passed, a trickle of immigrants arrived with caravans, which arrived almost every other day. Most passed through after staying a night, but some joined our settlement. Because of our heightened alert, we sent newcomers to Dino, for the work crew already had plenty of laborers. We didn’t deter anyone who turned back, for Hawkhurst didn’t want anyone unwilling or unable to fight.

The boardwalks addressed the camp’s comfort rating. When we returned our comfort to 95 percent, our health rating bounced from sickly to vigorous. Completing the earthworks and palisade didn’t improve the security rating, but our 76 morale remained solid.

At one daily meeting, Ida asked me what I thought of attaching coefficients to tasks.

Runar and Levina worked quietly at their desks while Gage took notes at the conference table.

I confessed my ignorance. “I’m sorry, Ida. What do you mean?”

“Coefficients.” She repeated as if the word explained itself. “If working in the soap house is less desirable than the quarry, does it seem unfair that I make an hour in the soap house equal to one and a half hours to work crew labor? Once I open the sluice, there’s no shutting it.”

“Aren’t people happy with the current work-to-own program?”

“They are, but some jobs are more popular. Colliers work hardest, but they include washing as part of their duties, which seems reasonable since it’s one of the dirtiest jobs. But newer work crew members want the same, and I can’t give them that without shortening our workday.”

“Why don’t we just privatize the soap house?”

“We will, but it’s Hawkhurst property until someone works it off. Besides, the soap house isn’t the issue—it’s a group of grubbers from Jarva. They’re offering to clear tree stumps to expand the meadow, but they want a one-and-a-quarter-hour value for every hour worked. I’m tempted to accept their offer because grubbers are hard to find.”

“I assume grubbers clear tree stumps?”

Ida nodded. “If I make an exception for them, it turns every job into a balancing act.”

It sounded like a reasonable adjustment to me, but it also introduced another level of complexity into running a settlement. “It seems fairer than forcing people to do tasks they don’t want. I think you should do whatever makes your job simpler. Either way, it sounds like you’re gonna get headaches.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Ida smiled. “I think I’ll go with it. The grubbers are strong, and they know how to fight. If they stay, our population will remain at 302. I want to announce this at dinnertime.”

I checked the settlement interface and confirmed we’d surpassed the milestone of 300 population. But Forren’s followers remained suspiciously low, hovering at 104. “Is there something wrong with Forren that I don’t know? It seems odd that people aren’t buying into our patron deity.”

“That’s not unusual. People stick with their deities. Fort Tilbury has a war cult with a high conversion rate, but it causes more problems than it solves.”

“If more people converted, I could assign more blessed followers with Glowing Coals. We’ll need it for the town defense—it surprises me folks don’t convert simply out of self-interest.”

“We could make it a requirement to join the settlement. We are preparing for war.”

As someone raised under the principle of separating church and state, the idea of coercing citizens rankled me. Of all the bad ideas that have crossed humanity’s minds, none have wrought more havoc than theocracy.

Before I gave an opinion, Beaker landed on the manor window sill. His sudden appearance startled Levina, who squeaked in surprise.

“Beaker, you know better than to come through those windows. They’re too small for you. Just stay outside. Otherwise, you’ll make a mess.”

Levina and Renar hastily put away parchments in case my griffon ignored my instructions—as he often did.

I waved my arms to shoo him out. “Come on, turkeys aren’t allowed in the manor during work hours, you know that.”

Yula entered the manor, killing the train of thought.

Without preamble or formalities, the orc spoke. “Corporal Turan says Eren spots Redbones on the Orga’s west bank.”

I turned away from Beaker to face her. “That’s the emperor’s clan! And they’re across the river already?”

Yula raised her arm in a halting gesture. “Only his scouts. But they cross by Flattop. Ze column waits while zey build river crossing.”

The Orga spanned 200 yards across at Iremont. It would take a sizable force quite a while to cross. The river prevented them from bringing anything too heavy. If they wanted siege equipment, they’d have to manufacture it on-site. “How many are there?”

“Three cohorts. Eet ees all Redbone. Zis means he ees here.”

Yula didn’t need to explain the pronoun. She meant Emperor Veegor.

Though it relieved me to learn my gambit to draw the relic out of the Doublespines worked, fifteen hundred orcs far exceeded our highest estimate. Perhaps they knew more about our defenses than I hoped. Besieging forces needed numbers, so I couldn’t be surprised they’d brought more than a few hundred.

“Zey bring bugbear too.”

I guarded my expression while I processed the news. It would do no good to panic my noncombatant lieutenant governor if I appeared perturbed by the news. I winked at Runar, whose eyes opened as wide as golf balls. “I look forward to seeing one. Yula tells me they’re quite the fighters.”

“Zey are probably imperial guards. Zey won’t waste bugbear on frontline.”

“How long will it be before they arrive?”

“Eren says ze river slows zem. Maybe a week.’”

I spoke with as much casual confidence as I could muster. “Very well, then. That’s enough to set our affairs in order. Gage, please inform the Sternways to clear the caravan routes on both sides of the river. Tell them not to worry about the mulberry shipments. Tell her I promise they won’t spoil. We’ll have pastries for Spring Festival.” I turned to Levina. “You see, they ripen on the opposite side of the calendar in Susa, giving us a chance for mulberry sauce twice a year.”

Ida made a shooing gesture, and Gage left the manor.

“Levina, get Lloyd, Otto, or whoever helms our ferry to bring everyone on East Shore to the castle. They can use Sea Gate—it’ll be operational.”

Yula nodded in confirmation.

“And Renar—tell Ally to haul whatever wood they’ve harvested into the castle in case we need to repair our hoardings. I want a healthy supply at hand. And make sure she disassembles the lumber mill’s saw blades.”

“Yes, Guv!” Renar saluted before he left, looking less alarmed than when Yula spilled the big news.

I turned to Yula. “I assume we’re already mustering guards into full uniforms?”

“Eet ees process. First, we must permit return to homes. Zey remove valuables. Board up houses. Will be done day’s end.”

“Okay, I guess that’s reasonable. The harder we make it to destroy our structures, the less inclined the enemy will be to do so.”

Ida tidied around the manor. “We’ll need floor space for guests. The only valuable building in town is the battle college. I’d hate to see them destroy it.”

“I’d love to see them try.” The battle college’s green curves would almost certainly draw their curiosity. It stood nearly indestructible from the outside, and from the interior, our resident whoop-ass dispenser named Dino would preoccupy invaders as long as they dared.

Ida went upstairs. “I’m volunteering your apartment for the nursery. You’ve got that big, unused nest—perfect for little ones.”

I turned to Beaker, still perched on the windowsill. “You see? You lost us the whole room sleeping in my bed.”

My conversation with Ida about converting citizen to Forren reminded me I still hadn’t allocated the settlement’s accumulated 29,000 favor points. When I returned a month ago, blessing myself with Holy Smoke became my first action.

Power (blessing)

Holy Smoke (tier 3)

Prerequisites

Temple, Recipient must be a blessed follower of Forren, 1,000 favor must be spent for every other blessed follower of Forren

Cooldown

Once per day

Cast time

5 seconds

Description

Blessed follower may assume the form of smoke at will, materializing on altar 1 minute later. Must be within settlement boundaries to invoke.

Two thousand favor was cheap. Since the temple unlocked the new blessing, I would have given it to Yula, except she became Hawkhurst’s first citizen to refuse the deity.

Time froze as I assigned Glowing Coals to six more followers of Forren—Ally, Bernard Blane, Maggie, Rory, and Captain Jourdain. The blessing created a non-magical patch of ground hot enough to foil attackers at our walls. The investment of 27,000 favor meant it would be seven weeks before I could bestow another blessing.

When I closed the interface, a new game prompt appeared.

New campaign

Orc Siege

Description

Emperor Veegor leads 1512 armed orcs and 4 bugbears to Hawkhurst. Their numbers are enough to raze buildings. Repel the invaders before they destroy 50 percent of your town.

Morale

76% (upbeat)

Objectives

Defend Hawkhurst’s town imperial army

Reward

0 to 100 glory points

I had 222/500 glory points to reach the next command rank. With Applied Knowledge, I needed 80 glory to reach the third tier of promotions. Unfortunately, the likelihood of sweeping the orcs relied on my ability to assassinate the emperor. With the town tucked and snug behind our three walls, I could afford to sally forth and take my chances. I accepted the campaign and added everyone in town under my militia command. Closing the settlement interface sprang the world back to life.

I followed Yula outside the inn and summoned Jasper. I didn’t need him for mobility, but in times of crisis, making myself visible would help settle people’s fears. “Are you ready to chop the head off the snake?”

Yula’s gaze swept from Sea Gate to the barbican, admiring each tower along the walls. She gave a single curt nod. “Now we are ready.”

As we walked through the gatehouse toward town, Yula recounted Corporal Turan’s report. “Eren says column marches south along the west bank.”

“They’re at Iremont?”

Yula nodded. “Zey cross een shadow of Flattop.”

“Iremont’s steep hillside might be a good place to see them. Do you think we can get up there before their scouts?”

Yula shrugged. “Maybe so, but we kill eizer way, no?”

I grinned at her cavalier attitude. “I suppose so. You’re not bothered that they brought so many troops?”

“Eet bodes poorly for emperor. Leaving Arweald will sour Redbone elders. Unhappy army, means unhappy end.”

“Do you think we can fight so many?”

“Eet ees good shooting. Every arrow heets somezing.”