The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set 2

by Eric Ugland

“What did you mean by concern if not these creatures being dangerous?”

  “Yeah, I was just, uh, trying to get more information.”

  “Word your questions better.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Your village must withstand attacks from all sides. They will be coming.”

  “They?”

  “Attacks. Attacks will be coming.”

  “From the Empire?”

  “Surely. You think Valamir will leave you be? Setting aside the fact you have already interfered with his carefully laid plans, you are currently an unknown quantity, and if you do not support his claim to the throne, he will attempt to destroy you. If you support his claim to the throne, he will unland you and destroy you after he has taken the throne.”

  “You know this?”

  “I know nothing. It is just what is very likely to pass.”

  “So defense is important.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “Walls then.”

  “Walls are not the only means to defense. Did you ever study history?”

  “I don’t know that I’d use the word study.”

  “What word might you use, then?”

  “I mean, I took history classes, but I mostly just flirted with chicks and drew, like, I don’t know, demons and stuff.”

  “You were an artist?”

  “Let’s not go that far.”

  He smiled at me. “Had you studied history, I imagine you would have more ideas of how you might proceed. There have been a few gifts for you, nothing along the lines of history, unfortunately.”

  “Gifts?”

  “Yes.”

  He seemed to pull something out of the air with a flick of his wrist, and he handed me a fishing pole.

  “A fishing pole?” I asked.

  “It is!” A big grin spread across his thin face. “And yet it is so much more.”

  “Does it slice and dice?”

  “No, but the reel has an endless supply of monofilament.”

  “What’s the pound test?”

  “Is that a thing?”

  “Yes. It’s like, a rating of how strong the line is.”

  “Oh. Might I have it back a moment?”

  “Did you make it unbreakable?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you have something to trade for me to give it back to you for a moment?”

  “You are learning.”

  “Had to at some point.”

  Paul nodded approvingly. “What is it you would care for?”

  “Two things.”

  “Two?”

  “One is pretty minor.”

  “I will be the judge of that.”

  “A cold can of Faygo root beer.”

  He looked into the darkness for a moment, then nodded. “Minor enough. Second?”

  “A book on history that will help me understand how to defend us.”

  Another nod. “Yes. I agree to this.”

  I handed the fishing pole to him, and he gave me a book and a 24 oz bottle of Faygo root beer, ice cold.

  I slid the book under my butt, unscrewed the bottle cap, and took in a huge mouthful of pop.

  It was glorious. Sure, it came out the sides of my mouth and the bubbles went up my nose, but it was a moment of perfection.

  “Fishing rod,” Mister Paul said.

  “You fixed the line.”

  “That I did. The line is roughly proportional to your strength, it would be unseemly for you to break the line purely because you pulled too hard.”

  “So it’s unbreakable?”

  “Not sure I would term it that way. Now, there is also this ring.”

  He held out a thick gold ring.

  “Is that the one ring?” I asked.

  “What one ring?”

  “The ring to rule them all?”

  “No.”

  I sent my little identification spell its way.

  Ring of Questions Answered

  Item Type: Epic

  Item Class: Ring

  Material: Gold

  Durability: High

  Weight: .08 lbs

  Requirements: n/a

  Description: The ring of questions answered will highlight the lost.

  “It’s rather vague,” I said.

  “The best magic always is,” Mister Paul replied, dropping the ring and forcing me to scramble to snatch it from the air. “And speaking of magic, I have a last-minute device I think you will be most excited by.”

  “Great. Hit me with it.”

  He did a little flourish with his hand, and a small pendant dropped down on the end of a chain. It was a sculpture of a small creature.

  “What is this?” I asked, taking the chain.

  “A little something to help you.”

  I cast identification on the chain and pendant.

  Pendant of Assistance

  Item Type: Epic

  Item Class: Chain

  Material: Tungsten and Wildwood

  Durability: High

  Weight: .08 lbs

  Requirements: n/a

  Description: The pendant allows the summoning of Prinkies. Each Prinky survives off the mana it drains from you, and requires five mana to survive.

  “Yeah,” I said, “this is one of the weirder things I’ve found here.”

  I looked back over at Mister Paul.

  “Yes, well, I thought you would like it,” he huffed, almost upset that I was questioning his gift.

  “What is a Prinky?”

  “It is a creature, not quite as dumb as they initially seem, but able to assist you in, well, let’s be honest, simple tasks.”

  “Oh, like golems.”

  “Sure, you could certainly think that at first,” he said quickly. “I wanted to make sure you had a little something to assist your quest to find cute things to entertain your viewers.”

  “Viewers?”

  “Ignore that.”

  “Is this like that time you told me to get a kitsune-girl—”

  “And get her you did. Well, get her is incorrect. There was, perhaps, a little massaging of some record books to insure her contract was available to purchase, but all that for nothing as you seem to ignore her. That does nothing to entice your audience. They want romance and heaving bosoms.”

  “Hey, wait—”

  “Unfortunately, waiting is not an activity I might engage in. Time stops for no one, certainly not me.”

  “You’re saying a whole lot and I’m having trouble keeping track of any of it. Maybe you could spell it out for me? Just once.”

  “That is a very enticing offer, but sadly not fun nor legal, so I shan’t be doing that. Which is a shame indeed because you do have quite the ordeal coming.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Opponents are massing all around you.”

  “They are?”

  “Oh yes, I thought we spoke about this. Valamir to the south, Mahrduhm to the East, the dark goblins to the west, and the mystery dark horse challengers coming from the north, east, and, well, down.”

  “Down?”

  “Well, I hardly think anything is coming from above quite yet, but you never know.”

  “You mentioned Valamir, and I asked about the goblins, but—”

  “Well then, dear boy, it would seem you’ve even more to do than we thought. Best get to work. Go build your little village.”

  You have been offered a quest by Mister Paul:

  Build Your Village 1

  Build a wall or defensive structure around your village

  Reward for success: XP, and a follower

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): unknown

  Yes/No

  I looked over it, a little confused.

  “A follower—” I started to ask, but Mister Paul held up a hand.

  “Also,” he said, “explore the valley before too long.”

  You have been offered a quest by Mister Paul:

  Get to know your neighborhood

  Explo
re your valley. Reach all the corners, the center, and the various bits and bobs in between until you know the land you’ve claimed as yours. At least the non-mountain stuff.

  Reward for success: XP and unknown

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): unknown

  Yes/No

  “Might regret it if you leave it until last,” Mister Paul finished ominously.

  “Wait—“

  “Ta-ta,” he said, and he slipped off the ledge, and walked through the air until he disappeared.

  Chapter 63

  I sat in the cold, looking at the camp down below, watching Ragnar and Skeld move about the place. I read over the quests one more time and accepted them. It seemed like the smart thing to do. Frankly, it seemed like the only thing to do. I mean, besides the other something I could be doing: sipping root beer and reading.

  A neat thing about life in Vuldranni, with darkvision, reading a book at night was as easy as reading it in the day. Maybe even easier. The increased contrast of the black and white in my darkvisioned eyes made the pages nearly glow. The book I’d been given was on Roman construction techniques and architecture, with a focus on the military side of things. Maybe because I was smarter than I’d been in the past, I didn’t get bored reading the book, and I felt like I was keeping more of it in my head. According to the book, the Romans would build a modified version of their camp fort every night at the end of their march. It certainly seemed that I needed to be treating my little town more like a military encampment. Mister Paul had been vague about what we’d be facing, but I had no doubt we needed to be ready.

  By the time the light crept over the mountains and my followers began to move about, I had an inkling of a plan, and desire to make things happen.

  Back on ground level, I grabbed a bowl of porridge and ate it in front of the fire, thinking thoughts of the Castrum, the fortified Roman military camps.

  Nikolai came and sat down on one side of me, with Lee dropping in on the other side close behind.

  “Gents,” I said.

  “You have a plan?” Nikolai asked. “We need to make real progress today.”

  “I have a plan,” I replied. “And I apologize for taking so long — it is more because I am not, uh, smart. Or wasn’t. I just needed to study some history and then—”

  “Our history?” Lee asked.

  “Not America. Rome.”

  Lee looked confused, but just for a moment, then he smiled. “Castrum?”

  “Yeah, exactly! You know about them?”

  “Some of the basics. I was always intrigued with the Romans. Stories of their roads, aqueducts, arches, it all fascinated me. Their fortresses, not quite as much.”

  “Care to let me in on this?” Nikolai asked, looking from me to Lee and back.

  I pulled the paperback from my pocket and passed it over to Lee. Then I turned to face Nikolai.

  “There were these cats named the Romans,” I started.

  “Cat people?” Nikolai asked.

  “Just humans,” Lee said, flipping through the book. “He’s trying to be colorful.”

  “Just use regular language, Montana,” Nikolai said through a frown. “You will only trip yourself up.”

  “Fine, there were people called the Romans, and they were known for, well, conquering most of our world. They had a legion, likely something similar to your legions here. Every night, after the Legion would march, they would set up a fort of sorts. And if they had to spend more time somewhere, they’d just replace some of the stuff they did in the temporary forts with more permanent stuff. That’s what we’re going to do. Build up a camp, then start replacing things as we can.”

  “Where did you get the book?” Nikolai asked. “And is it about these Romans?”

  “I had a visit from Mister Paul.”

  “Ah, your god.”

  “One of them at least.”

  “Explain to me this camp before I read about it myself.”

  “Can you read this?” Lee asked, offering Nikolai the book.

  Nikolai squinted, then turned his head.

  “No. I suppose I need more of an explanation then.”

  “You want to take this?” I asked Lee.

  “Time for you to lead,” Lee said with a smile, “Duke Coggeshall.”

  I nodded, and I ate a big bite of porridge.

  “We start by changing how we are thinking,” I said. “So far we’ve acted like we are townspeople or—”

  “I have not done that—” Nikolai interrupted.

  “You know how irritated you get when I interrupt you?” I asked.

  He gave a slight smile. “Apologies, my lord.”

  “I want to get this talked out before the rest of our little group emerges from that smelly long house. We need to stop thinking like we are a village. We aren’t. We’re a military outpost. We need to start functioning more like an army. In that regard, this ‘town’ needs to be more like a fort, and we’re going to start building that today. If the Romans can build a camp fort in less than a day, we can too.”

  “Uh,” Lee said, a finger up, “you realize the Romans you’re speaking of were a Legion of nearly 5,000 men who’ve all been trained on how to work together to do this.”

  “Yes, well, that wasn’t something I was considering and I should have. So it might take us a little longer, but we’ve got magic as well.”

  “As long as you’re aware.”

  “I am. Sort of. But that’s also why you’re here — to catch my idiocy.”

  “How lucky.”

  “Do you have specifics?”

  “I do,” I said, and I started to sketch in the dirt with my spoon. I probably should have finished eating first, but, well, the porridge was almost thin enough to drink.

  The mountain face would form our southern wall, with the tunnel coming in and forming what would have been the via principale, or the main road. Our longest sides would be our North and South walls, meaning we’d have less to construct. And to dig. We would start by digging out ditches, three to eight feet deep, throwing the dirt inward. Then we’d make ramparts with the dirt, and use logs to face the dirt and make walls. Outside of the wall, we would clear everything, even using the cattle, horses, and other grass eaters, to trim the grass down as best we could. Because of how heavily wooded our little slice of Vuldranni happened to be, we’d get the wood for our wall at the same time we cleared our land.

  The industrial elements would be placed on the north wall while the housing would go against the south, against the mountain. That way, there would be the most space between the non-combatants and anyone trying to get to us. The military would use all the space to the east of the main road, the smaller portion of the rectangle. And we’d have towers on the corners, and large gatehouses on the four gates. Plus, once we got going, a keep somewhere inside.

  “Not exactly a Roman fort,” I said, looking down at the drawing, “but I think it takes what we need and makes something of it. As far as trades go, I want a sawmill of some kind up and running first.”

  “I fear I must disagree,” Nikolai said. “We have more stone than we know what to do with.”

  “Lee?” I asked.

  Not bothering to look up from the Roman book, he nodded. “Nik’s right — plenty of stone right now. But a sawmill would be key to getting all the elements we need for inside. And I’d rather have the industrial stuff, as you called it, the workshops and whatnot, up against the eastern wall. Nearer the river. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Okay, well,” I said, “we have plenty to do today. I will start on the wall and the ditch. Nikolai, you grab, uh, what’s his name—” I snapped my fingers, trying to remember names, but it eluded me.

  “Who?” Lee asked.

  “The mason?”

  “The woch,” Lee said. “Conall.”

  “Take him—” I started.

  “Learn your people,” Nikolai snapped. “They must matter to you if you are to matter to them.”

  “I will work on sociali
zing.”

  “Good. What am I to instruct Conall on?”

  “Whomever he’s been working with, get them to finish that wall and gate around the tunnel through the mountain. We need to sit and talk tactics for what might be coming down on us.”

  “Your god gave you a heads up?” Lee asked.

  “He did.”

  “What is it?”

  “Too much to go into right now. Just, you know, let’s get walls and ditches and some safety. Lee, you take our carpenter—”

  “Guy Gambrill,” Lee offered.

  “Sure, you get Guy and whomever he needs to get a workshop up and running.”

  “A workshop for him or a sawmill?”

  “Yes. Both. If you can, today. Everyone else who lacks a job or isn’t busy, send them to me. Time to dig ditches, bitches.”

  Lee just shook his head, and Nikolai muttered as he walked away.

  “What?” I shouted while scooping a heaping spoonful of porridge into my mouth. It tasted gritty.

  Chapter 64

  While I was busy spitting out the rocks I’d foolishly eaten by using my drawing spoon, the kindly old battenti came up and looked at the sketches by my feet.

  “These look like plans,” he said.

  “They are.”

  “For this place?” he asked.

  I nodded, spitting a pebble out.

  “You want them laid out on the ground?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Got a few abilities that might help with this.”

  “That would be huge.”

  “Glad to be of help, my lord,” he said, a big grin on his little face.

  I walked to the tree line, barely twenty feet from our current solitary domicile, pulled out an axe, and leaned it against my leg. I got some dirt on my hands, then spit in them and rubbed them together.

  “Seems a rather disgusting habit,” came a distinguished voice behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder at the perfectly put together Lady Eliza Northwoods. She had a cerulean silk gown on that did quite a bit to accentuate the color of her eyes, and presented her, uh, shape, impressively.

  “You look nice this morning,” I said before I could help myself.