“Get used to it, lad. Bein’ the king means ye rarely do things fer yerself anymore. It be uncomfortable, even bothersome at first, I know. But each o’ these servants takes pride in what they do, and it is an honor for them to serve a king. Ye must let em do their jobs.”
“And pay them well to reward them for their service.” The queen added.
“Good advice, thank you.” Max raised his mug in salute, unintentionally causing everyone else in the room, except the royal family, to raise theirs as well. The room went silent, clearly waiting for him to speak, so he stood and shouted, “To King Ironhand and the royal family, our gracious hosts!”
“To the royal family!” A roar of voices echoed through the hall, at which point the king and queen raised their respective drinks in acknowledgment. Max quickly sat back down after taking a large gulp, feeling extremely silly.
This time, it was the queen who laughed. “You’ll get used to that, too. The rules are a little different when you sit at this table, or on the throne.”
“So I’m learning.” Max gave an embarrassed grin. He took a moment to taste the steak on the plate in front of him, then complimented the queen on the delicious food. She politely replied that she would pass his compliment on to the head chef, and Max learned another lesson. Of course the queen doesn’t cook the food!
The feast went on this way for several hours, the dwarves drinking and celebrating, recalling the storming of the wall, the breaking of the gates, and the fight in the hall where the king eventually was killed. They took some time to salute the dead, and drink to a few particular heroes individually. With all the toasts, Max was beginning to feel a little tipsy. Most of the dwarves were outright drunk, but Max’s bloodlines combined to keep him more sober than most.
Max learned many things, like not to jump in surprise when a servant appeared on one side or the other to deposit or remove dishes, refill drinks, and so forth. He observed a row of guards in the background behind the head table, alertly observing each servant that approached the table, arms at the ready.
The queen informed him that all of the food on the table, including what was on his plate, had been tasted by volunteers in the kitchen just before being brought out to them. And that the reason the servants moved so slowly was to allow time for any poisons to affect the tasters before the royals partook.
Max kept casting furtive glances at Stonebinder, trying not to snicker as the old grump scowled at the crowd in front of them. He imagined the dwarf was still smelling the stinkbomb Max had laid on him earlier.
Eventually, the party wound down to a dull roar, and Max was able to excuse himself without causing offense. He knew this because the queen leaned in and whispered, “It’s safe to flee, now. This will continue for hours, yet.”
Claiming the need to get up early to meet with his new councilors, Max wished everyone a good night and retreated back to his suite, once again escorted by the valet. Once he assured the helpful dwarf that he had all he needed for the night, he was left alone with his slightly fuzzy thoughts.
Before he slept, Max decided to review his stats and assign the points he’d earned from the battle. He’d jumped from level eleven to fifteen, giving him four more points each in Strength and Constitution, and awarding him twelve free points to assign. He thought back to the battle, and how the Rot spell might well have made the difference between being able to penetrate Agnor’s armor and kill him, or not. And his offensive spells had been a major contributor to the battle. With the new spells he’d just purchased from Josie, he was leaning toward increasing his casting abilities.
So he quickly assigned four points to Wisdom, four to Intelligence, bringing them both up to thirty. Then he began thinking about his new duties as a king. And his mission. He was about to kill a large number of orcs, then try to make peace with their leader on behalf of the dwarves. So he put three of the remaining points into Luck, reinforcing his decision by mumbling to himself that a king who was half monster, running a neutral city that he was declaring open for other monsters, set deep underground between a dwarven kingdom and kobold territory, might need a little luck on his side. The last point he slipped into Endurance, because he was absolutely sure he was going to need it.
Maximilian StormHealth: 2,100/2,100
Race: Chimera, Level 15 Mana: 650/650
BattleborneExperience: 273,000/600,000
Endurance: 25Intelligence: 30
Strength: 33Wisdom: 30
Constitution: 42Dexterity: 15 (17)
Agility: 20 (22)Luck: 15 (18)
Chapter 17
“Wakey wakey! Eggs n bacey!” Red called out near Max’s ear. Not so loud as to be obnoxious, but probably louder than needed to wake him. Max groaned, then opened his eyes to find her standing atop his chest, hands on her hips, sticking her tongue out at him. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled sharply, trying to blow her away. It didn’t even ruffle her hair.
“Ew. You probably have monster morning breath, and I’m sure it’s stanky. Why would you want to share that with me?” She smirked at him.
“Good morning, Red. At this time I would like to remind you that, at some point when I reach a high enough level, you will be physically present in this world. Keep that in mind the next time you have the urge to mess with me.” He gave her a look that clearly promised retribution.
Red shrugged. “The odds are against us living that long. In any case, you have councilors to meet with. I kind of like this whole city management, kingdom building thing. You have so much power, yet so little at the same time. A big fancy title, but no citizens, a smashed up city, half the resources and the entire wine cellar looted by drunken kobolds…” her smile was downright wicked.
“Maybe we can recruit a bunch of leprechauns. That way I can find a replacement guide that isn’t so snarky.” Max grumbled.
“Hmph!” Red stomped a weightless foot on his chest, then floated upward as Max rolled out of the bed. He took a quick shower, then donned his battle gear, preparing to leave for the orc lands after his meeting. He began to run through a mental checklist, matching it against his inventory screen to make sure he had all the supplies he wanted. He’d brought more than enough food, in the form of meat on a stick and pastries, to last him for an extended time. But now that he had two companions joining him, he wasn’t sure he had enough.
“I suppose we can always kill things and eat the meat.” he mused.
There was a knock on the door, and instead of calling out, Max decided to try his new spell. Staring at the space just in front of the door, he focused on casting Jump. A split second later he was standing near the door, tottering slightly off balance. To steady himself he grabbed the door handle and opened it.
His valet bowed politely, and said, “Good morning, highness. I am here to lead you to your scheduled meeting. The councilors are in attendance, and I took the liberty of providing breakfast for all.”
“I think I love you.” Max teased the dwarf, who just chuckled. Max followed him down the corridor to the meeting room, where the six elder dwarves were indeed waiting.
Once Max had loaded up a plate and everyone had eaten their fill, they got down to business. The former chamberlain had a copy of Darkholm’s legal code, and suggested that to save time they should adopt a similar, if not identical code. For the sake of time, Max agreed, with the condition that he would take a copy with him to read at night, and may decide to make some changes.
Next came the discussion of resources. The merchants were anxious to recruit crafters and gatherers, miners and teamsters, in order to kickstart the city’s economy. Max was all in favor of that, but encouraged them to recruit from among the kobolds and other races, not just dwarves. He explained, in as much detail as he could, his dreams for a neutral city open to all races. When the councilors reluctantly agreed to support that agenda, Max prioritized a few trades. He wanted the mines open as quickly as possible. And at least one blacksmith, preferably two or three, to work on repairing armor and weapons for t
he city defenders. When he asked about getting one or more of the taverns up and running, the dwarves all laughed.
Apparently that was a given.
He was told by the old warrior that the gates were already nearly repaired, and that the engineers could then get to work on repairing damaged buildings. Most of those were clustered near the center of the city, in the area directly behind the main gate. The damage generally came from catapult shots aimed at the gate that flew high and entered the city instead. The rest was from accidental fires or magical explosions during the purging of the greys inside the wall.
Max unloaded all of the grey dwarf armor and weapons that he’d received as loot, except for Agnor’s items, stacking them the length of the table. His best guess was that there might be enough to fully equip fifteen or twenty fighters. “Please take these with you to Stormhaven when you go. Have them repaired as necessary, then deposited into the armory. I know it’s not much, but we have to start somewhere. I hope to return with a significant stash of orcish weapons to add to these.” He tilted his head, thinking. “And, actually… if my mission is a success, I might return with some orcs to serve as guards or crafters.” The old warrior grumbled about that, but nodded his acceptance.
“I’d like to see if we can find a summoner to hire, or recruit.” Max pulled one of the elite guards’ soul gems from his inventory and passed it around. “These elites were tough, and I think they’d make good guards for us as well. Normally I’d never consent to using the trapped soul of an intelligent being. But when it comes to grey dwarves who’ve already been trapped… I’ll make an exception. Anyone who doesn’t agree, please speak now.”
Max looked around the table and saw nothing but smiles. So that was settled. As a soldier he would never waste a potentially valuable resource, and had been put in a position more than once where a civilian had to be put at risk to gather intelligence or gain access to a target. His soul had taken some hits when civilians died, but he told himself it had to be done to complete his objectives, and pushed on.
Next they discussed tax rates, and the dwarves were shocked when Max introduced the question of income tax. The merchants nearly became violent, getting to their feet and stomping around, railing against the concept of charging a citizen a portion of their income on top of the import and sales tax that merchants paid, or the annual flat tax paid by peasants.
Max happily dismissed the idea, having never liked paying income tax himself. He actually abolished the flat tax for peasants for the first two years as well. In this discussion, peasants were anyone who wasn’t crafting and selling, or buying and selling, trade goods. This would be your cooks, cleaners, wagon drivers, teachers, chambermaids, dock workers, anyone who wasn’t generating sales taxes via trade.
The topic of wagon drivers brought up a question for Max. “How long will it take to establish a safe trade route for wagons to move goods from here to Stormhaven?”
The old engineer answered, “The route be established already by the engineers that hauled the siege engines down there. As for makin’ it safe… that may never be. There be creatures that roam the underground, and attack trade convoys. The best ye can do fer now is to require caravans to have escorts. Ye won’t have the funds to pay for em yerself, but the merchants who trade with other cities be used to bearin’ that cost.”
The merchants both nodded their agreement, accepting the cost of mercenaries or house guards as part of doing business underground. One of them added, “It would be a great boon to the city if ye would purchase a permanent portal. They be damned expensive, but ye can charge a few gold fer each transport, and traders will happily pay it. The portal fees be far cheaper than payin’ and feedin’ guards to walk the paths with their wagons. Portals save time, which be valuable, and reduce risk of loss.”
The other merchant added, “And ye’ll be able to trade with more’n just Darkholm and the kobolds. A portal gives ye access to any other city with a portal o’ their own.”
“Okay, let’s make that a top priority. We obviously don’t have funds now, but let’s set aside a portion of the tax income until we have enough. In the meantime I’ll do what I can to create trade opportunities, or otherwise raise funds.”
The last thing they discussed was real estate. Max decided to offer the opportunity to purchase some of the shops and homes in the city on an auction basis. His hope was that the proceeds would more quickly fill the city coffers. The rest could be rented, and renters could purchase an option to buy at a later date. Max set the limit at five years. He left it to the merchants to set the sales prices based on their opinions of the value of each property, instructing them not to sell cheaply, but not to set prices so high as to retard sales. He wanted a thriving city more than he wanted a treasury full of gold. The one absolute requirement he set was that the pastry baker’s nephew be placed in the shop closest to the palace, rent free for the first year.
Toward lunchtime, Dalia and Battleaxe showed up, ready to hit the road. Max requested a meal for everyone, and they discussed some last minute ideas. He promised to return from the orc lands as quickly as possible. The last thing he did was take paper and pen and make a list, which he folded and handed to the old chamberlain. He leaned close and whispered instructions to the dwarf, who listened intently, then gave a solemn nod and pocketed the list.
His city business seen to as best he could for the moment, Max thanked everyone, and headed out for the orc lands.
*****
The journey began with a pleasant stroll through the city of Darkholm, waving and exchanging greetings with the dwarves they passed. Max chatted with his companions about whether they had enough supplies, and asked each of them at least three times if they were sure they wanted to risk their necks with him. Sergeant Battleaxe was excited about the prospect of taking down some orcs, while Dalia seemed much more interested in preserving Max’s hide than killing orcs. Dalia instructed Max on how to send them party invites, and soon they were all grouped up.
Max discussed his rough plans for the trip, then filled them in on his capabilities. He told them about his actions during the battles, though Dalia had been there to witness most of it. He described his spells, including the new ones, then just for fun demonstrated Jump by teleporting fifty feet ahead of them. When Dalia asked if he could teleport others as well, Max was stumped.
“I’m not sure. Let’s experiment.” He started by picking up a large stone and teleporting it to a spot he picked not far away. The stone arrived seemingly with no problems. He tried it several more times on larger and larger stones with the same effect. When he stared at a small boulder and tried to send it ten feet away, he failed. It seemed he had to be touching the object in order to send it. To confirm this, he set his hand on it and recast the spell. A split second later the boulder thudded to the ground at its destination.
“Let’s hold off on trying this with people, for now. I need to learn more, practice more, maybe raise the spell skill a level or two.” Max told the dwarves. “But I do want to test another spell. We should stand back, and take cover. He motioned for the dwarves to join him behind a much larger boulder, then targeted the small one he had just teleported. Smiling to himself, he cast the spell just as Josie had demanded, pointing his finger and saying, “Boom!”
For a second, nothing happened. Then with a spectacular shattering sound, the stone exploded outward, sending chips and chunks in every direction. A nearby shrub was shredded, and the dirt and grass looked as if they’d been mulched. Surrounding stones reflected the fast-moving chips, creating a kill zone that would have torn apart anything within.
“Damn.” Battleaxe whispered, and Dalia nodded her head.
Max learned an important lesson. A spell may be only moderately powerful in and of itself. But cast on the right object, in the right location, and its effects could be enhanced or even multiplied. Had that stone been out in the middle of a grass field, the shrapnel might have killed an enemy or two standing nearby. But surrounded by other
stones that reflected the shrapnel back and forth… he could have shredded a dozen grey dwarves.
Battleaxe got to his feet. “Do me a favor and don’t cast that on anything we be trapped in a room with.”
Dalia laughed. “Be one hell of a way to break out of a prison cell, though. Especially if ye wait until yer guards are nearby.”
Max was almost dizzy with the whirlwind of possibilities in his mind. This spell was truly something for Josie’s great great grandfather to be proud of. He made a mental note to thank her again.
The first day, since they got a late start, they simply walked back toward the Brightwood battlefield. Max wanted to gather more scales and bone shards while he could. When they reached the edge of the cursed zone, he had the dwarves stop and find a place to set up camp in the nearby woods. Then he entered the zone, his health immediately beginning to yo-yo down and back up again.
First he returned to the spot where he’d found the sword, poking around and hoping for some additional clues that might help him explain what happened. Unfortunately, nearly everything had rotted after a thousand years of exposure to the elements. With a sigh of regret, he jogged back over to the dragon’s remains. With his gauntlets on, he dropped to his knees and began to search the tall grass for more scales. It didn’t take him long to come across one, then another. For an hour he searched in and around the giant rib cage, gathering scales and any bone shards he came across, until something else caught his attention.
The vertebrae.
He’d noted them before, but hadn’t paid much attention to them. Now as he gazed at the smaller ones that would have been near the end of the dragon’s tail, a wicked smile appeared on his face. He grabbed half a dozen of them, the smallest the size of a baseball, and was happy to see that they stacked in a single slot in his inventory. As an afterthought, he moved up the spine until he found one about four feet high. Using his strength and body weight for leverage, he rocked it back and forth until it was free of the thousand years of dirt and grass roots that held it in place. Experimentally, he bent and slid his fingers underneath, lifting with his legs. The bone segment was lighter than he’d expected, and he was able to lift it. Holding his breath, he tried sliding the much larger item into his inventory, and it worked! Though it took up a slot of its own.
Battleborne Page 27
