The Marchstone Dale: Omegaverse 6 (LitRPG)

by G. R. Cooper

  Maybe it’s for the best that I’m going to be away for the next few days.

  “How the hell did he get here so fast?” asked Wulfgar. “War was just declared this morning. Word only started spreading through Edonis yesterday or the day before. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Unless he rezzed here after dying someplace else,” suggested Lauren.

  “Wish I could ask him,” frowned Wulfgar.

  “We could,” laughed Lauren, “if Snorri hadn’t split his skull down the middle.”

  “LEEROY JENKINS!” yelled Snorri, then laughed.

  Wulfgar smiled. It was hard, sometimes, to take everything going on here seriously; after all, they were still in a game, even if they lived in it. There were just some ways of thinking that people probably wouldn’t get over for a long, long time.

  Wulfgar looked up from the town management screen. He’d been making quests for several minutes. Each was basic - sign up for the quest and when the war was won the player would get, as a reward, the plot of land attached to the individual quest. He had to make one for each plot of land that he was willing to give away. The small hill just to the west of the town, on the other side of the stream, was already taken - Rydra had called dibs on it and Wulfgar hadn’t forgotten.

  “Is there any specific spot that you guys want for your own?” He looked from Snorri to Lauren.

  “Not really sure,” answered Lauren, “I haven’t looked around much.”

  “Well,” said Wulfgar, scratching his beard, “I have two nice little plots, one on either side of the stream where it empties into the lake. If that sounds nice, I can combine each of those with another plot on the same side of the stream, and you can each take those. Double plots of land.”

  They looked at each other and back at Wulfgar, “That sounds awesome, man,” said Snorri. Lauren nodded agreement.

  “OK. Sign up for the quests. I titled each one, with your name.”

  He waited a moment while they accessed the quest screens - available to any player within the town limits. He saw on his screen that the missions Snorri’s Quest and Laur En’s Quest had been accepted. The two plots of land on his map of the kingdom were now grayed out; unavailable for assignment unless the quests failed.

  And if those quests fail, mused Wulfgar, it won’t really matter who got which plot of land.

  He continued making missions until he had fifty assigned to various plots of land along the lake. He dedicated a dozen plots right in the middle of the area as being where he would have the fishing village built. The player homes would then stretch from the east and from the west of the village. He didn’t assign any names to any of the other quests - they were all identical except for which parcel they were associated with. He would let Connor, Corwin, and Galad each pick their own spots. He selected a small hill near the wall and assigned it to Catcher.

  Wulfgar quickly scanned the map. He still had thousands of available plots, but he had to think about the future growth of the town. He selected several lots on the western end of the valley - near where he assumed that the entrance to the dwarf halls was located - and combined them and dedicated them for farming.

  For one gold each, he was able to set each of the thirty acre allotments up as a farm. Now each of those would attract an NPC farmer who would, over the next month, homestead there and begin building a small house. Once established, they would begin farming food. That would create both a constant flow of food for the town, allowing it to attract more NPCs, and slowly add to the experience points of the kingdom. Wulfgar could spend those experience points in many ways. He could use them to increase the abilities of the town’s NPC's - John the Tailor, for example. He could use them to spend on player quests, which would attract players to his town. As it was, none of the War quests he had just created came with any associated experience points, but Wulfgar was sure that the plot of land was enough to attract players.

  He closed the management screen, pushed his chair back and stood, stretching. He smiled at his friends, talking quietly on the couch.

  “I think I need to head out toward the elves now. The sooner we can get that taken care of, the better.”

  “Is it that important?” asked Lauren.

  “I think so,” he frowned, “I’d really rather not have an army I know nothing about on our rear when the fighting starts. I think it’s vital to make sure that, if nothing else, they’re neutral. Ideally, I’d like their help.”

  Lauren nodded as she and Snorri stood. The three of them left Wulfgar’s apartment and circled down the stairway until they reached the keep’s main floor. As they were going through the door, they were surprised by a pair of grizzled dwarves coming into the fortress.

  “Your majesty,” said one, as they both bowed from the waist. “We are here to begin surveying the area below.”

  “Wonderful,” said Wulfgar, turning around and going back through the door, “Let me show you exactly what I need, just to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

  “That would be most helpful,” said the other, then thumbed toward the other dwarf, “my brother Wain and I, Glain, would feel better hearing that from you.”

  Wulfgar smiled and made his way back into the stairway, this time going down instead of up. As they reached the bottom, he activated his Illumination spell, creating a half-globe of light that spread out ten meters in diameter, centered on Wulfgar.

  “Congratulations! You have gained a level in Illumination!

  Sweet, chuckled Wulfgar, still happy whenever he gained a level in anything at all. He walked out into the empty space in front of him, looking over his shoulder to the two dwarves just behind.

  “To the north,” he said, pointing ahead, “the lake is about two hundred meters away.”

  Glain pointed to the right, “North. And it’s about seventy-five meters at its closest point.”

  Wulfgar smiled, happy with the dwarven competence, if not his own sense of direction or scale.

  “North,” he agreed, pointing to his right, “which would make south that way,” he dropped his right arm and raised his left. “I want you guys to see about the feasibility of digging through to the lake in the north and down to the wall in the south.” They reached the cavern wall - to the west, Wulfgar reminded himself - and turned toward the south.

  “Do you think it’s possible?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of an archway.

  The two nodded, “Of course. Anything is possible,” said Glain.

  “Almost anything,” agreed Wain.

  Glain continued, “It’s just a question of time and dwarves.”

  “As in, how many dwarves,” nodded Wain.

  Wulfgar nodded, “Sure. But how practical? I’m not looking to make a big deal out of this. What I want is a means to flood the moat in front of the wall.”

  “And to end there?” asked Glain.

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Well,” began Wain, “The moat begins and ends where the wall is. It is really nothing more than a long ditch.”

  Wulfgar nodded understanding.

  “So if we just open up a flow from the lake to the moat,” continued Glain, “the moat will overfill and flood down into the valley below.”

  Wulfgar nodded again. He wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. Maybe a constant stream of water would create a soggy slope. Difficult footing for any attackers. He had to think beyond the war, however. The pass was the only way into and out of human lands. They needed the route for eventual traffic. For trade.

  “I see the problem,” he said, scratching his chin. “Can you make a sluice on the moat side? Something that can be controlled from the wall?”

  “So that you can choke off flow from the river?” asked Glain. “Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem. We should probably create two sluices, one at the lake and one at the moat. To better control the flow,” he looked up at Wulfgar, “to prevent these caverns from flooding.”

  “And can you create a cistern within the caverns?�
� added Wulfgar. “That would let me let loose a flood all at once. Just in case I want to suddenly overflow the moat.”

  The brothers nodded.

  “How long will it take?”

  Wain and Glain looked at each other, then back at the human.

  “It depends on the dwarf-power we put to the task.”

  Wulfgar smiled, knowing where this was going. He liked negotiating with predictable folk.

  “The dwarves can keep one hundred percent of the minerals recovered during the excavation of the tunnel and cistern for the next two weeks. Afterward, it reverts to the seventy-five percent I agreed upon with Owen.”

  The brothers smiled and said nearly simultaneously, “We’ll send for our full crew.” Wain continued, “Depending upon what we find, and how difficult the dig, we should be able to make a rough cut through in a couple of weeks. The cistern might take longer, but we can flood the moat within a fortnight.”

  Wulfgar smiled. That was better than he’d hoped.

  “There is one more task I’d like to add to the request.” He thumbed his hand over his shoulder, “Down this passageway is a room. In that room is a snake. A very big fucking snake.”

  Wulfgar described what he had in mind.

  Wulfgar walked back into the sun. Leaving the keep, he made his way to the inn a dozen meters distant. Set off just to the side, the path directly out of the keep led to the north side of the tavern. He looked into the windows as he passed, but couldn’t see into the darkness within. He hoped that the other three who would join him were ready to go meet the elves.

  He rounded the inn and made his way down the front, toward the door, but stopped short. He saw someone bent over the cloven skulled corpse next the fountain. Wulfgar turned away from the tavern door and hailed the person, bent over facing away from him.

  “Hey! Are you …”

  “TRAITOR!” screamed the man, rising from looting his corpse and turning to face Wulfgar. He was standing naked but for a linen loincloth, a bow and single arrow in his hands. As he stood, he eyed Wulfgar and began nocking the arrow.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” grumbled Wulfgar. “Look! I just want to …”

  “Leeeeee,” came a scream from inside of the tavern and Snorri burst through the door, “ROYYY JENKINS!” He giggled maniacally as he ran into the square, holding the axe high with both hands.

  Jenkins’ high pitched scream of terror once again filled the town. He tried to draw his bow, but his hands were shaking and he dropped his arrow as Snorri reached him.

  A small crack of thunder accompanied the flash of lightning as Snorri’s axe swept sideways above Jenkin’s narrow shoulders, sending the hapless archer’s smoking head twirling into the fountain.

  Snorri’s laughter filled the square as he turned to Wulfgar.

  “Have I mentioned yet that I fucking love this thing?”

  “Once or twice,” muttered Wulfgar as Connor, Corwin and Bael joined them in the square. He looked to them, “Are you all ready?”

  At their nods, he turned back to Snorri, “Look. We’re leaving now. I am in no danger from Leeroy Jenkins. If he comes back to loot his corpse,” he paused, “well, corpses, can you please try to find out where he’s from? Why he’s here? Anything other than a quick decapitation?”

  Snorri nodded, “I promise.”

  “Really?”

  Snorri laughed, shook his head, “No. Not really. But I promise I’ll try.”

  Wulfgar rolled his eyes. As they panned skyward, he saw a lone figure sitting on top of a shop to the right. He was perched on the crest of a dormer a few stories high. His left foot was curled underneath his right knee. He was looking down at the players in the square, his chin resting on his right fist, his right elbow on his knee. He had an amused look on his face.

  Wulfgar brought up the man’s character sheet.

  Baron Blue. Level 9 Bard.

  The man waved and began climbing down the outside of the building, dropping from the exposed beams of the Tudor architecture. Letting go of the beam between the first and second floors, he fell to the ground in a little cloud of dust. He turned to the rest of the crew and joined them looking down on Jenkins’ corpse.

  “Interesting chap,” he chuckled, looking up at Wulfgar. He brushed a bright shock of thick silver hair back from his forehead. His look seemed to bore through Wulfgar, evaluating and trying to come to some conclusion about him. Wulfgar was unsure if his statement was referring to Leeroy Jenkins or himself.

  Wulfgar smiled, “That’s one way to put it, Baron Blue.”

  “BeeBee works.”

  “OK, BeeBee. Welcome to Marchstone.”

  The man bowed, “My thanks. Nice place you have here, Wulfgar.”

  “Interested in joining up?”

  He smiled, “I just did. I accepted a quest with a nice little piece of lakeside property attached while I was on the roof and enjoying the floor show,” he waved to the two Jenkins; one headless and fallen onto the other, less fresh, corpse.

  Wulfgar smiled, “Wonderful. The caveat is that it’s only land. At least, at first. The homes will have to be built. After the war.”

  “Seems reasonable. Now, how would one go about winning this quest.”

  Wulfgar pointed at the still grinning Snorri. “That’s the general of our army. God help us all,” he winked. “Fill him in on your abilities and he will work with you to integrate them into his plans, assuming that he has any.” Everyone laughed. “But, in short, we are expecting a raid within days. We need to prepare for that, then for a larger invasion to come. Worst case, within a couple of weeks, but likely not for a month.” One benefit they had was that it was likely to take Tim a month or more to recruit and train the invading army.

  Unless Clive throws enough gold at him to just hire an NPC army.

  That was a worry, but Wulfgar didn’t think it likely.

  “In any case, these gentlemen and this upstanding faerie and I need to make a journey. We should be back in a few days, at most, I hope.” He looked over the new arrival and wondered if he could trust him. Was this someone genuinely interested in helping the cause, or was he simply another Leeroy Jenkins - an assassin, but smart enough to wait, to bide his time, until the correct opportunity came to strike. Wulfgar hated that he had to think that way.

  BeeBee smiled and stepped around the corpses, moving toward Snorri. As he passed Wulfgar he leaned in and whispered, “Rydra says hello.”

  Wulfgar, Connor, and Corwin rode out of Marchstone. Bael sat on the head of Wulfgar’s horse, cross-legged and facing backwards toward the human riders. Wulfgar was glad to be doing something substantive. Even just riding toward a destination with a goal in mind was a comfort after worrying about how to manage the town or about how to defend it.

  He didn’t remember passing BeeBee during the night, but the bard must have left Edonis sometime before Wulfgar did in order to arrive at the town when he did. It wasn’t much more than twenty-four hours since he began officially recruiting. Maybe Rydra had recruited BeeBee earlier, telling him about the rebellion before the thief met with Wulfgar. In that case, he could have been traveling for a couple of days or more; maybe he was sleeping in the inn in the last village before the frontier while Wulfgar plunged through the dark countryside the night before.

  But if so, why didn’t Rydra mention it?

  He shook off the thought. He couldn’t expect Rydra to mention every person he recruited - or every person he thought he recruited. For all Wulfgar knew, Rydra had no idea if BeeBee was even going to accept the recruitment. Wulfgar had to learn to trust, and quickly, those who came to join him. If he seemed suspicious or untrusting, that would be a quick means to drive people away from him.

  The party had crossed the little bridge out of town and moved toward the lake alongside the little stream. Where it emptied into the lake, they turned northwest following the shore toward the elven wood in the distance. He looked to the left and right. These two plots, straddling the mouth of the stream, w
ere where Snorri and Lauren had their double plots. He nodded; it was a nice area. Little hills fronted the lake on either side of the stream, and would make comforting spots for villas. Wulfgar looked to the east, about two hundred meters away. Just like on the map, a little spit of land thrust into the lake. That’s where he planned to put the fishing village.

  They rode silently for a while, Wulfgar lost in thought. He desperately needed a distraction, something to keep his brain from swirling in self-doubt; afraid that he was forgetting something.

  Like Lauren said, I’m going to forget something. It’s a given.

  That didn’t help to stop the worry, however. Nothing probably would. Even after the war, assuming that he won, there would always be something to worry about, some improvement he could make to the valley. Some drama or conflict to be resolved. It was probably going to be never-ending. For the rest of his life.

  Forever, he thought. I’m here forever. I’m going to be king of this place forever.

  Even if he left this place, to return to the outer Omegaverse, this place would always be here. Always need him, as long as he was the ruler. Always and forever - he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. What would it be like knowing that there would never be an end, knowing that his responsibility was everlasting?

  He sighed.

  “Something wrong?” asked Bael.

  Wulfgar smiled, “Nope. Just thinking about everything that needs to be done.” He looked at the little being. Bael’s father was a king of the faerie. As far as Wulfgar knew, the folk were as immortal as players - at least, as immortal as they could be without the advantage of resurrection. He wondered if there was anything he could learn from them.

  “Tell me about your father, if you don’t mind. How does he rule? Has he been king for long?”

  They spent the next hours riding casually, Bael telling of his people. His father was indeed immortal, as were all the folk. They could die, and some did voluntarily after they felt their time was up. There was no way that the folk could determine when this feeling would come over one of them, but when it did it was seen as a cause for celebration.