CivCEO: A 4x Lit Series (The Accidental Champion Book 1)

by Andrew Karevik

  By the third day of the festival, I could tell people were becoming just as tired of it as I was. We didn’t have much more resources other than wild boar and beer, and that had been the mainstay for the first two days. There was no real entertainment, and the few games they had invented were boring after being played over and over again. They all seemed to like the idea of a seven day festival, but without the right resources, it wasn’t as fun as they had all imagined.

  And so, I took this opportunity at the night dinner to make a proposal. Standing up, before the crowd of people who were sitting at the long table under the starlit sky, I raised a glass.

  “Friends!” I said. “This festival has been excellent, but I fear that I must cut things short.” I paused, to allow a few of them to audibly sigh or moan about such a thing, but could see the relief on many of the older people’s faces.

  “The time has come for me to begin our next great endeavor, a project that will bring tremendous prosperity to our people,” I continued. “For I am seeking to carve a path from Tine all the way through to the West, where we shall create our very first major trade route.”

  The people all looked at one another, murmuring in confusion. I could hear the sound of apprehension in their voices. Mayor Hemmings, who was sitting next to me, was quick to whisper in my ear.

  “Sir, you surely aren’t speaking about the Western villages of Euthos and Authos?”

  “You’re familiar with them?”

  Hemmings grimaced. “Sir, those two villages are fiercely warmongering people. They are almost always embroiled in a near perpetual conflict with one another. They are hostile to outsiders, for fear of their enemies gaining an advantage through trade.”

  I shrugged at those words. “So?”

  “What do you mean, so? So you’re going to be killed if you go down there.”

  “Hemmings, let me explain something to you,” I said, increasing my volume enough to recapture the attention of the village. “I’m not here to play it safe. I’m here to build Tine into something truly incredible. And to do something so extraordinary, sometimes you need to take risks. There is an entire region that no one else has access to. If I can make a deal with these people, we’d be more prosperous than anyone here could dream of.”

  Hemmings, turning red from embarrassment of being called out, sank into his seat. I didn’t mean to make him look like a fool to everyone, but I needed to project confidence. This was a new development in the situation, but I wasn’t about to just back off. Back home, I had dealt with many trader partners who might as well have been at war with one another. As long as I could convince both parties that I was on their side, I’d be able to help them come to some peaceful resolution.

  “Well!” Elean said, standing up and raising her glass. “If our champion says he can do it, we stand by him!”

  “Cheers!” Leopold said, raising his glass. Everyone toasted and cheered, enjoying the remains of the festival that had long overstayed its welcome. With the members of the elders supporting me, I’d get no trouble from the rest of the village. It was time for me to move out and venture into the dangerous and unknown West Liora.

  Chapter 21

  The history of Euthos and Authos was complicated, to say the least. As I set on my journey, accompanied by my diplomat companion, Teresa, she told me all about them, speaking with words imparted to her by the divine power of the Great Picture. For a long time, the two villages had been owned and operated by a single champion, a woman by the name of Savannah.

  Savannah ran things fairly well, opting for diplomatic approaches with outsiders, conducting her business with anyone and everyone. Even though she was a champion, she was relatively unconcerned with any serious expansion plans. Rather, she treated the role as a job, hanging up her book after 5 pm, and living as a regular member of society. She eventually found a husband, another champion who had lost his own village while trying to defend against a warlord.

  Over time, this new champion, Harold, was granted dominion over one of the cities, Euthos. Savannah saw it as an opportunity to give him something to do, while simultaneously reducing her workload, giving her more time to study magic. Of course, Harold’s method of building up a village was far more combat-oriented than she realized. A few barracks were built, an archer’s tower, then a wall…and then a foundry for building siege weapons.

  Harold had plans, it turned out, to expand his family’s dominion. Another village, one whose name was lost to history, was close enough for an invasion. They were small and helpless. All of Savannah’s hard work to build up the economy of both villages gave Euthos the resources it needed to invade and take the town for their own. Savannah was less than pleased with this.

  However, in transferring ownership of Euthos to Harold, Savannah had given up her ability to control the village. It was as if she had handed the keys to a car to her husband; unless she got the keys back, there was nothing she could do to stop him. An argument broke out between the two and Harold explained that he was free to do as he pleased, since she had given him the village. This caused a lot of bad blood between the two and, within ten years, they were at war. Savannah, fighting to protect her allies from Harold’s war machine, and Harold, attempting to take control of the region.

  Yet, both villages had been so prosperous, that the fighting would continue for years upon years. All trade dried up, and now everyone actively avoided the region. Without the Tradesmen to open up a route, the rest of the world simply ignored the area, hoping that eventually one village would win and peace would reign. But it had been twenty years since the fighting began. Few believed peace would ever be possible.

  I must admit, such a colorful history led me to balk a little at my own plans for expansion. After all, if this had been a simple disagreement, I might be able to talk sense into the villages, but a lovers’ quarrel? A story of such deep, personal betrayal meant that there was no room for reason or rationality in either party. But still, I was a champion. If anything, they might just be relieved to meet an outsider who was like them.

  The journey to reach Authos was long and tiresome. There were no villages along the way, and the roads were more like dirt paths, long forgotten by time. Teresa didn’t have much to say to me, either, and preferred to ride in silence. I was at least comfortable with that part, because I honestly didn’t have much to say to her either. It wasn’t like we could talk about the news or our favorite sports teams.

  Thanks to the book, I was able to access the Great Picture and keep in touch with Alamander, once he returned. From what I could tell, the mission had been a success. The wizard had managed to sneak the letter into Henderson Aims’ office and managed to sneak himself out (along with a bottle of expensive whiskey) without a trace. No one suspected that I was involved and, soon, the Tradesmen would find themselves in the heat of a serious internal conflict.

  Hopefully, this would buy me enough time to get my trade route figured out. Or at the very least, enough time to build capital for hiring mercenaries to help out. I wasn’t too pleased with our current financial situation. While it made sense, giving up 100 gold a week without any additional coin coming into our pocket was a rough deal. I hadn’t instituted a raise in taxes quite yet; even though the village was doing better financially, I had just gotten onto their good side. I would wait a few more weeks, hopefully after I secured this trade deal, to announce a “road tax.” As long as I gave a concrete explanation for why their taxes were increasing, it would help to settle their frustrations. Or so I hoped.

  After nearly a week and a half of travel through rough terrain, terrible weather and endless detours to bypass bridgeless rivers, we finally arrived at the border of Authos. There was a large, wooden sign that read: This is the lawful property of Authos. Any intruders will be shot on sight.

  This didn’t bode well. I looked at Teresa, who wore the same grim expression that I did. “Well? What do we do?”

  “A white flag would do best, I guess,
” she said, digging into her satchel and producing a long white banner. “That is supposing that these people are willing to respect the universal sign of surrender.”

  “Perhaps you should stay here then,” I said, grabbing the banner and tying it to the pole that had been hanging on the side of my horse. I had wondered why she insisted on bringing this pole, but now it made sense.

  “Two riders would be more concerning than one,” she agreed, reaching her hand out to grab the pole from me. “But I should go. We can’t risk your life.”

  “Why? Because it’s too important? “I asked, pulling the rod away from her and raising it high. “Sorry, but I’m not going to be the kind of leader who’s content to risk his subordinates’ lives. This was my choice to come here. I will bear the consequences.”

  There was nothing but relief on Teresa’s face at my words. But still, she tried to insist, perhaps only to put up the appearance that she was willing to be so loyal. I rebuffed her once again and instructed her to wait outside the border. I would come for her when it was clear.

  With that, I raised the flag tall and trotted out onto the rubble of what looked to be a road at one point. This broken road led to the town of Authos, and I could see the big, stone walls surrounding the village as I carefully ushered Smiles forward.

  No sooner were we a hundred yards away from the gates, several archers on horseback came riding out from some unseen location, bows drawn and aimed at me. I raised the flag up high with both hands, to show that I was alone and unarmed.

  “Halt it there!” one of the riders shouted as his horses surrounded me. The six horses made Smiles a little nervous and he whinnied, protesting such a sudden arrival. I tried to soothe him as best I could. The last thing I needed was my horse taking off in a panic, giving these guards the proper permission to shoot me down.

  “I am the Champion Charles Morris of Tine!” I shouted, “I come waving the white flag of peace, firing upon me would be a war crime!”

  The riders slowed to a halt after running circles around me for a few moments. The captain, a burly man wearing leather armor with golden straps, lowered his bow and glared at me. “A champion? Why in the hell would you come all the way out here, friend? Ain’t nothing but war in these parts. You best turn yourself around and go home.”

  “I’m here to speak to the leader of this village, to Savannah,” I replied.

  The captain made a face at those words. “Listen, man, I’m gonna be real straight with you here, out of respect for the fact that you were crazy enough to try this visit. Queen Savannah isn’t one to take visitors. The last visitor we had was a spy, and as you can see, we don’t take too kindly to spies.” He pointed to one of the walls and I could spot the head of a man, stuck onto a pike. The captain lowered his voice as he continued. “And now she thinks everyone could be a spy. Go home.”

  I shook my head. “I can assure you that I am no spy. I am a champion and she will respect that.”

  “If you’re going to commit to this, I suppose I’ll escort you in,” the captain said. “Just don’t be mad at me when I’m forced to kill you. I gave you all the warnings I could.”

  Chapter 22

  The village of Authos was incredible. To call it a village was a misnomer for certain, for it appeared to be like a city in its construction. There were apartment buildings to house the large population, separate districts, each dedicated to a different function in society. The streets were made of a better grade of cobblestone than even Igithor. For a place in a constant state of war, Authos seemed to be doing quite well.

  I was marched, in restraints, to the castle where Savannah resided. There was another wall surrounding this castle, for extra security, complete with a drawbridge and a moat. Was this paranoia or practicality? The only way to tell would be to talk to the champion.

  The interior of the castle was lavishly decorated, perhaps a sign of the previous prosperous era. There were many paintings of different people, although some of the portraits had their faces torn out. Most likely her ex-husband. Even the group portraits had his face removed, as opposed to simply painting a new portrait of Savannah and her family. The further along I went, the less and less I began to believe that peace was a possibility. I would have to change my strategy in negotiation here. The coals of hatred had been burning for too long; I would not be able to quench them.

  Captain Ivan escorted me, alone, into Savannah’s office, a large library full of books on magic. I knew they were magic in nature by the fact that, from time to time, a book would flutter out of its shelf and over to a different one. Savannah sat in the center of these fluttering books on a large table, studying several works at once, so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t notice our arrival.

  “Most honorable Queen Savannah,” Ivan said, bowing down. “I bring to you a man from the outside who insists upon speaking with you.”

  “A spy then?” she asked, looking up. I could see from the dark rings around her eyes and the disheveled look upon her face that sleep was not her friend. Her hands were jumpy as well, twitching a little as she stared at me. “Kill him then, would you?”

  “My Liege,” Ivan said, bowing again. “He comes from Tine, a village in the Amber Forest. A champion.”

  “Is that what you claim?” Savannah asked, standing from her seat on the table and walking over to me. “A champion? Where are you from?”

  “I was born in Baltimore,” I replied, hoping against hope she would recognize the name.

  A small smile came across her face at those words. “Leave us, Captain,” she ordered. “And send for cheesesteaks.”

  Ivan nodded and bowed again, quickly retreating from the chambers.

  “You have cheesesteaks here?” I asked.

  Savannah shrugged. “As well as I could replicate the recipe. It’s a lot harder to create something from memory, especially if you aren’t a cook.”

  “Where are you from?” I asked. She snapped her fingers, causing a spark of green energy to fly from her fingertips. The ropes around my wrists loosed immediately.

  “I was originally from New Jersey, in the 1990s,” she said. “You?”

  “How can that be?” I asked. “You’ve been here for over two decades. I was brought here from the year 2000.”

  “Oh, time is really messed up,” Savannah said, clearing a few books off of a large leather chair. “Please, have a seat.”

  “How so?” I asked, sitting in the chair and sinking in. Why was it that everyone had a nice chair like this except for me? I would have to get one somehow.

  “Well, I don’t understand it myself, but time here moves differently from time in our world,” she explained. “Thirty years in our time isn’t the same as this place. So you’ll meet champions from all over the world. Once I met a man, a Greek from the year 25 AD.”

  “Interesting…” I said, looking at all the books surrounding her. “Are you trying to get back home?”

  Savannah smiled faintly at me. “More than anything. I had a family back home, you know. A bunch of sisters and brothers. A mother. I miss them so much. What about you?”

  “I was an eighty year old man on the verge of being buried alive, aka retirement,” I replied. “I’m much happier here.”

  “Spoken like a man without a family,” she said. The words stung a little, but they were true. I had no one to return to back in my old life.

  “You aren’t wrong. But business is my family, at least it was till I was forced to retire.”

  “Well, this makes for one interesting retirement,” Savannah replied, sitting in the chair opposite of me. “It’s nice talking to a real person for once.”

  “These people aren’t real?” I asked.

  “I mean real like…they don’t revere you. A god grabbed me off the street, dropped me into this village, and everyone treats you like a Queen without you having done a damn thing. I mean, it was nice at first, especially since I had been kinda broke in the real world. But
now…there’s no real connection with these people. They all look at you as a Chosen One, a champion. Not a person.”

  “The thought never occurred to me,” I replied. My reception was certainly a lot colder and more hostile, that was for sure.

  “So, it’s nice to talk to someone from home,” Savannah said. “I take it you’re here to try and trade?”

  “That was my plan, yes,” I replied.

  “Champions don’t come down here a lot. The Tradesmen blacklisted us a long time ago due to my husband’s brilliant strategy of robbing their caravans to fund his war campaigns. The distance to reach us was too far from their central bases to retaliate through violence, so they blacklisted both villages,” Savannah explained. “So if you’re working with them, legally you can’t work with us.”

  “Oh, I have no love for the Tradies,” I said. “In fact, you could say that my village is in extreme peril because of that lack of love.”

  “Is that right?”

  I was quick to explain my resistance to their attempts at bullying. She found this to be somewhat funny and laughed at my predicament. There was a warmth in her, at the realization that she was talking to someone from Earth. My jitters about being executed for espionage began to melt away the longer we spoke. But would I be able to gain her cooperation? That was still the question of the hour.

  “So what, you thought you’d be able to come down here and set up a brand new trade route?” she asked, shaking her head. “I’m honored that you’d consider us, but as soon as that route opens up, Harold’s men are going to be robbing it for supplies. It would ultimately strengthen his position, and I cannot let that happen.”

  I was silent for a moment and opened my mouth to ask the dreaded question, but before I could, the door opened as servants wheeled in a large silver tray, full of sandwiches and beer.

  “Wonderful! That smells delightful!” Savannah said, leaning up, eager to receive the meal. There was a scent of cooked meat, for certain, but it didn’t smell like anything close to a cheesesteak—at least the way they made them in Philly.