The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set

by Eric Ugland

  “Capital is worth a trip. Most amazing place I ever beheld.”

  “I’ll add it to the bucket list.”

  He took a sip, and raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Saying from back home,” I said.

  “And here I thought you were a man of the Empire.”

  “Right. I am. So it’s a phrase I made up. A list of things to do before you die. You know, kick the bucket.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Not sure that one will do much catching on here. Why would you kick a bucket to begin with?”

  “No idea.”

  “As commonplace as danger and death are in the Empire, probably not good to go around talking about what you want to do afore you die. Probably best to just do it.”

  “Is it dangerous out?”

  “Where?”

  “Here. I mean if I wanted to go out for a nighttime stroll—”

  “I wouldna.”

  “You wouldn’t, or you wouldn’t if you were me?”

  “Iffn I were you, I might, but only to knock a few heads in for some rough lads I want to learn a lesson. But lookin’ at you, I think you might not know how to pull your punches, and we need all the those lads we got in case something comes down out of the North this winter. But if I were me, and I am, I might go out and be okay because those rough lads and lasses know where the beer is in town, and who would not be getting any if they muck about with me. So, you want to be having a fight, you might go for stroll.”

  I thought about it, and while I’d never been one to back down from fights in the past, it seemed foolish to go looking for them for no real reason. And I didn’t want to be the asshole who murdered a bunch of punks on his first night in town.

  “Noted,” I said. “Thanks.”

  Owen gave a lethargic salute with his mug, and then polished off his ale with a last quaff. In an incredibly swift and smooth motion, he went from drinking to hurling the mug right over my shoulder across the room. There was a hollow thunk from the darkened corner.

  “Ouch!” came a cry.

  “Get your lazy arse down the stairs and into your bed you worthless sack of troll dung!” Owen shouted.

  I watched, bemused, as the young man extricated himself from a young lady. The man went through door, while the lady went upstairs.

  “Evenin’,” Owen said sweetly to the girl as she passed.

  She blushed in response, and ran a little faster up the stairs.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Owen said. “But I thought it time I get to sleep.”

  “Was that—”

  “My worthless spawn? Yes. My son is betrothed to that lovely girl. We are waiting for the solstice afore they get married, but, as her family has a farm a week and a half north of here, she chooses to live and work in the inn. Learn the profession she will have. And she is fantastic. Best serving girl we have. My son, on the other accursed hand, is worthless. Cannot cook. Burns the simplest of foods. Cannot chat or serve drinks. Says it is beneath him. Says he is allergic to horses and hay. So he cannot be around the barn. He thinks to join the Legion. Thinks life there is glory and medals. Shiny swords and shimmering armor, not willing to listen to an old man tell him that this here, this is the easy life. Little does the little lad know. Anyhow, to bed, good sirrah. Sleep well.”

  It was perfectly clear he was shooing me from the dining area and back to my room. I thanked him again for the food, and retreated upstairs.

  Chapter 34

  I hopped into the bed and tried to sleep. Mostly, I just stared at the low wood ceiling, so I finally went through the notifications I’d been ignoring:

  GG! You’ve killed a Human (lvl 5 Bandit Berserker).

  You’ve earned 250 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Human (lvl 4 Bandit).

  You’ve earned 200 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Dwarf (lvl 3 Bandit).

  You’ve earned 150 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed an Elf (lvl 6 Bandit Archer).

  You’ve earned 325 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  Oooh, your skill in Large Weapon Throwing has gone up to lvl 10. Fancy a game of catch? +3% dmg, +5% skill.

  Oh my gosh, shut the front door, you reached level 10 in the skill Large Weapon Throwing! You are now a Novice Large Weapon Thrower! For that, you get 1000 xp!

  Huzzah! Against all odds, you have reached Level 4! You receive 6 attribute points to distribute in the next 36 hours or you lose them. Dare to believe you can survive, and achieve greatness. Or don’t.

  Crap, I thought, and hurriedly looked at my character sheet. The six unassigned points were still there. When had I gone up in level? It must have been after pulling the wagon for the first afternoon. Whatever the case, I still had the points for the moment, so I quickly tossed two points into Dexterity, two into Agility, and two into Charisma.

  Congratulations! Due to hard work, you’ve gained +12 STR!

  Congratulations! Due to hard work, you’ve gained +18 CON!

  Wowza, a trait! Despite pain, despite depleted stamina, despite riding on the cusp of death, you did not give in. You did not waver. You have gained the trait, IRON WILL. Stamina no longer applies to you. What a beast you are.

  Not a bad haul. Apparently nearly killing yourself all day long is a pretty good way to pump up some attributes. Still, I felt like I wasn’t doing quite enough to really make sure I was going to be able to take full advantage of the game I was living in.

  I pulled up my character sheet to look at things and try to make a plan of sorts.

  Montana - Lvl 4 Nothing

  Traits

  Race: Fallen

  Height: 6’3”

  Weight: 280 lbs

  Eye Color: Hazel

  Hair Color: Blonde

  Renown: 0 - No one even knows you exist.

  Statistics

  HP: 239

  STAM: n/a

  MP: 232

  Armor: +24 (Chain Mail)

  Active Effects: None

  Attributes

  Strength: 55

  Agility: 17

  Dexterity: 19

  Constitution: 53

  Wisdom: 13

  Intelligence: 13

  Charisma: 19

  Luck: 27

  Unassigned points: 0

  Skills

  Riding - improvised (LVL 1): You can now ride improvised devices. +5% to handling.

  Falling (LVL 1): You can flail through the air with the best of them. Watch for the sudden stop at the end.

  Animal Handling (LVL 5): You can calm down a domesticated animal, keep a mount from getting spooked, intuit an animal’s intentions, or, if you’re really lucky, tame a wild best.

  Investigate (LVL 1): Now when you don’t know, try and figure it out! +5% to find the hidden, +5% passive perception

  Harvesting (LVL 5): You can pick plants, you can grab fruit, you can cut neat things out of creatures you slaughter. That’ll save the world, right? At Level 5, you are able to harvest common elements with no penalties. +10% successful gathering chance

  Swords (Lvl 3): You can swing sharp objects and likely not hurt yourself. +7% damage. +7% skill.

  Spears (Lvl 4) Remember, the pointy end goes towards the enemy. +8% damage. +8% skill.

  Unarmed Combat (Lvl 9): You can strike with the fist or the foot, and must register your hands as lethal weapons. -13% stamina drain. +13% damage.

  Axes (Lvl 8): You can chop down limbs of trees or men. Or monsters. +12% damage, +12% skill

  Large Weapon Throwing (Lvl 10): Take that massive weapon and throw it away! +13% accuracy, +13% damage

  War Hammers (Lvl 5): Everything IS a nail. +9% damage, -9% stamina drain

  Light Armor (Lvl 3): A little bit of leather goes a long way. +7% dmg reduction, -7% movement penalty

  Abilities

  The Sword of My Enemy is My Sword: You’ve found that, in a pinch, every weapon will do. +1% dmg for each new weapon used in a combat.


  Iron Will: Stamina no longer applies to you. What a beast you are.

  Feats

  None

  Boons

  Powerful Build (Mister Paul) - You are bigger than you look. For all strength roles, you are counted as one size category larger than you actually are.

  Regeneration (Mister Paul) - Outside of combat, your body will repair rather quickly. Given enough time, it’s possible you will heal from nearly any wound.

  Gift of Gab (Mister Paul) - Should you encounter a language you do not understand, as long as you hear at least three words of it, you will understand it, and speak it, perfectly.

  Indicium

  None

  Relationships

  Rumib Pass (destroyed) - Liked

  Languages

  Goblin

  Imperial Common

  Mahrduhmese

  Spells

  Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana) Identify uncommon or lower lifeforms.

  Basic Object Identification (Lvl 1) (costs 1 mana) Identify any non-magical common or lower item.

  Heal Other [lvl 1] (costs 100 mana). Through the use of magic you are able to heal another through touch. Heal 50 Hp.

  Humus [lvl 1] (costs 10 mana). This spell gathers dirt and organic materials, moisture, and bacterial ingredients within one mile/level of the caster and places the mixture anywhere the caster wishes within range. This is humus, the black, enriched soil excellent for growing plants in pots or gardening. Of course, the mage may use it however he wishes, but it is usually for growing things in pots and window boxes. If no such materials are within one mile/level, the spell has no effect.

  I guess I looked good. I mean, I hadn’t seen a single other character sheet, but based on gaming I’d done in the past, I felt pretty reasonable about it. My strength was starting to get away from me, which could be good, could be bad. Regardless, I needed to work on agility and dexterity, or I’d be in trouble. Technically, I needed to work on a bunch of stuff. I was still green in every single skill I had, and I needed to get those up. Especially if I was ever planning on going up against something more than a low-level bandit. And my best skill involved throwing my primary weapon away. I doubted even I’d be able to carry enough battle axes, war hammers, or great swords to make it through an entire fight throwing them.

  With time to kill — I couldn’t sleep — I knew the best thing I could do was start grinding a skill. I pulled a knife out of my pouch, and was about to work on small weapon throwing when I rethought that particular gem of an idea. It’d be a spectacularly dick move to ruin Owen’s walls just because I wanted to get better at knife throwing.

  Instead, I looked over the room, trying to think of something I could practice without damaging anything. Or disturbing anyone else. I got out of bed and looked at the desk. Seemed sturdy. I stood flat footed, and jumped up on to the desk. Not super hard, but there was a real challenge do it, making sure I didn’t catch a toe and defenestrate myself.

  Jump after jump, my quads were starting to burn a bit. Then it happened.

  Cool Beans, you’ve learned the skill Jump. You can leap, skip, perhaps even hop. Perhaps with enough practice, you’ll be able to leap tall buildings with a single bound. But let’s not hold our breath. +1% to distance, +1% to height.

  Boom. New skill.

  By the time the sun rose over the hills to the east and shone down on the village, I’d done enough jumping. I’d managed to get it all the way to level 6, and though I couldn’t quite make it to the top of the dresser, I was getting closer. And, I was feeling the cabin fever. I wanted to do something outside. I practically bounded down the stairs into the tavern. Cleeve sat at the bar talking to Owen. Some of the guards and drivers were scattered around, eating their breakfasts. Everyone had a warm smile for me. I gave my awkward wave.

  Cleeve looked up and motioned for me to join him. As I walked over, Owen whispered something before sliding away and out a door behind the bar.

  “You got something, boss?” I asked.

  “I do,” he replied. “Before anything else, did you really mean to pay for everyone’s rooms last night?”

  I blinked a few times and frowned, thinking. “Maybe?”

  “You gave him a gold. Rooms here are a silver. I was going to cover the cost, but—”

  “No, that’s fine, I meant to,” I lied. What’s money anyway, right?

  “Very generous. A fair amount needs to get done in town today. Most of it rote boring stuff that a man of your skills is not exactly suited for.”

  “No wagon pulling?” I asked with a slight smile.

  “No, not for the moment. We are done with wagons for a spell.”

  I must have looked very confused because Cleeve just laughed at me.

  “From here to Osterstadt, there’s no roads,” he said. “But there is a lake.”

  “There’s a lake. Is—”

  “Sometimes I forget that you have no idea of the geography here. Saumiers borders a rather large lake.”

  “So, boats?”

  “You leave that to me, Montana. For today, I need you to work with Nikolai.”

  “Training?”

  “No.”

  “Then wha—”

  “Just ask Nikolai. He has the details, not I.”

  “Got it, boss,” I said, turning to look for Nikolai.

  “Oh, and Montana,” Cleeve suddenly asked, “did you really ask Owen to adopt you?”

  I shrugged. “Seemed like a potentially good idea.”

  Cleeve shook his head and turned back to his breakfast.

  There was a whistle, and suddenly Nikolai was standing next to the exit of the inn.

  “We are off, rook,” he said, turning and leaving the place before I could respond.

  Chapter 35

  The morning air was crisp, fresh, and amazing. I took in deep lungfuls, feeling invigorated by the whole world around me. Hoarfrost hung on the edges of leaves in the shade. It smelled like fall.

  Nikolai was already over by the wagons, glaring at me for doing such ridiculous things like smelling the world. Darius was already out with the horses, brushing them, checking their wounds, that sort of thing. Nikolai pulled his armor out of the wagon and checked it over, pulling some of the straps and making sure everything was ready to go. Then, he pulled it on. I hopped in to help with some of the harder to reach buckles. He had a pretty impressive set: banded iron cuirass, big metal pauldrons, a chunky metal collar thingy—

  “Can you, I guess, tell me the name of the armor bits you’ve got?” I asked.

  He blinked at me a few times, and then sighed.

  “Helm,” he said, pointing to his head. He had a full face cover with a large T cut out of the front for eyes and nose and mouth. “Gorget.” The chunky metal thing around his neck. It went down both his chest and back and covered some of his clavicles. “Cuirass.” The banded metal bit covering his torso. “Pauldron.” His shoulders. “Vambrace.” Forearms. “Gauntlets.” Gloves.

  He took a deep breath. “You want all the bits I don’t have on?”

  “Sure.”

  “Greaves cover the lower leg. Cuisse covers the thigh. Sabaton goes on the foot. Sometimes you’ll have a Poleyn to cover the knee. The Besagew covers the armpit. Rerebrace covers upper arms. Couter covers over the elbow. Faults go to hips. Plackart is extra belly cover. And there is more. Lots more. Little bits and bobs of metal to keep you safe from the smallest little poke, and all pointless if you do not know what the fuck you are doing. All of that, the bits and bobs, is what comes with a full set of plate given to a noble puke so they can ride down peons and goblins and return home in one piece covered in glory. No one I know has full plate, because it is fucking expensive. You should concern yourself with this,” he held up a shirt of chainmail that looked to cover torso and arms. “Hauberk. Probably all you get for a spell.”

  “Are there pants?”

  He looked a me for a moment, then dug into the storage portion of the wagon. He push
ed a bunch of stuff around, and then pulled a pair of chain mail pants out and held them up.

  “Chausses,” he said. “Put ‘em on.”

  “Thanks, Nikolai.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I suppose today is about learning.”

  “Yay?”

  He shoved the mail onto me. “Time is wasting.”

  Chain Mail Hauberk

  Item Type: Common

  Item Class: Medium Armor

  Material: Iron

  Armor: +16

  Durability: 80/100

  Weight: 44 lbs

  Requirements: Str 10

  Description: Interlocking iron rings designed to stop slashes, stabs, and comfortable sleep, chain mail has been a staple armor since shortly after the invention of swords.

  I pulled the armor on while he strapped belts and scabbards about his body. He gave me my large axe and a small sword.

  Shortsword

  Item Type: Common

  Item Class: One-handed Melee

  Material: Steel

  Damage: 7-12 (Slashing)

  Durability: 14/20

  Weight: 2.8 lbs

  Requirements: Dex 8

  Description: A straight-bladed sword having a cruciform hilt with a grip for one-handed use.

  I gave the sword a few practice swings, just getting a feel for it.

  “Put that in the scabbard already and stop looking like a fucking twit twirling about,” Nikolai snapped.