by Eric Ugland
Instead, I moved through the menus until I got to HOLDING, which was now in color. I selected it.
Congratulations on having a holding, The Dukedom of Coggeshall. You currently have zero towns in your holding. You currently have two complete structures and two incomplete structures in your holding. Currently, less than 25% of the population follows you, thus, all within your holding receive the benefits of your abilities.
Note: You must choose your leadership path.
1. Autocrat - You are the greatest resource you have. Everything should be designed to help you. That’s how others might help themselves. You receive 20% of your followers experience points. Morale penalties doubled.
2. Warlord — War, what’s it good for? Absolutely everything. It’s time to go to war. Soldiers sworn to you do 5% more damage, but crops grow 5% slower. When at war, morale bonuses doubled. When not at war, morale penalties doubled.
3. Builder — Build me up, buttercup. Your holding is more efficient working with raw resources. Structures require 10% fewer materials.
I sighed, and punched the ground next to me. Making so many choices was exhausting, not to mention stressful. This was not the game I wanted to play. I was supposed to get away from everything, to just exist in a quiet corner of the world, and maybe occasionally help out a neighbor if they really needed it and they could find me. I was angling to be the angler in the woods kids told stories about. But left alone. Instead, I had to decide what kind of leader I wanted to be.
There was really only one choice that made any real sense: Builder. Sure, I could probably do pretty well as a warlord, but I was already tired of killing things. And I couldn’t see any long-term benefits to constantly being at war.
I chose Builder.
You have chosen Builder. Are you sure? This choice cannot be changed until your holding has gained five levels.
Shit. My holding had levels. Games within games in this world.
I was sure, and I selected yes. I needed to focus on building stuff. To be fair, when I’d played RTS games in the past, I’d definitely been the type to turtle and build a shit-ton of defenses before slowly heading out to conquer the rest of the world. It just wasn’t necessarily the way I’d built myself, or my character, in this world. Here, I was a one-man wrecking crew.
That out of the way, I looked at the information in front of me.
Dukedom of Coggeshall
Lvl 1 Dukedom
Mood: Hopeful
Morale: Low
Your holding has a population of 58 followers, representing less than 25% of the total population of your holding. Caution: if this is not brought above 25% in six months, your holding will lose a level and shrink.
16 Dwarves.
26 Battenti
22 Humans
2 Lutra
2 Elves
1 Kistune-Girl
1 Woch
1 Fallen
You have filled no positions.
You have no towns.
You have built two structures.
Longhouse
Structure Type: Trash
Structure Class: Shelter
Material: Wood and cloth
Durability: Low
Description: A longhouse is a general residential structure used to offer communal living space and protection from the elements.
Effects: Decreased morale for anyone forced to sleep inside. Current overcrowding exacerbates the morale penalty. Population growth penalty. Worker efficiency penalty. Poxivity penalty.
Upgrades: None Available due to structure type.
Barn
Structure Type: Common
Structure Class: Animal Shelter
Material: Wood and stone
Durability: Medium
Description: A barn is a structure designed to shelter animals.
Benefits: Provided the barn is not overcrowded, animals left inside at night gain increased healing rates and increased birthing rates.
Upgrades: Available but not purchased or installed. Build additional buildings to unlock more details.
Resources
No current storehouse.
Well, there we go. Plenty of information. Lots more stuff to keep track of. And here I was, a guy who hated keeping track of things. I shook my head, trying to figure out how to get out of the situation I’d found myself in. I was just so far out of my element. Why should anyone follow me?
And yet, that’s where I was. I didn’t want to sink into a hole where I’d defeat myself. I’d done that once, on Earth, and it hadn’t worked out so well. This was the spot I was in, this was what I had to do, and I just had to do my very best.
I had to—
Something hit my face.
I opened my eyes.
Something else hit my face.
I scrambled to my feet and saw Ragnar sitting opposite me, also against a tree.
He had a handful of acorns, and was in the act of throwing another one my way. I watched as it arced toward me and bonked me right on the nose.
“Dinner time,” he said, then hopped to his feet and walked away.
I got the feeling something was bugging him.
Chapter 60
Dinner in the camp was a subdued affair. We ate stew made mostly of vegetables and a small amount of meat, which was tasty and flavorful, but nothing I could identify. No one talked. There was a lot more morose looking around — staring into the fire, looking off into the darkness — than actual conversation happening. I wondered if this was the fault of the morale dip caused by the longhouse. Finishing the stew, I walked over to the longhouse, and I took a look inside.
It was worse than I remembered. There were bedrolls everywhere, save a small aisle down the middle and the area around the small stove at the far end. There was a distinct stench to the place, unwashed sweat. And the roof rustled in the mild breeze. It had to be hell during a storm.
A young woman edged by me and made her way down the house until she got to her spot. She looked at me, and I smiled as soon as we made eye contact.
She looked away.
I walked out of the longhouse and found Nikolai.
He gave me a look, like he wanted to eat his dinner in peace.
“I looked into the, uh, taking of the dukedom,” I said.
“At which point you discovered an issue?”
“Yeah, we’re up against a time limit.”
“For?”
“Getting more than 25% of the population in the dukedom to be followers.”
“Do you know what it is currently?”
“Under 25%.”
“That is the extent of your knowledge?”
“Yep.”
“So it might be 24 or less than one.”
“Correct.”
“And our time limit?”
“Six months. Six months and then we lose a town level. Or settlement level. Not, like, an individual level.”
“And I assume we are at level one?”
“Yeah.”
“If holdings follow the rest of the gods’ games, there is no level zero. You will lose the holding.”
“You think I can just claim a new holding?”
“I doubt it is anything that simple.”
“Never is.”
“Six months is not a long time…” He took a bite and chewed. And chewed. Then he swallowed with a little difficulty. “I think this meat might have turned. Anyway, we have two possibilities here. One, we convert everything in the dukedom to follow you. Two, we bring in more people to follow you.”
“I don’t exactly know many people, so I think option one is where we can, you know, be proactive.”
Nikolai scooped one last spoonful into his mouth.
“I have a few things I might set in motion,” he said. “But this is a real issue we must face and overcome. Be prepared.”
Then he walked away.
I looked around, noticing several people pointedly not looking at me. So I just took a seat by the fire. I was miffed, tired of everyone
being afraid of me, but not exactly knowing what I could do to make anything better. So I joined in on the hottest trend taking over my holding: I stared at the fire.
“Evening,” came a soothing voice.
I looked over to see Lady Eliza Northwoods sitting next to me. She had a small glass of wine in one hand, and a bowl of stew in the other. She held the glass towards me.
“Mind holding this whilst I eat?” she asked.
“Uh, sure,” I said, taking the glass as carefully as I could, worried I’d accidentally break it.
“This is quite the adventure for me,” she said, taking a dainty bite of the stew.
“Yeah,” I replied, feeling ever so eloquent.
“I have so many questions for you,” she said.
“Ask away,” I said.
She took her glass of wine so she could sneak a sip, then handed it back to me. Her eyes had a sparkle to them, like she was always just about to smile. When she actually did, phew, those eyes lit up.
“Before you ask me a question,” I started, “perhaps you’d let me ask you one.”
Her eyes went a little wide, and she started to say something, but then realized she had a mouthful of stew. She nodded, and swallowed.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Me? My family?”
“Uh, yes to both.”
“My family is Imperial as far back as we can track. We were, well, I suppose you could call us horse traders. Originally at least. And we still are, to a large degree. My great grandfather was gifted a barony for providing the Empress, at the time, with her mount.”
“She must have loved that horse,” I said.
She blushed, and suppressed a giggle. “Oh, my lord, you are scandalous.”
I was confused, and I started to open my mouth to say something, but I think Eliza realized I knew nothing about the Empress or her, uh, mount.
“Oh, dear, you had no idea?”
“None. Is there—”
“It is only a rumor. Vile gossip really. But there were many things said about Empress Cordia and her affection for her stallions.”
“Ah,” I said, stopping myself before I blabbered on about Catherine the Great. “So I’m guessing you grew up near the capital?”
“Yes, our ancestral home is within a day’s ride of the capital. My uncles are still there, maintaining the family farm while my father takes a stab at being a count.”
“A gift from the emperor?”
“No. From, well, perhaps from the next emperor. His royal highness, Prince Valamir Glaton.”
“Have you met him?”
“Valamir? Gods, no. I have seen him from a distance. He and my father have been business associates in the past, and I believe this title is a gift for my father’s aid in some regard. In what capacity, exactly, I cannot say.”
“Northwoods. Any chance that’s because your lands are to the north of the capital?”
She laughed lightly. “They are. And they are quite wooded. Our horses are known for their ability to run through trees. Smaller stock, but incredible stamina and agility. A better hunting horse is not bred in the empire, I will bet any amount on it.”
I held up my hands. “No need, I believe you.”
“You do not seem much of a rider, my lord.”
“It has not been, uh, among my favorite activities in Vuldranni so far.”
“Perhaps you have not had the right teacher.”
“Sure. That’s probably it.”
“Perhaps we might go riding some time.”
“I’d love that. Some time when there aren’t goblins about?”
She thwocked me with her spoon. “How can you be so cavalier about goblins?”
“Because they’re small and easy to kill?”
“But they swarm. They breed like roaches, they infest any space they can crawl into, and they are able to survive off anything remotely identifiable as food. They are lecherous and cannibalistic, keeping their victims alive for amusement and to keep the meat fresh longer. They do unspeakable acts to anyone and everything.”
“You’re really afraid of them, aren’t you?”
“I would not say I am afraid of one goblin. I imagine one goblin would run away. But there is a saying: if you see one goblin, there are a hundred still hidden.”
“I think that saying needs a little work.”
“It means—”
“Oh I got what it means. Just, you know, a saying is supposed to be quick, pithy. That was a tad cumbersome.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. I was failing at being an idiot. Who would have thought that’d be a problem?
“Anyway, I haven’t much, uh, formal education, so I was wondering if you could tell me about the places outside the empire.”
“Oh? Where do you hail from?”
“It’s a place to the far north, uh, east of here, on the other side of Mahrduhm.”
“So you know of Mahrduhm?”
“Only the slightest bit. I was more, uh, in the mountains than amongst the peoples.”
“It certainly seems like Mahrduhm is one of the most interesting countries outside of Glaton these days. They have been making quite a few, shall we call them diplomatic moves?”
“Sure. Call them whatever, I don’t know what they’ve been up to, really.”
“They have been quite busy lately. Overtaking and exploiting some of the smaller nations in the area. Had you asked me two years ago who the Empire might fear, Mahrduhm would not have been on that list. But now—”
“Who would have?”
“Been on the list? Oh, there has been some discussion of the Centaur to the north. They lack easy entrance to the Empire, but they are exceedingly numerous, and have squelched any attempts for anyone else to take even the smallest foothold in their lands. My father suspected the Centaur nation might march through Mahrduhm all the way around the Wellsatch Mountains that mark our Eastern border. Then they could attack us through the Lannerhorn Plains.”
“That seems like quite the trek.”
“It is an immense distance. Some think that is the only thing which has kept our two nations from conflict.”
“But you?”
She gave me the slightest of smiles, as if she was unused to people asking her opinion on things.
“I think the Centaur are happy where they are. I doubt they are as expansionist as we are, and as long as we remain on this side of the mountains, they will leave us be.”
“You think our borders will remain here?”
“Not for a minute. The Empire lives to expand. But back to your last question, the Empire used to be most concerned with the Kingdom of Pheddaetis. A young king rose to power, and he was incredibly charismatic, strangely powerful, and his people rallied under him. He was so compelling, the neighboring kingdom joined his without blood being shed.”
“But?”
“The king died in a hunt. His queen has shut herself in the castle, and, by all reports, has died as well. The kingdom has fallen apart without the king, and is mostly just a collection of warlords bent on destroying the very country in their competition to take the crown.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Does it?”
“No, I just, I mean, it sounds pretty horrific really.”
“From the little news that has come out of Pheddaetis recently, it is, indeed, horrific there now. Then there are the Carchedons. They are across the sea, but possess an empire nearly equal in size to our own. Every few years, they invade us, and a year or so later we invade them. Occasionally a city is taken, then there’s a great siege, and the city is retaken. It’s a sad and bloody affair, but it appears to be the cycle we are forced to live within.”
“You just fight back and forth? Seems pointless.”
“I believe it is pointless. But we cannot abide them and they cannot abide us. So we are locked in conflict until something changes.”
“Saved by the sea?”
“I suppose.”
“Have yo
u ever been there?”
“To Carchedon? No. My father has. During one of the peaceful spells, he traded some horses there. It is a minor secret,” she said with a sly smile, looking around to see if anyone was listening to us, “but my father brought back some Carchedonian mounts. My uncles have been evaluating them for a few years, breeding them and studying them, trying to decide if they are worth bringing into our breeding stock.”
“You’re really into horses.”
“It is the family business.”
“Are there horses out here?”
“Wild ones? Perhaps. I know if you head north, you will hit the Great Plains, and there you will find wild horses. As well as a host of other incredible creatures.”
“Do you ever think there are better animals than horses to ride?”
“If you ask my father, he will call you a fool, that there is no other creature meant to be ridden but the horse. He is utterly devoted to the horse. But my uncle, Willam, he believes different. He and I are looking at alternatives. Willam thinks we could tame and breed the pegasus, have flying mounts. But I have my doubts. I feel there is more to be gained looking at some of the more armored beasts. Hunting is where our fortune was made, but war will be where our names are cemented into legend.”
“You have plans.”
“I do,” she said, taking her glass from me and draining her wine. “Plans which I would like—”
“Lady Eliza,” a voice called out.
I looked over and saw a heavily armored woman looking directly at my dinner companion.
Eliza stood to address the woman.
“I was just speaking to our host,” Eliza said.
“It is time for you to return to your tent, my lady,” the armored woman said.
“You will have to forgive me,” Eliza said.
I stood up. “Nothing to forgive,” I said.
She handed me her bowl, spoon, and glass. “I fear my chaperone can be overprotective at times.”