This seemed to satisfy the elder dwarves, and each of them gave a brief nod of acknowledgement after sharing some looks between themselves. Hammerfist spoke first.
“It has been centuries since me people have seen a livin’ Battleborne. If the legends be true, ye likely be destined fer great things, Maximilian. I forgive yer accidental slight to me clan, and offer ye one hundred o’ me clan’s troops to help ye hold the city until ye speak with me cousin.”
Redstone added, “And a hundred o’ the Red Hills.” Stonebinder just nodded, implying he’d do the same.
Steelbender said “Rockbreaker will remain here as well, with his company. The engineers that survived yer trip through the tunnel will begin repairs on the gates and close the tunnels. Can’t have the greys thinkin’ it’d be easy to take back their city.” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the kobolds who were happily carving up the grey dwarf bodies strewn across the hall. “Since it be yer city now, I suggest ye invite the kobolds to stay a while. Ye don’t want em as enemies, as I’m sure ye’ve seen. And they’ll be wantin to celebrate with a feast.”
This time Spellslinger laughed heartily. “Grey dwarf stew! I recommend ye give ‘em limited access to the grey’s cellars, as well. They’ll be wantin’ to wash it down with ale!”
Max smiled at the mage. “That seems like wise advice. Thank you, all of you. I accept your offers. I was a simple soldier in my past life, and know nothing of running a city, or… hosting… kobolds.” Max stared at the lizardlike creatures for a moment. “Do they speak our language?”
“Not all of them, but aye, the leaders will understand ye well enough.” Steelbender advised. Come, I’ll introduce ye to their general. Ye can conclude yer business here, then old Puckerface there can open a portal to Darkholm.”
*****
Less than fifteen minutes later, Max was standing in a courtyard in Darkholm, watching as battle-weary dwarves filed through the shining silver portal behind him. Dalia grabbed his elbow and led him into a nearby building that turned out to be a barracks. She pushed him into the community bathroom and said “Clean yerself up before ye see me king.”
Max quickly stepped into one of the showers with all his gear still on, effectively hosing himself down to get clean of all the blood and gore. Then he stripped off the armor and sweaty clothes to take a real shower.
Five minutes later he was following Steelbender and the others into Darkholm’s great hall, where Ironhand sat upon his throne. He laughed when he saw Max enter with the others.
“Maximilian! Ye been busy since I see’d ya last!” he hopped off the throne and approached Max, who took a knee and bowed his head. Ironhand chastised him, smiling as he did so. “Come now! Ye be a king! No kneeling in front o’ yer peers!”
Max looked up, noted the look on Ironhand’s face, and relaxed. He’d expected harsh words and repercussions. “I’m no king, your majesty. Not really. This was all sort of one big accident.”
“Aye, so I’ve been told. Still, ye meant no harm, and ye’ve done me and my kin a great service. I’ve a proposal for ye, Maximilian. Will ye listen?”
“Of course, your majesty.” Max felt a twinge of nervousness, but mostly relief at the kind words from the king.
“Come, let us talk.” Ironhand motioned for the other clan representatives to follow him, and they retired to a study just off the great hall. The dwarves took seats in cushioned chairs that were much too small for Max, who was content to sit cross-legged on the floor. Mugs of ale were handed to each of them, and a platter of roasted meat and bread was set on a table in the center of the group. “Eat! Drink! We’ve won a great victory this day! That infected ogre’s arse Agnor has been a thorn in our side for a century or more!” He raised his mug, and the others joined him.
When they’d all had something to eat and drink, Ironhand leaned back in his chair and addressed Max.
“Nogroz be too far from Darkholm fer me to annex it as part o’ the city. And it be too close fer me to be comfortable with it remainin’ a separate kingdom, at least fer now. Ye can’t guarantee that ye won’t lose it to the greys, or goblins, or any other group o’ nasties that might decide to take it from ye. Which would leave me with the same problem that I just sacrificed more than seven hundred dwarven lives to solve.” He stared hard at Max.
“I agree, completely. I’m open to reaching a resolution that benefits us all.” Max tried to sound friendly and agreeable without being a pushover. Dwarves respected strength, and loved to haggle, after all.
“I propose that ye agree to make the city a protectorate. Ye remain the owner and ruler of the city, but it’ll be a symbolic position fer now. Despite bein a Battleborne, ye haven’t yet gained the knowledge or power to run a kingdom, or even a small city. So we’ll help ye run it. A small portion o’ the city’s income, say one percent, will be yours to do with what ye please. Another ten percent will be divided amongst meself and me cousins, the rest goin’ to the city treasury fer normal upkeep and expenses. Meself and each o’ me cousins will provide troops fer the defense o’ the city, and guards to enforce the laws within the walls. They’ll be paid from city taxes just as if they were yer own. And we’ll allow merchants and crafters to take up residence, with your approval, to help rebuild and grow the city.” The king paused, gauging Max’s response.
Max, for his part, had been doing his best to keep a poker face despite the excitement building within him.
“When ye’ve had more time on our world, and ye’ve grown in both power and wisdom, we’ll cede the city back to you, and you’ll be free to run it as yer own kingdom, with promises o’ peace between us o’ course.”
The first question that entered Max’s mind was, “How will you measure my… readiness to assume the throne for real?”
The other dwarves looked at each other, and a few suggestions were put forth. After a minute or so, Ironhand suggested. “We’ll meet here again, one year from today. We’ll discuss yer progress, assess yer strength and knowledge, and take a vote. If ye be deemed not yet worthy, we’ll continue to meet each year until that changes.”
“And, I will have input as to how the city is run? Its laws, trade agreements, and such?”
All the dwarves nodded at each other. Ironhand seemed pleased that Max was showing such an interest. “Aye, it’d be good practice for ye. We’ll establish a council of elders to advise ye, and to run the city’s day to day operation on yer behalf.”
“I still have a quest from Regin to kill orcs. Don’t want to put that off too long.” Max liked the idea of having councilors to handle things. He had little interest in politics or logistics. Just to satisfy the need to push back at the dwarves a bit, he asked, “What would you estimate my one percent of the city’s income to be in the first year?”
The dwarves all laughed. Hammerfist spoke up. “It be a small city, but there be at least one mine that we know of. If ye fill the shops quickly with merchants and crafters, a year’s income fer ye might be as much as ten thousand gold.”
Max blinked. He had intended to push for two percent, but now that just seemed greedy. His mind raced for some other aspect over which he could haggle. A risky idea came to mind, and he decided to go for it.
“As you may know, I’m a chimera. Half of my bloodline comes from monster races. I know the dwarves have an ancient hatred for the greys, which I now share. But in my short time on this world, I have made friends with a goblin tribe that lives not far from here. And it may be that my troll blood allows me to make alliances with a troll tribe at some point. So I would propose that my city be an open city, with friendly members of the so-called monster races living alongside dwarves, humans, elves, and the other races I’ve noticed here in Darkholm.”
There was some cursing, and an angry shout from Stonebinder. Max held up his hands. “Please, hear me out. I would make the laws apply equally to all races, and penalties for harming other citizens or visitors, whatever race they may be, would be severe. The city would be neutral g
round, a safe place for trade between races that would normally murder each other on sight.”
There was more grumbling, but it was much less enthusiastic. Ironhand stroked his beard thoughtfully, looking at each of the others in turn, waiting for their reactions. All but Stonebinder eventually agreed.
“We be willing to give it a try.” Ironhand spoke slowly, considering his words carefully. “The kobolds technically be a monster race, yet we’ve had peace with the local clan fer decades. And today they helped rid us o’ the hated greys. So there be a good precedent. But be warned, Maximilian. If yer monsters rise up and cause trouble in yer city, we’ll crush ye just as we did the greys.”
“Fair enough.” Max bowed his head to the king, then offered smiles to the others. “And thank you.” He gave Stonebinder a significant look, causing the others to chuckle. “I look forward to a long and friendly relationship with all of you.”
*****
Max spent the evening in a spacious guest suite at Ironhand’s invitation. They couldn’t have even a figurehead king sleeping in a tiny room on the apprentice’s level. A valet requested Max’s armor and dirty clothes, taking them away to be cleaned and repaired. A celebration was scheduled for the following evening, which was fine with Max. He was mentally drained from the day’s excitement.
In the morning he was introduced to six dwarven elders as candidates for his council positions. Max got the distinct impression that the word candidates was just a formality, and that they would take up the positions regardless of whether he approved. There was at least one from each clan, and after sharing breakfast with them and talking to each, he discovered that he liked them all. Each of them had different backgrounds. A couple were merchants, one was a retired general, another was a mining engineer. Predictably, one was a master smith. And the last was a retired chamberlain who had served Ironhand’s father, the previous king.
At the conclusion of the meal, Max formally offered them positions as city councilors, and they each accepted. There was a brief discussion of their salaries, and a promise to meet again the following day to discuss the laws and basic needs of the city. Max was looking forward to it, getting excited by the prospect of owning and operating, at least in part, his own kingdom.
After breakfast he spent some time back in his quarters with Red. He reviewed the loot he had received from the battle. Other than the crown and hammer, he’d received mostly the standard grey dwarf gear, a few hundred gold, silver, and copper coins. But there were a few interesting drops.
The first was a badly battered set of armor belonging to Agnor. It was plate armor, and obviously too small for him. Max considered selling it, but decided to hold onto it at least until he met with Regin to turn in his orc quest. He might be able to convince the god of crafting to modify the armor to fit him.
Next came four soul gems, one from each of the elite guards Max had killed. He was initially confused, until Red filled him in. “It looks like the guards were not simple grey dwarves. They were summoned grey dwarf spirits in enhanced bodies and armor imbued with magic, powered by these gems. Upon their deaths, their souls returned to the gems. If you were to learn summoning magic, or find a summoner for hire, you could bind them to your service.”
“Oh, I’m totally doing that. Those guys were pretty scary. I don’t suppose we looted their armor, as well?” Max was disappointed when Red shook her head no.
The next loot item was a bag of diamonds, each about the size of Max’s thumbnail. He stared at them for a moment, then asked Red. “Ironhand mentioned that the city had a mine. Is it… a diamond mine?”
“Maybe?” Red shrugged as if it was no concern of hers. “Open up your city page and find out.”
Max did just that, placing the crown on his head and excitedly concentrating on the word City to bring up the page the original notification had referred to. The amount of information that came up was staggering. There were dozens of sub-tabs listed, including Resources, Population, Taxation, Structures, Planning, Defenses, Trade, Production, Reputation, Alliances, Laws, and Expansion, each of which had sub-tabs of their own.
Rubbing his hands together, Max opened the first main tab, Resources, and dove in. Seeking out the information on the mine first, he was disappointed to find that it was not a diamond mine. It was simply classified as a generic mine that, when he opened up the Yield sub-tab, showed that it offered metals from copper to mithril (in tiny quantities) as well as emeralds, amethysts, rubies, and the occasional diamond. Max thought that the diamonds he’d looted from Agnor must have been the results of several years’ haul.
Max also found a second mine, which had only just been opened. There was a single vein of silver, and two of copper. If it was anything like the other mine, Max would be able to assign some miners and greatly increase his city’s income.
Feeling hopeful, Max perused the other tabs. There were less than two hundred structures altogether within the city walls. The majority were shops with residences either in back rooms or upper floors. He found six taverns, three of which were also inns with a combined fifty or so rooms for rent. There were a few dozen small individual homes, two apartment structures, and ten larger homes that had been designated as merchant-owned. Max spotted two large barracks on either side of the main gate, and a third near the back gate that led to a tunnel running deeper into the mountain. In all, the barracks could house six hundred troops. Many more than Max would have at his disposal, at least to start with.
He found a complicated water and waste distribution system, briefly confirming that it was one hundred percent operational before moving on. Max hadn’t actually seen any of the city except the hall he’d fought in, and the corridor just outside the door, so this was all fascinating to him. He discovered a market square just outside the inner keep’s gate, with a fountain at the center. There were three lower levels to the keep, one of which was a grouping of prison cells that also featured a torture chamber.
After an hour of perusing the information about his city, he noticed the name at the top of the main screen was blinking. When he focused on it, there was a message offering the opportunity to change the name of the city. Smiling to himself, he altered the name to one he’d used for his own stronghold in a game when he was a teenager. When he clicked on the confirmation of the change, a message went out.
***Regional Alert!***
The city kingdom formerly known as Nogroz has been re-named by King Maximilian, and shall henceforth be known as Stormhaven!
Chapter 16
Max paid a visit to Fitchstone after lunch, spending a little time answering questions about the battle, and the new city. He offered to sell all the grey armor and weapons to the merchant, but the old dwarf shook his head. “The demand has fallen, as have the prices. Ye would be better off fillin’ the armory in yer new city.”
That hadn’t even occurred to Max, and he realized he needed to change his thinking pretty drastically going forward. He wasn’t just looking out for himself anymore. He had a city full of people to protect, to provide for. Or, he soon would.
Next he went to his favorite bakery, which was also the only one he’d visited in the city, to purchase more supplies. On a whim, he tried to tempt the baker to move to Stormhaven, or at least open a second shop. The baker was firmly against moving, but said he had a nephew working in the shop that might be ready to open one of his own.
Max beamed at the dwarf. “As long as he knows your secret recipes, he’s most welcome! I’ll be sure and assign him a shop near the inner gate, so that I don’t have far to walk when a craving hits me!”
He took a little time to shop the market again, this time walking into an inscriptionist’s shop that displayed several spell books and scrolls. Not really knowing what he was looking for, he simply walked up to the gnome behind the counter. She was barely three feet tall, with large ears, bright blue hair, and a cute button nose between oversized blue eyes. “Good afternoon, I was hoping you could help me?”
“I can help
you with whatever you need, big fella.” She practically purred at him, leaning forward slightly over the counter toward him.
“I uhm… thank you. I’m looking to learn spells. I’m afraid I don’t know much about scrolls. When you buy a spell scroll, does it teach you the spell, or just activate the spell?
She leaned back, slightly disappointed. “Well, both. Not both from the same scroll, but there are scrolls that teach, and scrolls that are one-time use spells.”
“What teaching scrolls do you have? Or, books… I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name? I’m Max.” Max looked around at the hundreds of books and scrolls.
“I know who you are, King Max. The whole city knows you. My name is Josephine, Josie to my friends.” She winked at him. “We have dozens of teaching scrolls and books, at least one from each school of magic. Are you looking for something in… particular?” The suggestive tone of her voice kept Max a little off balance. He tried not to picture himself with this tiny yet aggressive creature. It somehow felt disloyal so soon after Thelonia’s death.
“Well, offensive spells are good. Or healing magic? Or… I really don’t even know what magic is available, or what magic can do.”
The gnomess thought it over briefly, then began to pull items from the shelves behind her. She kept scrambling up and down a ladder that slid side to side between the different stacks, and Max did his best not to stare at her cute little butt. Still, when she turned and caught him staring, her smile widened even further. Hopping off the ladder, then up onto a box or something that brought her back up to counter height, she displayed her wares.
“This scroll will teach you a lightning spell called Shock. It’ll zap a single target at the first level, but if you increase your skill, it’ll add targets with each level. Does damage and stuns them, most of the time.” She poked his arm playfully and made a zzzzzt! sound.
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