Gentleman's Wars 2: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series

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Gentleman's Wars 2: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series Page 9

by Andrew Karevik


  “What makes us unique?” I asked.

  Seamus smiled wide at that. “Excellent question! It is one that you and I must answer together. My goal is not to provide you with generic advice, but rather to give you custom-tailored recommendations based on your goals and ideals. We must not simply become unique by happenstance. We must work to set ourselves apart from the others out there. To make a name for one’s House takes more than a mere pendant and some ambition. It takes planning and purpose.”

  “Well, I like the sound of that,” I said, strolling up and shaking the man’s hand. Now this was an advisor! Someone completely focused on helping me achieve my own goals, rather than simply give out banalities and platitudes.

  “So, what brings you here? And would I be out of my bounds to request some tea from your manservant?” Seamus asked as he gestured towards the corner of the library that he had turned into an office. A large desk had been set up, allowing us to sit across from each other, for the mega table in the center was simply too long to have a proper face-to-face meeting.

  “No trouble at all, my good man,” Sigmund said, bowing and taking his leave as quickly as he could. No doubt the burning incense and mildew smell was making him woozy. I was certainly feeling buzzed, though I was somewhat used to noxious fumes having worked with them in my lab on a near daily basis.

  I was quick to explain my situation to my new Magistrate. He eagerly listened as I explained the protectorate status, the marriage ceremony, the secrecy of Esha and my new wives. The man did not laugh, nor did he joke about the situation. There was no irreverence on his part. He took it all quite seriously and as I spoke, I began to feel a bit lighter about the situation. There was something soothing about dumping all your fears and problems on a person whose job was to make issues like these go away.

  “So that is the situation,” I said, finishing my long story and slumping back in my chair. Sigmund, who had arrived a few minutes ago, handed me some tea to sip on while the Magistrate thought this over.

  “Let’s talk about each concern, one at a time,” Seamus said. “First and foremost, I agree. You were tricked. The Kinteli Matriarch took full advantage of you and bound you to their sacred laws without your explicit consent. We have grounds for suing her for a host of reasons. Marriage by trickery is more common than you think, especially since alliances gain tremendous power through marriage.”

  “Perfect!” I said, clasping my hands together. “So I can divorce?”

  The Magistrate sharply drew breath through his teeth and sat back. “Well…it’s a bit more complicated than that. How should I put this? The elven race is dying out. It has been for quite some time.”

  “I saw plenty of elves at the Kinteli Manor,” I replied. “Nearly a hundred.”

  “What you saw was probably the entire clan. Most elves who survived destruction from the homeland are related to one another. And without fellow clans to marry into and produce viable offspring, the elves are stuck without ways to reproduce. Hence why they adopted polygamy as a standard, in order to try and stave off the destruction. A non-clan elf may marry as many as he can in order to ensure the population keeps up. But, with anti-elf sentiment cropping up and the difficulty of travel for various clans…the species is facing extinction as a whole.”

  “Surely there must be some way to solve this,” I said.

  “There is, if I’m not mistaken,” Seamus replied. He stood up and walked over to a bookcase that looked as if it had been recently renovated, or at least repainted. There was an entire law codex lining the shelves; they must have been brought in by the Magistrate himself. After a moment of sorting through the books, he produced one volume and dropped it on the desk with a loud thud, causing Sigmund to open his eyes wide, interrupting his dozing off.

  “Here it is. Ah yes, the Elf-Wife Act. Ahem, the Sovereign State of Velicia recognizes that marriage is a sacred bond between two people. The Stars have ordained such a bond in order to limit the influence of families and reduce conflicts within houses. However, such bonds are restricted only to humans. As the elven homeland has been devastated and the population of elves reduced to near extinction, the Crown recognizes their plea for aid. As such, the Elf-Wife Act will allow all human males to take upon elven wives, as many as provided by a willing clan, in order to begin repopulation efforts immediately. Elf-wives have the same status and rights as any human wife, with two exceptions. 1. Elf-wives may not be divorced until at least one child has been sired. 2. Marriage to an elf-wife does not prevent marriage to a human wife, nor does it nullify current marriage arrangements.

  “This concordance was passed with great emphasis on returning the elven people to their original numbers. Participation in elf-wivery is considered to be an act of patriotism to the Crown, devotion to the Stars and a prime example of noblesse oblige. Let all who can render aid to this devastated race do so with dignity, kindness and above all, duty.”

  Those words hung in the air for some time. I didn’t quite know what to say. The Crown had called for this? Well, not the trickery but allowing polygamy with elves? Though in light of the population issues, that seemed to make sense.

  “Hmm. So what do I do?” I asked, rubbing the back of my head. “After all, I was tricked.”

  Seamus looked up from the legal text and shrugged. “Word of the Crown usually beats anything,” he said. “I mean, we could try and sue for divorce, but you would not come out looking good. A man marries three elf wives and then immediately claims a trap? Quite the scandal.”

  “I couldn’t care any less about scandal,” I replied.

  “Well, perhaps I could spell it out in a different way. I’ve been going over your numbers right now,” Seamus said, pulling out a scroll and unfurling it. I could see all manner of interesting drawings. It looked somewhat like a family tree, though there were different lineages on it. “Not financial numbers but people numbers. Folks who are eligible to marry in order to create unions, cement alliances or even just run your territories once we grow larger.”

  “And?” I asked, tilting my head to look at the paper more. There wasn’t a lot of information on this chart.

  “So, you have exactly one eligible person to marry off. In about seventeen years or so. Your sister, who seems more than content to sit in her play pen all day and push brightly colored spheres around.”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “You have no other living relatives who are eligible for marriage. Miss Sophia will not be remarrying, so she is out. On your newly extended family’s side, the Frankinsons have even less options than you. Your ability to cement alliances is near nonexistent,” Seamus explained. “And no one important is going to marry you until you pass the point of needing their strength to secure your position.”

  “That is a bleak situation,” I said. I looked at Sigmund who merely shrugged at me. He knew not what to say.

  “It certainly is,” Seamus agreed. He tapped on the paper. “But your elf-wives actually solve this problem. On multiple levels. First, elf clans take their families with them to their new homes, so that they may take care of their daughter when she becomes pregnant. Birth is an extremely rare event and so they must take every precaution to ensure the baby and the mother are both healthy and happy. So now, your halls are undoubtedly full of new family members. Brothers-in-law who can’t marry anyone in their own clan and thus have no one to start their own families with. Nephews and cousins in the same situation.”

  “Oh…right,” I said, the realization suddenly falling on me. If elf-wives were given the same legal status as human wives, it meant that their blood became my blood, in accordance with our inheritance laws. Which meant I had just inherited three sets of in-laws.

  “And then we have to think of the future,” Seamus continued. “Three wives means plenty of children. All with your blood, meaning your lineage won’t end with you once that assassin figures out how to finish the job.” He paused for a moment and realized how harsh those wo
rds sounded. “No offense, of course. I believe you’ll put up quite the fight before the end.”

  I didn’t bother to ponder the intimation that my fate was already sealed. Instead, I genuinely considered my legacy. I certainly wouldn’t be around forever. And with so many threats breathing down my neck, it would make sense to have a direct descendant to leave everything to. And I certainly didn’t want to force this life onto my little sister. I wanted her to have the same options and choices that I had growing up. The ability to eschew traditional expectations and choose her own path. My uncle never demanded anything of me and gave me the choice to become an alchemist. Having a few children of my own would free little Emelia from any obligation to become Lady of the House.

  “You make a startlingly good point,” I said, sighing deeply. “But I always thought I’d marry for love.”

  “You still can,” Seamus said, tapping on the law book. “In elven society, men are seen as little more than babymakers and farmers. You do your duties in the bedroom and let them mind their own business. Don’t expect the traditional lovey-dovey type relationship. Women stand firmly at the top of the elven hierarchy, while us lowly men are at the bottom. You’re free to pursue an actual relationship, if you please.”

  “This is a lot to consider,” I said. “Let me think about it.”

  “Nothing to think about, I’m afraid,” Seamus said as I stood and made my way for the exit. “The Crown won’t let you out until you have three kids. So you might as well find some use for them.”

  Chapter 16

  I left the library, head swimming with possibilities and questions. What was I to do here? I had been tricked, yes, but there was a vital reason behind Esha’s actions. She had pulled the wool over my eyes not out of malice but in order to preserve her people. Still, it was underhanded, and she would have to pay for this in some way. But for now, I didn’t want to think about any of this. I just wanted to put all of this nonsense out of my mind and focus on the task at hand. I still had an ultimatum to deal with. An enemy force that insisted upon the capture of my other family…

  A realization came to mind suddenly. If the elves had forced themselves into an alliance with me, that meant this enemy invasion was also their problem. And if it was their problem, I could call upon Esha to aid me in this matter. In fact, I had a great deal of leverage here, since she clearly was desperate to expand the Kinteli bloodline. Though, it was awful low to use procreation as a bargaining chip. But then again, I wouldn’t be having this conversation had the damned woman asked me before tricking me into such a state.

  I pulled up the Grid to see what my options were with regards to my new allies. An alliance tab had come into existence after I had married off my niece to the Frankinsons, but I had no real options available since they had already rendered me a great deal of aid by granting me a significant amount of golems to use. Now that I had new allies with tremendous resources, I might as well take a look and check what I could get out of the deal.

  The Blake-Kinteli Kinship

  Alliance Level: 1

  Mustering Rights: 20% silver, 20% mana crystals for defensive purposes only.

  Alliance Needs (fulfill these to strengthen your alliance level and gain additional benefits):

  - Having a mutual bloodline will strengthen this alliance

  - Alliance Garrison

  - Trade Route

  Alliance Requests: None

  Mustering rights? Interesting. It seemed that with the click of a button I could instantly claim a percentage of their wealth and crystals for the purpose of protecting our mutual properties. Were there any limits to mustering? When could I do so? Fortunately there was a little qualifier next to the muster button.

  To muster, one of the following criteria must be met:

  - An invasion is targeting your land

  - An enemy presence is nearby

  - You wish to invade a target that has been approved by all alliances involved

  - You have foreknowledge of an impending attack

  Aha! The last one! I had foreknowledge of an impending attack, because if I did not meet that Baron’s demands, he would certainly attempt to tear me a new one. With the mere thought, I’d acquire 20% of my newfound allies’ wealth to spend on fortifying my own lands. Quite tempting, considering I saw she had 100,000 silver just sitting around. Probably more so now that I was able to actively secure all of her territory from attacks.

  But in mustering, I’d be explicitly agreeing to this ridiculous marriage situation. I’d be cementing my relationship with the Kinteli as family. And I’d be duty bound to have three wives. I guess most men would be ecstatic to be in my position, but fantasy usually forgets that reality is often ugly and messy. I’m sure these women were lovely in their own way, but we did not share the same language, customs or culture. Integrating House Blake with elves would be troublesome. But…I could begin expanding my realm rapidly. I’d secure my legacy with plenty of children, marry off the elven men of the home to spread out alliances…

  My mind drifted to Miss Lily. I did have plans to act with romantic intent towards her, once all this chaos died down. I could feel something between us for certain and she definitely reinforced those feelings by becoming quite close to me, not just emotionally but physically. She often stood by my side many times, so close our shoulders brushed together more often than not. I dared not to look at her in those moments, for my face was undoubtedly beet red.

  No doubt she would be brokenhearted by my choice. But could I really stake my own personal happiness—and hers—against the fate of an entire race? And the safety and security of my estate? The elves would provide the funds necessary to begin building up against the impending invasion. And I could probably sell those autocarriages to further fund the operation.

  I sighed deeply at those thoughts. In another life, if my uncle and cousins were still alive and well, I’d happily pursue my own desires to the fullest. But that was not my lot in this life. I had to rise above my own needs and focus instead on the needs of those whose existence was in danger. I couldn’t well live my own life of happiness while allowing an entire lineage to go extinct, could I?

  If I was going to make such a sacrifice, however, then so would the Kintelis. I don’t care what elven festival she wanted to save her coin for, Esha was going to fund my new defensive strategy, whatever that may be. With a deep breath, I clicked on the muster button and watched as 20,000 silver dropped into my account, as well as 150 mana crystals.

  Your allies have mustered! The message read. I’d have to send someone to inform Esha, since she currently didn’t have access to the Grid right now. Hmmm. Actually come to think of it, if I was going to take on this alliance and her family as my own, the lack of access to the Grid was now my problem. I couldn’t very well defend two areas at the same time, could I?

  It was time to take action! No more sitting around mumbling to myself about the future. I had ultimately gotten what I wanted, though at a higher price than intended. But now with the Kintelis secured as allies, it was time to begin preparing for the impending invasion of the Baron.

  I had been wandering the halls, deep in thought, but found myself near my old lab. I could smell the burning scent of phosphorus and calator wafting through the air. Nigel was probably working in there. I cracked the door open to see the young man bent over a table, carefully pouring a bottle of some black substance into a beaker. His golem hand was waving at him frantically, as if trying to distract him, but he managed to pour the liquid without a problem.

  “Nigel!” I shouted, trying to throw off his attention. He remained perfectly still.

  “Come now, if old Werthen couldn’t distract me with his cane slaps, your shouts won’t do the trick,” Nigel replied, finishing up his work. It was a common joke for alchemists to try and distract one another while working, in the hopes of causing some kind of (sometimes extremely volatile) accident. At the college, we were taught to never take our focu
s off precision work and thus we used that argument as justification for goofing around nonstop.

  “Got some work for you,” I said, pulling my Starmetal Signet out from underneath my tunic. “How can one find starmetal?”

  “Not with magic,” he said right away, turning to face me. He leaned back and made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Hounds,” he finally said. “Yes! Hounds! I’ll need some coin, but I should be able to create a Hound Golem that could track the scent of starmetal.” He paused and looked around, then motioned for me to come close. I shut the door behind me as I approached. “And er…I’m gonna need a dog brain. Obviously.”

  “No, Nigel we are not using this as a way to test your dog brain theory,” I scolded. “Could a thousand fund it?”

  “The secret to advanced golemry lies within the brain, this I know!” he said. “But either way, a thousand won’t cut it. We’ll barely get functioning mana navigation core for that kind of coin.”

  I sighed. “Alright, take one of the new autocarriages and sell it, use the funds to build us a golem that can track the scent of starmetal. And swear to me that you won’t purchase any kind of…of brain from those back-alley alchemy shops.”

  “I swear on my honor, no back alley shops for me! Masterson Alchemical Wares has the best monster and animal brains in stock, guaranteed.”

  Chapter 17

  The door to my office slammed shut as Hagen stormed out, screaming a thousand curses upon my name. The man had been hired to work as my Claims Advisor and had just set up office when I unceremoniously removed him from my advisor list and replaced him with an Erudite named Joeth. I figured that Hagen would be pleased to just hang around until I had an extra advisor slot open for him, but apparently not.

  He was greatly insulted by the fact that I had fired him before even meeting with him and promised that he would quote “gut me in a dark alley someday.” I probably didn’t help by suggesting that he would have to wait in the line for the opportunity to kill me. But I had no current need for a Claims Advisor. I had made the selection before I learned the cruel fate that would await my House in a few weeks’ time. Now, more than anything, I needed someone who understood the rules of the Great Game.

 

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