by Charles Dean
Miller followed where Lee was looking and stopped him. “Hey, before you grab that, do you mind?” Miller asked, signaling to his still-bleeding, injured side.
“Oh, yeah.” Lee used the hand that was already on the Firbolg’s shoulder to heal up the wound until it looked like it was as good as new. He didn’t know how many hit points Miller had, but he was annoyed that, for someone the same level as him, Miller seemed to have at least 20 or 30 more hit points, as he had pumped more than his own health pool into Miller, who, though gravely wounded, didn’t seem quite on death’s door. Then, after patching the Firbolg up, he grabbed the letter and went toward the others to see if any of them were injured and needed help too.
“How did you know?” Brigid asked him before he even got close to the larger group. “How did you know they weren’t what they seemed?”
Lee looked at the dead people behind Brigid. “I’m a Herald,” Lee answered, his eyes constantly scanning for any potentially mortally-wounded people. “It’s my job to know some of the details like this.” He couldn’t see anyone that looked close to death at first glance, so he looked over at Ling. “Are we the best we’re going to get? Does anyone need patching up?”
“No. Those who died from the initial hits died instantly. There were no wounded,” Ling reported. “It took us a minute to realize how to hunt them. I’m sorry. It was my failure. I’ll lead better in the future.”
Brigid marched up to Lee and positioned herself in front of him so that there was no avoiding her or her question. “Wait a minute. We’re not done here. I asked you how you knew. Are you not going to tell me?”
“You seriously don’t understand?” Lee snapped back, making sure to get as close to her as he could without physically touching and then using his height advantage to look down on her. “How do you think seven ‘innocent’ children made it into the middle of the woods? These woods that we had to fight tooth and nail to make it through? Why wasn’t there a single guardian in sight? Where did you think that smell of blood came from? Did you not notice the giant animal footprints leading up to them, but not leaving? ‘How did you not know?’ is the better question. The blood of every dead soldier here is on your hands for not letting me finish the little bastards before the first one shifted.” He had no idea why he wanted to be this mean or intimidating, but he did. The urge to take her down a peg and make her feel small boiled inside him, and he had to rein it back before he did or said something he would regret.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry, but you should have--”
“Should have what? You should have trusted me. Did you think--” Lee couldn’t help himself. He was ready to tear back into her, but Ling stopped him.
“Enough!” Ling shouted. “People died, and you’re arguing over who is most at fault? Show some decency!”
“Ugh . . .” Dave grumbled. Lee glanced over at the old man and saw that he was fairly well roughed up. “You know, the worst part about women talking is how often they’re right. I say we do what that loud Firbolg of yours is always suggesting and crack open one of the kegs and toast the fallen while we bury them properly. Can’t leave the bodies around for dogs to eat, you know?”
Lee looked over the bodies of the fallen and then nodded. “Yeah, that is what Augustus would suggest: have a drink for each of those that can’t.”
“Per person? Or do we split them? ‘Cause I can’t drink enough for every dead person here, and if we split them, then some of us are going to be without beer,” Pelham said as he started mentally counting up the bodies. “I mean, how ‘bout we do two or three drinks for each fallen brother and split them evenly. That should work, right?”
Dammit, Pelham. Lee didn’t even know how to respond to that. He just produced a few kegs and then a shovel he had hoped he wouldn’t have to use so soon.
“I still have more questions,” Brigid asked as Lee was chugging down a beer, eager to do his part and help get the bodies buried before they lost too much time on this stop.
“What is it now? Are you upset I didn’t kill them all at once?” Lee asked, a little annoyed she had dragged his people on what she thought of as a suicide venture. Even if she was mad at him, there was no reason to try and get the good people from Satterfield killed.
“Yes, actually,” Brigid answered. “I don’t know how, but I know that the dragon that attacked Kirshtein was your doing. How come you didn’t summon it or something grander here? You had the power to kill another Herald. I witnessed the ice giants your men fought off as you committed the deed. Why did you have nothing to finish off those six yourself?”
“Didn’t have time to plan,” Lee said dismissively, shrugging it off. “I don’t know what to tell you. Are you looking to blame me for their deaths, or are you just trying to find a place for your hatred and anger to go other than yourself?”
“I’m . . .” Brigid pressed her lips together until they disappeared into a single thin line. Then, looking around to make sure others weren’t eavesdropping but were instead doing what Lee should be doing, she continued. “I have every right to be mad at you. Do you know how many good men and women died because of that stunt you pulled dragging them into a war that didn’t even exist? Just for what? So that you could play your ‘god games?’ And here we are again: more bodies and more people dead so that you stupid religious psychopaths can flex your muscles and kill each other.”
Lee sighed vexedly. “It’s not that simple. You’re upset because I got people under your care killed. You’ve lost your composure and grown mad because they were your responsibility, and I understand that, but it’s the same for me. I did what I had to do to protect my race, my people, and those that had their faith in me. That’s a thing I’m sure you understand,” Lee explained. She seemed to register it, but it didn’t make her look any less angry. “Anyway, it’s not like I wanted to be in this war either, but there’s no use in complaining about it.”
“What type of attitude is that? As long as you’re still alive, there is always a point in reflecting on past mistakes,” Brigid replied sternly.
“I made no mistakes,” Lee replied, leveling with her. “I did what I had to. Just as you would have. You marched men to their death because you thought it was what you had to do. In that, we are the same. I just marched more of your men than my own.”
Brigid’s face turned beet red as she glared back at Lee. “This is not finished,” she said. “I just have men to tend to and organize.”
“Did you tell them at least?” Lee said, stopping her before she could turn and leave. “Did you at least tell them that they’ll probably die up here? That you’re knowingly leading them on a suicide mission?”
“Yes. Those that are here are the ones that wouldn’t leave even when they knew. These are the few that I couldn’t stop,” Brigid said, acknowledging the hidden question Lee was asking at the same time.
Lee looked over at the sixteen men patching themselves up. So few, Lee thought. Thousands of men she commanded, and here stand less than twenty. “Well, let’s see which ones we can keep alive till the end.”
After she left, and Lee was positive she was busy with her own stuff, he pulled out the letter that he had found and started reading it.
Last night, as I lay upon my back and stared at the sky, I imagined that beneath its starry visage was a perfect world, the world we will make. The world we must make. I saw it in its glory, its beauty, its purity, a world without my kind. Without the weak and broken. I know you’re on your way to be with me, coming closer by the day, and I can’t help but feel overjoyed. So lonely is this path, so heavy does it weigh upon my heart, that the thought of sharing the burden with someone else is a relief I cannot express, a joy that can’t be measured.
I can only wonder if others will ever understand us, if those in this world will see the horror that awaits them as time moves on, as technology catches up and lets the sickness fester to degrees that should never exist. Do they know what awaits us tomorrow? From a world where the healthy and ab
le-bodied walked in mass to the world where everyone is born with something: born blind, born with diseases, born with a body that rejects all environments or limbs that don’t work. They will never have asked for that, but still they won’t be able to leave. It is life’s nature to preserve and persevere, and so they will, even as the pain and suffering grow by the day.
That’s why it is our job. We must spare them. We must cull the weak calves. So, today, I sent the weakest of my weakest calves to the butcher’s fields to eat the butcher’s grass while they waited for his axe.
See you soon, my butcher.
Lee shuddered as he read that last line. It was hard not to be both upset and creeped out. He didn’t know what time she had come from, or what her home world must be like, but the idea of having done her dirty work in killing these children left a knot in his stomach that wouldn’t untie itself.
“Worse than the last letter?” Ling asked as she creeped out of the shadows behind Lee.
He looked at Ling and just put the letter away as soon as he finished, not bothering to answer and not wanting to think about it anymore. There were so many horrid implications in what Meadhbh had written that he didn’t even know how to begin unpacking them. He didn’t really want to either.
“I see.” Ling’s eyes seemed to find something on the ground, focusing on it a minute before looking back up at Lee. “I know it’s not my place, but--”
“Then don’t,” Lee said, stopping her. “I don’t want to think about it, and I don’t want to talk about it, so . . . can we not?”
Ling frowned up at him, and then her eyes darted to that spot on the ground again. “Yeah, we cannot talk about it if that’s what you want.”
“Thanks,” Lee said. “I’m sorry if I seem snappy. How ‘bout we just go get a beer? We have a long day ahead of us, and I’ve got a lot of people to heal up.”
And just like that, another day passed. Lee and Miller took point, hunting down mobs and killing them at every chance even as Brigid and her men watched on in confusion. Even Ling didn’t seem to understand how Miller and Lee could be so eager to fight again after everyone came so close to death such a short time ago, but it was precisely that reason which drove Lee harder. When night set in, he didn’t even let himself rest. He started crafting as soon as he could, trying to finish his little pet projects before the next day came, and he and the group came face to face with what he knew would inevitably occur. Halfway through the night, a status message popped up to remind him about the project he had started earlier.
Congratulations! You have completed your first unique civic improvement for Satterfield. A water reserve, ground pump and basic piping have been installed. Satterfield has received an increase of 10 to its Tech and Utility score. Due to the fact this is the only water reserve of its kind within the area, Satterfield has also received an increase of 2 to its Influence and Tourism rating.
Really? Lee looked at the number with surprise. That’s amazing! Lee was thrilled as he looked over Satterfield’s new stats, a little happy with the fact he had gotten an unexpected boon from the ‘first of its kind’ bonus.
Of course. Why would you doubt me? You’re the one with 31 deceit, not me.
That’s . . . That’s not what I meant, Lee apologized to the AI yet again. Anyway, does this mean I can start a new project?
Yes. As soon as you’ve selected one, please inform me, and I’ll help you initiate the process immediately.
Okay. In that case, I’m going to want to start the wooden palisade framework around the town. Lee actually wanted to install proper stone walls, but he had found out when he was looking through the book that, unlike many other projects, walls were ones that had to be upgraded one stage at a time. A town had to have the wooden palisade framework before the town could get the upgraded version of fortified wooden walls. The next stage, of course, was a stone wall and then a reinforced stone wall. Each section wasn’t that expensive, but the town had to have them upgraded one step at a time, and since Lee hadn’t yet gotten into Masonry, he couldn’t rush toward a fortified stone wall even if he wanted to. He also knew that, even with the amount of money he had gained from the Tigernachs’ deaths, he didn’t have nearly enough to afford the more advanced stages like the fortified metal ramparts. Just one wall would cost Lee nearly 6500 gold, a price that he couldn’t ever justify spending on a town with such a small economy.
You do remember that part where I told you that it was not in your best interest to focus on defensive structures until you improved the Economic Strength rating or the Influence and Tourism rating of the town?
Yes, I remember that incredibly helpful rundown of how the system works, Lee answered.
Then why are you ignoring my advice and building palisades anyway? For a burgeoning town, you’ll be wasting 24 hours on a structure that will only increase Satterfield’s Defensive Strength rating to 3.
Yeah, but with fortified wooden walls, it should be able to reach 7 in no time, Lee responded.
But you do remember how it’s not necessary, right? I have been incredibly generous with my assistance. Why are you not taking it?
Oh. Lee wasn’t sure how to word it. Because, even if it doesn’t make sense, I’m still kind of worried about the crazy, psychotic shape-shifting Herald that has a weird obsession with me. I know the walls won’t help much, but I’d like to think that if a pack of Phouka wolves attack, they won’t be able to operate a door or get past the wooden wall that will hopefully be finished in time.
Oh. Paranoia. Yes, that is a strong motivator. However, you do know that, in the event the residents of Satterfield die, new ones will eventually take their place over time? So long as the land exists, and your improvements are in place, more people will be drawn to fill out the town’s standardized population-carrying capacity. Even though Satterfield has less than 200 people now in its current form, the carrying capacity is 325. As such, more people will eventually start appearing and wandering in to find residence in Satterfield. You don’t need to worry about the existing population of Satterfield, just the ratings.
Lee blinked, unsure of how to respond at all. So, if my whole town dies, more people will just walk in until the population reaches 325 again? Lee soaked in that little bit of information. Between the letters Lee had gotten from the crazy Herald woman, and now the things the omnipotent being running the status messages was saying, it was hard to stomach the callous attitude toward individuals’ lives.
Yes. That is the gist of it. You don’t need to worry at all. That’s why I recommend picking an option that will increase the Influence and Tourism rating. That way, when the people in your town die, assuming the infrastructure isn’t broken, the speed at which people replenish its ranks will be faster. This should assuage your concerns.
I . . . I think I’m going to let my paranoia win. I’m going to stick with the decision for the wooden palisades.
Suit yourself. The project has been started. 33 gold has been subtracted from your inventory, and your leading delegate in Satterfield, Henslee, has been notified about the impending construction to prevent confusion. 10% of your mana and mana regeneration have also been sequestered. The project will be completed within 24 hours. At that point in time, you may then choose to upgrade the wooden palisades to fortified wooden walls.
Thanks, Lee said, and then, picking up his needle, he went back to work. One of his golems helped with some of the finer points of his tasks as he silently toiled away in the private tent his paladins had set up for him. Part of him wanted to stop what he was doing, go have a beer with Miller, go hang out with Ling and take his mind off the day, but the other part, the part that won out in the argument, reminded him of how little time he had left before a real confrontation with this Herald broke out. He had to be prepared, and that meant he had to work hard and not waste a single hour or minute of his time before the upcoming battle, even if his preparations left his hands prickled with tiny holes as he fumbled through his next crafting adventure.
> Chapter 6
Name: Lee
Race: Human
Class: Herald - Statesman
Level: 28
Health: 380/380
EXP: 42053/46500
Primary Stats:
Power 38 (42)
Toughness 38 (42)
Spirit 38 (42)
Secondary Stats:
Charisma 30
Courage 21
Deceit 31
Intelligence 201 (220)
Honor -2
Faith 32711
Personal Faith 224
Skills:
Unarmed Combat Initiate Level 7
Swordplay Novice Level 10
Sneak Journeyman Level 3
Cooking Initiate Level 7
Trap Detection Initiate Level 6
Knife Combat Initiate Level 9
Mental Fortitude Initiate Level 1
Sleight of Hand Initiate Level 3
Blood Shield Initiate Level 5
Sewing Initiate Level 4
Glass Smithing Novice Level 4
True Patriot
Carpentry Initiate Level 5
Delegation
The Statesman:
Territories:
Satterfield (+10: Savior)
Defensive Strength Rating: 1
Economic Strength rating: 3
Population Rating: 1
Territory Rating: 12
Tech / Utility Rating: 12
Influence / Tourism Rating: 4
Public Persona:
Kirshtein (-2: Unkind)
Birnefeld (0: Unknown)
Divine Skills:
Golem Sculpting Journeyman Level 4