Gentleman's Wars: The Rules of Engagement: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series (The Great Game Book 1)

by Andrew Karevik

  “You always have a choice,” Sigmund said, pulling the charm back a little. “Don’t think that your life is going to get any easier when you take upon this Signet. You have only one enemy right now, but as soon as you become active upon the grid, you will have many who want to take what you have. Worse yet, your primary enemy, whoever they may be, might be waiting for the house to join the game, so they can invade without resorting to assassination. We could be facing a great deal of chaos within minutes. What’s on the other side is only danger and war.”

  “But my family will be safe,” I said. “And my niece too. And that is the only thing that matters to me. I am a Blake, and I shall not allow any force to destroy what my lineage has worked so hard to create. Give me the amulet, Sigmund. I’ll join this game. And I intend to win.”

  Chapter 3

  I was truly unaware of what my butler meant when he said that this locket would grant the wearer great power. As I slipped the silvery charm around my neck, immediately, I felt as if a jolt of lightning had struck me, rushing down from the top of my spine to the bottom of my feet and then back up again. I shivered, almost violently, as stars formed in my eyes, shimmering and nearly blinding me.

  “Starmetal comes from outside of this world. But its magic is immense,” my butler advised as I nearly barreled over. He caught me by the arm and held me still as I felt the world shift beneath my feet. One moment, I was standing here, in the vault, and the next, I felt as if I were soaring, moving out of my own body, higher and higher into the sky.

  “Am I to become a specter? A ghost of some sort?” I shouted as I continued moving upwards, into the great blue abyss of the atmosphere. Below, I could see the mansion growing smaller and smaller.

  “Come now, calm yourself. It is a mere trick of the eyes. Your body is still here,” the old man grumbled, pinching my ear to remind me that I was indeed still in a human form. Only my vision was suspended above the world.

  I ceased flying once I reached a certain height, perhaps a few thousand feet above the land. Below, I could see…words? Yes! Large words hovering over the three parts of land that the Blake Gentry controlled. I recognized them full well, for cartography had also been a passion of mine.

  Blake Manor: Unsecured

  Haverton Vineyards: Unsecured

  Fire Spice Mines: Unsecured

  I squinted at these words. They seemed to inform me of the security status of my territories. All unsecure. I realized that not only did my territories have names above them, but they were indeed colored as well, with a great orange hue that extended up to our borders. Dozens of other colors intersected with this orange hue—green, red, blue and yellow—all of different shades and strengths. I could see, as my eyes swept across the landscape of Tryn, many other lands with the same hovering names above them, marking each site of interest. The territories to the left and right of me were just as small as my own, neighboring gentries who were recluses in their own right. They taxed our wine caravans to enter their territory, but that was our sole interaction with them.

  In the distance, however, I could see vast baronies, counties and even a few duchies with a great number of territories, a few so vast that they took up the majority of Tryn.

  “I take it from your astonished silence that you are seeing the world for the first time, not through a map or from a hill, but through the view of the Grid,” my manservant remarked.

  “Tremendous! Truly astonishing in all ways,” I said, feeling my mouth move even though my body felt way above the clouds. “I’m taking it that this is how we play the Great Game. Any territory that is on the grid is a valid target, right?”

  “Or a potential ally. A good friend or maybe even a suitor to marry into,” Sigmund replied. “Not everyone on the grid is ambitious. Once you have secured your territory, you can simply kick back and relax, defending yourself only when necessary. Our neighbors to the east and west are of that opinion.”

  “But we can grow bigger and stronger…” I said.

  “Curb your ambition, young Richard.” Oh how I hated when he called me young Richard. I was not a boy any longer, nor had I been for years now. I was 26 and a college graduate, one who had studied underneath a laboratory technician who worked directly with Malphius Masterson. I was not a boy any longer. “You have to defend your territory first.”

  “Tell me how,” I said, opting not to get into an argument with him. We could bicker about titles later. For right now, I needed to figure out the rules to the Grid, so that I could protect our land. My little sister, barely able to walk, was depending on me here.

  “The amulet allows you to shift perspectives, from your regular vision, to the Grid. And from the Grid you can access three important things,” my servant continued. “The first is your resource section. Focus for a moment, if you will. Think about what resources our estate has.”

  I complied with his direction, focusing on what resources we were in control of. To my surprise and wonder, in the right-hand corner of my vision, three symbols appeared. The first symbol was a silver coin with the numbers 1,500 next to it. The second was a blue crystal. This number was at zero. And the third was the familiar orange vial of Fire Spice that was instantly recognizable. This number was at 500 but had a +2 next to it.

  “My guess is that these symbols represent our current stock. Silver for our cashflow, crystals for the mana crystals and of course, our Fire Spice reserve,” I mused.

  “Very good. It would seem the fortune your uncle spent on college was well spent if you can recognize these symbols,” Sigmund said with his signature dryness that made it hard to tell whether he was joking or mocking me. Somehow, I felt it was both at the same time. “These three resources are your lifeblood. You need silver for building purchases and various necessities. Also for greasing palms and giving gifts to your potential allies and suitors. Mana crystals are necessary for purchasing Golems, and Fire Spice is necessary for repairing and upgrading them.”

  “Purchasing Golems?” I asked. As if to answer my question, a small box appeared in the left-hand side of my vision. It was a familiar symbol, one that I knew very well. The signature MM with two lines in the middle, the brand of Malphius’ Marvels, the store that had changed the world. Merely focusing on the box caused it to open up, revealing a great deal of information to me, as if I had opened a smaller book inside of the Grid.

  Basic Golems read the first page. Below those words were pictures of different Golems, many of which I could recognize. Beside each picture was a price, not in silver, but in crystals. And the costs were rather steep too. 10 crystals for a simple Stone Golem, the most basic of all golem types? Outrageous.

  “Tell me there is a way to gain crystals,” I said. “Because these prices are unfriendly.”

  “There’s…well, there’s the trouble, Richard. You see that we have a high amount of Fire Spice, but we are sorely lacking in crystals. Fire Spice is good for upgrades and repairs, but we’re going to need a steady source of mana crystals if we’re going to defend our territory properly,” my butler said. “So, we must secure either a package of crystals, or better yet, an income of them before we begin any serious development. You’ve bought yourself some time here, young Richard. Your enemy, whoever they may be, will be forced to pull their assassins back. But they will undoubtedly levy an army and march them to our territory. How long it will be is anyone’s guess. But we don’t even have buildings that can alert us to their presence until they are inside our territory. Time is of the essence.”

  “I suppose it’s worth asking, would they simply be content with attacking our mine and vineyards?” I asked. “And just leave our manor alone?”

  There was a snicker, a rather harsh laugh from my butler. “Why would they waste time on those when we’re unsecured? That’s like walking past a castle’s open gate and attacking the shed next to it. They’re going to go for the killing blow, as soon as possible. You must hurry and find us some mana crystals. Time is not on our s
ide.”

  Chapter 4

  My normally quiet life of study and experimentation in my alchemy lab was done and over with. With my estate in dire peril, it was time to put away theory and learning. Now it was time to become a man of action, a man of courage and vigor. My family’s legacy depended upon me and I wasn’t about to disappoint them. Whoever had slain my kin would pay for their crimes. I just wish that I had time to mourn their passing. But unfortunately, one cannot grieve and fight at the same time. Their bodies would be laid to rest, but the funerals and sorrow would have to wait until our manor was secure.

  I had somewhat of an advantage with my newfound status as Gentleman of the House. Though I knew nothing of the Grid or the rules of warfare just yet, I had a good grasp of how politics worked. More importantly, I knew that there was a great deal of crystal caverns to the east of Blake Manor. Most of which belonged to a very powerful Lady, who had the most unfortunate nickname of the “Crystal Bitch” for she was both cruel and exacting. Now whether this name was propaganda, invented by her enemies to smear her, or an accurate depiction of her personality remained to be seen.

  Lady Efera was a major up-and-comer in the political world, aggressively absorbing smaller territories around her, usually with conquest, though occasionally through political means. It occurred to me that whenever I read the phrase “conquest” in these political reports, I never much paid any mind to them, since no real war was involved. I just assumed that one side ran out of golems. Now, I was beginning to realize the complexities of conflict were much more than just two sides throwing golems at each other.

  Out of everyone who owned crystal caverns, Lady Efera was my choice to reach out to. Why? Simply put, I didn’t just need to make a trade. I needed to make an ally. And while she owned a great deal of crystals, what she sorely lacked was Fire Spice, for the damp conditions of the east, caused by frequent rainstorms, constantly flooded any attempts to make a mine. Even if she weren’t friendly to my cause, she would warm up (hopefully) to my spice collection. And if she decided to just attack me instead? Well…I really hoped that she wouldn’t. I had to play it cool with her, act like I was new on the scene but not someone to mess with. A bluff for certain, but hopefully one that I could pull off.

  Leaving the Manor was a strange affair, for the entire house staff lined up for me as I made my exit through the main halls. All the maids, servants and few security guards we employed were perfectly still, standing at attention as the Gentleman of the House made his leave. These were people who had never much paid me any mind, not out of malice or spite, but simply because I rarely required anything other than the occasional sandwich while working in my study. Until today, they had been servants to my uncle. And now, they were looking to me to keep the estate operational.

  Walking past so many nervous, worried faces who were trying their best to keep a stiff upper lip started a fire in my stomach. These were not simply employees, but men and women who had families of their own living in the servants’ quarters. Their livelihood was just as much at stake as the life of me and my sister. Should I fail in my duties, they’d all be out on the street without a red coin in their pocket. Most servants had long and lucrative contracts with the Blake Manor. They would suffer greatly if they lost both their homes and their jobs in one fell swoop. It was doubtful my assassin would be willing to retain them.

  With this resolve now burning in my heart, I entered our brand new Malphius Horseless Carriage and took a seat, inhaling deeply. Sigmund, who was sitting across from me, said nothing. He merely stared out the window, gazing at the manor. No doubt he was wondering if our home would be there when we got back. It was a rare thing to see concern on his face. I hoped that I would be able to win his confidence by gaining the necessary mana from Lady Efera.

  The crackling drive-crystal started to pop and hiss as it warmed up, emitting a powerful field of magic that began to draw our metal carriage forward. Truly a wondrous creation, for the Horseless Carriage could drive forward at high speeds, guided by the same intelligence that allowed Golems to function. Unlike horses, the intelligence did not need to be trained properly. It was created with an understanding of how to navigate the vast sprawling roads at top speeds. Without the need for rest or food, the drive-crystal would take us as far as we wanted to go. All we needed every few hundred miles was a sprinkle of Fire Spice to power the crystal back up again, something we had in droves.

  The trip was short, for the back roads of the eastern countryside were well developed but sparsely populated. Save for the occasional trading wagon, the roads were empty. And the closer we got to the great cliff sides overlooking the Colossal Sea, the lonelier the road became.

  At the top of a great hill was the Efera Embassy, a building meant to host visitors from any other gentry. Only those of higher rank were permitted to visit the Lady in person at her own Manor. Everyone else was stuck taking a number and waiting in the embassy. Fortunately, my butler had the foresight to send a letter ahead of time, informing the Lady of our interest in a trade arrangement, and we were instructed to meet her within the embassy.

  “Are you ready?” Sigmund asked as our carriage rolled up to the front of the embassy, where a white-gloved valet was awaiting us. He was a stocky fellow, with burly arms and a great mustache. He looked less like an attendant, and more like a bodyguard in a poor disguise. Perhaps he was.

  “I suppose,” I said. “Hopefully our spice should do the talking for us.”

  “A little bit of deference goes a long way,” Sigmund advised. “And Lady Efera is known to be exacting. Show her all the respect in the world. And she may test your temper. Do not give in to your pride. You’re here with your hat in hand. Do not forget that.”

  “Aren’t you coming with me?” I asked, realizing that my butler had not attempted to get up from his seat.

  He shook his head. “It would be unbecoming for you to enter with someone whispering in your ear. She is sharp and perceptive. One glance at me for reassurance and she will know that you are inexperienced in the ways of running an estate. I will remain here, until you return.”

  And with that, the door to our carriage opened up and the valet motioned for me to enter. “Good day, sir,” he said with a thick, gruff accent. “The Lady of the House is expecting you in the atrium.”

  “Very well then,” I said, climbing out of the vehicle and standing up to stretch. As I stretched, the big man was instantly upon me, hands roughly patting down my outstretched arms, stomach and legs, even going up in between my legs to areas one should not ever make an effort to touch in public! I wanted to demand he get his hands off me but held my breath. This was a mere security frisk, to ensure I carried no weapons. A simple precaution, I guess.

  Once the pat down was over, the man stepped back and tipped his bowler hat at me. “Forgive me for the impropriety, sir, but we’ve had two incidents as of late. The Lady is off-limits to being targeted, as you are well aware of the rules, but she still has loved ones. And they are open season for those who are looking to cause trouble.”

  I nodded and straightened my coat, making an effort to conceal my curiosity. Assassins had targeted her too? Or at least, those close by? I did not know whether this was business as usual or something new. Although to be fair, the Lady wasn’t known for her lack of enemies, that was to be sure.

  The “valet” led me through the embassy itself. The building was a tall brass structure with many stained glass windows, each window depicting a different planet or star. The interior of the embassy was rather empty, save for a few maids here and there, cleaning, dusting or polishing the brass statues. I couldn’t see any other visitors or attendants in waiting.

  “Here we are,” the valet said as we stopped at a pair of translucent glass doors. On the other side, I could see a great atrium filled with all manner of tropical plants. Some were even bearing fruit. “The Lady will see you here. Be quick in your words and do not waste time with pleasantries,” he said. He lowered hi
s voice. “She’s in one of her moods today. So try and save as much of her time as possible.”

  The valet then opened the glass doors, bowing down a little, and I could see that he had a Karrack pistol sticking out of the back of his trousers. He was almost certainly a bodyguard, ready to take me down at a moment’s notice. But as long as I behaved here, I wouldn’t be in any danger. I thanked him and strolled into the tropical atrium, feeling the immense heat wash over me almost instantly.

  The warmth was overwhelming and sweat immediately began to materialize on my brow, threatening to roll into my eyes. I was not used to such heats, for my part of the country was almost always cold. I couldn’t appear to be nervous about this meeting (though I certainly was) and dabbed my forehead with my handkerchief frequently, as to keep the sweat from forming any more.

  “Do come in,” came a calm, sullen voice in the distance. “I take it the trip to the embassy was an easy one?”

  “Indeed it was,” I said. “You have secured the roads and maintained them well.” That was a good compliment, right? I strolled over to where the voice was coming from, behind a particularly large green shrub with little purple berries. Standing, facing a beautiful red and blue flower, was a tall woman with jet black hair and a pale complexion. She wore a red blazer and deep marine blue pants. At her side was the customary longsword that only people of high status were permitted to carry.

  Without the blessing of the Queen, only soldiers could carry arms and only when on duty. But when granted honors from the Crown herself, a noble was allowed a blade that they could carry at all times. Whether that blade had ever taken a life was a curiosity to me. I tried not to stare at the weapon on her hip, but I had never met anyone who had the Crown’s Blessing before.