by Galen Wolf
CAMELOT DUNGEON
(Book 2 in the Camelot LitRPG Series)
GALEN WOLF
Copyright © 2017 by Galen Wolf
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
1. Silver Drift
2. A Skirmish
3. Digging for Freedom
4. Cash Flow Problems
5. Further Complications
6. The Burning of Silver Drift
7. Meeting the Holy Man
8. Founding the Dungeon
9. The First Adventurer
10. Planning and Thinking
11. The Cave Bear and the Paladin
12. Running Out of Beer
13. Enter a Wizard
14. The Secret Valley
15. The Green Knight
16. The Fire Mage
17. I Bring You Fire
18. The Lost Alchemist
19. Firewall
20. Fireball
21. The Green Knight Returns
22. Firestorm
23. The Necromancer
24. Firefight
25. Batten Down the Hatches
26. I See Fire
27. Wind-Down
More by Galen Wolf
SILVER DRIFT
Way over the valley the royal city of Camelot is a burning heap of ruins. Smoke rises in evil palls, and the black and red haze shows the enemy controls everything as far as my eye can see. I turn away. It broke my heart to leave my city and my king, but if I'm to be any use to him again, my priority must be to survive.
I took a day's break from the game after the fall of the city and all the intensity following that, but all the time I was away, I kept thinking of my village — Silver Drift.
So as soon as I get time, here I am in the game again. I stand by my limestone tower on the moorland and look west to the lowlands where Camelot now glows black and evil. I hear they've renamed it Stygia after some place in hell.
My village of Silver Drift is prospering. The wooden palisade around the village has been upgraded to limestone, with double durability from enemy attack. There's a brewery within the village walls to brew the beer to feed my NPCs; two farms — the first growing oats for the horses and mules, the second growing hops and barley for the beer. The NPCs go about their work under clear blue mountain skies. Everything looks good.
But there’s a problem.
Over to the east, the enemy village of Carrionburg glows black and red, just like Camelot to the west. They know we're here at Silver Drift. It's just a matter of time before they turn their attention to us now Camelot has fallen. It won't be their main army because that's headed south after King Arthur.
I sigh. The last time I had news from outside Silver Drift, it was that the enemy's army had clashed with the King's forces at the bridge over the River Lune. I don't yet know who won that skirmish.
"Penny for them."
I glance up to see the talking mule, Henry, who's appointed himself leader of the mules and horses working in Silver Drift. It's still weird to have a mule talk to you, but I smile. "What's up, Henry?"
"Oh, you know. This and that. Munching grass, waiting for oats. It's not fair that Jason gets to dole out the oats. I should be in charge of them."
"You'd eat them all at once. I trust Jason."
"Hmm."
Henry follows me as I walk down from the craggy hill the tower grows out from like a stone tooth, and stroll towards the village. The militia guard at the gate salutes and allows me entry. Henry follows me in.
"A guy was looking for you," he says.
"What kind of guy?"
"Brown hair, brown eyes, brown cassock thing, brown skin."
"Bernard the Alchemist?"
"That's him."
"He still here?"
"Dunno."
"When was he here?"
"Not sure."
"Gee, thanks for the information."
"You're welcome." Henry shows his discolored tombstone teeth and ambles out of the gate in search of grass.
Jason the Brewer, an NPC who is also business manager of Silver Drift, sees me and leaves the conversation he was having with an NPC farmer to come over.
"Sir Gorrow," he says, bowing.
"How's it going?"
"I have both good news and bad news," he says.
I suck my teeth. "Okay... Go on."
"The good news is that we have had plentiful crops. We've got plenty of oats, barley and hops and I've managed to brew a good lot of Silver Drift Craft Ale. Thorvald, leader of the miners, tells me they've got big stocks of ore in the mine ready to sell and Armand, Sergeant of the Militia says the troops have been training and levelling well."
My face breaks into a broad smile. "That's a lot of good news. I was expecting—"
He raises his hand. "But."
I smile again. “Ah. There's a but."
"The enemy razed the city of Camelot has and we can't trade with their city that now stands in its place."
"I knew that." Still it is bad news. We got more money from trading with Camelot because of the distance. "But there's Alston…” I say.
He shakes his head. "Alston fell to the enemy yesterday. They're renaming it…” He searches in his memory for the name but I don't want to hear.
"It doesn't matter," I say. "Some awful carrion, evil trash name. They've got no imagination or style."
"But..." he says.
I finish his sentence. "We can't sell stuff there either."
"Yes." He looks somber. "That's about it."
"So where can we sell our stuff?"
Jason winces. "Nowhere. Everywhere round here apart from Silver Drift is now within the evil zone of control."
I scratch my head. “So we can't make any cash?"
"I don't think so."
That's a real blow. I thought Alston would stand for a little while longer. We definitely must be next, but they wouldn't take Silver Drift over, its too small — they'd burn it to the ground.
Each settlement over a certain size, has a milestone in the heart of it. That's where you bind your character. To take over a settlement an enemy must destroy your settlement milestone. To get its settlement milestone, Silver Drift would need a population over a hundred. I had been planning on that. I'd wanted my village to grow and grow, but now, I couldn't see a way for that to happen.
"Can we call a meeting of all the NPCs?" I ask Jason. "Meet me in the top room of the tower as soon as possible."
Jason nods and I turn to go back to my tower. The tower looks grey and strong against the blue sky. As I approach, I see a brown clad player character sitting by the door. It's my friend, Bernard the Alchemist.
"Hey, Gorrow. Or should it be Sir Gorrow now?"
"Gorrow's fine, Bernard. How've you been? And more important, what are you doing here?"
He shrugs. "I came back to Camelot to search for you after it had fallen?"
"And I appreciate that but you shouldn't have put yourself in danger."
"Never mind about that. But..." he scratches his head. "When I tried to get back to join the King's army, I found my way blocked by bad guys. I died twice and then thought I'd come back to see my old friend Gorrow in the only safe place left in the north."
"I'm not sure it's that safe, Bernie. At least not for long."
"Aw, don't say that." He gestures towards the settlement of Silver Drift. "It seems to be growing nicely. All you need is a few cows and some more houses and it'll be a hamlet. Next thing and it'll be
a village."
I point east towards the shifting line of black and red that marks the evil zone of control. "You see how close that line is coming? And Alston's fallen."
He frowns. "Alston's fallen? So you really are the last friendly settlement in the north."
I nod. "There's a band of evil control now right across the island from the east coast to the west. You have to go a hundred miles south before you get to friendly territory."
"And how come they've left you alone?"
"Because their main army has bigger fish to fry. Even so, they'll be sending raiding parties."
"What are you going to do?"
I take his elbow and help him to his feet. "Listen, come to the meeting. I could use your advice."
The Alchemist smiles. "No one ever appreciated my opinion before."
The guard steps smartly aside as we enter the doorway of the rock tower and make our way up its circular staircase to the large meeting room on the top floor.
Bernard jerks his thumb back at the guard. "He wouldn't let me in without you."
"Good man," I say. "That's what I pay him for."
There's now a big oak table in the meeting room surrounded by chairs. The arched windows look out onto miles of undulating moorland. I can see black smoke spiraling from the direction of Alston in the south. So it's true. Not that I doubted Jason's word. My heart feels heavy. What are we going to do now?
We all sit and I say, "Bernard, I guess you don't know these guys?" I point out my NPC advisors.
Bernard shakes his head.
"This is Jason the Brewer, also in charge of running the farms and of sales. When we could sell."
I point next to a grimy, thin NPC. "This is Thorvald, he's my mine supervisor. Level 11 miner."
"Level 12 now, boss."
"Oh sorry. Congratulations."
"That guy in the studded leather armor, is Armand, who's my Sergeant at Arms, in charge of defense and levelling the militia."
"Pleased to meet you," Armand says.
"Then, the thin guy with the hat who looks like he worries a lot, that's Oliver Stone, my architect."
"Your architect?" Oliver says. I can see he doesn't like my description of him as a worrier, but it's true.
"Who else do you work for these days?"
He shrugs and doesn't answer.
"And finally, the handsome dwarf with the green beard, that's Asterix. He's my... How would you describe yourself, Asterix?"
"I'm your fixer. Your go to guy. When you need bodies, you come to me."
"He used to run an staffing agency in Camelot, hiring out NPCs. He produces all the workers I need."
"All specialties catered for. You need miners, farmers, soldiers, priests, blacksmiths, farriers, apothecaries, tanners, masons, nuns, poets, whatever — I'm your man."
"Dwarf," Oliver Stone says.
"Yeah, dwarf." Asterix grins.
"Okay guys, this is Bernard. He's my friend."
They nod, then all listen while I outline the situation. When I've finished Jason says, "Like Gorrow explained. We can't sell our goods, so we won't have any income."
"What do we need income for?" Armand asks. "I mean really."
"To feed the troops."
"We feed them with beer. We pay them in cash."
Jason says, "But we can still brew beer."
A ripple of laughter goes round the room, it seems suddenly more light hearted as if they've found the solution to all our problems. Then I say, "We can brew beer as long as we've got a brewery."
"And fields to grow hops and barley in," Oliver says.
"And water," Jason says.
"But, when the minions of evil come, they're going to burn all of that down." I point out the window.
"We can fight them," Thorvald says. He always wants to fight.
"Sure," I say. "We can fight them. We can win. Maybe the first time, and the second, and possibly the third."
Armand puts his head in his hands. "So you're saying Silver Drift is doomed?"
I nod. "Silver Drift is doomed."
"I can't believe you're giving up like this, Gorrow. After all you put in to create this place," Armand is shaking his head. He knows he's close to insubordination but his feelings are running so strong I guess he has to speak out.
"Man, I really love this place," Jason says. "It's such a pity."
"And what happens to us?" Oliver says. "Us NPCs? We won't resurrect. If they come and kill us, we're just gone. Forever."
"Yes,” I say. "Silver Drift is doomed. But it's not the end of Silver Drift."
"Eh?" Asterix the dwarf looks puzzled.
"What you say doesn't make sense," Armand says.
I put up my hand. "Just hear me out."
They stop talking and listen attentively. "So," I say. "I made a mistake."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Bernard mutters. He's smiling.
"Like when you start any new game, you take a few wrong steps. I remember re-rolling characters in RPGs, and having to start again in strategy games because I'd gone wrong. You learn as you play."
"So what did you do wrong?" Armand asks.
I suck my teeth. "I set up Silver Drift."
They're all quiet again.
I continue. "I wanted the mine to get some income. I knew bad times were coming and I thought if we had a place in the hills, we could maybe escape the notice of the Evil One."
"There's no way of escaping the notice of the Evil One," Bernard says. "He's got spies everywhere."
"Or nearly everywhere," I say.
"Like where doesn't he have spies?"
"That's what I want to suggest." I turn to Jason. "Jason, you remember me asking if you'd surveyed the land around?"
The brewer nods.
"And you said there were some valleys that you simply couldn't get to. Or if you could, it was really difficult -- across mountain passes or blocked by huge bogs."
"I did. It's true."
"I asked you that because I'd been thinking. The enemy are going to come and burn down Silver Drift. Sure, we can resist. And we should resist because if we don't they aren't going to believe our little ruse."
"Oh yeah," Armand asks. "What's that?"
"I want them to burn down Silver Drift. I want them to think we're beaten and gone — that they rule everything in the north."
"And why would you want that?"
"Because then we'll get breathing space. We'll be able to grow and plan our counter attack. When the king comes back, we can be ready to support him."
"But we'll be gone. You just said that. And we," Armand gestured to the NPCs round the table, "Will be dead."
I allow myself a little smile. "We've got the mine."
Thorvald says, "Yup. We've got the mine all right. You suggesting we should hide down there?"
"I am. But I'm saying we develop the mine. We grow it into a dungeon. Any of you played classic dungeon delving games?"
They shake their heads. They're NPCs, they don't know what I'm talking about, but Bernard does.
Bernard says, "I have."
"We will build a dungeon. With traps and all that, and we will have workshops and armorers and carpentry shops, all underground, protected from the enemy. We'll disguise the mine door. They won't know we're even here."
"What are we going to eat?"
"Beer," Asterix says. "Also you can grow lovely mushrooms underground."
"I'm not eating dwarf food," Armand says. Asterix shoots him a withering look.
"How do we grow the ingredients for beer?" Jason says.
I sit forward. "This is why I asked about the valleys. The ones you can't get to overland. What if we tunnel underneath and come up into them? We can have farms and grow crops and raise animals the enemy will never know about."
Armand strokes his chin. "Stud farms to breed cavalry horses."
"Exactly."
"We can grow wheat and potatoes. Have cows and chickens." Jason says.
"That's what I mean. An
d everything we use — all our resources, metal, stone, wood, food, beer, gold — all of it we will produce or mine or grow ourselves."
"We'll be self sufficient."
"And we'll build a resistance army," I say. "For when the king comes back."
Thorvald, boss of the miners stands. "I guess I better get our guys digging then."
"I guess you better had."
A SKIRMISH
I'm standing on the palisade overlooking the fields to see the farmers working when the sound of a horn rings out. I recognize the low booming sound as one of the trumpets of the enemy. I rush round to the east wall and see Minions coming towards us.
There are five boggarts riding wolves, supported by a unit of about ten spearmen and it looks like six dwemmer archers. No magic users. We could just close our palisade gates and wait them out. They'd shoot a few arrows and we'd shoot a few back, but I want to teach them a lesson.
I call for Armand, my Sergeant at Arms. "How many militia do you have, Armand?"
We have the remainders of two of Camelot Regiments, a few dribs and drabs but their morale is awful because of the losses they suffered in the battle outside Camelot, so I'll use the militia.
"We've got ten, sir."
"Okay, put five on the walls with bows. They have levelled that skill, haven't they?"
Armand nods.
"And send the other five with me."
"What about me, Sir Gorrow?"