Warsinger

by James Osiris Baldwin

  “Alright,” I said, plopping back into the chair. “You’re up. Tell me who you are and what's going on.”

  The girl had a pretty, coltish look about her, with big brown eyes and a long, wheat-blond plait of hair filthy with mud. She’d dressed in what had to be thirty-odd pounds of lacquer and metal, all of it mis-matched and poorly fitted to her small, frail frame. Even so, she sketched a practiced curtsey. “Your Grace, I-I am Kitti Gorazde Hussar. I’m, umm, the daughter of Baron Gor Hussar, Lord of Bas County. I-I attended my debutante ball at this castle two years ago, when I turned twelve, but I don’t have any way to prove my parentage…”

  “It’s okay, I believe you.” The girl looked like she was struggling not to cry as I leaned forward, trying to tune out the background noise – internal and external – and listen. “What do you need?”

  “My entire House was killed when the Demon invaded.” Kitti drew herself up tall, struggling to appear more lady-like. “Papa, my brothers, my uncles, the Castellan, everyone. They overran us after sacking V-Vyeshniki and turning all the dead people into zombies. Papa gathered his banners and rode out to confront the Demon. When they rode back to Solonovka, they were flying victory colors. Papa was in the lead, and when the knights poured over the hill and we all cheered. The city gates were thrown open, but they… they were all dead. They rode in and fell on everyone like wolves, killing and killing. Then came worse things. Specters and skeletons and…”

  She trailed off, pressing the heel of her palm against her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “If it’s any consolation, we kicked a whole lot of undead ass on the Prezyemi Line.”

  “It is.” Kitti sniffed and swallowed, looking at the ceiling. “My father’s remaining Blood Brothers, the ones who were to watch my mother and I, they swore themselves to me and brought me here. I am the last of my line. We stayed in a fortress and hid while the war moved north. Then we tried to go back to Bas, but one of Father’s old knights has claimed the manor and the county.”

  “Give me a name.”

  “His name is Zoltan. Zoltan Gallo. He was one of my father’s banner captains. Ur Yuri, who has helped me all this time, says Zoltan used to be a knight, but he deserted during the first battle and he’s now nothing more than a common bandit. He declared himself the new lord of Bas, and is oppressing the peasants and using them as slave labor. He wants to kidnap me.”

  “Why? For ransom?”

  She shook her head. “No. He will marry me so that he can be the legitimate lord of the county.”

  “How old are you?” I scowled.

  Kitti looked up at me. “Fourteen, your Grace.”

  “And how old is he?”

  “Umm… I don’t know. About the same age as my papa, maybe a bit older.”

  “Right.” I flexed my fingers on the arms of the throne, hard. “Give me the quest.”

  She nodded, and concentrated. All NPCs were able to give quests, and it was an ability they all seemed to understand, no matter how old or young they were.

  New Quest: The Last of Her House

  Lady Kitti Hussar is the 14-year-old daughter of the Baron of Bas, Myszno’s southern-most county. Lady Hussar’s entire family perished in the Demon War.

  In the aftermath, Zoltan Gallo, a veteran knight who deserted Baron Hussar on the battlefield, has rallied a militia and declared himself the new baron. In addition to oppressing the citizens who survived the war, he has given Kitti an ultimatum - marry him, forfeit her inheritance and elevate him to the noble class, or die.

  Zoltan has hunted Lady Hussar all the way to Karhad, and she has claimed asylum with you. As Voivode of Myszno, you must protect your province from this upstart – and decide what to do about Lady Hussar, who may inherit her family’s land when she comes of age provided she does not marry.

  Difficulty: Moderate (Level 20-25)

  Rewards: 270 EXP, 40 Build Points, Unlock New Resources (Barley, Silver, Mana), +400 Renown (Myszno, Renown (Bas)).

  Special: Complete this quest within 7 days to earn bonus rewards. Quest must be completed within 27 days.

  I accepted it with a thought. The Quest didn’t go into my regular Quests menu, though. Instead, a new pane opened up. It was titled ‘Kingdom Quests’. The quest I’d received earlier in the day, A Desperate Plight, was also there. “Done. Leave it with me, and I’ll see what we can do. Sounds like this Zoltan guy has an appointment with me and my lovely scaly lady friend outside.”

  “I want you to geld him like a corrun!” Kitti paused, startled by the venom in her own voice, and covered her mouth. “I mean… umm… my apologies, your Grace, I didn’t mean to be so indecorous…”

  “Trust me, I’ll be the one to cut them off if I get my hands on him. Kids are off limits.” I waved it off. “I, uh, acknowledge your request for asylum and will be happy to have you stay here with your men while we sort out a plan. I might need to talk to you all in private, get more details. Does that work for you?”

  “You are generous, Your Grace.” Kitti curtseyed again. “But I would beg your leave. We are all tired, and very hungry. Our hookwings are exhausted, too. May I go see the steward and… and get something to eat?”

  The Steward. Right. I was a nobleman with a castle now, and castles had servants. Except, we didn’t. “We uh... we don't have a Steward yet. Pretty much everyone in Lord Bolza's household was killed by the Demon. About the best I can do is to have you hang out at the back of the court-”

  Kitti's face blanched, and her eyes widened. “Hang?”

  A nobleman with a castle and a gibbet. Right. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “'Hang' as in 'wait'. If you can wait until this clusterfuck is over, we’ll be able to find someone to set you up with a room and food.”

  “Oh.” Kitti flushed, then curtsied nervously. “As you will. Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The girl hurried off looking relieved, despite the inconvenience of having to wait. It was almost as if she hadn’t been expecting me to take the quest.

  The lady and her escort hadn't quite reached the back of the room when the huge double doors swung out, and a further thirty soldiers, armed and armored, poured through with Istvan in the lead. The petitioners were all stunned into a brief silence. I jumped to my feet and banged my spear on the ground, and all heads turned to face me.

  “Listen up! For the first time in my adult life, I am being deadly fucking serious!” I called out. “Either you settle down and line up, or everyone except Lady Hussar and her men are being escorted the fuck out of my castle. You hear me?”

  [You have lost 150 Renown in Myszno. Current Renown: 1387]

  There was a lot of muttering. I forced myself to sit back down and wait. It took a minute, but one by one, a queue began to form.

  They were about to step up when a knot of people boiled up and shoved them out of the way, ejecting a huge, porcine man with a red flushed face and a mop of blond curls perched on top of his head like the pelt of a skinned animal.

  “I represent the people of Karhad, the Ducal County, and I demand to speak with the Voivode first!” His voice boomed through the Great Hall.

  The battered knight in the front dropped his hand to his saber, as did Istvan. “And who are you, you impudent hog?”

  The guy drew thrust out his barrel chest, glowering as the band of commonfolk escorting him formed a protective semi-circle at his back. “I am Alan Bubek, and I am the elected Mayor of Karhad!”

  “The Mayor is appointed by the Voivode, you corrun’s arse!” Istvan snarled with surprising passion, taking a step forward. “You have some cheek coming in here, to the Voivode's domain-”

  “And asserting the right of the people to choose their leader?” Alan thrust his barrel chest forward. “I'd have thought better of a Yanik, Castellan. Your leaders are chosen by vote, and according to their merit!”

  “I am not Yanik. I am Vlachian, with a Yanik father,” Istvan replied coldly. “And if you don't carry yourself out of here back to the slophouse, I'll-�
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  “Hold up.” I held an arm out over his chest and looked down at Alan from the dais. “And listen, both of you. I'm open to reform on how mayors are appointed, but I have some questions that you'd better answer if you don't want a one-way trip from here to the dungeon. First off: why were you elected? Who elected you? How did the voting process operate?”

  Alan drew himself up, looking to me instead of Istvan. “There are some seven thousand citizens of Karhad who sheltered underground in the catacombs, and another five thousand who fled the city but hid in the surrounds. I was in the former group. I am a merchant; my company processes, ships and distributes meat and grain for animal fodder. We supplied the Myszno Defense Force-”

  “Don’t try and suck up to me. Get to the point,” I said, glancing at the noble vassals who were crowding behind. Several of them looked like they were about to explode. “I don't have much time.”

  “Ah yes, of course.” He cleared his throat. “The short version of events is that I took refugees into my warehouse, and from there into the catacombs. I fed them from my own supplies. When the dust cleared, we emerged to find our city in ruins. Bolza had not appointed a new Mayor. He appointed a Sherriff, whom everyone loathed, and he taxed us exorbitant sums of money beyond the King's take to line his own pockets. I said as such, and the good people of the city rallied around me. They voted that I should become Mayor, and we chased the Sheriff out of town.”

  “Uh huh.” I sat down and leaned forward, thinking. “Did you charge these people for food? Sell them at markup?”

  He bristled. “Absolutely not! Why, the very thought of it!”

  “I witness to that,” one of his companions said. His voice was raspy, but strong and confident. “Alan gave what he had for the good of the city, while Bolza closed the castle gates.”

  “Right.” Being who and what I was - American - the notion that the citizens of my capital would vote in their own Mayor wasn't threatening. In the real world, it's how shit was supposed to be done. Feudalism was a relic in real life, but here, it was the norm... and I was surprisingly okay with it, for now. “So there was no election? You weren't running against another candidate? The survivors just nominated you, and you took on their mantle?”

  Alan's expression fell. The idea seemed to confuse him. “Uhh... yes, Your Grace. Isn’t that how elections work?”

  “Okay.” I took a moment to choose my words carefully. “There's a lot of merchants who'd have gouged desperate hungry people during a war like this one, and I’m willing to believe you didn't until I get evidence to the contrary. I’ll acknowledge you as the provisional Mayor of Karhad-”

  There were howls of protest from the nobility within earshot.

  “-Emphasis on 'provisional',” I continued, raising my voice over them. “If the people of my capital want to have the right to choose their own local representative, there has to be preconditions. First off, the Volod has to sign off on it. Secondly, there has to be a fair election process, in which multiple candidates can compete. Thirdly, there has to be laws drawn up to make sure that process is fair. Alright?”

  The proclamation caused a ripple through the hall. Several people audibly gasped. Nobles scowled. Istvan stared at me, stone-faced.

  [You have lost 300 Renown with Myszno [Nobility]. Current Renown: 1087]

  [You have gained 200 Renown with Myszno [Duchy of Karhad] and Myszno [Commoners]. Current Renown: 1587]

  Alan gave me a strange look, like I'd somehow taken the wind out of his sails. He turned to his buddies. They shrugged, and he turned back. Then, he drew a deep breath and bowed until his curls touched the floor. “I accept this honor, Your Grace. It is a more... uhh... just and measured response than I expected.”

  “Yeah! We were expecting a fight!” One of his companions shook a fist.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in the mood. Bubek, you're only mayor until this city gets back on its feet,” I said. “And I warn you now - if you try and buck that rule and try something stupid, like assuming powers you don't have or rigging elections and shit, me and my dragon will pay you a personal house call, okay?”

  He swallowed. “I understand, Your Grace.”

  “Good. So tell me what you're here for.” I gestured to him and slumped back in my chair.

  “Karhad is in dire straits, my lord. Life there is intolerable,” Alan said, clasping his hands. “All our doctors were slaughtered. The university and all its precious relics were destroyed, the priests of Khors and our smiths murdered by the Demon. Bandits have taken over the marketplace. We are running out of food and there is no running water. The wells are bringing up filthy polluted sludge from the sewers, which have some kind of blockage. Children are taking sick from the filth, but we have nowhere else to go. Here, let me issue these quests…”

  New Quest: The World Beneath

  Karhad, a grand old city renowned as a bastion of learning and civilization in the far southern reaches of Vlachia, is facing the worst challenge of its existence. The Demon’s army flooded Karhad in the early stages of the war, butchering the citizenry and laying waste to much of its infrastructure. The people who managed to survive the onslaught did so by hiding in the network of catacombs below ground.

  Those survivors and the refugees starting to trickle back in search of their homes are in dire straits. The city’s water supply and sewerage systems have been severely damaged and are non-operational. The people sifting through the wreckage have no choice but to drink contaminated water and dispose of their waste in open gutters.

  This quest comprises two sub-quests:

  The World Beneath – Part 1: The Fol Alugut, Karhad’s ancient sewer line, is backing up and disgorging toxic sludge onto the streets. The filth is leading to outbreaks of disease that threaten your population’s safety and may lead to riots. Discover the cause of the blockage and remove it to restore hygiene to your city.

  The World Beneath – Part 2: Restore Karhad’s water supply by employing an engineer to repair the Great Conduit, the system that pumps water to the city’s public wells and plumbing. Consult your Kingdom Management Menu to review your options.

  Difficulty: Moderate (Level 20-25)

  Rewards: 1400 EXP, 50 Build Points, Unlock New Locations (Karhad Bathhouse, Tannery, Fertilizer Production), +200 Renown (Myszno, Renown (Karhad).

  Special: Complete this quest within 7 days to earn bonus rewards. Quest must be completed within 27 days.

  This quest was probably going to teach me more about waste management than I ever wanted to know. I accepted it with a sigh. “Alright, thanks, Alan. Now, issue me the ones for the marketplace and whatever else you need. We’ll get to them all – somehow.”

  Chapter 5

  By the time the Great Hall was empty, we had a lot of quests. An unbelievable quantity of quests. Twenty-three different titles sat in my special Kingdom Quest pane, conveniently organized by urgency - which meant they were not organized at all, because every single one had equal priority and they all had to be completed within twenty-seven days.

  “What the actual fuck, Istvan?” I had my face in my hand, massaging my brow to try and release some of the tension there. “Is Ignas trying to kill me? Like, death by a thousand cuts or something?”

  “This isn’t Ignas’ doing,” Istvan replied. He was stuffing a long ebony pipe with what looked and smelled like really good weed - the same herb that his partner, Vash, also liked to smoke. “Andrik was still Volod when the invasion first occurred.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right. This is his fault.” The massaging intensified. “Is that everything for today, or…?”

  “The Royal Herald’s cruiser was docking when I went to retrieve the guards,” he remarked, waving a flame over the plug of leaves and testing it. “Shall I summon them?”

  “Might as well.” I sighed and slumped back. “I’m already sitting on top of this shit sandwich with shit cheese and extra shit sauce. Might as well throw in a pickle on top. Fuck, I’m terrible at this.”r />
  Istvan regarded me for a moment, lips pulled to one side. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Hector.”

  “Hard on myself? Dude, I’m down to 1087 Renown in Myszno. That keeps me in the ‘Public Figure’ category by seven points.”

  “If you judge yourself by your Renown alone, you will go mad. It goes up and down, like the price of iron or the value of currency. This was your first court session, and you handled the chaos satisfactorily. The noble families of Racsa have come away from this meeting calmer, the commoners are placated-”

  “I should have come out of this with more Renown, not less. I’ve been Voivode less than a day.”

  Istvan took a long hit off his pipe, and shook his head. He held the smoke and exhaled. I wordlessly held out a hand and made the ‘gimme gimme’ fingers at it.

  “Have you gone through the Kingdom Management System tutorials yet?” he asked, passing the pipe.

  “I haven’t had time.” I took a grateful toke and slumped back into my chair.

  As if to emphasize my words, the door at the end of the Great Hall cracked open, and a small but impressive woman strode on through. She was dressed in men’s clothing, which in Vlachia consisted of a long scarlet coat over a black tunic, breeches, and high boots. She wore a fine fur-trimmed cap, with a hookwing feather jutting up in front, and carried a saber on her hip. I gave Istvan his pipe back, straightened up and prepared for Quest Number Twenty-Four.

  When the woman reached the dais, she bowed deeply, sweeping the feather along the floor. “Good afternoon, Your Grace. I am a Royal Herald of the House of Corvinus, and I bear a letter and a message from His Majesty. Volod Ignas Corvinus the Third, king of Vlachia and Prince of Taltos.”

  “A letter AND a message?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I have one written message and one spoken message.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a slim scroll case, and from there she removed a roll of stamped vellum and handed it to Istvan. He took it, and handed it to me.

  [You have obtained Key Item: Royal Charter - A letter affirming your new noble title and outlining your responsibilities as Voivode, as well as your duties to the king.]