Eastbound and Town: A LitRPG/Gamelit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 8)

by Eric Ugland

  There were two large lakes and two massive rivers, both of which were more than a bit bizarre. They each came out of caverns, dumping into the valley via waterfalls. The eastern waterfall wasn’t as big as the western, but it was the one that wound down to the lake that fed the river that went by Coggeshall proper. The western waterfall was higher up, and it made a fantastic spray as it hit the water below, sending a perpetual mist up into the air and doing a good job blocking out the sun. Vegetation around it was lush — large trees, lots of bushes, heavy grasses, and civilization, of a sort. It was the night goblins’ home. Or at least the entrance to their home. They seemed to have found a great spot to live, where they could access the outside world even during the day, but still stay out of the sun. The western waterfall’s river made a lazy, winding path before widening into a shallow lake that ran up against the second major exit from Coggeshall. The river that left the lake, flowing north, went through a small opening in the cliffs, and carved a really interesting bit of geography on the outside. One bank of the river was plains, flat and amber and just going and going to the horizon, while the other bank was heavy with trees. I guessed it was the other side of the forest the Dark Queen was building her road toward. I could see the river winding through the forest for awhile before the trees just swallowed the whole thing up.

  Fritz landed up on one of the nearby peaks at the northern exit, so I got a fantastic view of everything. Including a dark form on the western horizon sending up a massive cloud of dust and, likely, heading in our general direction. It had all the markings of a herd of something moving towards us. Could have been an army on horseback, or it could have been a herd of wild buffalo. Or something in between. An army of buffalo on horseback, who knows. A lot of somethings were moving and causing a lot of dust into the air. Further to the north, I could just make out another range of mountains. Perhaps not as tall and foreboding as our own, but certainly there and providing a geographic boundary.

  Now that I could see the entire landscape, I knew I wanted to secure our northern border. Quickly. The shallow lake and gentle river was nothing. The whole area looked idyllic. It was a mild slope between valley and non-valley, and there was plenty of room to march a lot of troops along the river — they didn’t even need to get their feet wet. Though, technically they’d need to at some point in order to get to Coggeshall. Which was another idea beginning to percolate in my brain: I wanted a road. A way to move through the valley quickly so we could secure it.

  But securing the valley also meant dealing with the goblins. That had to come soon as well.

  I tapped Fritz, and we flew off again, toward the last opening in our circular valley. It was northwest of Coggeshall, and flying over, I could already see the verdant expanse of the Emerald Sea. Which was crazy. We could, in theory, compete with Osterstadt. Our entrance wasn’t quite as wide open as Osterdstadt’s — I doubted if we’d be able to get more than one tree through at a time — but regardless. We had access to the giant magical trees of the Sea, and that could make Coggeshall an economic powerhouse if we so chose.

  The valley itself was mostly wooded, full of gentle hills and dales. There were a few large grassy open areas, but mostly, it was just trees.

  The last bit of interest, to me at least, was basically smack dab in the center of the circle. There was a big-ass rock. You could probably make a solid argument for calling it a mountain, but it also looked like a big ass rock. Especially because it seemed to be of different make than the rest of the rocks in the region. It wasn’t obsidian, I could tell that much from the air. It was pretty close to matte, with just a hint of glitter tossed in. Like the amount of glitter your preschool teacher wanted you to use, not the amount you did use.

  I tossed that bit of information onto the “investigations for later” to-do list.

  And with that, it was time to head to Coggeshall proper.

  Time to go home.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I don’t know what I expected to see when I got home, but it definitely wasn’t a picnic happening across the outdoor space. I also didn’t expect all the outdoor buildings to be gone, save the stables. There was new construction happening — a new building’s basement had been dug, and some stone had been laid as a foundation.

  Calls went up from the guards when we were still quite a bit distant, but no arrows came our way. I hoped it was because they could actually see me riding the back of the majestic beast. Quite an entrance, you know?

  When Fritz came in for a landing, the picnic had disappeared. Everyone had gone back into the mountain. Even the guards had disappeared from the walls. On the one hand, impressive that so many people could move so fast. But it was also depressing that the guards weren’t ready to put up a fight.

  I clambered down the giant bird, then helped Bear and Skeld. After a quick bit of knot work, Fritz was free of his harness. I put the chests in a stack, and did my best to shield the egg, and its snowbold insulation, from, well, everyone. I went so far as to pull some fabric out of my unfillable knapsack and drape it over the egg.

  Then, I stood there proudly, looking toward the mountain.

  Fritz shook himself off, then scratched at the dirt with a talon.

  Find Roost.

  He nodded at me, and then launched into the sky. Standing under his wings as he took off was like standing underneath a helicopter. I almost fell to the ground. Skeld actually did fall, but Bear cast some sort of shield spell to keep herself upright. Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and the giant bird was barely a dot in the sky above us.

  “Impressive exit,” Skeld said, trying to pick himself up off the ground.

  I helped him up, increasingly worried about what was ailing the otter.

  The double doors opened, and guards poured out, forming a shield wall.

  I waved.

  Someone within the shield wall moved their shield enough so they could see out.

  I waved again.

  “I live here,” I said.

  The shields came down, and the semi-familiar faces of the Coggeshall guard looked back at me.

  One of them waved.

  “Duke Coggeshall!” The guard called out. “Is that really you?”

  “It’s me,” I shouted back. “I have returned!”

  A collective sigh rang out, and the guard all sauntered back to their posts. Meanwhile, the rest of the town came back outside, carrying with them all the various bits and bobs of their picnic. Blankets and eating spots were reclaimed, and I got a lot of weird looks.

  No one came and spoke to me. I stood there awkwardly, until a weary looking Nikolai headed my way.

  The first thing he did? Toss the prinky necklace at me.

  “I don’t want this thing,” he said. “It’s weird.”

  “Good to see you too,” I replied. “I take it things are going well?”

  “Well enough,” he replied.

  “One, how long was I gone?”

  “A month and change.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you tell people?”

  “That you were hunting down the corrupted ones.”

  “That’s all?”

  “I can’t tell them the truth, they’re not going to take it well thinking you, well, either what really happened, or--“

  “No one saw the notice that I, uh—“

  “There was no notice.”

  “Interesting.”

  He stepped closer to me, and spoke quietly: “When there are fewer listeners, we should have a chat about what really happened.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He nodded, then returned to his normal volume to say, “As you can see, we’ve made some changes.”

  “I noticed there’s basically, like, nothing outside now,” I replied.

  “Most everything is inside, yes. We decided it would make the holding more defensible.”

  “We need to talk about that.”

  “There is much we need to
talk about.”

  “Before we get to anything else,” I said, “do you remember Bear Snowgust?”

  He looked over at the brownie, “I do. A member of your hirð, yes?”

  “Also,” I said, “Nikolai is part of the hirð. And a bit of an asshole.”

  Nikolai frowned.

  “Ah,” Bear said.

  “But,” I said, “more important, something is wrong with Skeld. He needs healing.”’

  “I’ve been working with him,” Bear said, “but he’s not improving.”

  Nikolai nodded, and looked over to the picnic-goers. He pointed to a young woman. “Bear, if you would, take Skeld over to that woman and explain the problem.”

  Nikolai and I watched the two of them hobble away from us.

  Then Nikolai turned to me, and gestured toward the open double doors.

  “Shall we begin the painful process of bringing you back up to speed?” he asked.

  “Back to being an asshat, eh?”

  “It is a comfortable place for me to exist. At least, at the moment. Besides, your departure did put us in a bit of a bind for a while.”

  “Lead on, then.”

  “Lovely. A tour while we discuss things.”

  The first change was right inside the main doors. They’d been widened. There was a hallway before the main, well, foyer, and plenty of small holes within the hallway had been installed to facilitate poking and shooting at enemies who tried to break their way through. Then, Nikolai showed off two barracks, one on either side of the main entrance. That way, soldiers or guards, depending on how you wanted to describe them, were never very far away if something was trying to break in, or if something bad happened outside on the greens. Which, apparently, was what people had taken to calling the grassy area outside.

  The foyer, or entry hall, was still a work in progress, but it looked like it was going to be impressive at some point. High cathedral-style ceilings with faux stained-glass windows. Well, the glass was real, but there wasn’t an outside on the other side of the window. Just some magical glowing rocks, glowstones. They were quite beautiful in their own right, but I wasn’t keen on their subject matter. Mainly because of the four windows done so far, three were obviously of me.

  “Seems a bit much,” I said, pointing to the window of me taking on the slavers by myself.

  “Bit much works well here, my lord,” Nikolai replied. “We have been talking, and I believe it is time for some lessons or something of the sort, to teach you how to behave like a duke. Clearly it is not something I have been capable of. And while we are on the topic of my failures, I would like to apologize to you. I have not been an adequate mentor to you. I have failed—”

  “Hey, don’t—“

  “Montana of Coggeshall, it is hard enough for me to prostrate myself in apology in front of you without being interrupted. Allow me the moment and then you may continue on saying it is not necessary.”

  I shut my mouth and spread my hand out, indicating he should go on.

  “I agreed to a task as given to me by my friend and commander Benedict Coggeshall, that I would guide you into becoming a great ruler for Benedict’s legacy. These lands. And yet, I did not. I can say, after having given it thought, it was partially due to what happened to me in the jails of Osterstadt. I was unable to move past that loss, and I took out my rage and impotence on anyone who dared step in my path. Which was most often you. I did not give you correct guidance, able advice, nor even the opportunity to put the lessons I poorly yelled at you into practice. I am sorry for that, Montana, and I hope that my actions have not harmed our holding. Nor our relationship.”

  “Nah,” I said, “We’re good.”

  “I admire your belief in us. But I am seriously concerned with the state of Coggeshall.”

  “Okay, but I’m back! I’m out of grandiose quests, I’m ready to work. To make this place what it needs to be. And maybe not bathe in blood so much.”

  “That would be an excellent plan, considering it has been brought to my attention that hygiene seems to have become an area of concern regarding you.”

  “I do have a tendency to get into messes.”

  “And then walk through all the public areas with nary a concern. We will need to work on your public image.”

  “So people aren’t scared of me?”

  “Or disgusted by you.”

  “That would be ideal.”

  “Yes.” He paused. I couldn’t tell if he had more to say or if he was waiting for me to say something, so I just stood there. “Then on we go.”

  The entrance hall had a bunch of doors leading off of it. To the right were mostly living quarters. Kind of like a row of apartments. Small one-, two-, and three-bedroom homes carved out of the stone itself. There was a small office of dwarves who were handling all the admin stuff so many people living together created. To the left of the entrance hall was, for lack of a better word, the commercial area.

  “How did all this happen?” I asked. “I thought a lot of this was already carved out, and—“

  “You brought us an able and happy workforce of over one-thousand kobolds. That, combined with a hundred-plus dwarves working on this issue, and one geomancer determined to prove she’s the best at her chosen field, and we have managed to make near miracles happen.”

  “Wow. So the kobolds are doing well here?”

  “Yes. Baltu is, of course, an enormous help wrangling them. As is Vreggork. That snowbold is an incredible find, he’s fantastic out in the wilds. One of the better rangers we have now. Only problem is getting him to return in a timely manner. But those kobolds are hard workers and have a slightly fanatical devotion to one Montana Coggeshall, he who delivered them from their previous living situation, which was a little less than optimal from the sound of it. We gave them food and housing, and they have, well, made themselves at home.”

  Lee’s magnificent water wheel had been moved indoors as well. The hydromancer, Mercy, worked with the geomancer, Essie, to create an indoor waterfall that powered the wheel, which in turn powered the smithy and the sawmill. The sawmill had a separate entrance for logs, which was more like a semi-hidden ramp. The logs were dragged to the ramp in the greens and then dropped down to the sawmill, where they were milled into the various lengths of wood required by the carpenters, who were in the midst of making a shit ton of furniture. All of it basic stuff, but well-made all the same.

  Finally, we got to the other side of the entrance hall, the actual Hall. There was an actual throne set up on a dais. It was functionally complete, but the room lacked any little trapping of elegance.

  “Might try the seat for size,” Nikolai said, gesturing to the chair.

  I smiled, and sat down.

  It creaked under me, which was not exactly the most ducal thing that could’ve happened. It was a little too small, so I had trouble getting out of it, which didn’t help.

  “We will get another one made,” Nikolai said, making a note in a small book. “Last stop on the tour,” he continued, already walking toward a door I hadn’t noticed on the far side of the room. “My office.”

  The room was comfortable. There was even a bed in the corner, unmade. A large wide desk was covered in paper, and various file cabinets which were in the process of being filled up.

  I noticed a pile of shiny rocks in one corner.

  “Followed you, huh?” I asked, pointing at the pebbles.

  “Yes, well. Someone clearly thought it was amusing. The little battenti children saw the prinkies bringing me pebbles, and so the battenti told the dwarven children, who told the human children, who told every other child in Coggeshall. And once the young kobolds found out, there was no chance of stopping it. Now I just accept that I will have an ever-increasing pile of rocks wherever I go.”

  “It’s endearing,” I said. “Shows they care about you.”

  “Next step is to get them to care about you.”

  I shrugged, then dropped into the chair opposite the desk.

&nbs
p; “Hey,” I said, “why’s there a bed here?”

  “My days are quite long, and I got tired of climbing stairs.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He sat down behind the desk, looking over the ocean of paper between us.

  “There are more than a few things on our plate. The construction of our home has been the high point of our accomplishments.”

  “It sounds like you’re about to hit me with some low-points.”

  “Yes. The princess has gone.”

  “Seriously? Fuck her.”

  “It isn’t as simple—“

  “Look man, I know your plan was to have the princess and me knock boots and maybe make some move on the throne, but that’s not who I am. That’d end terribly for everyone involved. She’s got her own journey to go on, and it’s not ours to interfere with.”

  “I won’t say you aren’t right about the princess,” Nikolai said, and I tried to un-foul the double negative to figure out what he’d actually meant, but then he started talking again. “But, oddly, it has little to do with you directly, and more to do with—“

  “The imperial games around the throne? I don’t care about them.”

  He sucked some air through his teeth, and then let out a long breath of frustration. “I had forgotten some of your annoying habits in your absence.”

  “You missed the hell out of me.”

  “Oddly, I did. However, you do have a horrid habit of not letting people finish speaking before you believe you’ve figured it out and jump in, only to sound like a fucking idiot, my liege.”

  “Yeah, I could see how, I mean, yes, that is a problem. I’m sorry. Continue.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  I could hear his fuck you clearly whenever he said my lord. He was so good at dousing his words with hidden venom. I wondered if that was going to be a lesson in my become-a-duke studies.

  “Regardless of your feelings on the matter,” he said with a sigh, “the princess remains a valuable public and political figure in the Empire. And as gross as it is to say, whoever controls her has more power.”

  I didn’t say anything, trying to prove I’d learned to wait for my turn to speak.