Dukes and Ladders: A LitRPG/Gamelit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 5)

by Eric Ugland

  Dukes and Ladders

  The Good Guys Book Five

  Eric Ugland

  Air Quotes Publishing Inc.

  Air Quotes Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 Eric Ugland

  Cover by James of Goonwrite

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of Fiction. Of Fantasy. All of the characters in this novel and series are fictional and any resemblance to people living, dead, or undead is purely coincidental and surprising. Mentions of places are incidental, accidental, and mostly mental. The secret passphrase is “chicken fricassee is frickin’ chicken, see?” The magic and spells have been researched in absolutely no way whatsoever, and any ill-effects after you attempt to cast them are completely on you. Any science is likely wrong considering the laws of physics are different in places with magic, you dig?

  Sorry Kent. But not that sorry.

  Also by Eric Ugland

  The Good Guys - Epic LitRPG/GameLit

  One More Last Time

  Heir Today Pawn Tomorrow

  Dungeon Mauling

  Four: The Loot

  Roseland - Private Investigator Mysteries

  Series One

  Series Two

  Series Three

  For Hammy.

  I hope my books are the reason you stay up late,

  and not the reason you can’t sleep.

  Chapter One

  I turned, and saw Eliza Northwoods striding through the camp. Despite the rather austere living conditions, she managed to look flawless. Her hair was perfect, her skin clean, her eyes clear. She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “Duke Coggeshall,” she said with a slight curtsy. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again.”

  “And you,” I said. “As well. Or, uh. It is nice to, I’m going to shut up now.”

  “Excellent job, your highness,” Nikolai said softly.

  I glared at him.

  Eliza Northwoods just smiled.

  “I am quite excited to be here,” she said. “I have never seen something like this before. Bringing forth a city from out of the wilderness.”

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  “My father mentioned to me that you might not be familiar with the governance of a holding. Is that true?”

  “Very.”

  “Have you claimed this land?”

  “Uh—”

  “He has not,” Nikolai answered for me.

  “Do you know the ritual for that?” she asked.

  I shook my head, and to my surprise, Nikolai did likewise. I looked over at Nikolai with an eyebrow raised.

  “Land usage has never really been within my purview,” he said.

  “It is quite simple,” Eliza interjected with a big smile. “Would you like me to perform it with you?”

  “How about you walk us through it,” Nikolai offered in return, “and then we do it? Or, he does it.”

  She smiled at the slight, and nodded. “Of course. I meant nothing by saying I would participate in the ritual. You need a dagger, or a blade of some kind, a flag post or pole, and a patch of ground.”

  I looked around the area, and picked out a spot in front of the longhouse. Sure, putting a flag there would make it look like a trumped up summer camp bunk house, but it was the only good spot for a flag.

  “Does the flag matter?” I asked.

  “It is more the act of putting something into the ground,” Eliza replied. “It is symbolic really. Once you have completed the ritual, you can remove the flag if you like.”

  I pulled a spear from the bag of holding, and held it up.

  “Blade and pole ready,” I said. “Is the flag important?”

  “The fabric?”

  “Yeah, I don’t really have a flag. Yet.”

  Again a smile. She was definitely a smiler. I wasn’t complaining — she had a great smile.

  “As far as I know, it might as well be a stick,” she said. “Most nobles engage in quite the ceremony for something like this, so it could be quite simple and still work. I just lack complete confidence—”

  “I’m a simple guy,” I said, “let’s give it a try.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. It sounded so bad. Outwardly, Nikolai groaned. Eliza pretended not to notice.

  “Cut your hand,” she said, “or anywhere you prefer. Let the blood fall upon the ground, and then plant your flag pole, or spear in this case, within the blood. You should be given the prompt to claim this land.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” I replied, and promptly cut along my forearm.

  Nikolai opened his mouth, seeming like he was going to say something, but then he frowned.

  I let the blood drop onto the ground, and then I jammed the spear down into the earth through the blood.

  You seek to claim this land. Do you claim this as a holding, an estate, a town, a barony, a county, or a dukedom?

  Seemed like an odd question. I was a duke. So I claimed the dukedom.

  The Dukedom of Coggeshall has been claimed by Montana, the Duke of Coggeshall.

  “Done,” I said.

  “You have claimed the holding?” she asked.

  “No,” I said, looking from her to Nikolai. “I claimed the dukedom.”

  The blood drained from her face.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “That was unwise.”

  I blinked a few times as I tried to parse out what she was saying, and, because I could, resorted to staring at her.

  Nikolai did the same.

  “How unwise?” I asked.

  Eliza looked to Nikolai and then to me.

  “Oh, um,” she stammered, trying to pull her words together, “I believe quite.”

  Nikolai started to draw his blade, but before he could get it up, I grabbed his hand. I felt him relax immediately, which gave me the feeling what he’d done was an act.

  “What is the issue?” I asked.

  “The dukedom, I assume, is rather large.”

  “Sure.”

  “Therein lies the problem.”

  “Okay, not getting it. Why is that a problem? And what level of problem are we talking about?”

  “The size of the land you claim — it has to do with uh, your followers.”

  “What’s wrong with my followers?”

  “Is it right to assume you know nothing about what you have done?”

  “Almost always assume that,” Nikolai snapped. “But in this regard, I know little about what it is he has done either so please explain things. And quickly.”

  Eliza nodded, looking thoughtful, like she was trying to figure out how to talk me through whatever mess this was.

  “Initially,” she started, “I believe you will encounter your first major problem to be one of followers. And the number of followers you have versus non-followers in your realm.”

  “That’s the first problem?” I asked.

  “That is my guess, yes.”

  “Doesn’t seem that insurmountable. I’m guessing it’s something along the lines of you need to have more of your followers than, uh, not-your-followers in your claimed lands.”

  “Correct.”

  “Okay, so not a big deal.”

  “It may be,” Eliza countered. “It all depends on the space your dukedom takes up. And who has chosen to live there already.”

  “Like those fucking goblins,” I said, muttering. I looked over at Nikolai.
“Any sign of them?”

  “Not as of yet, my lord.”

  “Goblins?” Eliza said. “There are goblins nearby?”

  “There are,” I said. “I don’t exactly know how many there are, or how near, but—”

  Eliza’s eyes widened, and she looked around at what we’d built. Or, rather, what my followers had built while I’d been out snagging treasure.

  At first glance, sure, it looked like the start to a proper little town. Emphasis on the little. But our long house had a cloth roof, and none of the lumber in the house’s walls exactly matched. The building that looked like a barn was a little better, but not by much. It at least had a wooden roof on it, and a stone foundation, so would likely survive a lot longer than the longhouse, which I guessed was going to be somewhat-almost-fine. Unless any rain fell. The gate looked impressive, with bulky granite blocks forming sturdy walls around a very, very thick wooden door. Minor issue, though: the wall, at present, could just be walked around with no problems. It was only about 80 yards long. That was it as far as actual structures went.

  “I apologize,” Eliza said, “I just, I would feel better if I— I must go.”

  She turned and walked away.

  Too confused to say anything, I watched her go. Her butt made her dress flounce in a rather impressive manner.

  “That could have gone better,” Nikolai said.

  Chapter Two

  I felt out of touch with the place, with Coggeshall.

  “Is that actually a barn?” I asked, pointing behind Nikolai.

  “It is,” he replied, and gestured to the bucket of milk he still held.

  “And you milked something in there?”

  “Of course not. Someone asked me to carry this bucket to the kitchen.”

  “We have a kitchen?”

  “We have a fire that—”

  “You’re sweating,” I said. “Let me take that.”

  I snatched the bucket from him, and he sighed as I took it.

  “I was completely in control of the bucket, my lord,” he said.

  “Yeah yeah,” I replied, catching his use of our stupid little code phrasing. ‘My lord’ meant he was happy with what I was doing. Whee. “Show me to the kitchen.”

  “But of course,” he said with a bow.

  “Knock that shit off.”

  “I would, normally,” he said, already walking, “but with our latest guest, I fear I might need to increase my efforts at court behavior.”

  “Northwoods? Why?”

  “Because you are going to play the dunce, and I am going to play the fop.”

  “Sounds like a terrible play.”

  “It is not the best of plans, but because she already assumes you are an idiot. So, by all means, continue as a dumbass, it is better to reinforce that particular thought line.”

  “Why?”

  “Gods, Montana, that girl is not your ally. She is not your friend. She is here to guide you just well enough to build something her father can snatch from you.”

  “Yeah, I got that, but—”

  “But you grow tired of being the fool?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Too bad, it is the best part you play.”

  The ‘kitchen’ was nothing more than a large fire pit with a spot where coals could be raked out. There were some tripods holding cauldrons and pots above the coals, and a rotisserie with a carcass of something spinning on a spit, its skin crackling. It smelled delicious, especially since I’d been living off old rations I had in my bag and somewhat ripe berries I’d foraged.

  Nikolai took the bucket from me and set it in front of the prep station, which was just a section of a tree trunk that had been planed on two sides. It was the thickest butcher block you could possibly imagine, and probably pretty nice to work at, though there was no where for your feet to slide under which seemed to make it ever so awkward to stand at.

  “Milk,” Nikolai said.

  A dwarf looked up from chopping a potato, and a big smile spread beneath his bushy beard.

  “Now now,” the dwarf said, “you need not trouble yourself with such lowly tasks, Master Nikolai. You could—”

  “Nonsense,” Nikolai said. “It was the least I could do.”

  Then the dwarf caught sight of me, and his eyes went wide. He looked down at the potatoes, as if I was a basilisk who would turn him to stone if our gazes met.

  I shook my head, and walked away.

  “That is another issue we need to address,” Nikolai said quietly as soon as we’d given some space to the dwarf.

  I felt the dwarf staring at me as I left.

  “They really hate me.”

  “It’s not hate,” Nikolai said. “It is fear. But a good fear in a way. They have heard stories about you. They saw you bring the little girl back, and they heard what those who went after you found. They will sleep better knowing you are here tonight, but there is a certain worry you are little more than a chained beast.”

  “Peachy.”

  “It is just another issue.”

  “We seem to have a lot of those.”

  “Yes. We do. But we also possess the means to overcome. So before I watch you spiral into something unpleasant, let us continue the tour.”

  Nikolai led me back to the barn, where I peeked inside. It was a big structure with a massive hay loft on the second floor. I counted 18 stalls, only some of which were currently occupied. Mostly by the animals that had hauled our wagons from Osterstadt. Notably missing: the predatory gravlux who’d been with the battenti. There was a small work area at the front where two battenti spoke quietly with two humans.

  I gave a little wave, which just garnered strange looks from the group.

  Nikolai pulled me outside and we continued on. “Those four are in charge of animal husbandry. The younger battenti is impressive indeed. Perhaps a whisperer of some kind. She truly seems to have a connection with animals.”

  “Where are the gravlux?” I asked.

  “They do not get along with, well, prey animals that well. They are currently being trained to act as mounts. Apparently, they work well to hunt with.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hunting will be quite important for us this winter, though I imagine, perhaps not as fundamental given the wealth you managed to acquire.”

  Nikolai looked down at the bag at my side.

  “I suppose that’s a question we need to address,” I said.

  “Where you got the coin?”

  “No. I mean, you can ask if you think it matters, but the question I have is where are we going to put it all?”

  “Did you steal the money?”

  “I didn’t steal the money,” I said. “Although, I mean, I suppose you could characterize it that way if you wanted to frame it as such.”

  “How about you just tell me where it came from?”

  “Remember that wyrm?” I asked. “The one where we—”

  “I recall that beast followed us and you slew it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I mean, I think it did follow us, but there was another inside there. A much bigger one that—”

  “A matriarch,” he whispered.

  “Yeah. That’s about the sound of it.”

  “You killed a matriarch?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  I sighed again, irritated how this conversation was going off the rails, but I gave him the abridged version of the fight in the cavern, and the hundred-plus wyrmlings.

  Nikolai nodded at me. “I am impressed. You were inventive and successful. Good job.”

  “Are you done being a patronizing dickhole?”

  He clenched his teeth together. “I am trying to compliment you.”

  “You suck at it.”

  “How about we add that to our list of issues and see where it ranks?”

  “Fine.”

  “Now, your question.”

  “Where do we put all this coin?”

  “Besides your bag?”

&
nbsp; “I’d prefer not to be a walking bank.”

  “It is a problem we have been thinking on.”

  “We?”

  “Your council? Those of us whom you have entrusted with building your little settlement?”

  “You and Lee—”

  “And the others. We have been speaking of a number of issues, mostly dealing with security and safety.”

  “Speaking of that—”

  “I was under the impression we were speaking of that.”

  “Right. Well, I mean, we were, but I was thinking of something—”

  “Try not to strain yourself.”

  “Nice. Where is Northwoods staying?”

  “In his palatial wagon, I imagine.”

  “No, Eliza.”

  “Are you planning on making a midnight—”

  “Absolutely not. I just wanted to know she’s safe, and besides our current sleeping conditions are—”

  “Unsafe?”

  “Embarrassing.”

  “That they are. As far as I know, her cadre of ladies-in-waiting have erected a tent and have a wagon a short distance from the long house. Closer to the trees.”

  “Closer to where the goblins came from?”

  “It might be that direction.”

  “And who directed them there?”

  “I cannot recall.”

  “I know you don’t like the girl—”

  “Nor do I trust her.”

  “Fine, but we still are responsible for her.”

  “You think I am unaware of that?”

  “No, but—”

  “She has plenty of protection.”

  “Fine, treasury,” I said, ripping the conversation back to where I’d wanted it to go initially. “What are we doing about that?”

  “Come with me.”

  The river was to the east of us, and the mountain face to the south. The gate and tunnel were roughly 200 yards from the river, and higher in elevation. The town, if you want to call our two buildings a town, was situated northwest of the tunnel entrance, about 100 yards distant. Far enough that the wall didn’t loom over us, close enough to give us a false sense of security. The barn was the closest building to both the river and the gate, and it had a very large fenced in enclosure attached to it, where the cattle and whatnot could graze outdoors if weather permitted. The longhouse took up a stretch of ground about 20 yards from the barn. The more I looked at it, the more I realized it was an eyesore.