Summoned! To an RPG World (LitRPG)

Chapter 11: The Necromancer's Offer

When Lord Arval asked me about my past victories, the others in the room – Carlena and Parrin – looked at me expectantly and I realised that this was a pivotal moment. Part of my mind scrambled to put together a story about being a real general. Perhaps I could remember enough about the campaigns of Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar from my games of Classic War to reconstruct convincing episodes? This part of my mind saw my companions as being in need of reassurance and justified making up a history for myself as a great general on the grounds of the value of inspiring confidence in their commander.

On the other hand, if I lied now, I would be stuck with having to remember my backstory for my entire time here and inevitably the fake history would have to grow and grow. Even thinking about that made me feel tired. Moreover, these people were no fools, none of them. Probably, they would be able to detect my bullshit and evasions.

If we were to turn the fortunes of the realm around and conquer the twenty-five kingdoms, Arval, Carlena and Parrin needed to become heroes in their own right and be utterly dependable too. You didn't lay the foundation of a victorious team on lies.

Then too, I knew that if there was ever a time to explain that I was not, in fact, an experienced general it was now, when they had no qualms at all about my leadership.

'I'll answer that question, Lord Arval, but first I have to explain something about the world I come from.

'In my old world, there are no menus for planning the realm, no magic at all and no levels to be obtained by specialists like us.'

'No menus?' Lord Arval shook his bald head. 'It must be chaos. How does anything get done? What would stop everyone from making their own plans?'

'Staying on the topic of my battles...' I really didn't want to be deflected into the politics I'd left behind, 'we have games... tournaments... that are very much like what's happening in this world, Regnia. And it is in these tournaments that I have fought and won battles like this one: much bigger battles, with thousands of troops.'

I wanted to try and express that my game playing experience was a transferable skill to their world. That no commander in real life participated in battles with enemy magic and monsters coming into action, whereas as a gamer I had fought in hundreds. But as I struggled with how to phrase this point, Lord Arval spoke.

'Tournaments?' he looked puzzled. 'Of thousands?'

'Yes, indeed.'

'Did the soldiers die though?' asked Carlena.

'They died as if they were soldiers, but most were only... models.'

'Golems?' she offered.

'Yes. That's quite a good comparison.'

No one spoke and I could not judge the mood of the room until Lord Arval said, 'well sire, if you would, can you tell us about one of your battles in a tournament?' This was greeted by looks of interest from Parrin and Carlena.

'Happily.' Whether it was the flush of victory that was still upon me, or the wine, or the sense that these people were still with me, despite my confession, I really did feel happy and I enjoyed recounting the final battle of the Crown of the Frost Giant Kings quest in Storm Wars. There, I'd led a raid of over two hundred PCs as we fought alongside a dwarven army in a battle with frost giants.

I was just explaining how we broke through the shield wall of the bodyguard of the frost giant king when the sergeant of the ballista crew came up the stairs.

'Apologies for the interruption sire, we have the coin.'

'How much.'

'Ten gold, a hundred and seventy-two silver and a thousand one hundred and eighteen copper. Plus a few bent and clipped ones.'

I knew from the economy menus that a gold was ten silver and a silver was ten copper, so the total was 3,838 copper. Arriving at that figure was manageable in my head but to divide it by our 114 soldiers wasn't possible without a calculator. Or maybe I could come at this a different way. If each soldier got 30, that would be 3,420. Then that left 418 divided by 114, which was somewhere between 3 and 4.

'Right so, give every soldier thirty-three copper, including our dead. The families can have it. There will be about eighty left over. That can go in the castle coffers.'

'Very well sire.'

The soldiers were getting about a month's pay. Not a bad reward and surely one that would help with my popularity.

The sergeant left and I stood up, feeling the aches of my tired muscles. 'I'll tell you about the rest of that encounter another time, if you are still interested.

'Lord Arval, any thoughts on our dispositions before I go?'

The Paladin rubbed his beard. 'It might be wise to keep the light cavalry here to scout and half the archers and the ballista. The rest could be granted two days leave. Then give the other half their two days and once that is over, station most of the army here with enough at Carrick to hold the walls against a sea invader.'

'Make it so,' I did the best to keep a smile from my face as I uttered the words. 'I'll return to the keep at Carrick. I'll be needing a cart.'

'Wait. Shouldn't we consider going on the offensive?' Carlena asked. 'Their morale must be shaken right now.'

The three of them looked at me.

'That had crossed my mind but let's suppose we march down the valley and engage the other half of their army. What's the best possible outcome? We regain our farmland. What's the worst possible outcome? We lose everything: the whole realm and perhaps our lives. So even if there is an advantage with us, it's a mistake to take the gamble. Especially as this is an excellent defensive position.'

The Sorceress nodded and I continued on to the top of the stairs.

'What about the prisoners, sire?' asked Chancellor Parrin, bringing me to a halt.

'What's the usual practice?'

The chancellor shrugged, 'keep them locked up and perhaps arrange an exchange or include them in truce negotiations?'

'The problem there is food. We are desperately short. There's no tradition of killing prisoners then?'

'Only among evil kingdoms,' said Lord Arval pointedly.

'Or putting them to work in the mines?'

'That's possible,' observed Carlena, 'but it has consequences. Since they will hate you, it will lower your popularity among the people, which is critically low as it is.'

'Right. Oh well. Keep them under guard here for now, minimal rations. Chancellor, as soon as you feel up to it, I'd appreciate you scouting the enemy again.'

'Certainly sire, I'll set out shortly.'

I checked his character sheet, he was only on 32 from 53 hit points. 'Rest until you are healed.'

'I can scout while wounded. I will recover.'

'No. Please order the Cleric to remain here and don't set out until you've had at least two of her heals.'

He nodded and still poised to descend the stairs – impatient as I was to get back to Carrick – I addressed the Paladin.

'Lord Arval, you'll want to remain here and see to our army.'

'Indeed sire.'

'And do you have a heal spell?'

He nodded. 'Although I am out of mana for now.'

'Then please use it on Parrin when you can. And how about you Sorceress?'

'I'll accompany you back to Carrick, if I may? I recover mana quicker resting properly in my tower.'

'With pleasure.'

With a final nod to them all and a farewell to those who were staying, I managed the staircase with care, then called for a cart.

***​

On arrival at Carrick after an extremely bumpy journey (during which I searched and discovered I could upgrade the road, which when I had completed more urgent upgrades would be useful for swift movement as well as a more comfortable journey), I bid goodbye to Carlena.

After entering the keep I found Figus, my charismatic ambassador, seated outside the solar, waiting for me. He was eating an apple and this caused him some embarrassment as he stood up to greet me and couldn't find a place to put it. Eventually, he just gave a twitch of apology, put it on the arm of the chair and made his bow.

'I hear congratulations are in order, sire.'

'You know about the battle at Three Ways?'

'Lord Arval sent a rider with the good news. That's why the bell of the church is ringing.'

Now he drew my attention to it, I could hear the faint peal of a bell.

'Could I trouble your highness for an account of the battle?'

'Soon enough, but first tell me about your mission.' I strode up to the throne and took my seat, waving away the guards and servants, so that just the two of us occupied the large room. It was late and the setting sun turned the roof and the far wall scarlet.

'Well sire, I rode through Trolland while there was light, skirting their villages and sleeping in the barn of a farmer whose wife took a liking to me. On the morning of the second day I crossed the river Everwald and into the territory of the Necromancer. By afternoon I met the man himself, holding court in a large tent among his troops. And I have to say, I didn't care for the stench of his troops. There must have been a hundred zombies among them.'

'So he is on the march?'

'Possibly, that wasn't clear from anything that was said. They could have been training or patrolling.

'And what was he like?'

'A human male in his forties, maybe, you can never tell with spellcasters. Short black hair, grey hair at the temples. Frown lines. He didn't look like a man who had a lot of laughs. He was dressed in silks, black and purple. Several impressive rings, two gem-covered bracelets and a silver necklace.'

'Magic?'

'I couldn't use Detect Magic, obviously, so I can't be sure, but I'd say the bracelets could be.'

'Go on.'

'Well, I introduced myself and explained my mission and it startled him. I don't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't a trade deal. We talked it over and when he realised it was an iron for food agreement, he grabbed my arm, stared into my eyes and said I had to tell you the following: "King Carlos. You are the first of any rulers to send an ambassador to me. I appreciate that. And I appreciate the opportunity to send you our excess food in return for iron. Here's my offer: for each cargo of fifteen iron ingots that arrives to our docks, I'll provide you with a hundred-and-fifty units of food in the form of sacks of grain and rice."'

I let out a whistle. My intuition was that this was a good enough rate to solve the food crisis and with room to spare; I'd do some detailed calculations later.

'It sounds like a very favourable offer to me too sire. And he also said to tell you this: "Despite my reputation, I'm an honourable man and I make for a dependable ally."'

'Interesting. He was suggesting a military alliance?'

'I think so.'

'And did you believe him, about being dependable?'

'He sounded sincere,' Figus shrugged, 'but you know what they say: promises made out of necessity are made to be broken.'

'That's very wise, Figus, but what do you mean by necessity?'

'No trading partners; no one even sending communications; no allies. He must be desperate to avoid complete isolation and eventual conquest.'

'You are very wise Figus. I shall be careful. Even so, I'm very pleased with the results of your mission.'

My ambassador glanced at me, perhaps to confirm I was being sincere. I doubted King Carlos ever gave thanks or compliments. Then Figus nodded. 'And now, sire, if I may, can I trouble you for the details of the battle.'

It was no trouble at all recounting our victory at Three Ways and Figus made for a particularly attentive audience, encouraging me to provide specific details, such as those of the sounds and smells. Only when a servant came to light the lamps and inform me that dinner was ready did I stop. And even then, having invited him to join me, our conversation was entirely about the battle.

At last, I retired to my bed, wanting to check on the high-level economic menus before sleep and think through the offer from the Necromancer.




Greyland

Economy Military People
Currently building: hunting lodge, level 3

Monthly trade income: 0
Monthly tax income: 54 gold
Treasury: 5 gold, 5 silver

Daily food consumption: 15 units

Grain yield: 0 due in 17 days
Vegetable yield: 35 food units due in 19 days
Wool yield: 3 bales due in 32 days
Meat yield: 6 units daily
Timber yield: 17 planks daily
Iron yield: 3 ingots daily
Quarry yield: 6 blocks daily
Smithy yield: steel pickaxes on hold. Awaiting iron.
Weaving yield: 4 bolts daily

Research: Shipbuilding One


Resources:
Wheat: 12 food units
Vegetables: 20 food units
Meat: 6 food units
Wool: 6 bales
Timber: 150 planks
Iron: 0 ingots
Stone: 39 blocks
Cloth: 4 bolts

During the day, iron and meat production had edged up, as I had anticipated, and that was very welcome. Iron output should go up again after I assigned the waiting 24 steel pickaxes from the smithy, which I did right away. Food consumption, however, had gone up to 15 from 13, perhaps the result of capturing around 30 enemy soldiers. Even on minimal rations, that was a noticeable drain. It left me only four days away from running out. I felt a chill all over my body, despite the fact I was under warm covers. All the good of the today's victory could be undone unless I solved this issue.

Once I had a ship making a weekly journey to the Necromancer, I'd have another 21 units a day. Enough to feed everyone and build up stores against hard times. Obviously, I had to accept his offer.

I fell asleep while looking at the timer on Shipbuilding 1: two days and fifteen hours.