Chương 63

The Lord of Stonehaven I followed Nok'Thun through the large doors into what he said had once been the feast hall. It definitely wasn't a feast hall anymore. The place was crammed full of artwork, statues, sculptures, chests overflowing with gems and jewels, and mountains of fine fabrics and gaudy clothing. I could imagine how the conversation with the interior designer had gone. Interior designer: When I work with a client, I like to create a little word bank to capture their tastes and preferences.

If you had to choose three words to describe the 'vibe' you're going for in this room, what would they be? Client: Expensive. Interior designer: Okay, we can factor in cost, but I was thinking more about the aesthetic. Client: Expensive. Interior designer: Yes… we can absolutely incorporate some expensive pieces, but I was hoping to land on a theme of some sort. Minimalist? Rustic? Contemporary? Client: Expensive. Interior designer: Right… I see.

I'm sure that, judged on their individual merits, each item was an example of fine craftsmanship. But put them all together? It was tacky as shit and a perfect example that wealth cannot buy taste. The final nail in the incredibly gaudy coffin was the throne resting on the raised platform at the end of the hall. It was made from gold and had hundreds of gems set into the metal.

I was relieved to see that the Lord of Stonehaven had chosen not to sit on the throne, instead opting to perch on a delightfully ordinary wooden chair that had been placed beside it. I'd thought Nok'Thun had looked rough. Lord Thargorn made him look like the picture of health. He was an elderly orc, with deep lines etched into his pale green skin. The flesh around his jaw and neck sagged, as though he'd lost lots of weight in a short time and his skin hadn't been able to keep up.

I guessed that when they'd freed him from the dungeon, they'd taken him back to his old rooms so he could wash and change. The problem was – after enduring a crash-course diet designed by the infamous nutritionist Lokta'Inif – his clothes no longer fit. He wore simple, high-quality blue robes, but they hung from him like he was a child wearing his dad's clothes. He attempted to rise when Nok'Thun and I approached, but a coughing fit seized him, and he sagged back into the chair.

"Don't overexert yourself, Lord Thargorn," said Nok'Thun, hurrying to his master's side. He retrieved a flask from beside the throne and held it to the Lord's lips so he could take a sip. The old orc scoffed, taking the flask for himself and batting his servant's hands away.

"I may not be as fit as I once was, but I'm not an invalid, Nok'Thun," he said, before turning his gaze to me.

"So… you're Peter Brookes. You know, I've only been free of the dungeon for a few hours, yet I've already heard dozens of tales of your deeds. Defeating Lokta'Inif in single combat. Clearing the nearby forests of dangerous creatures. Bringing an end to the bandit leader Bok'than's reign of terror." He coughed violently, then paused to take a sip of water and wipe his mouth with his sleeve.

"And then there are some that are a little more bizarre. Apparently, you have some peculiar hobbies. One person told me you like to use your fingers as blades to slice open people's stomachs, then pull up a chair and watch their intestines spill out. Another claimed that you like to rip out people's still-beating hearts. And then there was the one about you having some sort of perverse fetish involving demons and whips–" Wait… it was perfectly conceivable that word of the first two could have spread.

Sure, they were grossly exaggerated, but such was the nature of rumours. But the last one… That had happened inside the Tower. There was no way he could have known that unless– Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"Oh, and quite possibly the strangest one of all… you're not actually a hero. Rather, you're little more than the bumbling manservant of a great and powerful magus, who, as well as being an unrivalled master of the arcane arts, is known across the land for his impeccable fashion sense and majestic wizard's hat."

"Don't forget the robe, Lord," added Nok'Thun helpfully.

"Ah, yes. Of course. A majestic wizard's hat and robe." Rel. That squirrelly little bastard. We'd see how majestic his wizard hat looked when I took a big fat sh–"Peter…" said Nok'Thun. I glanced up to find them both studying me nervously. I supposed muttering under my breath about wanting to carry out violent, unhygienic acts of revenge wasn't the smartest move when in the company of people who'd spent the past few months suffering at the hands of a psychopath. I cleared my throat.

"So… you mentioned bandits," I said.

"That's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." I filled Lord Thargorn in on our adventures in the forest, our run-in with Bok'than and his merry band, and the birth of Pete's Peasant Patrol.

"The bandits were starting to become a problem even before Lokta'Inif arrived," said Thargon.

"They've grown bolder recently, and even the regular patrols we sent out were barely enough to keep them in check. Now that–" Thargorn's words were cut short by another coughing fit. Honestly, the guy looked so fragile I was sure it wouldn't take much to finish him off. Hell, I'd be worried about farting too close to him in case the breeze knocked him over and he broke his hip.

"My Lord, you need food and rest," said Nok'Thun.

"Please, let me go to the kitchens and prepare you a meal. You're no good to the city in this condition."

"There'll be time for food and sleep later," replied Thargorn, waving his servant's concerns aside.

"The citizens of Stonehaven have already suffered enough in my absence." I had a genius idea. What he needed was food he could eat on the go. Food that was both nutritionally dense and filling… A Nutri-All bar appeared in my hand.

"Eat this," I said, the metallic packaging crinkling as I held it out to Thargorn.

"Does it taste good? Not particularly. Does it look appetising? Fuck no. Does it do the job? As much as it pains me to admit it – what with the bar being an insult to food everywhere – I can't deny that it's effective. A few bites of that and you'll be raring to go." Thargorn nodded gratefully. His hands trembled slightly as he held it, and it took him a few attempts to open the packaging. As the bar was revealed in all its green, sludgy glory, his nose wrinkled in distaste.

He lifted it and gave it a cautious sniff, his eyes widening slightly at the complete lack of smell. He took a tentative bite.

"Based purely on appearances, I expected it to be the worst food I'd ever tasted. It was almost a pleasant surprise when I realised that it was completely flavourless…" He took another bite.

"And, I have to admit… I already feel a little better." I retrieved several more from my inventory and handed them to Nok'Thun.

"Here, have these. One a day is all that's needed."

"So," said Thargorn, who was actually looking a little brighter. Part of me wondered if there was some sort of magic or weird alien voodoo involved in making the bars, because there was no way that stuff had worked its way through his digestive system already.

"The bandit problem… I wish I could promise to send out patrols immediately to scour the countryside, but I'm afraid that won't be possible. If I weren't the one responsible for fixing the mess Lokta'Inif has caused, I'd be impressed by how much damage she's done in a few months. The city guard has been disbanded, the treasury emptied, and the citizens taxed into oblivion. There are months of work to be done here before I can even start to think about the world beyond the walls." She emptied the treasury?

My eyes drifted over the contents of the room, and Thargorn, as if reading my thoughts, said, "Most of the items in this room were stolen from citizens of the city. If I were to sell them, I'd be little better than Lokta'Inif, and I cannot afford to lose the people's trust when morale is already so low. No, it will all need to be returned to the rightful owners." I sighed inwardly. It looked as if my time at the top of the rankings for acquired wealth was going to be very short lived…

"If you had to guess," I said, "how much would it cost to get the city back on its feet as quickly as possible?" Thargorn considered the question for a few moments, his eyes darting around in a way that suggested there was a great deal of mental arithmetic taking place in his head.

"Well," he said slowly, "there are a number of expenses to consider… the repair of buildings and homes. Cleaning and restoring the roads. Re-establishing the city guard. Securing the city's food supply. Reinstating administrative staff and officials. Feeding and housing displaced citizens. Medical care for the injured…" I held up a hand to cut him off.

"Give me numbers, Thargorn," I said.

"What are we talking?"

"It will take time – perhaps even several months – before we reach the point where taxation can once again fund these expenses," he replied.

"In the meantime… I estimate we will need around thirty thousand gold a day to fund the rebuilding of the city." I ran the numbers in my head. Thirty thousand gold a day for a hundred days. Three million gold. For fuck's sake. As they weren't Trialists, they wouldn't be able to access the inventory system in the pouch, so I'd have to hand over the money in a slightly more… dramatic fashion. I moved aside a bunch of the statues, carvings, and chests to clear a large area of floor.

Thargorn and Nok'Thun watched me work, a little confused as I'd not said a word since asking for the estimate on the numbers. When a sack containing a thousand gold coins appeared in my hand, their eyes widened. When I dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor and it fell on its side, a flood of gold coins poured from the open mouth of the sack, and they gasped.

When it was followed by bag after bag, until there was a mountain of gold that the greediest of dragons would be proud of, I thought they were going to pass out.

"I'll drop by regularly over the next few weeks to keep the funds topped up." It turned out it was actually quite difficult to give away half a million gold coins. They took up a ridiculous amount of space. After making my first donation to the 'Return Stonehaven to Its Former Glory Fund,' I had 8, 858, 342 gold left. It was still enough to keep me in first place on the leaderboard for acquired wealth. But for how long? I guess we'd see.