Warsinger by James Baldwin (most inspirational books TXT) 📗

“Interesting content, I assume?” Istvan asked.

“If micromanaging castle elements is your thing, sure.” I played around with the Castle options briefly, calling up different menus. In addition to being able to repair or replace things, I could also add completely new structures: everything from better curtain walls through to an Oratory, which was used to house mages, and anti-aircraft defenses. Because of the flying units and magitech airships, military strategy in Archemi required you to think in all three dimensions: land, sea, and sky. Just like the real world.

I tried zooming the Infrastructure system out to the city level. The cost of the repairs needed to restore Karhad was enough to make a man cry – something to the tune of 500,000 olbia. But when I zoomed further out to the County level, I realized it wasn’t all bad. Racsa had a lot of resources, and it had a lot of arable land. The towns on the eastern borders of the province were had metal and mana refineries, and they were still generating profit. When I zoomed out to survey the whole province, it looked even better. The Demon had carved a scar of destruction from the south-west of Myszno, through Racsa to the southern edge of Litvy, leaving most of the eastern counties unscathed. My province had definitely taken an economic downturn, but it wasn’t unsalvageable. I was sitting on top of the worst-hit area in the territory. We were in crisis mode down here, but for many parts of the province - especially in the north - it was business as usual.

I went back to the list of quests and tried to look at them like an officer instead of an infantryman. For several minutes, my mind was just a dull black drone of the bullshit people with ADHD helplessly think about. Was I hungry? Are sleeping cats a liquid or a solid? Why did Archemi have a Pee Meter, but not a Poop Meter? But after dwelling on that important topic for maybe three seconds, the light switch in my brain flipped on. The trigger was the gnawing sensation in my own stomach.

“You know, about half of these quests are about food and water,” I said. “We can assign the Engineers to fix the water, right? Three counties are having trouble with refugees, and two don’t have anyone to pull in the harvest. That’s a self-solving problem right there. So before I fuck off to Dakhdir, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chapter 6

I went back to the Count's Suite to decompress after sorting out which quests I wanted to farm out, and which ones I wanted to do myself after we brought Suri home. My ears were still ringing as I let myself back into the cool musty quiet of Lord Bolza's old living quarters. The Ducal Suite was an apartment on the top floor of the Inner Keep, and it hadn’t been touched since Ashur had vacated it. Double doors opened into a spacious living area, with a fireplace, seating and a small polished wooden dining table. The furnishings were comfortable, if not well-worn. Like the rest of the castle livery, the apartment was decorated in green and silver. The chairs were upholstered in heavy, soft green leather. The duvets and curtains were green, heavily embroidered. The towels in the bathroom were the color of new spring leaves. A huge portrait of the Voivode and his family hung over the fireplace, staring aloofly across the dark, silent parlor. Every person in the picture, including the cute little lap dinosaur grinning in Bolza’s daughter’s arms, had died in the invasion.

The apartment had its own ornate black marble bathroom complete with floor-set tub, all of it currently non-functional because the bathtub was full of sand. Nasaku vampires had to sleep in sand to regenerate, which as a half blood, now included me. At the back of the living area was a short hallway with two bedroom suites. The larger of the two, the Duchess Suite, had slept the countess and their children. The second largest was the private quarters of the Voivode, dark and grandiose, with a four-poster bed and a wall of trophies, awards, and paintings. It had two wings: to the right was the tiny bedroom used by the Count’s valet; to the left was his study, which by itself was about the size of the sweaty little studio I’d rented in L.A. The Ducal Suite was easily the most luxurious place I had ever stayed in, the kind of mega-condo I never dreamed I could own. And I hated everything about it.

Grimacing, I slunk to the only room where I felt remotely comfortable: the study. Even that made me feel like a burglar prowling through someone else's home. The Voivode's papers were almost where he had left them, spread out over his desk. There was a pistol in the top drawer, unloaded, and a bowl of half-eaten pistachios sitting on the desk next to a pipe still stuffed with fragrant tobacco. A quill rested beside to a dried-out inkwell. When the Demon and his horde had stormed his city, he'd abandoned his desk and run to take charge - and had never returned. I shuffled the papers and nuts aside to clear some space, adjusted the fancy plush office chair to the right height, and tipped it back to put my feet up on the desk. I took a second to reach out telepathically to Karalti. She was out burning off some steam, hunting the agile herbivorous dinosaurs in the hills to the north of the castle.

“Okay.” I sighed into the still, dark air. “Hey, Tidbit: don't go too far, okay? We're still leaving for Dakhdir tonight.”

“Don't worry! I'll be back before highmoon,” she trilled. She sounded much more cheerful than I felt. “I just remembered I hadn't eaten in a while. I’ve been hungry lately, so I thought it might be a good