Warbreaker's Rage: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure (The Connected System Book 3), page 28
“It’s a big lake,” Thomas said, his tone indicating he wasn’t sure of his own reasoning. “The camp could be further to the west.”
“But that wouldn’t be the southern shore,” Ed argued.
“I am not lying,” Elora said, still calm. “I cannot give the precise location of the camp because of the oaths, but I can tell you the general direction. It is three days from here.”
Loch glanced at Cerie, who shrugged. It wasn’t anything she could verify.
Loch sighed. This was going to be a long interrogation.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Loch’s assumption was proven correct. They hadn’t learned much, but what they did learn was enough to scare the hell out of Loch.
Out of all of them.
Elora hadn’t been able to give exact numbers in terms of Classes and Levels, just rough estimates. But it was enough to worry Loch.
Clan Brady and the other survivors were badly outleveled and outnumbered. The lowest elf in the expedition was Level Five and would have a Class. The majority of the Silver Bark forces were in the Level Seven to Ten range, which still put them higher than Clan Brady.
The only advantage that Clan Brady currently held was that the Silver Bark Clan did not worry about them. Not yet. The elves were content to let Clan Brady exist.
For now.
As long as it did not grow too strong too fast.
The Resource Dungeon would have changed that, but the only elves that knew of its existence were either dead or defected. That would change, though.
Once the Silver Bark Elders realized that Elora and her team were not coming back, assumed dead, they would send out scouts and in stronger teams. The Resource Dungeon would be discovered. More scouts would be sent to watch the growing Clan.
Loch had a dilemma.
Slow down the growth of the Clan or speed it up and get stronger.
Neither sounded good.
Slowing down would keep the Silver Barks uninterested, but that wouldn’t last. Or maybe the elves would think the humans would make good slaves and attack to conquer.
Getting stronger would just make that attack happen sooner rather than later.
Staying the same wasn’t an option.
There were too many refugees still coming in.
Either Clan Brady sent them away or they took them in. Where could they send them? Anyone coming to the Clan from any direction said pretty much the same thing. There was nowhere else. It was either going all the way into Concord, out toward Dover, or to Northwood.
Taking them in, which of course Loch would do, meant growing the Clan in order to feed and house everyone. He was concerned with providing weapons, armor, and training, but that was secondary. Loch was mostly worried about how to feed everyone and give them space to live.
Maybe there was a larger camp closer. Chichester to the west? Durham to the east? Barrington was a large town, there had to be a lot of survivors there. Strafford was closer. Were there people there?
The problem was that Loch didn’t know.
Refugees and survivors kept coming to Northwood from all directions. Did that mean there was nothing out there? The furthest that he’d heard of, and he hadn’t reviewed the latest newcomers census data yet, were Epsom to the west and Lee to the east, Nottingham to the south, and Pittsfield to the north. The surrounding towns, as was expected.
But why were they coming to Northwood instead of going to the larger cities of Concord and Dover?
Clan Brady had to send out scouting parties. They needed to know what was happening in the wider world. More of New Hampshire at first. The rest of the world would follow.
But how? They didn’t have people to send out on what would probably be months-long expeditions and possibly, most likely, not survive. What would be the point?
If the scouts died, Loch and the Clan would never know. There had to be a better way.
He’d been thinking of portals earlier for transporting goods, but was there a way to communicate long distances?
Loch sat down on the concrete stairs, ignoring the two guards doing a bad job standing at attention.
“Relax,” he told them without turning around.
“What’s that?” one asked.
“Just relax, no need to stand at attention like that. It’s not the military.”
The two looked at each other, waiting for the other to move first. Neither relaxed.
Loch sighed.
“What Levels are you?” he asked, shifting to turn around and look at the two guards.
Young men, both probably low to middle twenties. They should have been in college, not standing outside the old high school wearing hockey and baseball pads, carrying swords belted at their hips, the blades exposed. Both men stood straight but were careful to keep their legs clear of the swords. They also carried spears, which were nothing more than tree branches stripped of bark with the ends sharpened to a point.
“I’m Level Four, sir,” the one on the left said. He had long blond hair and an unkempt beard.
“Level Five,” the second said proudly, standing a little straighter somehow. “I got the Guardsman Class,”—he deflated a little—“it’s Common.”
Loch thought about what Elora and Cerie had said about the majority of people in a Clan. They had Common Classes and Leveled slowly. The people that made a society function. They’d never be more than what they were now. Higher Leveled of course, but still guards.
“I should be Level Five soon,” the first said. “I can feel that I’m close. Maybe my next kill. Definitely the one after that. Hoping I’ll get the Guardsman Class.”
According to Elora, in the eyes of the Clan, she was barely above these men in rank. All of them were nothing but fodder to be used as the higher Levels and Clan Elders saw fit. Just numbers. Millions of people like that in the Connected System.
All of them still Connected, still feeding the Connection with their use of Spirit. Just not as much as the true elites of the Connection. People like Loch.
A true Classist system.
There had to be a way to fix that.
Could he? Should he?
Some people were content as they were, not wanting to become elite at anything. They wanted a family and to be able to provide for that family. To live safe and happy lives. To be happy, spend time with family and friends.
Loch knew he wanted all that, but he knew he would never be content with just that. Not now that he’d started Advancing. It wasn’t a need for power, he hoped, but more a need for growth. He’d gotten hints of what was out there, what could be out there. It was dangerous but also exciting.
And there were his responsibilities.
The main driving force.
He had people to protect.
Not just his girls but an entire community. A growing community.
He had the power and would use it.
But for people like the guards? He’d do what he could to make sure they got the lives they wanted.
And it wouldn’t be a system like the Silver Bark had.
These people would matter.
Loch walked back into the office, a bottle of water in hand. Ed was already sitting at Kristin’s desk. She was off cataloging the latest loot brought in by a scavenging team. The team was resting before going out again. They’d encountered some Mutated Ticks, one of the team Leveling to Five and gaining a Class.
It was called Forager, an Uncommon Class. It basically was as the name implied.
Cerie had told them to expect it, giving them a rundown on what it entailed. Now Kristin was confirming while going through what the team had found.
Darren wasn’t in his office, probably out with the guards or training up a new batch.
That left Ed and Loch.
Neither had anything pressing. It was a rare calm.
A good opportunity to get into the Clan system.
Loch had the window open in front of him, words only he could see. Translucent, he could see Ed through the blue tint.
“First, this stupid name,” Loch said. “Overjarl.”
“It’s a strange one,” Ed said, leaning back in the chair, careful not to mess up any of Kristin’s piles on top of the desk. “I’d never heard it. Jarl was a title used by the Vikings, I believe, but never Overjarl.”
“It just sounds weird. I know I need to have a title, the System forces it. But there has to be something better.”
“Clanchief is a classic, or just chief.”
“I like chief,” Loch said. “It’s simple. Everyone knows it’s the name of a clan or tribe’s leader, but it doesn’t sound pretentious like King or Overjarl.”
CLAN BRADY
OVERJARL: LOCHLAN BRADY
CLAN POPULATION: 106
CLAN VASSALS
CLAN VAGABONDS
Loch concentrated on the Overjarl part, just as Cerie had told him to do. The Connected System was relatively easy to navigate and change, the parts that Connected could change. It was all done mentally, the notifications and menus appearing in front of his vision.
A new prompt appeared.
CHANGE OVERJARL TITLE
Loch mentally thought, ‘Yes.’
NEW TITLE?
He thought, ‘Chief,’ watching the word appear in his vision. Once done, the prompt disappeared, returning to the main Clan page. Instead of Overjarl, it now said Chief. A notification filled his vision, imposing itself over the Clan menu.
CLAN ANNOUNCEMENT: OVERJARL LOCHLAN BRADY HAS CHANGED THE TITLE OF CLAN RULER TO CHIEF.
“That’ll be annoying if it happens every time I do something,” Loch muttered.
Ed just shrugged.
Loch focused on the last two lines of the page. Unlike the top, the two looked slightly different, almost raised. It reminded Loch of tabs. Which made sense as he knew both could be expanded. Clan Vassals meant the families that had joined Clan Brady.
He hated the use of the word vassal.
Could that be changed too?
Concentrating, Loch smiled as the prompt appeared.
He changed Clan Vassals to Allied Families.
That didn’t prompt a Clan announcement.
He left the vagabond part alone. There was a negative connotation to the word, but it fit.
Most of the current Clan Brady members were in that category. Only four families had joined, including Ed’s small family of three. Not everyone in the school had officially joined the Clan either.
“Glad that part was easy,” Loch said. “The next part should be a little harder.”
“Quests,” Ed said, shaking his head. “It’s just so weird to have quests.”
“We kind of always had them, or the idea of it. They just weren’t called quests. Get groceries. Mow the lawn. Even ones at work. Finish the project by the deadline.”
Ed laughed.
“When you explain it like that…”
Loch mentally opened up the Clan Quest tab. Not that it was a tab, not like in the old games he’d played, but it was how he thought of it. He needed to define how to move through the Clan menus, so he visualized it like the old games.
The quest tab was empty.
“What are we going to use for rewards?” Ed asked. “And that’s where your analogy ends. Our quests never had rewards.”
“Sure they did. Get paid, get food, be satisfied that the lawn looks good.”
Loch twisted the plastic cap off his bottle of water. He was thirsty and wanted to down it in one drink but knew he had to conserve. That bottle was supposed to last him all day. They had a lot of bottled water, but it wouldn’t last forever.
A purification station was one of the first things being built besides the wall, out behind the school in a small storage structure. It was going to be simple. Buckets of water brought up from the lake or rainwater collected in barrels would then be boiled over a fire. Simple and effective.
Water was one thing they weren’t going to run short of.
But they still needed to conserve the bottled water. The purification system wasn’t up and running and they were low on canteens and other ways of carrying water. Bottles were still easiest.
“But we can’t use that as rewards now,” Loch said. “Not in the Connection. There needs to be something tangible.”
“Did the fairy tell you that?”
“Cerie did, yes,” Loch said, glancing at Ed.
The man was looking out the office windows. Ed listened to Cerie and took her advice but seemed to have an issue with her. Loch wasn’t sure what it was and he wasn’t going to pry. It wasn’t his business. If it ended up becoming an issue that affected the Clan, then he’d pry.
“We don’t have anything to offer,” Ed said. “Didn’t your video games give…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Loot? Didn’t quests give loot as rewards?”
“Yes,” Loch answered, trying not to roll his eyes.
Ed had a teenage son. Loch knew Mike had played video games. Ed wasn’t as clueless as he was acting.
“But you’re right,” Loch continued. “We don’t have any loot to give. Not yet. But we can give Spirit,” he explained. “It’s a way for gatherers to Level. From what Cerie said, they don’t fight monsters, so they don’t earn Spirit experience from kills, and they don’t make anything, so don’t generate it that way.”
“Doesn’t harvesting earn them Spirit?” Ed asked, leaning forward, very interested.
His Class, Magistrate, was a Support Class. It was different from the Combat Classes, like Loch’s Warbreaker, and even the Gathering and Profession Classes. Each Support Class earned experience in different ways, related to what the Class was. For Ed, since his Class was about governing, he earned experience in anything related to that.
Support, Gathering, and Profession Classes all earned experience slowly.
Which was why Ed was interested in learning how to earn more experience.
“Yes, but very little. And the scavengers aren’t earning any.”
“How do we determine how much Spirit to give?”
“We don’t, the Connection will do that. Cerie says it’ll be variable depending on what they kill, what Levels and in what combinations.”
Ed grunted, leaning back.
“We should keep it simple,” Ed said. “Nothing specific. None of that ‘killed 20 deer’ stuff.”
Loch smiled. Ed had been paying attention to Mike’s games.
“Agreed,” he said. “We can keep it generic and basic. Kill 20 animals for food.”
“Smart. They won’t be able to just kill 20 of anything. It’ll make them concentrate on things that can be eaten, which then benefits the whole Clan.”
Words appeared in the window, floating before Loch’s eyes.
CLAN QUEST: KILL 20 ANIMALS FOR FOOD.
KILL AND HARVEST 20 ANIMALS OR MONSTERS. BRING THE FOOD BACK TO THE CLAN.
REWARD: SPIRIT
ADDITIONAL REWARD FOR ANY ANIMAL PARTS OR HIDES RETURNED.
Loch was surprised. All he’d thought was killing the 20 animals. The Connected filled in the rest and added the bonus. Which made sense. If they killed hide-bearing animals, there would also be the hide. And some animals, like the Mutated Ticks, had carapace parts that could be harvested.
Not that he wanted to eat tick meat.
“How will they get the quests?” Ed asked.
“The Holdstone can create an interface like a quest board. We can mount it in the lobby.”
Ed grunted again, taking a long drink from his bottle of water. There wasn’t much left in his.
“Can it make a quest to grow fruit?” Ed asked.
“No. That’s something we have to do ourselves. Once we can grow it, it can make a quest to harvest it.”
“We need fruit,” Ed said. “We’ll have to start worrying about scurvy soon.” He leaned forward, eyes wide. He held out his hands, looking at them. “Can we even get scurvy with these Adapted bodies?”
“I don’t want to find out.”
Chapter Thirty
Loch stared at the interface mounted to the wall in the lobby. It was a large crystal that he’d gotten from the Holdstone in the school’s basement. Created from pure Spirit, the crystal had substance. He didn’t think too hard about how the Holdstone had created a crystal from nothing. About six inches in diameter, multi-faceted, and glowing a light blue, he’d mounted it about four feet off the ground, attaching it to a brick wall.
Which had involved nothing more than touching it to the brick. It attached itself.
People were gathering around him, watching the faint pulsing of the crystal.
The Connection had sent out an announcement to the Clan when he’d finished making the quests. There were six total at this point, mostly covering the various gathering and scavenging missions. Once they had real crafters, he’d make some for those. He’d also added one for assisting with the building and farming. Those were tied to the number of hours worked.
He stepped away, letting the people move closer and examine the crystal. It was easy to use: just touch it and a menu would appear. Turning in the quest worked the same way.
Some of the quests would be limited in who could do them. Level restrictions, the number of people able to choose that quest, but for now, the six were open and repeatable.
He’d thought about making each repeated attempt require more Resources, but the point was to Level as many people as fast as possible. He made it as easy as the Connection would allow.
Somehow Loch doubted other Clans in the Connection did it that way. From the conversations with Elora, and echoed by Cerie, it seemed the other major Clans only cared about Leveling up their elites.
And nobility.
Always the nobility over others.
That never seemed to change, no matter what world or race.
The people in the lobby started talking excitedly, as most of them were able to get at least one quest. He hoped the quests would help incentivize people to actually get out and help. Too many were content to sit around all day and do nothing.
They were scared, he understood that, but they just weren’t adapting well to their new lives. They had to get up and be involved. Loch didn’t want to force them to, but it was getting to that point.
