Chapter 40: Keeping your Allies Happy is an Essential Grimworld Strategy

Summoned! To GrimWorld (LitRPG, Base Building, 4x, RimWorld)

The following morning, with rain pattering on the roof of a tent erected by the Mir, the admins of the three tribes met together, with Rosemary present too. Whether she had somehow invited herself or whether Jasmine had asked her along, Marcus wasn’t sure. But he was glad of Rosemary’s presence. The young woman might be irritating in many ways, but she was the tribe’s best negotiator.

‘A toast,’ Fasrin, leader of the Mir raised a leather wineskin and tipped it into his mouth, then licked his lips from beneath his long, thin moustache. ‘To Marcus, the divinely inspired artist.’ He passed the leather container to Rosemary, who struggled with it in both hands before she lined up the mouthpiece.

‘Oh…’ the drink came suddenly and spilled on her chin, running down her neck and chest. As Fasrin chortled with laughter, Rosemary frowned, then gathered herself with a laugh. ‘And here’s to Fasrin, the divinely inspired rider.’

Next to take the skin was Jasmine. Having learned from her sister, Jasmine was much more careful to be very slow as she approached the moment that the liquid came to the mouthpiece. Even so, a good bit of the drink spilled and Jasmine hurriedly brought the wineskin back down, then passed it to Marcus and wiped her mouth afterwards.

‘Thank you,’ Marcus caught Fasrin’s eye, then he wrestled with the wineskin. It was surprisingly heavy. A sour scent came from the narrow, horn mouthpiece. Hoping his distaste did not show, Marcus raised the skin, and raised it a bit more, and again. When the drink came it was with a rush and he too found his face covered in the spirit. Eyes watering from the fumes, mouth full of a strong vodka-like drink, Marcus struggled to put the skin down and swallow.

Slapping his thigh with delight, Fasrin only laughed even more when Marcus tried to give him a baleful glance. Handing the skin to Sina on his left, Marcus felt the burning presence of the drink in his throat, chest, and stomach. For a sudden, awful moment he wondered had he been poisoned. But no, of course not. Fasrin had drunk from the same wineskin. It was just the alcohol. The drink was strong.

With a slight smile on her face, Sina took a drink without spilling a drop, nor with any sign of discomfort. How did she manage that? And was there a slight smile on her lips as she looked at him? Marcus closed his mouth firmly and folded his arms.

The leader of the Red Moon tribe, Priestess Jilawas, shook her head as she was passed the wineskin and gave it to Salawa who was sat beside her and he too passed it on, to a woman of the Mir who sat beside Fasrin. That woman took a deep drink with practiced ease and the wineskin was returned to Fasrin, completing the circle.

‘Why did you not drink?’ Fasrin asked the priestess with an angry tone and expression. Was he joking? Rosemary seemed to think so, because she laughed.

‘Your toast was irreverent: Marcus is not guided by a god; his work is mortal,’ replied Jilawas calmly.

Salawa added, ‘We do not intoxicate ourselves.’

With a shrug, Fasrin twisted a stopper into the wineskin and put it down. ‘I am not here to argue. I respect your – unnecessarily austere – way of life. Let us talk about something more important.’

‘And I respect your hedonistic and wasteful way of life.’ Jilwas had her hands clasped together in her lap in a pose that Marcus associated with meditation. ‘What do you wish to discuss.’

‘It is impossible for the Mir to complete the Ultima quest. We roam freely over the grass of Grimworld and do not construct buildings. It is impossible for the Red Moon tribe to complete the Ultima quest. You live as an unchanging part of the forest. The Fins, though, they have a base and with our help they can grow strong.’

‘Why should that matter?’

‘You know why.’ Eyes on the priestess with the tattooed arms, Fasrin ran his hand along his moustache. ‘Otherwise the Black Skulls, or the Ravagers, or …’ he spat the word with distaste, ‘the Guhma, will grow ever stronger and destroy our ways of living.’

Watching for her response, Marcus was surprised when Jilwas turned to Sina, ‘Daghada says he will help the Fins, but you must become his acolytes.’

‘Daghada? You want us to worship Daghada? What does that involve?’ Sina replied.

‘I will instruct you. You will worship Daghada and if you complete the Ultima quest, he will be pre-eminent among the gods.’

Sina shook her head. ‘Not if that involves human sacrifice.’

‘If you wish to be filled with the god’s magic, you must cut the beating heart from your sacrifice.’ The tone of Jilwas’ voice was matter-of-fact even though Marcus had the impression her words had been chosen to shock. ‘If you wish to be just his acolytes, no sacrifices are needed.’

‘He will help your crops grow and your animals breed,’ added Salawa.

‘Do you worship a god?’ Marcus asked Fasrin.

‘Grahkes, god of lightning and storms.’

‘And what will he say if Daghada is first among the gods?’

‘First among the lesser gods you should say. Igalla, planet Grimworld herself, is the most mighty of the gods and all must follow her rules.’ Fasrin looked at the Mir woman beside him.

Gazing earnestly around the room with eyes that were made more intense through having been ringed in black, the woman raised her arms, silver ringlets clinking. ‘Grahkes told me in a dream that the Mir should help the Fins. Otherwise, the Mir and our god will go the same way as the Ark Andulan and their gods.’

In the silence that followed, it seemed to Marcus that everyone present was aware of how important this moment was. That it represented a new direction for them, one with profound consequences. As far as he was concerned, it was a direction that would be immensely helpful for the Fins. ‘Right so, let’s make sure everyone is clear. The Fins will worship Daghada. The Red Moon tribe and the Mir will help us work towards the Ultima quest. If we achieve it, we preserve and respect the way of life of the Red Moon tribe and the Mir.’

‘We can’t just worship a new god like that,’ only now that turned to her did Marcus realise that Sina was visibly shocked by the conversation about gods.

Strangely, Marcus found himself catching Rosemary’s eye and imploring her to help. By the laws of the game-world that existed on Grimworld it made complete sense to Marcus that their tribe should have a god as a kind of patron. It was an advantage and one he had already been wondering about. There was nothing sacrilegious about it. Perhaps Sina’s difficulty was that she was from Earth and had been brought up in a very Christian environment. Surely, Rosemary could see the advantage of this three-way alliance and would assist him persuade Sina?

‘I hated the gods of the Ark Andulan,’ said Rosemary, picking up on Marcus’s invitation to speak, ‘because they were the gods of the slavers. But Daghada is a god of nature. He’ll look after us. I’ve always wanted to live more in harmony with plants and animals.’

‘… beating hearts…’, muttered Sina.

‘The worship of Daghada is joyful, isn’t it priestess?’ Rosemary continued smoothly, ‘I mean the rituals for us would be a pleasure.’

‘I will instruct you. Libation. Celebration. Procreation. Birth. Death. To join with Daghada is to join the flow of a deep river that circles the planet and has no beginning or end.’

‘We need time to consult everyone in the Fins,’ Sina pointed out and that, supposed Marcus, was fair enough.

‘We can stay here three, or perhaps four days,’ said Fasrin. ‘And in that time, we will help you build your defences. You must decide by then.’ The leader of the Mir got up, signalling the meeting was at an end. It was his tent after all, thought Marcus, and if he wanted to be abrupt, that was his choice.

‘One more matter,’ Jilawas waved her hands back and forth until the rustle of movement within the tent had stopped. ‘Rosemary entreated me that the statue of the Otaxel should come back to the Fins. But in return for our help in restoring it to this place, the Red Moon people want a large statue from Marcus, something suitable for our home in the forest. Rosemary promised that Marcus would do this for us. Do you honour her pledge?’ She had turned her dark eyes on his.

‘I honour the pledge. It will be a pleasure.’

With that the priestess stood up and leaned towards him, so that the red feathers of her headgear nearly touched his face. ‘We will also help here for three days. Then you will come with us.’

With that statement a moment of silence fell and then the tent cleared, except for Fasrin and, he noted, Rosemary, who stayed behind with the leader of the Mir.

‘Now you have seen it, are you satisfied with the wonder?’ Marcus was bent over at the entrance to the tent, looking back at the couple.

Fasrin nodded. ‘I once saw the sun rise at dawn through an icy mist and two vast circles of pale white and rose filled the sky. I thought then that I would never see anything more beautiful. I was wrong.’

‘That is a very generous way of putting it. So can we complete our trade now?’

‘Open your trade menu.’

Marcus did so.

‘There. It is done.’

The option to complete the trade appeared and Marcus took it.

With a grunt, Fasrin turned away to pick up his wineskin again.

‘Awil, the slave?’

‘I’ll send all the goods over later.’

Goods. Speaking of a person as if they were a bag of nails jarred with Marcus, who remembered his own captivity. Still, for now it was a case of establishing an alliance with the Mir. In time, they might be persuaded to do without slaves.

Hurrying after Jasmine and Sina, who were walking together back into the stockade, Marcus took Jasmine’s arm. After a moment of surprise, she smiled at him.

‘We should go to the stockpile by the forest,’ said Sina, who was walking on his left.

‘Why?’ asked Marcus.

‘We need to make a plan for the next three days, while we have our new allies to help give us a boost.’

‘That meeting was exciting,’ said Jasmine to him. ‘After so many days with just two of us, it feels like we were in the dark and now the sun has come up. Suddenly, we can achieve so much.’

‘I was thinking we should designate the area around the second stockpile as a second base. That way if one is captured or destroyed, we still have the other. All the new people can have their houses there. It’s more efficient too.’ Sina was slightly breathless, walking fast while expounding her ideas. ‘Perhaps all being together is better for some activities, like cooking, but for cutting wood and all the workshop activities, I think we should locate the new homes right beside zones designated for crafts.’

‘I agree,’ said Jasmine. ‘And we need to keep space in the main base for new types of building as we unlock them.'

Simultaneously, both women looked at Marcus for his response; he nodded. ‘That sounds wise.’

A flat rectangle in a sea of tall grass, the second stockpile was half full of logs and planks. Beyond it was the line of the forest. As soon as she got there, Sina began walking around, drawing out where she wanted to create the new zones, zones which Marcus could see using the menu as bright blue and purple areas. Jasmine too was busy with her hands, drawing an extension of the gravel path, so that it divided around the residences and the stockpile.

‘There,’ said Sina, ‘and the residential zone has room for eight cottages.’

‘Just one entrance for the stockade?’ asked Jasmine.

Without lifting her eyes from whatever menu she had open, Sina replied, ‘I think so.’

‘That’s not very efficient for going out to the forest.’

‘We could put the gate on that side. I just feel we’ll be coming and going between the bases a lot, so it makes more sense to place it on the east.’

‘We could have two gates?’

‘The gate is a weak point though. Marcus, what do you think?’

‘I don’t really know. One gate to the east makes sense.’

‘That’s fine then,’ said Jasmine, her voice good-natured. ‘I wonder how much of this we can get done in three days… Wouldn’t it be good if we could also swap our huts for cottages at the main base?’

‘Oh…’ Sina stopped.

The expression on her face was so full of yearning, Marcus found himself chuckling. Poor Sina. She had grown up in a palace, presumably one with dozens of rooms. And while she had adapted to Grimworld with almost no complaints, it must be hard for her, living in a hut.

‘Oh, now that would be lovely. Two rooms! What luxury.’