-=- Ginsu Mage -=-

S1E4: Whiskey and Games

-=- / // /// //// //// // / // \/ / -=-

The general nodded, then looked at Magister Honto and then to the king. “I’d like to test him. He may be useful.”

“Whoa up now,” I said, suddenly realising that things weren’t going the way I had hoped. “I told you I’m not some sort of sword swinging mage champion. You can just send me back home and try summoning another champion. I’m sure Magister Honto will get it right this time.”

“It’s not that easy,” the princess said, her voice soft, nearly a whisper. “Pacts were made. Bargains were struck.”

“So am I stuck here?” My mask slipped. I felt raw, exposed. Vulnerable.

Magister Honto spoke up. “No, you’ll return to your world under certain conditions. When Lanua occults Veusu, or when the Havlok’s gate reopens, or if you die. I’m pretty sure you’ll return if you die. Maybe.”

I heaved a long, dramatic sigh and examined the sky through the glass panels in the ceiling. Little fluffy clouds. “So besides me defenestrating myself and maybe returning to my world, how do we achieve the other two?”

“Vesnu will be occulted by Lanua in 118 seasons, 28 days, and Havlok’s gate will reopen when another suitable celestial stone is acquired,” Honto said with a slight quirk to his lips.

I swear, the man is secretly laughing at me.

“And how long is a season?”

“91 days, not including solstice.”

A number flashed in my vision as I tried to do the maths in my head. “29 point 41 years!? Seriously?” I exclaimed, unwilling to accept that answer.

“You could always acquire another celestial stone,” he offered, shrugging under his dark blue robes. “There’s supposed to be one in the ruins under Alwaer’s Crown.”

Squinting my eyes, I glared at him. “Let me guess, I’m here because of some trouble with Alwaer’s Crown and I need to kill a dragon or a Lich king that’s infesting the place, right?”

The lanky lad sitting at the right hand of the king snorted with laughter. “The ruins are on an island in the middle of the Agesian sea. Infested with pirates and cannibal ogres.”

“So not just the pirates?” I shot back. “There’s some cannibal ogres there too? Anything else I should know? Maybe some leprous pixies? Mutant elves? Giant dwarves?”

Laughing, he pushed away his plate and stood. Running thin fingers through his dirty blond hair, looked at me and shook his head before walking away. “Ask them about Heaven’s tears,” he said before vanishing out the door.

I looked around the table, before settling on the cold grey eyes of the king.

General Barrit pushed his plate back and stood as well. “Come with me and I’ll answer your questions.”

Honto started to object but the king interrupted “No, I have some questions for you. Leave Magister Johnson in the care of the general.”

-=- / // /// //// //// // / // \/ / -=-

We passed through a series of passages and courtyards before crossing a large exercise ground filled with armour clad guards smashing one another with wooden swords. Just watching them made my joints ache. The general led me to a large room filled with maps, charts ,and what looked like tabletop games composed of tiny soldiers. The two guards following us took up positions outside the door.

“This is the war room,” he said, moving around the tables until we stopped in front of a smaller one about six foot square. “Whiskey?”

“Oh hell’s yeah,” I said. “Lots.”

His lips quirked in a half smile as he grabbed a crystal decanter and poured a healthy amount into a couple of glasses.

I took the offered glass and tasted the amber liquid. Warm, smokey, with slight apple notes. Swallowing I said “Aged in applewood barrels?”

Barrit nodded. “The king’s own stock, it’s not sold.”

“Nice,” I quipped, emptying the glass and holding it out for a refill. “Hit me again. I feel like I’ve been kidnapped and brought to another world.”

He refilled the glass and I swear his eyes were twinkling. “You are not what I was expecting of a champion,” He admitted.

“Expecting someone younger, perhaps? Someone with thick muscles, born with a sword in both hands and crapping lightning out his bunghole?”

“HA!” Barrit slapped the edge of the table. “Yes, that’s what we were promised. I’m certain that the king is asking Honto some very uncomfortable questions right now.”

I took another pull from my glass. “So what are we here for?”

“I want to test your abilities,” Barrit said. “It’s simple as that. After you told us about the magic war games, I’m curious to see if it can be useful.”

“So that’s what we’re here for? To play games?”

“No games. I’ll set up some historic battles and ask what you would do if you were in charge.”

My interest was piqued and my mask started to slip. It sounded like a game to me. “Sure, sounds like fun.”

The general quickly unrolled a map and placed it on the table, then positioned troops in various positions on the map.

“In the battle of Drommand Hill,” he said, the forces of King Rindwan II encountered strong resistance from Earl Lindsay. You command the 3rd legion and have orders to take the keep on the hill. The mana tower must remain intact. What do you do?”

I examined the map and pieces, then began asking questions. “This is an archer, this is a pikeman, this is cavalry, but what are these guys?” I said, holding up a robed figurine

“That’s a royal mage, Elemental division.”

“What spells does he have, what are the range of the spells, how often can he cast them, how fast does the cavalry move, the footmen, range of the archers, is this terrain here up slope, what about my supply chain, are reinforcements available, communications, …”

I asked questions rapid-fire, each one answered without hesitation by the general as I built the scenario in my head. Finally, I had a good idea of how to attack the target.

“The traditional method would be a siege, build some catapults or trebuchet and demolish the keep…”

“What’s a trebuchet?”

I grinned at the general. “Oh, you’re gonna love trebuchet’s. It’s like a catapult, but more powerful.”

“But I can’t demolish the tower because it has some sort of enchanted thingie inside that’s expensive. So a frontal assault against the tower is all that remains because it has to be taken before reinforcements arrive in three days.”

Barrit nodded, sipping at his glass.

“That’s one possibility and incurs a heavy loss of life. The mages have to bust through the shield which means they’re tapped out and the soldiers have to bust in the keep. There’s a couple of mana potions, so the mages can recover in half an hour, which means if timed right, they can beat down the shield and have enough juice left to blow the gate, right?”

Barrit nodded again, watching me mull over the problem. “That’s exactly what…”

“But what about this side of the hill?” I said, pointing on the map. “It’s shielded from the keep. A small force with a couple of mages should be able to climb up, burrow through the rock until the they reach the basement area under the keep, and then launch an assault once they are inside. You said the basement ran about 50 foot deep, yeah? So it should be about 30 foot in from this area of the cliff. ”

He stared at the map. “The shield is a unipervious dome that extends 20 foot into the earth, the basements would not be covered… Yes, that would work too.”

I smiled at the acknowledgement. “The 3rd legion outnumber the defenders 4:1 so getting inside without assaulting the gate would leave two fully charged mages, then battle up a few levels to the courtyard, if they’re discovered. Knock out the shield, drop the gate, and invite the boys in for a party.”

“I lost a good friend in that battle,” General Barrit sighed. “He assaulted the front gate just like you said. It was a bloody battle and the tower was still lost. Your suggestion to burrow in is unorthodox, and may have saved the lives of a thousand men.”

“Ah, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said scratching my head awkwardly. I never know what to say in situations like this. It was a game to me, but it was personal history for Barrit.

“It was years ago,” Barrit said, massaging the back of his neck. “I married his widow and raised his daughter. His spirit can rest knowing his family is cared for. Let me set up another scenario.”

-=- / // /// //// //// // / // \/ / -=-

A pair of servants brought us lunch as we faced off over a war map. I had introduced Barrit to tabletop war games, complete with dice and stats, and marked up one of his maps into a grid. Modifying rules for games I was familiar with to suit the reality I was in, I explained how the game worked. He caught on quickly and was in the process of handing me my ass in our latest battle. The level in the bottle had dropped noticeably and I was truly enjoying myself playing against this experienced war veteran.

“I swing my heavy cavalry around the wooded area, they move 3 squares per turn, so they’ll impact your rear line.” Barrit chortled, moving his pieces across the huge map.

“Wait up!” I said, pulling a sheet of paper from a small stack “Secret orders - I have archers hidden in the woods. They attack your cavalry. Gimme the dice.”

The dismay on his face delightful. Introducing dice rolls to the war theatre meant that his scouts failed to find my hidden archers, allowing me to sucker him into committing his forces against my back line. I laughed gleefully as trumpets sounded and his men were hammered by arrows and pincered by support from my rear lines.

He examined the chaos on the map and sighed. “I think you’re going to win this one too.”

Not long after that declaration, he managed to win a pyrrhic victory on the field.

Hours passed as we played, cursing and laughing as we fought one another with dice and paper, until one of the soldiers opened the door and announced the time.

“I’m impressed with your abilities,” General Barrit said, waving a hand over the map. “I’d feel confident having you as an advisor.”

I raised my glass to him, more than slightly drunk after hours of drinking his private stock. “You’re an excellent opponent and I’d hate to face you on any battlefield, real or imagined.”

“Let’s head back to the west wing for dinner,” He said, walking around the table and motioning for me to follow.

My stomach filled with rocks. I had just started relaxing and enjoying myself, letting the mask slip off and … No, I can’t deal with all these strangers and their stares.

“I think I’d rather not,” I said, desperately thinking of some excuse to hide myself. “I’m really exhausted with all … this stuff, what’s going on, you know? I need some time to rest and get my head together. Besides, I just recovered from COVID a few months ago and I’m still not feeling 100%”

The general nodded in sympathy at my pathetic excuse. “I understand. I’ll have the guards bring you back to your quarters.” He paused, then asked. “What’s COVID?”

While he didn’t understand the concept of a virus, he grasped the idea of disease quickly and insisted that he would see to the matter. Whatever, as long as it gets me some seclusion I’ll play the sick card.

-=- / // /// //// //// // / // \/ / -=-

[[ next chappie 18 nov ]]