Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
The herald’s knights parted, forming two lines.
Bestata turned toward Sean and Kosandion. Her lips were bloodless. “Thank you for your hospitality, innkeeper.”
Sean nodded.
Bestata swallowed and strode between the two columns of the herald’s knights. Her people followed in a silent, grim line.
“The Warlord thanks Gertrude Hunt for safekeeping House Meer, so they may be in good health for their judgement,” the herald announced. “We bid you farewell.”
She turned and followed the rest of the knights across the bridge. I tracked them to the portal until they were gone.
“We will take yet another short break,” Gaston said.
26
Game Day, Game Day! Clap with us! Oond the oombole is our fish, if he can’t do it, you can only wish! Wooo! ::shakes the pompoms::
Doesn’t make sense, but it rhymes!
Four candidates stood on the stage, awaiting their scores. Oond floated, seemingly serene unless you were familiar with the oomboles and caught the slight shivering of his fins and erect tail. Amphie looked confident, her shoulders held back, her spine straight. Next to her Prysen Ol simply waited, his face a handsome blank. Lady Wexyn smiled, looking innocently clueless. During the break, her forest of golden hair decorations had been pruned to a single kokoshnik-like golden comb modestly studded with grape-sized purple jewels.
The arena fell silent. Orata was milking every last drop of drama out of the elimination, because the crowning of a rebel Gaheas king and near-complete destruction of a vampire house simply weren’t thrilling enough.
A large central screen, positioned above the exit to the portal, came on, showing a table with four rows and multiple columns labeled with Progress scoring categories: culture, medicine, science, etc. The final column was marked “Total Score.”
“It is my privilege and honor to now announce the results of the game,” Gaston proclaimed. “In third place…Oond of the oomboles!”
Oond’s name popped up in the third row down, as the scores in his columns populated. The oomboles broke into their version of applause, and I had to look away because the visual cacophony of waving fins and colors was worse than staring into a strobe light.
The side screens above the delegate sections displayed a detailed breakdown of his statistics and strategies. His population was happy, his economy was solid, if a little less diverse than it could’ve been, and the unique Witness military units he’d engineered had no trouble defending his realm. Oond had managed to go through the entire game without invading anyone. Instead of relying on brute force conquest, Oond would sidle up next to the settlement he wanted to annex and send his missionaries in. The missionaries would build schools, hospitals, and temples. They would employ people. He would spend a couple of generations indoctrinating the populace and then they would voluntarily join him.
However, he failed to account for the inherent tribalism of humanoid creatures. His mono-religion created room for bias and discrimination against the less or differently devout. As his science advanced, so did free thinking, because science hinged on questioning everything, and a god-king couldn’t afford to be questioned. He had to suppress certain branches of the natural sciences to keep civil unrest down, and that took a big chunk out of his score.
“In second place…” Gaston boomed, “…Prysen Ol of the Kai!”
Prysen Ol’s name appeared in the table on the big screen, in the second row from the top. His statistics and scores replaced Oond’s on the side screens, offering a detailed look into his strategy. The Kai didn’t do cheering. They stomped instead, driving their six limbs into the floor of their section in rhythmic approval.
Prysen had settled on a military republic with limited representation, citizen rights, and a focus on conquest. His nation quickly became a conquering juggernaut. Prysen didn’t get involved in large-scale wars. He found a target he knew he could take and blitzed it, expanding his nation one small bite at a time. For the first half of the game, he was always at war, yet it never disrupted the lives of ordinary citizens. Unlike Bestata, he had invested in arts, sciences, and trade. His capital city was a shining jewel of civilization.
However, he also relied on slave labor, and once he exhausted the supply of the barbarian settlements in his immediate vicinity, that source of free workers dried up. Shifting to a paid work force proved costly and difficult. Inflation combined with labor shortages gave rise to corruption and tax avoidance. Cracks began to appear in the colossus’ massive legs, and his two failed attempts to break through Nycati’s monstrous fortifications only widened them. Still, his score was 62 points higher than Oond’s.
The two women remaining on stage couldn’t have looked any different. Amphie stood ramrod-straight, stone-faced, looking like a sword someone thrust into the floor. She kept touching the heavy silver necklace around her neck, stroking it as if it were a talisman. Lady Wexyn was smiling at Kosandion. He watched her, his face impassive. She gave him a little wink.