ASOIAF/Game Of Thrones: Ruler of Batannia

For the next few days, the Lannister raiding party did not attack Stony Sept. There was no profit in it. The ruins were easy to defend, difficult to assault quickly, and poor in loot. Raiders preferred places that could burn and pay. So they moved elsewhere, sweeping richer villages downstream of the Blue Fork, while Arthur’s scouts returned with reports of smoke, dead smallfolk, and roads becoming unsafe by the hour.

”Our few dozen men will not matter on the main battlefield,” Ena said one night by the campfire.

Arthur nodded. He knew it. In a war of tens of thousands, a small force like his could not decide the field unless used for something precise. Running blindly into the main Lannister host would not be courage. It would be a donation of corpses.

But hiding in ruins and waiting for the war to pass was not safety either.

Arthur opened the system panel and reviewed what remained.

Dinars: 44,000.

Soldiers: 4 Old Wolf Warriors, 2 Young Wolf Warriors, 5 Clan Warriors including Kator, 6 Raiders including Noli, and 2 Volunteers. Nineteen men total, including the wounded. Key members still included Ena, Beland, Tevet, and Horgos.

It was enough to survive, perhaps. Not enough to act.

He needed men. A base. Food. A place that belonged to him enough to answer when he gave orders. Stony Sept was not ideal, but the land nearby had water from the Blue Fork, usable stone, timber, and enough abandoned ground that ownership during war became a question answered by whoever had men standing on it.

Arthur turned to Ena and Kator. ”Take the fastest horses and ride to Seagard. Report everything to Lord Jason. Tell him Lannister raiders are burning villages near the Blue Fork, and ask for instructions. Avoid enemy forces. Do not fight unless you must.”

Kator saluted. ”Yes, Captain.”

Ena looked at him. ”And you?”

”I stay here.”

”To do what?”

”Something useful.”

”That is not an answer.”

”It is the answer I have time for.”

She stared at him for several seconds, clearly hating the answer, then nodded. ”Do not vanish again.”

”I will be in the ruins.”

”That is not reassuring.”

”It is accurate.”

Ena left with Kator before dawn.

Arthur watched them disappear into the dark, then returned to the ruined hall and opened the system store. First came soldiers. Fifty Battanian Volunteers for 1,500 dinars. Fifty Battanian Young Wolf Warriors for 1,000 dinars. Ten Battanian Noble Youths for 500 dinars. Three thousand dinars total. Golden light appeared outside the ruins, and 110 new figures stood in the open ground a moment later, wearing woodland gear and the familiar confused expressions of men who had just been dragged into existence by a system with no interest in explanations.

Arthur gave them to Beland and Noli to organize. Equipment came next: basic leather armor, axes, hunting bows, arrows, and spears. The new recruits were raw, but raw men could be shaped. Dead men could not.

Then Arthur found the item that changed the next stage of his plans.

[Village Construction Blueprint]

Cost: 5,000 dinars.

Effect: Build a basic village, maximum population 500.

Output: Generates resources worth 20,000 dinars per month in grain, furs, timber, and other goods.

The requirements were obscene. Stone, wood, food, peasants, militia, and more coin than a cautious man would enjoy spending. A complete build would cost far beyond what Arthur currently had if he bought everything at once. But the output was impossible to ignore. Twenty thousand dinars in monthly resources, with a net profit after maintenance that could break even in a few moons. More importantly, it would give him a base. Soldiers were useful. A place that produced food, coin, and intelligence was better.

He did the calculations twice.

Then he chose to gamble.

Arthur spent 21,600 dinars to recruit the village population and defense core: 450 Battanian peasants, veteran militia archers and spearmen, and regular militia archers and spearmen. Golden light flashed again and again across the open ground near Stony Sept until five hundred people stood there in stunned silence. Even the veterans stared. Arthur did not blame them. Armies appearing were one thing. Peasants appearing in bulk made reality look especially tired.

He purchased the minimum starting supplies of stone, wood, and food, along with the blueprint itself. The blueprint dissolved into light and sank into the ground. The new peasants and militia moved almost at once, as if invisible instructions had entered their bones. Stone and timber were drawn from system stockpiles as Arthur continued buying what he could afford. Foundations were marked. Frames rose. Walls began to form.

The speed was not natural.

Arthur had stopped expecting natural from the system.

Three days later, a village stood beside the ruins near the Blue Fork. Not finished, not beautiful, but real enough to cast shadows. Wood and stone houses lined simple streets. A rough palisade was taking shape. Small boats sat near the riverbank. Fields were being cleared. Militia patrolled the edges. Smoke rose from new hearths.

Arthur named it Newroot Village.

A beginning rooted in ruins. Too sentimental if spoken aloud, so he did not.

He appointed Horgos captain of the village guard, responsible for defense. A sharp-eyed older peasant named Cole became village head, handling daily matters and supplies. The ten Noble Youths became Arthur’s personal guard, with the best among them, Tandon Wayn, appointed as their captain. The names were new, the structure fragile, and the whole thing smelled like madness if looked at from the wrong angle. From the right one, it was the first true base he had owned in this world.

After arrangements were made, Arthur took the 110 newly recruited soldiers and the original veterans who were fit to move. The wounded remained in Newroot to recover.

He was going to train the recruits.

And if a Lannister raiding party happened to cross his path, he intended to be educational.