Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

“Why aren’t we on top of the tower?” I asked, pointing to the flat expanse on top of the central tower rising behind us. “Seems like the better view.” All of us students were standing with High Paladin Edaine on the walkway that ringed the interior of the fort and overlooked the cleared grounds below. It was a great spot for throwing rocks or boiling oil on any attackers, but we didn’t have any of those, thankfully. Edaine had asked us to focus on the far side of the cleared field where the forest still loomed, and the extra height the tower offered would have made for a better vantage point.

“The central tower is restricted to captain’s rank and above except by invitation,” the armored woman replied, a hint of humor in her voice. “More specifically, the top floor holds the apartments reserved for Grand Marshal Jorin, and the roof is where he lands with his griffon when they arrive. If the better view is worth the consequences breaking into a general’s bedchamber would get you, by all means feel free.”

The others chuckled dutifully, and Basil elbowed me gently in the ribs, smiling. It was good to see him again, and I wished I could have found him to arrange being roommates instead of ending up stuck with the Deepkin named Brux. It was the room I wanted, yes, but the moment I’d walked in the dwarf had directed my every movement, telling me where to put things, making rules for when we’d rise and retire, and identifying which things in the room were his and not to be touched. My knowledge of dwarves started and ended with the one conversation I’d had with the half-dwarf trader Findek, but one way or the other I hadn’t expected them to be so picky about everything. Brux was on the far side of the group with his own kind, apparently just as glad as me to get some space.

The High Paladin raised her hands for attention, quelling the chatter that had grown amongst the students. “I know some of you may have been put off by the Grand Marshal’s harsh words earlier, and I want to reassure you that there is no better place you could be than in War Camp. The things you will learn here can be understood almost nowhere else, and the prizes that hang within your grasp through the service we will train you for will put your Tournament winnings to shame.”

That made my ears perk up. I’d won a Mythic and a handful of Epics during the Rising Stars Tournament. Well, I’d also ended up with an oversized deck full of high-end Chaos cards, but that had been its own anthill. I’d shown up hoping for card knowledge and dueling skill, but if more winnings were in the offing… maybe I could put up with a picky dwarf after all.

“You will be trained to be lieutenants in the King’s army,” Edaine continued. “It will be hard; there will be risks; but those of you from Treledyne have proven yourselves capable through your dueling, and our allies from other nations have performed similar feats in their own homes.”

“And your paladins?” Gerad asked softly, arms crossed, standing ramrod straight. “Are warriors of the faith exempt from qualifying as the rest of us have done?”

The three young warriors standing to one side glared at the Prince as one. Their armor was nowhere near as ornate or impressive as their leader’s, but they cut imposing figures nonetheless. Edaine, for her part, returned a calm answer even though I saw her jaw clench first. “Our glorious King has seen fit in his wisdom to allow the faith to train our own recruits and integrate them into the army at his command. Should you find this unsatisfactory, your Highness, I suggest you take it up with your father.”

Gerad grimaced but said nothing more.

The High Paladin paused as if to check her own irritation, put on a smile that appeared at least somewhat genuine, and said, “I understand that many of you are accustomed to giving orders rather than taking them. This is part of what your training will include. You may be scions of your people already, but now you will be the standard bearers for humanity. I will be patient with you as you learn your new roles and duties… but do not presume that I will coddle you. Obey your instructors – myself included – as you would your own parents, and all will be well.”

I had to swallow a chuckle at that one, but the others all seemed to take it seriously. Basil went so far as to look as if he’d just been scolded. Apparently being a good little boy for mommy and daddy was a big deal amongst the noble set. That was worth remembering.

“As prime duelists, you will hold a special place in the King’s army.” The High Paladin gestured out over the cleared area beyond our metal fort. I saw nothing but dirt and tree stumps. “To show you what that means so we can begin your instruction, I have arranged a demonstration.”

She ducked her head and whispered something even though no one was close enough to hear her. A panel on the side of her armor under the left arm slid open of its own accord, revealing a small pocketed area, from which she withdrew a round mirror the size of her palm. She turned away, looking out over the clearing.

“Did she just talk to her armor?” I muttered to Basil.

“It may very well understand her,” he whispered back. “It’s part of the Korikana Mythic set, and she’s wearing all the pieces. I’ve never seen a complete set before.” He sounded awed.

“Wish I could see it like you do,” I grumbled. That soul ability of his made me jealous every time I thought of it. I have to develop a new soul card. It’s going to hold me back if I don’t.

“The armor does indeed hear me,” Edaine said with her back still turned. “It hears you too, and it sees you even when I am not looking. I will be happy to show you the cards at a more opportune moment, young Master Hull. For now, please attend.”

That got my attention. There was no way she could have heard us whispering of her own accord, what with the noise of a dozen people moving, the sounds of the breeze in the nearby forest, and the everyday noise of all the servants and workers going on below.

Edaine caught the sunlight with her mirror and flashed it once, twice, and three times into the trees at the far end of the clearing. A moment later a squad of soldiers trotted into view. One man stood in front and ten more marched at his heels in two lines of five. Some carried long spears that towered over their own heads, and others carried shields nearly as tall as themselves. From a distance I heard the man in front bark an order, and they halted.

“This is the basic unit of the King’s army,” the High Paladin told us. “Squadrons of ten enlisted men led by a sergeant. Each is issued a soul card as a fighting companion.”

She flicked her mirror at the men twice more, and down below I could see Order source springing to life and the mist of nearly a dozen summons all at once. When the whiteness cleared, there were more than twenty men where before there had been only ten. At a command from the sergeant, they formed into a single long line, with every other soldier holding a shield and the ones in between leveling their long spears into the gaps to strike beyond the shield wall. The sergeant, satisfied with the formation, trotted around to the backside of the line where he could command without being exposed.

“This is an infantry squadron,” Edaine told us. “In normal operations they would be accompanied by two or three Sourcerers for support.”

“Uh,” I said, stepping forward. “Sorry, but I don’t know what that is.”

The High Paladin turned to me and blinked, surprised. “Ah, forgive me. I’m used to a full complement of students out of the nobility. How unkind of me. Sourcerers are enlisted troops who wield no soul cards nor weapons but are trained to cultivate as much source as possible and use it on behalf of the squadron. Ideally each squad has one of Water to redirect damage away from living people toward their cards and one of Air to refresh the troops for multiple attacks. In special circumstances we also have Order Sourcerers to aid with card draw.”

I grunted, eyeing the men in formation on the field. It sounded awfully handy to have someone else managing source for you, especially if they were ones you didn’t cultivate yourself.

“Similar units can be found in the Cavalry and Artillery divisions; you will see them in action another day. For now I simply want to show you how our army meets threats on the most basic level.”

She flashed her signal mirror at a different spot in the trees, and one lone figure stepped forth, striding across the open ground to a spot where a ground cloth was draped over a handful of stumps.

“That is one of our corporals from another squadron,” she informed us. “Each squadron usually has one or two of their best enlisted who rise to corporal either by advancing their own personal soul or by elevating the card they were assigned. Occasionally they are entrusted with an additional card or two. This particular fellow is of special use to us today, as his cards are not the standard-issue Shieldbearer or Pikeman.”

The distant figure reached down and pulled back the ground cloth, revealing an unexpected pool of water beneath. The moment he did so, dozens of small creatures boiled up out of the pond, shaking water off themselves.

The little troglodytes turned to their summoner, who pointed them toward the waiting squadron of pikemen and shieldbearers. They streamed toward the waiting soldiers, their cries sounding like nothing but tinny squawks from atop our fortified wall. They just kept streaming out of the pool, and I pitied the men facing them. There had to have been thirty of the little bastards.

“One of the things you should notice first is that the Spawning Pool has been producing for a good half an hour,” the High Paladin said in a sing-song, teacherly voice. “Unlike the duels you’re used to, in war you use every advantage you can scrape for yourself. The primary amongst those is preparation. Get to the fight with your best combos primed and ready to go, because you can be sure your enemy will do the same.”

The clash between the troglodyte summons and the soldiers was shockingly loud even at a distance. The pikemen worked their long lances like fire pokers, skewering one of the little critters after the next, leaving glittering shards in their wake while they clawed ineffectively at the shield wall. I saw one manage to get a clawed hand over the top of a shield, and a Shieldbearer went down under no fewer than four troglodytes. The soldier himself soon turned into card shards, and the others around him drew daggers, killing the intruding trogs and closing the shield wall with cold efficiency.

“What if that hadn’t been a summons soldier?” one girl asked. Afi was her name; I remembered seeing her at the disastrous dinner with Hestorus during the Tournament. “What if it had been a living man?”

“Training accidents do happen,” Edaine allowed. “Though if any of our enlisted men were to fall to an enemy as simple-minded and straightforward as this one, we’d pay out his widow and count ourselves lucky we found a weak link before a real battle. You can be certain this squadron will be given extra drills by their sergeant just for the lapse you saw there. But there, you see? This skirmish will be over in two shakes.”

She was right – more than half the troglodytes were already nothing but glittering dust, and more died on spearpoints with every passing moment. She sent a signal with her mirror to the troglodyte summoner, who hurried to another ground cloth I hadn’t seen before, which revealed another Spawning Pool overrun with troggies, which hurried after their dying brethren at the beleaguered squadron.

“Are you trying to kill our troops?” the Prince asked sharply.

“It is a reality of war that sometimes you are overmatched,” the High Paladin responded calmly. “And while it is good for you all to see a squadron in action, you have not been recruited to be sergeants in charge of rank-and-file recruits. You are duelists with full decks, or very nearly. You are each a squadron unto yourselves.” She grabbed a horn from where it was slung over her shoulder and lifted it to her lips, sounding a long, clear, melodic blast.

A shadow flickered by overhead, making me flinch. At first I thought it was some monstrous bird, or maybe the Grand Marshal’s griffon, but it was a man soaring through the air, a summoned hawk as big as himself flying not far behind.

As he arced overhead and I got the sun out of my eyes, I saw a snapping mane of blond on his head. It was Basil’s brother.

“Showing off,” my friend muttered, sounding sour. “Any of the captains could have done this demonstration.”

He cleared the entire fort and landed with an audible boom in the midst of the mass of troglodytes trying to flank the overwhelmed squadron. Little bodies went flying, and he stamped his feet one after the other, each impact sounding like a miniature earthquake.

“Damage and range buffs,” Basil reported, sounding grudgingly impressed. “Counts for him and all his summons.”

The hawk summons was wreaking its own havoc among the milling trogs, each snap of its beak and slash of its claws sending the sparkle of destroyed summons cards flying. Just like that, the tide of the battle turned and the squadron rallied.

“You are correct, Master Hintal,” Edaine said. “Any lieutenant could do as much, if not quite with so much flair. The fact is, though, that most of our trained lieutenants are in the field with the bulk of the army well to the west, clearing dangerous beasts and angry squatters from the land the King intends to make the fourth great city of humanity. Your brother Gale has remained for training. You will all be lucky to learn from him. He stood where you do now not ten years past.”

“A formidable man,” one of the elves said. “Most attractive.”

I glanced over. Was that a girl elf? I thought so. Men weren’t supposed to be that pretty. Basil, for his part, merely huffed and scowled, looking for some reason to Esmi, who was engrossed in the battle below.

“This is part of what you will do,” Edaine told us. “Your captains will keep track of your little corner of whatever battle you are in and send you where the action is hottest. Sometimes it will be to go to the aid of a squadron, as you see here, but more often it will be to battle similarly equipped duelists on the enemy side. Their lieutenants, if you will.”

“So it’s just dueling after all,” one of the dwarves said. “That’s a lot of words to say something simple.”

“Have you ever dueled without a Dome, with friendly and enemy units on all sides, your ears full of the cries of the dying, where any stray arrow or Spell could end you before you even come to grips with your opponent?” the High Paladin said archly. “If so, then yes, it’s just dueling after all. If that sounds in the least bit complicated, though, be glad of the training we will provide.”

Down below, Gale mopped up the last of the troglodytes, turned, and sent an overexaggerated bow in our direction. I couldn’t help but respect the balls on the fellow despite Basil’s uncharacteristic anger. All the other students clapped and whistled their approval, and the High Paladin joined in. Basil wasn’t clapping, though, so I didn’t either. Esmi was, and I could tell it bothered him. What’s the problem there? I thought those two had resolved their troubles. Perhaps I should have visited them before War Camp after all, if only to know what was going on. Gale bounded into the sky and was gone in a blink, followed by his hawk.

“Your time here will be focused on everything you need to succeed on the battlefield. We have a few maxims to guide all our efforts: Know Thy Fellows, Know Thy Enemy, Know Thy History, and Know Thyself. Every class, every grouping, every field exercise, and every discussion will be focused on one of these. You’ll learn to trust each other –”

Not likely, I thought, sneaking a glance at Gerad. Every last thing about him was in order, pristine. I hated him.

“– you’ll learn to refine your decks and elevate your cards, you’ll learn to obey your captains, and you’ll learn about warfare with the Orcs. Your days will be full and you’ll be glad of your bunk each night. If you have half a brain, you’ll realize this is the best possible place to be for a duelist wishing to rise.”

I watched the squadron down among the tree stumps retreating back into the trees. The fancy lady was right – this was a great place to be, and I wanted to know every scrap of knowledge they could throw at me. And how are you going to do that and take care of the Lows as well?

I didn’t have any idea. I’d need to skip out on some sleep to sneak back into the city after everyone retired for the evening and then back into the fort before first light. It was a tall order, and I didn’t know how I could get it all done. But I had to try. I’d gone my whole life without a single opportunity. I wasn’t going to back down now just because suddenly I had too many.