Warfang: (Sky Realms Online Book 5): A LitRPG Series

by Troy Osgood

  But there was enough of an edge for the strong Firbolg and Dwarf to wedge them into the joint. They pushed down, lifting the lid just enough to grab it with their free hands. Dropping the axes, the metal clattering to the stone, they each got their other hand under the lid. Hall could see the two straining, Roxhard having a little bit of a harder time than Jackoby.

  He thought about rushing over, taking a side, but that would only get in the Wardens’ way.

  Slowly, they moved the lid forward, sliding it off the chest. Inch by inch until it was clear. They let it drop. The heavy stone slammed into the ground, cracking, small pieces breaking off. Hall was surprised. He had expected it to be thin, but it wasn’t. The lid was a full two inches thick of solid stone.

  Neither Warden looked into the chest.

  Hall approached with a little nervousness. The last chest like this one he had found, carved out of the rock itself, had turned out to belong to the Duntins. Taking the contents had led the raiders to Skara Brae. The construction of this chest was the same, so it seemed to be a Duntin cache, but to be carved from the stone meant it had been made when the entire cavern complex was. This complex belonged to Bastian the Sage. So the chest and contents must have been his.

  Or did he arrive after the Duntins had built it?

  Did it matter?

  He walked forward, stepping around the shattered lid. Stopping in front of the chest, he looked down and whistled, eyes widening in surprise.

  Chapter 12

  The chest was two feet high, three feet long and two deep. The walls were an inch thick of stone. No cracks, all the surfaces rubbed smooth.

  Inside it was stacked deep with items.

  Daggers, a hand axe, wands, bracers, a couple of rings and necklaces. Even a couple of idols. All piled on top of what looked to be leather armor. He didn’t need to touch any of it to tell that it was all magical. That much power in one pile, even a non-magical class like Hall’s could feel it. The items almost glowed.

  “Wow,” he said.

  Crouching down, Hall started removing the items. Slowly, with great care, he lifted them out, setting each on the ground.

  Three rings, two necklaces. A pair of leather bracers and another pair that looked to be made of a thin wood carved with leaves and a bear’s head. Three wands, three daggers and the hand axe. Still crouched, Hall studied all the items, lifting up one of the idols and turning it around in his hands. Carved from what looked to be jade, it was in the shape of a tiger’s paw with a hole through the top where a cord would be attached. He wondered how it compared to the one he wore on a cord hanging from his belt. The Quality Carved Bone Idol of Yeti’s Howl worked well with his short sword, giving the cold effect of the blade extra damage.

  He wondered what this jade tiger’s paw would do.

  Hall wished Sabine was there. She would have been a high enough level now to have the Scry ability and would have been able to identify all the items. Most of them anyways.

  He immediately regretted that thought. Sabine had betrayed them, had betrayed her relationship with Caryn. There was no forgiveness. He did miss her abilities, and a small part of him did miss her, but he didn’t want her back. She had made her decision, and they would all live with it.

  But they did have the issue of how to identify the loot.

  Maybe some of it wouldn’t need the Scry spell. They’d find out soon enough.

  He turned his attention back to the chest and the leather armor.

  Reaching down, he felt the leather. It was smooth, light, thin but tough. He didn’t recognize the hide that had been used. It was dyed a dark green color in spots, the rest a light brown. Patterns had been etched into the chest, trees and what looked to be dragons. Studs ran down the front, holding the chest and sides together. Holding it up, Hall was amazed at how light it felt. This leather chest piece made his current seem like it was made out of iron.

  Even if this piece had no magical properties, and he could tell it did, it would have been an upgrade over his current armor.

  He set it aside, pulling out two pairs of gloves. Both were short, just covering the hands and wrists where they would meet bracers. One pair, the dark green, had small metal plates between the knuckles and the back of the hand. The other pair, dyed a light red color, were fingerless but also had the metal plate on the back of the hand. He noticed that the inside of those gloves was rougher than he was used to seeing. Maybe it would help the grip on a hilt? Keep them from getting disarmed?

  Hall set the red gloves to the side, putting the green on top of the chest armor. It appeared, and judging from what was left in the stone chest, that there were two matching sets of leather armor. There was a set of pauldrons, a black color, the design seeming to match the trim and etchings on the red-dyed gloves. Next came a pair of leggings. Made of the same hide as the green chest piece, the leggings had green panels on the sides, attached to tan for the rest of the leg. The sides seemed thicker, extra padded. He pulled out a red leather kilt next, the ends studded, more small metal studs worked up the lengths of the kilt. Hall glanced at Caryn, seeing her eyes widening at the growing pile of red-colored leather.

  Next came two pairs of boots. A dark green pair, larger, and a smaller black pair. It was obvious which pile each went to.

  Underneath those was a pile of clothing. Hall thought it might be cloaks, but as he pulled the first piece out, he realized it was a set of robes.

  But not robes.

  There was a cotton shirt with a matching leather vest, the last pieces being cotton leggings and a skirt. The vest was an emerald green with straps that connected it to a belt. Pouches, loops and ties lined the belt. The undershirt had long sleeves, dyed a tan color that matched the leggings. The skirt was cut on an angle, slit up the side, a similar emerald green color with gold stitching and runes along the edges.

  Hall set the clothes down, taking one last look into the chest. It was empty of more items, but something was carved into the bottom of the chest. Hall recognized it as the rune of Bastian the Sage. The items had belonged to the Sage.

  Hall wondered how the natives to Sky Realms Online would handle taking and using the items.

  “Is that all?” Caryn asked sarcastically.

  Everyone chuckled, even Jackoby.

  Hall stood, stretching to work the kinks out of his back. He looked at the pile of green and tan leather armor, then the red and black. The pieces in the green and tan matched what he was missing for magical armor. He had replaced some of his starting armor but not all. His chest, leggings, boots and gloves were what he had appeared in Grayhold wearing. They had all been repaired many times. So much that the stitching was visible. It looked a mess, but he hadn’t found anything to upgrade to yet.

  Until now.

  He didn’t like it. The exact armor he needed to replace was sitting right there in front of him. It was like the chest had just been waiting for him. Even if the Duntin hadn’t raided Skara Brae, eventually Hall would have investigated this little collection of buildings. He would have found this chest.

  Eyes roaming the large collection of other items, he had a feeling that one of the daggers would have stats that would augment his skills and abilities, replacing the starting dagger he still had. The hand axe, which Roxhard had already picked up and was examining, would easily replace the old one the Dwarf still had. Bracers were one of the only pieces of armor that Jackoby did not have, and the wooden ones, Hall was sure they would end up being ironwood, would have stats that were made for a Warden. Even the rings and idols, he was sure would perfectly fit one of his companions.

  Someone had left this chest stocked with items that Hall and the Breakridge Irregulars could use.

  But who and why?

  Bastian the Sage?

  Pre-Glitch, the Sage had existed and been everywhere. Not aligned with any kingdom, he appeared when a quest needed someone to guide it. Most of the raid quests had been given by Bastian. The NPC of Sage had even been in multiple areas at the same
time, depending on the zone and the quest. But post-Glitch, Hall hadn’t seen or heard of the Sage being spotted.

  According to Leigh, the Sage hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years. He was a legendary figure of myth. A hated legendary figure of myth.

  It made some sense that when Electronic Storm had restarted the game with the trapped players, they had started to make it more immersive and real. For the new lore, it made sense for Bastian the Sage not to exist at the present time.

  But then who had put the items in the chest?

  Electronic Storm?

  Why would they do that though?

  Hall was positive the development team was reviewing all the players’ actions. Spying on them. It was their game, their world.

  But it made no sense for the devs to place needed items in the chest, in such a relatively easy location to get to. In a place that Hall was sure to find them.

  It gave the players, and Hall’s native companions, a power boost.

  Devs normally made the players of a game work for those loot gains. Epic items would be found at the end of raids, after the players worked hard to get to them.

  The Duntins weren’t hard, and they were not originally here.

  This would have been a safe trip through the tunnels to find the chest. Easy to get the loot and the increases that were sure to come with them.

  That went against everything a good game developer did.

  They wanted the players to struggle, and possibly die, in order to claim the new loot.

  Was that it? Dying?

  Permadeath was part of the game world now.

  Was this Electronic Storm’s way of trying to help keep players alive for when, if, they ever figured out how to get them out of the game world?

  That made some sense.

  But he wasn’t fully buying it. There was some logic, but there were also some holes in the thinking.

  Electronic Storm had never told them that there was now permadeath. As players, they had been used to being able to respawn after dying. That wasn’t possible now. Players died. No respawns.

  If Electronic Storm was worried about the players surviving, they would have allowed the players to respawn like the old game. But for whatever reason, that wasn’t happening anymore. Which went against the idea that the devs had put the gear here to help strengthen Hall and the other players.

  The other hole in the logic was the timing. Why now? Why not at the beginning? Why not have Hall show up in Grayhold at max level with artifact-level equipment?

  He shook his head, pushing all those thoughts away. They were still there, at the back of his mind, nagging at him. They’d be there for a long time, with all the other items on his list.

  “Can anyone identify anything?” he asked the group, focusing on Sharra and Bealee.

  Shamans and Druids didn’t have the Scry ability like Witches, but sometimes the other spellcasting classes could sense the magic of an item and identify it. There were times that items were open to anyone to view. Not the case here, and it appeared neither Sharra nor Bealee could sense anything.

  That was disappointing. It meant they’d have to find the time to go down to Silverpeak Keep or Auld and find a high enough level Witch. Time they didn’t have. Hall knew that every item they had found in the chest would be an upgrade for one of his companions or himself. Several upgrades. But there was no way of truly knowing until they could get them Scryed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Hall saw a flickering light purple glow. It was getting brighter. Tulla was at the edge of her cage, small hands holding onto the bars. She had pushed her small head out as far as it would go, staring down at the pile of items. Her small mouth was moving, but Hall couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  Sharra did. The Shaman nodded, crouching down and lowering the cage so it was as close as she could get it to one of the totems. Tulla always glowed, but most times it was very faint, just an aura around her, but when casting a spell, she flared. She was casting some kind of spell, or doing something magically related, but she wasn’t flaring. The glow was bright, but not that bad. Steady, not pulsating.

  It lasted a couple of minutes and then faded, not even the aura left around the fairy. Tulla slumped to the floor of her cage. She lifted her head just long enough to talk to Hall.

  “There you go.”

  Hall picked up the totem she had been staring at.

  It was about two inches long, looking like a tube made of a dark material. There was a shine, catching the light from the globe inside the room. Hall thought it might be onyx or obsidian. But it didn’t feel like stone. It felt like bone. Only a half inch in diameter, the stone tube was hollow. There were small holes cut into it, three in total, making it look like a small flute. One too small for even a Bodin to play easily. Small runes were carved around the diameter, more lines and flourishes down the sides.

  Exceptional Rinoth Horn Flute of the Earth

  On equipping, has a 50% chance of increasing the damage (+1D4), duration (+25 seconds per level) or defense of a spell using the earth element.

  He held the flute by the end so everyone could examine it. The idol could be used by either a Druid or a Shaman. He hadn’t seen Sharra use Earth magic yet, so assumed she was a Fire or Water elemental Shaman. Any of the Druids could use it. It would strengthen their Wall of Earth shield and maybe their Splinter Storm spell? He wasn’t sure if that was considered Nature or Earth.

  Either way, it was a valuable item.

  “You can Scry?” he asked Tulla.

  The small fairy was lying down on the bottom of her cage. She lifted her head just enough to nod.

  “It takes a lot out of me,” Tulla said, yawning. “I can’t do anything else for at least an hour. The stronger the item, the more it takes out of me.”

  She pulled herself up enough to motion vaguely in the direction of the loot. “Doing all that will take me a couple of days.”

  “Thank you,” Hall said.

  Tulla just waved her hand, lying back down. Sharra pulled a piece of cloth out of her inventory pouch. She covered the cage, tying it to the top, letting the little fairy sleep.

  “Let’s get this stuff packed up,” he told the others. “We need to check on Brandif and the others. Once the whole place is secure, we can have the Ridgerunner come in and grab everything of value from the Duntins and their ships.”

  “Including the armor and weapons?” Roxhard asked, picking up the two Berserkers’ axes.

  Holding them in one hand, he opened the top of the small pouch on his waist. The axes were too big to fit into the pouch, but there was magic to them. Hall turned away. No matter how many times he saw it, he still wasn’t used to the weird distortion effect as the larger items shrank and twisted to get into the much smaller pouch.

  “Everything,” he replied. “Tunwell can melt all the weapons down and reuse them. Any leather can be cut up and reused. Salvage anything we can.”

  They walked out of the house and into the setting sun. Facing west, they had a clear view of the far horizon. Dark shadows of islands, the red gold sun filling their vision. With no land, just open sky, the red of the sunset replaced the blue sky. It was beautiful. Darker red in the center, going to orange and yellow at the high and low.

  Hall had thought the sunset view from Skara Brae was impressive, but nothing like what he saw now with no land to block it out.

  Beside him, the others started dropping piles of Duntin armor and weapons, the clanging of metal on stone loud in the silent evening. There was a scraping sound as an axe slid down the slope before coming to a stop. Each only had an armload, Hall bending down to deposit his. There was more inside, but they would collect it later.

  With a screech, Pike and Talon flew out of the small building. They flew just above the treetops, spiraling into the air. Two black specks with the setting sun behind them.

  Hall turned away from the sunset, starting up the mountain to the other house with the tunnel. Halfway there, he stopped, hearing foot
steps coming from inside. Waving at the others, they all tensed, weapons drawn, spells ready to cast.

  He relaxed instantly, seeing a tall shape in the shadows of the door. Too tall to be a Duntin.

  Brandif stepped into view. He looked up into the sky, seeing Talon as the dragonhawk screeched a welcome.

  “What did you find?” Hall asked.

  The older Skirmisher looked the same as when he had entered. No sign of wounds.

  “You need to see this,” Brandif answered.

  The tunnel was long, thin and rough. Unlike the ones Hall had walked through, this one had not been smoothed, bits of stone hanging from the ceiling that he worked to avoid. Only ten feet high, barely over five feet wide, it ran straight. He couldn’t detect a slope, up or down, and according to his map, there was no angle as it ran.

  Brandif had been the only one to come back out, the other two at the far end.

  That told Hall that it was safe.

  The older Skirmisher had said they’d encountered nothing in the tunnel. There had been evidence of the Duntins walking down it a ways before they turned around. But that was it. Nothing but a long straight tunnel.

  They moved quickly, single file, not talking.

  It was shorter than Hall had assumed.

  He could see light ahead. They’d been using Greenfire globes, since Brandif was human and had no night or dark vision. Through the green glow, Hall could see sunlight outlining the end of the tunnel.

  As they got closer, the Greenfire globes were returned to the inventory pouches. Beyond the opening, Hall could see blue sky tinged with red from the setting sun. Clouds and other islands, the tops of mountains. He could also see Bradberry and Garrick.

  They stood just inside the opening, Garrick leaning against the wall. Bradberry was sitting cross-legged on the ground, a roll of parchment across his lap, a quill in hand. He was making lines across the page.