Eat, Slay, Love: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 10)

by Eric Ugland

  The creature smiled, at least what I assumed was a smile.

  “Open the gates,” I called out.

  There were some mutterings at first, but a quick glare took care of them, and the gates opened.

  I hopped off the gatehouse and walked over to greet the gigantic monsters. Being up close reminded me of how imposing they were. More than a little terrifying. I mean, if I could still feel terror.

  But I could see the reaction of the guard as the rolegurdaüdi strolled into Coggeshall. There was certainly a niggling question in my head — was this some dark and crazy plan so smart I’d missed it, where the rolegurdaüdi played nice with us for months just so they could come in without problem, and then have a massive feast without even the slightest fight?

  But after they walked into the place, they didn’t grab anybody, nor did they slaver and slobber. They were, at least as far as ghastly monstrosities go, civil. I noticed the larger male was carrying something wrapped up in an animal skin.

  “Welcome,” I said.

  They tilted their heads to the side and blinked a few times at me.

  I frowned, remembering we’d had a conversation in the past, but—

  “Shit,” I said. “Bear needs to be here for this.”

  Nothing from the rolegurdaüdi.

  I scratched my chin a few times. I was in a tough spot. A bit of rudimentary communication was possible, though, so I got them to move farther inside so we could close the gates.

  Frankly, I’m not sure what would have happened had Timurlan not been on his daily outdoor time stroll around the grounds. It was really only a spot of luck. Timurlan saw me, then the rolegurdaüdi. He did a double take at the rolegurdaüdi. Then he smiled.

  The rolegurdaüdi smiled at the sight of the lifeweaver.

  “Hey,” I called out, “any chance you know speak with animals or something along those lines?”

  “A very high chance,” Timurlan replied, walking closer, but keeping his eyes on the rolegurdaüdi. Then, without visibly doing anything, he spoke with the rolegurdaüdi in a guttural barking sort of noise.

  The rolegurdaüdi brightened immediately, and replied in kind to Timurlan.

  I frowned a little, because I’d expected Timurlan to let me in on what was being said. But, well, I didn’t want to complain in front of everyone.

  It was impossible to follow the conversation, and, once again, it mystified me how this did not make up a language—

  You have been offered a quest:

  Now, why is rolegurdaüdi not a language?

  Discover why rolegurdaüdi communication is not considered a language

  Reward for success: Satisfcation of intellectual curiosity and, perhaps, greater understanding of the rolegurdaüdi

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): None, save a mild disappointment in your intellectual growth…

  Yes/No

  Jeez. I had to stop with the big questions.

  A genuine conversation was happening between the three imposing monsters and the comparatively tiny lifeweaver. Hell, Timurlan started laughing at what had to be a joke.

  “He says they’re your family,” Timurlan finally said to me.

  “They are,” I replied.

  “They wanted to be where you are for winter,” he said. “Apparently that’s how they spend the winters — they hole up in their cave with their entire family, so, they need to be in your cave.”

  “They’re welcome to be in my cave.”

  “Also, it seems like something happened to their cave? It either flooded or they dug into a cavern below that was filled with water, and, well, they have no other place to live right now.”

  “They’re more than welcome here. I mean, we’ve been expecting them. There should be a spot for them somewhere inside.”

  “I think,” Timurlan began slowly, “I might have an idea.”

  The big male said something.

  It was disconcerting for me to not understand others. I’d become so used to magically knowing every language that I’d almost forgotten how to figure things out using context clues.

  “He wants to know if this is your cave,” Timurlan said. “They don’t exactly have a way to say home.”

  I pointed to my balcony. “That’s my spot inside the cave right there.”

  The rolegurdaüdi all looked up at the spot, and then muttered to each other, then barked at Timurlan. Timurlan barked back.

  “They are not keen on heights, though, naturally, it wasn’t quite as, well—”

  “Verbose?”

  “Sure. I told them there are plenty of other places to go.”

  “Do you mind—”

  “If you are about to ask me to take them into MountainHome, I am more than willing,” Timurlan said. “However, I feel you should come along because it will be a strange sight and people might react to such creatures being among them if you are not there to reassure them.”

  I glanced over my shoulder towards the west and the Night Goblins. We’d have to strike while it was night if we were hoping to catch them in the act of whatever they were doing.

  “I don’t have a lot of extra time,” I said, “but let’s go.”

  Timurlan passed that on to the rolegurdaüdi, and we were on our way.

  Bringing the rolegurdaüdi inside was, well, interesting. First there was the fact that they were really fucking big, which presented its own set of challenges. Plenty of times, we needed squish and squeeze to get through spots, and once, they had to crawl through a hallway clearly meant for dwarves. That’s where we learned rolegurdaüdi were a bit like cats, in that they could basically squeeze through anything they could get their heads through. Which was terrifying, because they could almost make it through normal sized doors with a little work. I made a mental note to speak to Harmut about ensuring all our public thoroughfares were built with all our public in mind.

  And speaking of the public, there were more than a few shouts of surprise, a few screams of terror, and one older human who fainted dead away at the sight of our new neighbors. The only group that seemed excited by the gigantic monsters were, oddly, the tiny battenti. The little dog-bear-fox folk were positively giddy seeing the big rolegurdaüdi, and also seemed able to communicate with them. That was our biggest delay, the rolegurdaüdi and battenti barking at each other like they were all at a dog park.

  It was a bit of an issue to find a spot inside where they felt comfortable, mainly because they weren’t super keen on being indoors and surrounded by so many people. But something strange happened when we got down to the farming levels. They calmed down and walked onto the grass like they had been waiting for something like this their entire lives. Our animals and livestock were skittish at first, but Timurlan was quick to soothe everyone.

  “I’ll make sure they’re settled here,” Timurlan said.

  “They seem to like it,” I said.

  Timurlan nodded, then leaned in to whisper. “It’s the oddest thing: I’d swear they’re old friends of mine, though I’ve never seen these things before. Nor even heard of them.”

  “I’ve stopped thinking things are odd here,” I replied. “Easier that way.”

  “Coggeshall does seem to possess more than its fair share of surprises.”

  “You sure it’s just Coggeshall?”

  24

  Back outside in the snow, I pulled a shield out of my knapsack, and then a spear. I did a little warming up while I waited for Nathalie to get back with Amber. But unfortunately when Nathalie returned, she had Amber with her, but also a few others.

  Nikolai smiled at me, his wry oh-gods-why-must-you-curse-me-with-this-buffoon smile. It was always nice to see that expression.

  “Your grace,” Nikolai said.

  “Am I about to hear the ‘you shouldn’t be doing this’ speech yet again?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I have started to come around to the idea of you being our first line of attack. For a myriad of reasons: you are incredibly resilient, for one, an
d as you demonstrated in Osterstadt, oftentimes you are the correct hammer for the job.”

  “Hammer?”

  “Sword? Weapon? Tool?”

  “Let’s just keep it with hammer.”

  “Certainly, your grace. In this case, I cannot picture a better person to lead this charge.”

  “Great. What’s the issue then?”

  “No issue, your grace. I am merely waiting here for the next arrivals, and I saw a moment to chat with Lady Glaton about her duties here.”

  “Ah.”

  “It is me who has the issue with you going alone,” Nathalie replied. “I do not think it wise.”

  “I’m not going alone. Amber is—”

  “I’m coming, too,” Ragnar called, running from the main entrance to MountainHome while trying to buckle armor on at the same time. It was going well right until it wasn’t, and he piffed into the snow, sending up a heady spray into the sky.

  “He is, apparently, coming,” Nathalie said. “As are Skeld and Tarryn. You should be prepared for whatever they might throw at you.”

  “You’re right,” I said, nodding my head. “The last time we tussled with them was a bit of a surprise. Got toasty there.”

  “Slimy,” Amber said.

  “Right,” I replied. “I remember.”

  Skeld strolled along and pulled his buddy out of the snow with a single arm. It was interesting to see the difference in the two since Skeld’s rebirth. His carcajou form was impressive. Tarryn, meanwhile, had wrapped himself up in a thick white robe, his pale face almost blending in. When he fell in the snow, he basically disappeared.

  “It’s a great crew we’ve got here,” I said, watching Skeld sigh while going back to pick up Tarryn.

  “You do have a way of picking your hirð,” Nikolai said.

  “If you’d just take those damn potions and whatnot, you’d be back to your old self, you dingleberry.”

  “No, I would not.”

  “What potions would those be?” Nathalie asked.

  “Stop bringing up the potions.”

  “I’m just saying,” I started, but a sharp glare from Nikolai stopped me. “There are no potions, Nathalie. None.”

  She frowned.

  I thought we were ready to go, but then an old man in a dark robe came running through the main doors and out into the snowy field. Unlike most everyone else that evening, he didn’t trip. He just moved smoothly through the snow.

  “Your grace,” Arno the mancer called out, “I was wondering if you might have use for me. I’m getting a bit, well, not quite bored, but—”

  “Your timing is impeccable, Arno,” I replied.

  “Oh?”

  “We’re about to go for a little walk in the snow.”

  “More snow than this?”

  “Likely.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  I waited until he’d gotten right next to us before saying, “It’s more a hunt than a stroll.”

  “Oh? Well, I can hunt,” he replied. “Grew up in the Winterman Woods.”

  “No idea where that is, but if you don’t mind being out in the snow, I know you can handle yourself if we get in the shit. Friends, this is Arno. Arno, these are my friends.”

  “Hullo,” Arno said, a craggy smile on his face.

  “You want to put on socks?” I asked, looking down at his feet going right into his boots. “Or pants?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “Never mind. Let’s go,” I said.

  Amber, the kitsune-girl ranger, led the way through the gates.

  25

  I felt strangely alive, being outside the gates on a hunt once again. It had been some time since death was on the menu. And by some time, I mean just a few days, since we’d been hunting vampires in Osterstadt. But that was urban hunting, and this was out in the wilds. Also, vampires had been unknown monsters and pretty scary. Goblins, however, seemed easy.

  Which was probably thinking that would bite me in the ass.

  The snow continued to fall, and the night got darker, making our stroll less than pleasant. The complete cloud cover meant having to be full time in dark vision, which is always creepy because there’s not a lot of color in dark vision. It’s mostly variants of grey and green. And once we were under the trees, we had to deal with snow hiding obstacles on the ground, which increased the trip factor immensely. Amber didn’t trip; she seemed to just glide over the snow. I didn’t trip because I had an ability that made it essentially impossible for me to trip, but the rest of the group got very well-acquainted with the ground, face-planting over and over again. It made things slow-going, and not particularly quiet.

  We paused for a break after the first hour, and there were definitely some mutterings.

  Amber scurried up a tree, all the way to the tippy-top, to get a look at things. Both to determine our exact position, but also to see if there was any evidence of the gobbos down below.

  When she dropped down next to me, she was smiling.

  “On the right path?” I asked.

  “Indeed, your grace,” she said.

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled back at her. “Excellent,” I said.

  She blushed and looked away from me, tucking a strand of her perfect hair behind one of her ears. I was, as always, reminded how incredibly beautiful she was. The nearly inhuman perfection of her face and the practically anatomically impossible aspects of her figure. Which meant I pulled out a weapon and went to stretching. It was not the time to ogle. Really, there was never a time for ogling. Which was something I needed to drill into Ragnar’s skull, since he was in the middle of a grand ogle.

  I caught Skeld’s eye and gestured to Ragnar.

  Skeld slapped his friend upside the head.

  In the old days, it would have just been a light slap, but now a light slap from Skeld knocked Ragnar off the branch he’d been sitting on and into the snow below.

  Ragnar popped up with a clump of snow perched on his noggin.

  “Really?” he snapped at Skeld.

  “Sorry,” Skeld said. “Getting used to myself.”

  Ragnar frowned, but nodded, as if this was something that everyone knew. I guess it made sense — you know, being reborn in a new body took some getting used to. Actually, I’d seen that from personal experience. But still. Weird that everyone took it as general knowledge.

  “The camp is nearby,” Amber whispered. She snapped off a small branch from an overhanging tree and started drawing a rough map in the snow. “I believe it is here.” She drew a circle. “We are here.” She stuck a twig in, about a foot away and down. “I think it would be best to split into four groups. I will go to the far side over here. Tarryn and Skeld go to the left side. Ragnar and Arno to the right. Your grace, you go to the close side—”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “Splitting the party isn’t worth it. We’re not here to encircle them, we’re here to see what they’re doing and then give them a good scare.”

  “You do not care some will get away?” Amber asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t. Not yet, at least. Besides, with just the six of us here, I don’t think there’s any way we’d be able to pull off a full wipe.”

  Amber frowned, making it clear she did not like this alteration to her plan, but then nodded.

  “There’s also the chance that we’ll see something we don’t want to interrupt,” I added. “Might be too many goblins for us to handle. So make sure we have an exit strategy, Amber. That’s on you.”

  She nodded again.

  “Rest of you,” I continued, “it’s investigation and then elimination. Very important to know what they’re doing, not just wipe them off the face of Vuldranni.”

  I got nods from the group.

  “Questions?” I asked.

  There were none, so I gestured for Amber to lead us to the camp.

  Five more minutes of crawling through the forest, and we came to a small clearing that was
newly occupied by a Night Goblin camp. In the relative middle of the clearing was a large, mostly round tent made of poorly tanned leather. Patches of fur still stuck to it at strange angles, and it was clear it had been stitched together by someone with little working knowledge of a needle. Or thread.

  There were six other tents in the camp, but they were smaller and had a better sense of construction about them. That made me think the middle one was new. Maybe it’d been purpose-built for this particular camping trip. Who knew?

  A large fire burned to the front of the main tent, something that was way too big for cooking. Or safety. The goblins didn’t seem to care though, and were currently burning the shit out of a haunch of deer.

  A long table had been set up on the far side of the camp from us, with tools and some basic construction material on it. A small workshop, perhaps? It looked like someone had been working there recently, but there was no evidence as to what they were working on. Whatever it had been was gone now.

  Goblins moved all around the camp, the little-ish kind with greenish-whitish skin common to night goblins in my valley. Maybe common to night goblins everywhere — I didn’t know. They wore shoddy armor, pieced together from a wide variety of sources it seemed. One strange goblin wore a frying pan over his butt. Their weapons were rusty and had zero evidence of maintenance.

  “What do you think?” I whispered.

  Ragnar just shook his head.

  Skeld frowned.

  Tarryn shrugged.

  Arno flicked something out of his nose.

  Tier-one operators here.

  “Guys,” I hissed. “What are we looking at?”

  “Night goblins,” Ragnar said.

  “Go help Amber. Skeld, make sure he does nothing untoward.”

  Skeld rolled his eyes, and Ragnar frowned, but they slipped away back east.

  “I regret I know very little of goblins,” Arno whispered. “It is rare the Empire needs more than basic soldiers to deal with them.”

  “Guesses though?” I asked.

  “It would seem they are, perhaps, practicing being soldiers. Training.”