Hero's Journey: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 2)

by Rachel Ford

  “Look yonder and behold: a feather from a mighty raptor of the seas.” Migli pointed about two paces to his left, behind a small rise in the stone.

  And sure enough, Jack saw an enormous silver feather, glimmering all the brighter in the sunlight for the orangish red stone background on which it lay. He headed over and stooped to lift the feather.

  A thought flitted through his head.

  Added to inventory: raptor feather

  Another thought followed it.

  Collect 20 feathers to unlock raptor armor at workbenches and armorer’s shops.

  “Woah. Raptor armor? Bad buns.” He cringed. Ass to buns was another one of the vocabulary adjustments he put with piddle, especially in that context.

  “We should try to find more feathers,” Migli said. “They will lead us to the sea raptor’s eyrie.”

  He nodded. It was the sort of thing that would never work in real life. Birds didn’t just go around shedding trails of feathers that you could follow. But however real it looked and sounded and felt, this was still a videogame, and so still governed by the whacky world of videogame mechanics.

  He glanced around. At first, he didn’t notice anything. But then a shimmering sliver of silver at the base of the cliff caught his eye. “Hope you’re ready for a climb, Migli. Looks like we’re going down the rocks.”

  They did, or at least they started to. It was painstaking work of picking out a safe path down on almost sheer rockface. But then Jack spotted a ledge a good ten meters below him. He figured at level fifty-six, he’d almost certainly be able to survive a fall of thirty-some feet. So he decided to test his theory. He dropped and landed with a thud. His health meter plummeted, and he lost thirty-two points. But he was very much alive – and all without the busy work of finding whatever path the developers had built into the rocks.

  He scouted the area for another drop and took it. He paused to eat a bit of pork steak, just to refill his health meter. Then he dropped twice more, and landed at the base of the cliff, a few feet from the feather.

  He stretched his limbs and grinned up at Migli, who was still inching his way down. Then he headed to the second feather and picked it up.

  Added to inventory: raptor feather

  He glanced around. He had two raptor feathers now, which meant there were probably roughly eighteen more on the trail, give or take one. Since he needed twenty for the raptor armor, it was possible one or two of the feathers might be just off the main path. The game developers wouldn’t have wanted to make it too easy, after all.

  So he scouted around, looking for the next feather. He found it fifteen meters westward, and then another, and another, all heading to the westernmost shores.

  Migli rematerialized behind him as he stooped to pick up the fifth feather. He’d still been on the cliffs a moment before, and now he stood six inches away.

  They kept on following the feathers. There were seventeen in total on the ground. Migli noticed the first hidden one. “Look, Sir Knight: it seems one of the creature’s feathers has landed on the topmost fronds of that tree.”

  Jack followed the direction he pointed, and sure enough, saw a shimmering silver outline at the top of a palm tree. So he shimmied up the trunk and through the fronds and claimed his prize.

  Then he kept his eyes on the tree line as well as the path. All in all, he found twenty-two feathers. When he reached twenty, a thought flitted through his mind.

  You have unlocked raptor armor. Visit a workbench or armorer’s shop to see your options.

  Jack smiled to himself, and Migli started singing – again, with the strange bit about the king and his pudding. They followed the trail for another two feathers before they spotted it: a great eyrie set atop a solitary stone mound. It was a tremendous heap of sticks and branches, all bleached whitish gray by the sun. A huge silver bird rested in the nest, staring down at them with golden eyes.

  Jack paused mid-step. A low, foreboding rumble rolled across the horizon – battle music. And no wonder: the bird looked large enough to shred him and Migli on a whim. “Hey, uh, Migli? How exactly are we supposed to convince this thing to work with us?”

  “Sir Jack,” the dwarf answered, and his voice was low. “I believe we may have a problem.”

  “No sugar cookies. That thing’s going to feed us to whatever babies it’s harboring in there. There’s no way we can –”

  He cut off suddenly as something collided with him; something big, and warm, and furry. Something snarling.

  He went down, sputtering as sand filled his mouth and nose. He felt another collision, this one smaller and more focused. He didn’t feel pain – that, mercifully, wasn’t programmed into the normal difficulty levels of the game. But he was aware of great, sharp claws tearing through his flesh.

  His health bar dropped ten points, twenty, thirty – fifty; and all before he’d even managed to wriggle around. Migli, meanwhile, bellowed, “Take heart, Sir Knight: nothing can stand against the combined might of you and I.”

  It was an encouraging line, but notably absent? Any follow up action. Migli drew his axe, but he stayed to the side and limited his interactions with Jack’s assailant to shouted barbs.

  The assailant itself was a big cat, some kind of panther by the look of it, with razor sharp claws and enormous fangs. Jack managed to wriggle away from the monster and draw his sword. The cat snarled, and Jack felt himself sweating. He hadn’t replenished his health after the last fall. He didn’t want to pause mid-fight to swig a healing potion or down a steak, but on the other hand, he was at about a third of his health now.

  “Have at him, Sir Knight: he’ll not stand against the two of us,” Migli called.

  Jack threw a scowl his companion’s way. For all his cheerleading, the dwarf hadn’t moved an inch. But the momentary diversion proved ill considered. The big cat pounced the instant his eyes moved. That was all it took.

  Enormous fangs sunk into Jack’s skull. His health meter plummeted, and he died.

  Chapter Three

  Jack respawned at the foot of the cliff, with only one feather in his inventory. He scowled at Migli, who appeared beside him this time. He ate another coconut, to restore his health meter to full. Then he got to work, retracing his steps along the path.

  He considered skipping the feathers in the trees. He had no particular love of busywork as it was, but he particularly disliked redoing it. Still, he didn’t know when he’d run into one of these birds again, and the promise of raptor armor – whatever that was – urged him on. So he climbed three trees – just enough to bring him to his total of twenty.

  This time, he drew his sword before he reached the foot of the eyrie, and he turned toward the big cat’s approach. Sure enough, it leaped out on cue.

  But Jack was ready, and he got the first strike in. The panther yowled and sprang backward. Migli said, “Take heart, Sir Knight: nothing can stand against the combined might of you and I.”

  The cat and he circled each other. A big, ugly crimson gash stained the creature’s ebony fur. But its eyes glinted with a determined malice. “Come on, you bugger,” he said. “Not so tough when you can’t sneak up on people, are you?”

  The cat twitched its tail and kept on moving, one steady, self-assured paw after the other. Then it pounced again. It didn’t even tense up before it leaped. It just moved, like a bullet leaving a barrel.

  Jack barely had time to raise his arms, and that only saved his face. One giant paw swiped his blade, dislodging it from his hand. Another swiped his arms, draining health points and bringing a most unwelcome message:

  Left arm, crippled.

  Right arm, crippled.

  He leaped backward, just as the panther’s jaws clamped together, and narrowly missed another finishing head chomp.

  Then, Jack remembered that he had a healing spell. He hadn’t used it yet, but he’d picked it up in the castle. He summoned the spell scroll from his inventory. It hovered before his eyes for a moment, and then disappeared. Understandi
ng flooded his senses. He knew how to mend bone and heal torn tissue.

  He reveled in the feeling a moment too long, and the big cat took full advantage of his distraction to deliver a series of shredding, tearing swipes. Jack staggered backwards, calling up the spell. His health meter dipped below half and then below a third of its normal capacity; and then the healing spell kicked in, and his meter crawled back up to full. His arms responded to his commands again, as if they’d never taken a hit.

  Jack ran for his blade, and the cat ran after him. He dove downward just as the cat pounced. His fingers found purchase on the cold steel hilt.

  “Have at him, Sir Knight: he’ll not stand against the two of us,” Migli called.

  This time, he didn’t waste a second thought on the dwarf. He spun around on his back, the tip of his blade pointed upward. The panther finished his arc, colliding with the tip of the sword, and skewering itself against it with such a force that the pummel smashed into Jack’s ribs. His health meter lost twenty points.

  But the cat was dead.

  Migli breathed out, as if from exertion. “With hearts so stout and blade arms so strong, I knew the victory would be ours.”

  “Piddle off, Migli.”

  He picked himself up, brushing the dust of battle from his leather armor. Then he knelt to examine the cat. He could harvest a panther hide and two slabs of meat from it, as well as a single fang. It was one of those things about videogames that balanced all the freebies. Sure, you might not sweat or need to sleep in game, but you also would end up with two pounds of meat and a single tooth from a giant cat with a mouth full of fangs. Trade-offs. That’s what it was all about.

  Still, he dropped the fang into his inventory sack along with the meat and hide. That, of course, was one of those perks of videogame mechanics: you could store raw meat and supplies and anything else together, and none of it would decay, or start to stink, or get covered in the kinds of bacteria that would kill you. Some trade-offs were worth it.

  He turned his back on the deceased cat and headed back toward the eyrie. Migli followed, singing about King Raversen.

  And his dark heart bound to evil’s cold steel

  Choices made in days gone by, his fate did seal

  First slave of a dagger, he fell at last

  His great deeds lost and his majesty passed.

  The great bird, meanwhile, stared down at them, and just kept staring down at them. Jack put a cautious hand on the stone, and then another. He started to climb, his eyes fixed on the raptor. It didn’t move. It didn’t blink. It just – watched.

  Despite the heat of the late afternoon, he shivered. Migli ambled up behind him, though, which he took to be a sign that he was making the right call: so far, if he was racing to his death, the dwarf stood back and let it happen.

  He reached the top of the eyrie a few minutes later. The mound of sticks looked even more massive here. It reached almost to his waist – and reached Migli’s chest.

  The great bird stood now. It towered above the dwarf and stood half a head taller than Jack himself. It spoke with a voice clear and sharp. “Son of man and dwarf, why come you to my home unbidden?”

  Dialogue options appeared in Jack’s thoughts.

  We require your assistance, noble bird, in a quest to save all living things.

  And

  My friend here has come to assert the ancient right of his people to your labor, beast.

  Jack chose the first option.

  The bird considered, and spoke again, “This is the business of the gray beard in the castle?”

  “So it is, lord of the sky,” Migli said. “Now it is our business, for he has been slain, and his burden passes to us.”

  “He was a keeper of the fates of men and dwarves. My fate is not bound to yours, and I have my own responsibilities to attend.” The bird gestured with a massive wing at the half dozen eggs at its talon-covered feet. They were half a foot tall, and shimmered white in the sunlight.

  Jack found himself faced with two more options.

  All the creatures of the world are bound in the fate of the dagger. Yours and your offspring’s too, my friend.

  And,

  Enough talk, coward. We must reach the far north. You will take us.

  Again, he chose the first option.

  And again, the bird considered. “Iaxiabor’s deeds live long in the memory of all races, my own included. But if I am to leave my offspring, I must first know that they will be safe.”

  Jack nodded. “Okay, cool.”

  “I will aid you.”

  “Awesome.”

  “But first, you must retrieve for me items three: the Ward of the Keeper, that he lost somewhere in the northern plains, to keep evil from my offspring; the orcish Staff of Warmth, to heat my eggs in my absence; and a pearl of calming, from the eastern shores, to comfort my young in their solitude.”

  Jack groaned. “Really?”

  “These are my terms, young warrior. Will you accept?”

  Three options flashed through his mind.

  I will, Lord of the Skies.

  Can’t you do it yourself, you lazy buzzard?

  And,

  Counter offer: I’ll slip these eggs into my inventory, and if you cooperate, you get them back. If you don’t, I make a nice omelet.

  For the third time, he picked the first option, although he considered the second for a good five seconds. But he’d played enough videogames to know how it would go. The giant bird would have some completely uncompelling reason to explain how it could spend all day hunting but not take a few minutes to fly off and find the stupid items it needed. It was one of those less awesome trade-offs of videogames. So he picked the polite option, since he figured the bird’s goodwill would be worth preserving.

  “Come to me when you have gathered the items three, and we will depart.”

  They decided to retrieve the staff first, in part because Migli advised, “My guess is, that staff was back at the castle. We must have missed it.” Part of the calculation, though, was that the pearl would be exactly opposite them. They’d been heading west all this time, so going back to the mountain would bring them nearer the pearl. As for the ward, well, that was north – so probably about the same distance from either west or east.

  So they hiked their way back up the mountain. The sun set, and they ran into more monomal on the trek. Jack concluded that the monkey-creatures were nocturnal, since he’d only seen them at night. But he’d already figured out that a well-aimed coconut could take them out – or a blow from his sword, or even a good, hard punch. All he had to do was avoid the projectiles they’d hurl his way.

  So he made short work of the few groups they encountered. They kept hiking and reached the castle by late dawn. It rose tall and dark against the horizon. But Jack had seen it once already. He’d walked the stone ramparts before and traversed those ancient halls. It had lost its appeal. Right now, all he wanted to do was find the staff and be done.

  Here, Migli provided a little help. “I would try the barracks, Sir Knight. The keeper employed orc mercenaries sometimes.”

  Jack set his steps for the barracks. He found a scene of slaughter much like he’d first found on the approach to the castle. Iaxiabor’s minions, the demon Kalbidor and his horde of murderous rogues, had fell upon the men in the barracks as they slept. They’d killed them in their beds.

  He stepped over the felled troops, picking through their inventories. He found a few coins, bringing his total to a whopping eighty-seven gold. He found some meat and a second salt pouch. That was better than gold, since it was the only way to keep food from tasting like literal cardboard – one of the more questionable choices the Marshfield Studio developers had made. He found heavy, low level swords and daggers, that he left. But he didn’t find any staff of warming, or any magical weapons at all.

  He turned to the chests and footlockers. Here, he scored a few valuable rings and amulets, and a pouch of an unknown herb. Migli just cackled when he picked it up
. “Oh, that’s a good strain, Sir Knight.”

  “Strain of what?”

  “Smoke it, and you’ll see,” the dwarf grinned.

  Jack didn’t smoke it, though. He wanted to go home, and the run around was starting to aggravate him. He just wanted to be done with the level and move on. So he kept looking.

  In the second to last chest, he found a crooked staff. It was warm to the touch, and a thought entered his mind.

  Added to inventory: Staff of Warmth

  “Bingo: one down, two to go.”

  Jack moved to the last chest and lifted the lid. He heard a crackle of something like electricity about half a second before a surge of energy shot through him. His health meter dropped like a rock through open water. He registered Migli’s voice, offering some belated warning.

  And then, Jack died.

  Chapter Four

  Jack spawned back at the eyrie, just before he’d made his choices. He hadn’t saved any time since, and autosave apparently only kicked in after he defeated the panther. So he had to loot the dead cat again, scale the eyrie, and repeat his dialogue options. He hesitated ten seconds longer at the choice Can’t you do it yourself, you lazy buzzard?

  But he gritted his teeth and chose the polite dialogue. He agreed to run all over creation looking for a bunch of ridiculous gizmos.

  Then, he repeated his previous steps. He scaled the mountain, searched the castle, and retrieved the staff. This time, he did not touch the final chest; and so he didn’t trip the boobytrap. He left the castle in one piece, and Migli congratulated him. “Nicely done, Sir Jack. Now we need only find the Ward of the Keeper and a pearl of calming.”

  “Right. Let’s head east, Migli.”

  The journey took until late afternoon the next day. The sun hung low in the western sky, casting the eastern seaboard in shadow. Jack wasn’t particularly worried, though. He hadn’t caught sight of any more panther prints, and the sparse tree density meant a low likelihood of running into monomal.