Neverstone: A LitRPG Adventure (The Mad Elf Book 1)

by Ned Caratacus

  Normally, Era would have felt more pity for this beast. But for one thing, this was no bird. And for another—

  [Steve — Breakout]

  —a pair of simian leg bones breaking through the catfish’s belly indicated that this fish had hurt one of Era’s friends. Steve’s arms broke through the sides, and the head bit his way through the spine and dorsal fins. With that, the catfish was dead, and Steve had inadvertently made a fancy little suit out of its carcass.

  “Nice jacket,” said Era.

  Further down the creek, Era caught sight of the fifty-foot-tall skull of an ancient dragon sitting at the base of the canyon wall. Curtains of mold-soaked cloth hung from the dragon's teeth—stitched-together clothes of human victims.

  “That’s…not ominous at all,” said Era. “Aurelia Koschei’s summer home, perhaps?”

  “Goblin camp.”

  “Good eye, Steve. Ofelia must be in there, let’s—”

  [Era — Double Take]

  Mid sentence, three factors fell into place in Era’s brain:

  1. Steve couldn’t talk.

  2. If he did, he wouldn’t know what a goblin camp looked like.

  3. There was a goblin nearby.

  Thoroughly disappointed with his own reaction time, the elf hurried into a combat stance to face the goblin...

  Who was pixel-fading. Two of his four arms had been broken off at the base, and war pixels flickered at their stumps. The word “FRIENDSHIP” had been written into his back with glowing white stab wounds. He coughed up glitter paint with his dying breaths.

  “You okay there, big guy?” asked Era. He really isn’t, but I don’t wanna be rude.

  The goblin raised a quivering finger. “It was golatà,” he gurgled. Pointing at Era’s sword, he added, “Please, avenge.”

  With that, the goblin rested his face in the salty water of the creek and gurgled away into dust.

  Era wasn't too keen on the concept of avenging people who he had only met a few seconds ago, but he could get it done on the way to save Ofelia. Besides, “Golatà” was probably the nastiest of the goblins, and this poor enfriendship’d fellow might as well have been their oft-ignored voice of reason.

  Era and Steve trudged off toward the curtain, not at all expecting the marble door that lay behind.

  [lumipedia.co.ari/tomb_of_platonus]

  THE TOMB OF PLATONUS

  The Tomb of Platonus is a mausoleum constructed in 20 A.L. It was designed by Gaius Platonus, the court architect of the Tsar of Fulgania (now Celsior). The tomb was designed for the original Chosen Three, but named after Platonus because, according to Ariesian historical records, “he was a swell guy, too.”

  The original location of the Tomb of Platonus was in an as-of-yet unidentified part of Lottie's Canyon. According to Celsioran historical records, the tomb was destroyed in a fit of rage by a desert saltworm for its lack of saltiness.

  A long stone hallway, full of oblong holes in the walls with as many as three permanent residents crammed in one stone bed, greeted Era and Steve. An inlaid path of glowing crystals along the ceiling gave a blue glow to the skulls scattered about the ground.

  Era gagged. Gods. Even the air is mummified. Granted, it's literally somewhere to put inedible stuff to rot— an anti-fridge?—but no history class bothers to teach you how bad an ancient tomb smells.

  Era tied a green bandana around his face to save his poor nose. “Ofelia said she was in a dark, temple-like place with a coffin,” he said. “This must be it. I got another bandana. Want one?”

  Steve took the bandanna. He had no sense of smell, but it matched the fish.

  “Awright, let’s get moving. They’re probably torturing Ofelia as we speak.”

  If by “they” Era meant “goblins,” they were not torturing Ofelia. They'd have to be alive for that sort of thing.

  Though Era’s weapon was drawn as they made their way through the crystal-lit corridors, down floor after floor of stone stairways, he found that he didn't have any need for the schiavona in the first place. Only dust, bones, dried out burial offerings, and cobwebs would lie in wait for them, ready to pounce with an unrelenting ambush of disappointment.

  Ten floors down, the ground was wet with fresh purple goblin blood.

  Seven more floors, and they saw the three ancient heroes' burial chambers. Era shot a finger gun at the empty, desecrated coffin of St. Cyrus Rosencrantz, the elvish wizard—it's what he would have wanted.

  Five more floors down, Era caught a sign that read, “FORBIDDEN CHAMBER—GODS HELP US.”

  One more, and they were in a narrow, barrel-vaulted corridor. At the end was a faint light, the murmur of Ofelia's voice, and the sound of harps.

  “She's here,” whispered Era. “She's saying something.”

  Steve nodded.

  “I dunno...” Era concentrated, trying to pick up the tone of her voice. “She sounds pretty happy, for some reason. Like, she's complimenting someone—”

  Wait, this is all adding up…cotton candy, glitter, dead goblins, didn’t hurt Ofelia...

  The realization hit Era like a specially crafted Era-hitting implement. Yep, we got ourselves a unicorn. It won’t hurt virgins, so I should be fine. Unless...

  “Steve,” whispered Era. “You’re a virgin, right?”

  The monkey tilted his head.

  “Look, you know Dad’s magazines, right? Have you done anything like that?”

  Further head tilting.

  “Okay, how do I put this…have you ever had a... special somemonkey?”

  Steve nodded, pointing to himself. Emotions and sentience were often considered a design flaw in familiars. Even so, Steve had a few opinions of his own, and the most important one was, “I have a crush on myself.”

  “I see,” said Era. “Well, you do you. Wait here, and I’ll go grab Ofelia.”

  The hundred meter high, dome-shaped Forbidden Chamber was flooded with pink light. Goblin entrails lay scattered about the sandstone floor. Obrun, though pixel-fading with several spiral horns in his belly, cradled Pakh's corpse and quietly sobbed.

  [Obrun died of his wounds.]

  On the other side of the stone sarcophagus and its giant protruding sword, Ofelia, her face pale with fear, drew a brush through the glittery, sparkling mane of the beast, who lay down beside her. At either side of the unicorn's head, a pair of little pixie-like people played their harps and sang a chirping little fairy song.

  “Your mane is so soft, Stardust Dreamer,” said Ofelia. “It reminds me of home.”

  The unicorn whinnied in delight.

  “As in, it makes me want to go home.”

  Another whinny.

  “Point being, Stardust Dreamer, I need to leave as soon as possible.”

  The unicorn giggled, got up, and did a little clippity-cloppity dressage dance, reared up on its back, and the words “STARDUST DREAMER,” written in shimmering pastels, appeared around its head.

  “Yes, fabulous, wonderful!” said Ofelia. “Does that mean I can leave?”

  A stream of shining light shot from the tip of the beast's horn, forming a rainbow. It landed on the floor and formed a cauldron-sized iron pot of gold, the side of which read, “YOU LIVE HERE NOW” in carefully arranged mermaid stickers.

  Ofelia facepalmed. “So majestic. You're my best friend.”

  The harp playing fairies shrieked and hid in the unicorn's mane. The beast lifted its head, turning to the tunnel.

  Era waved. “Hey there, pretty pony,” said Era. “My untouched genitalia and I would like to pick up my platonic friend for our church youth group. Does that sparkle with you?”

  Sadly, only virgin girls counted for a unicorn's rage immunity, so this didn't sparkle with Mr. S.D. in the slightest. Its eyes turned red.

  The unicorn roared, baring all five rows of its retractable shark teeth—as many as its relatively un-sharkly horse mouth would have allowed.

  [Boss Battle!]

  [Stardust Dreamer ~Your Best Friend!~]

>   [Bestiary: Stardust Dreamer]

  [Type: Sacred Beast]

  [Weaknesses: Darkness]

  [HP: 30,000]

  [Description: Contrary to popular belief, friendship is not magic. It's actually a form of entry level ESP, which shares a power sourcing method with psychokinesis, which is related to, but not one and the same with, sorcery.]

  Era drew his sword, which trembled in his hand. Memories of the horse elemental from last May came flooding back. If I ever see another ironically terrifying horse in my life, it'll be a few epochs too soon.

  [Stardust Dreamer — The Power of Teamwork]

  The horn pulsed with a violently pink flash of plasma. Piles of mangled goblin flesh levitated from the floor. Pink and blue cotton candy hissed out from their emptied veins until the missing pieces of their bodies regenerated into limping, technically G-rated imitations of their forms in life.

  [Goblin Zombies 1 through 5 would like to help!]

  “When we work together,” wheezed the severed head of what used to be Pakh, “nothing can stop us...”

  Era threw up in his mouth a little. Okay, the plan's been ruined, so I need a new one. No time for a big one. Uh, kill the zombies first?

  He sent the Schiavona flying with a flick of his wrist, aiming for the zombie closest to him...

  [Era — String the Pearls]

  [2,305 DMG to Goblin Zombie 3]

  ...then the others.

  [1,984 DMG to Goblin Zombie 2]

  [CRITICAL HIT!]

  [4,059 DMG to Goblin Zombie 4]

  [Goblin Zombie 4 was slain!]

  [2,401 DMG to Goblin Zombie 1]

  [Interrupted!]

  The sword stopped in midair, its green aura turning pink. It turned and aimed toward Era.

  [Goblin Zombie 5 — It's Not Very Nice to Throw Things, Era]

  Era scoffed. You did NOT just sword-cuck me, you strawberry flavored piece of—

  [Goblin Zombie 5 — How Would YOU Like It If I Threw a Sword at You? Huh?]

  The pink blade sped toward Era's face. He threw his hands out in front of him, trying to wrestle away psychic control.

  [Era — MINE]

  Pink faded to green, then pink again, then green again. The sword quivered in midair, inches away from Era's face.

  Godsdammit. Getting stabbed by my own sword would be the worst way to go. That's the fencing equivalent of choking on your own spit.

  Goblin Zombie 5 (the one that used to be Pakh) groaned and channeled its pink energy into the blade. “Maybe the sword doesn't want to be yours...” he moaned. “You need to let your loved ones... make their own decisions...”

  Era lowered his hands. “Okay,” he said, with a sigh. “Schiavona, I know we've been through a lot together. But if you wanna go with the goblin zombie, I want you to know that it's okay. You've learned so much and grown so sharp. You deserve to be with someone who can wield you to your fullest potential, and if I'm not that fencer... I mean, I'll miss you, but I can live with that. I can move past that. But hey, keep in touch, all right?” He shot his sword a finger gun.

  [Schiavona — DONT BE STOOPID, U KNOW UR MY 4EVER BOY <3]

  The dark green glow became a fierce, bright lime, burning away any traces of pink, and it launched toward the goblin zombie, spinning rapidly.

  A satisfied grin came across the zombie's face. “That's better,” he moaned. “Now, let that be a learning experience for—”

  [Era — Flying Blender]

  [Hit 17 times!]

  [20,472 DMG to Goblin Zombie 5]

  [Goblin Zombie 5 was reduced to a thin paste of exploding war pixels!]

  The blade returned to Era's hand. He wiped the cotton candy off and gave the blade a little kiss. Ooooh, mah little pretty one, mah pretty one, when you gonna gimme some tiiiime, Schiavona…

  All the while, the Unicorn had stood nearby, glaring. Once the zombie problem had been dealt with, there remained the greater issue of the prettiest little unicorn in Luminar.

  [Stardust Dreamer — Rhino Charge]

  Era ran down the entry hallway, with the shimmering love beast hot on his tail. The sparks of its hooves on the sandstone arced into little star and heart shapes.

  He dropped onto the floor, feigning tripping. The floor vibrated against his cheek from the unicorn's hoofbeats. At the last second before being trampled, the elf shoved the schiavona into the monster's chest.

  [Era — Trap Strike]

  Stardust Dreamer found itself impaled by the ancient claymore. A stream of war pixels shot onto Era’s face from the wound. It screamed.

  [14,290 DMG to Stardust Dreamer]

  [4,004,869 DMG to Stardust Dreamer's feelings]

  Seeing his chance, Era crawled up the monster's leg, hung onto the mane with one hand, and used the other to grab the horn. Heh. Everything's death and glitter until you go for its extremely obvious weak poin—

  The gushing war pixels ejected the sword back onto the floor, and a single iridescent tear came down the unicorn's cheek.

  [Era made a unicorn cry!]

  [You bastard!]

  [Stardust Dreamer — MAKE A WISH, MOTHERVOGGER!]

  Rainbows formed around the unicorn, and within seconds, Era found himself grabbing the horn for his own safety. The monster ran up the winding stairway at roughly 130 miles an hour, trying to throw his passenger off.

  The sound of his screaming echoed throughout the entire tomb as poor Era was forced to take a grand tour of the place. The horn pulsed with light and heat under his grasp, burning his skin.

  [Ofelia — Get Down, Mr. President!]

  Speeding back into the Forbidden Chamber, the unicorn made a sudden stop. A single trampling hoof had landed on Ofelia's shoulder, who had stolen one of the dead zombie's daggers for combat mode.

  [1,209 DMG to Ofel –]

  [Error — Invalid Target]

  The unicorn had hurt a virgin. Its theriomantic programming ran into a much feared paradox, and it froze in midair, desperately trying to reboot.

  Because the kinetic energy had to go somewhere, Era was flung screaming toward the other side of the chamber, with the horn still in his hands...

  [2,104 DMG to Era]

  ...which, of course, meant...

  [Horn broken off!]

  [9,999,999 DMG to Stardust Dreamer]

  [It is now safe to turn off your unicorn.]

  The unicorn scattered into pixels. The pink glow of the Forbidden Chamber slowly reverted back to a dim bluish white from the crystal lamps.

  With the death of their master, the three remaining goblin zombies fell apart and returned to the dust of Luminar.

  [Victory!]

  [Gained 492,019 EXP and 60,000 G*]

  [Ofelia grew to level 70!]

  [HP 7000 — MP 780]

  Chapter 21

  “The Monkey Thought 'Twas All in Fun...”

  Contrary to the title, Steve didn’t think any of this was “all in fun.” The skeletal simian was freshly naked; a brief scuffle in the darkness with several hungry rats had left only a few fish ribs protruding from his monkey ribs. Once the unicorn fight was over, Steve was thoroughly finished with tomb shenanigans, so he climbed into Era’s messenger bag and pretended to be a spare shirt until this all blew over. Era’s bag smelled vaguely of fish for a year after, but it had smelled worse before.

  “Glad that's over with,” said Ofelia. “Thank you for—”

  “What the hell were you thinking?” asked Era. “That unicorn could have killed you, Ofelia.”

  “It can't hurt me, Signor Era.”

  “Except it did hurt you.”

  Ofelia folded her arms. “All right, fine, it can't kill me. And aren't you the one always jumping out in front of Neverstone blasts?”

  “That was one time.” Well, Lord Monty. “Two times.” And Rimsky on the train, but that wasn't my idea. “Point five.”

  “Signor Era, it's the duty of a paladin to suffer for the sake of others. You do your duty, and I'll do mine, all r
ight?”

  Era put his hands on her shoulders. “Look at me,” he said.

  She hesitated but did.

  “It's also your duty to obey your commanding officer, right?”

  A nod.

  “Then as your acting C.O., I've got something to say: you have felt enough pain. Give yourself a break and be nicer to yourself—that's an order. Got me, soldier?”

  Ofelia froze.

  “I'm sorry, Signor Era,” she said. “It's not that simple.”

  He removed his hands. Did I lay it on too thick?

  Ofelia lifted the bottom of her sweater, exposing a jagged black mark across her abdomen—like a kite or a diamond.

  “This magic sigil was given to me by the Northwestern Orthodox patriarch himself,” she said. “It amplifies any pain received on my stomach tenfold. It is the vessel that carries House Niccolo's sins, and only through collective atonement can we erase this mark.”

  Era's eyes widened. “All the sins? Including your father's genocide?”

  Thin tears crawled down her cheeks. “This is the only way to make sure the Light of the Gods never touches Mother Rosencrace again.”

  I hate seeing her like this. Vog it, these are her deeply-ingrained religious beliefs. I can’t third path her out of those without causing some serious damage.

  “Okay,” said Era. “I, for one, think you're a fantastic person who doesn't deserve to treat yourself like this, but we can agree to disagree. Just do me a solid and ease up on the self-hatred for tactical reasons.”