“Let’s just say my specialty is recovery of certain items,” I said in an attempt to sound mysterious.
“So you’re a thief?” Clavus said. “See that towser sleeping over there?”
He pointed at the guy who snored like a hacksaw applied to a metal pipe.
“He’s a thief, too. So’s the guy with the dagger. They ain’t in the other room. You get my drift? So move along, towser, and I won’t have to get out of this chair and introduce you to my new girlfriend.” He put his hand on the hammer’s haft.
This was not going as planned. Back in the old game you simply had to mention you were skilled in the dark ways and they would let you right in to do a quest. In the fucked up version of Th’loria, everyone was an idiot and didn’t play by the rules.
“Fine, fine. I guess old Tofpler isn’t interested in my great-grandmother’s cherry pie recipe then,” I said and turned away, staff dragging across the floor to punctuate my displeasure.
“Are you out of your bleeding mind? If I go in there and…” the guy trailed off as someone called to him from the other room.
I turned back to see if that had done the trick and sure enough Clavus had his head stuck through the curtain. He listened to someone for a few seconds and then retook his seat.
“Go on in,” he said.
It was hard to maintain a poker face. None of that had gone according to plan, and I was shocked that my gamble had worked at all. I now had a chance to talk to the thieves’ guild, and even though the rest of the world wasn’t working correctly, I had a feeling things were going to start following the rules again.
Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and kick myself.
16
WHAT A JUNT
It had come back to me the second we took a seat inside of the inn. This was the location of the thieves’ guild, and it was also the beginning of some of the most fun early quests in the game. There wasn’t so much sneaking around and breaking into homes and businesses, but more about going out and retrieving stuff that had been lost in nearby ruins. How the thieves’ guild knew that a swarm of giant spiders guarded the lost shrine of Kelaos and that it contained a relic of the elder age, only made sense in game logic. There were just some things you accepted because that’s the way a game writer came up with progression in the game.
I would be smart to remember, in the future, that I had no idea what kind of a maniac had written this part of the world.
Tofpler was just as I remembered him. Dark eyes, greasy hair, overweight, and dressed in what amounted to rags. Underneath his rags he probably wore silk, and a dozen gold chains looped around his neck in case of trouble with the guards.
Tofpler was the head of the local thieves’ guild. If there was a piece of gear out in the wild, or even in the city, that needed to be retrieved for XP, he had his finger on the pulse. In the early part of the game, a clue suggested asking Tofpler about his great-grandmother’s pie recipe. I hadn’t found that clue yet, so I had gambled by cheating a little bit. Once I mentioned the hint, the game’s logic had been forced to take over, and that’s how I got our meeting.
Or so I thought.
A pair of men dressed much like Tofpler sat across the table from him. One balanced a dagger on his finger tip, flipped it into the air and then moved his hand away, so it slammed into the wood tabletop and sank half an inch into the surface. Something red stained the wood around the marks, and I assumed it was blood.
The second man was basically a giant. He drank from a mug but kept his right hand buried in his tunic.
“Greetings, good sir. I’m new to the city and I understand that you might be the man to see about some work,” I announced and gave a slight bow.
Tofpler looked me up and down, let his eyes settle on my staff for a second, then let out a chuckle, and then turned back to his disgusting dinner. The orange carapace had been flame-licked and split along the middle to expose guts, and white meat. The body sat six or seven inches above the plate thanks to long spikes on its turtle-like shell. Tofpler dug a fork around and lifted out a steaming pile of slime and slurped his lips as he chewed.
“Know what this is?” Tofpler asked but didn’t look at me.
“Looks like a shrike bug,” I said.
“You’re pretty smart for a…” Tofpler looked me over again. “Whatever you are.”
“I’m a mere adventurer, my friend, and I believe I can be of service. Surely there is something I can retrieve for you. Some job I can complete. I’m at your service,” I offered again.
Tofpler blew out a breath and guffawed. He licked slime off his lip and then went back to digging around in the bug’s guts.
“I’m quite serious, and I knew the code. If I didn’t know the code, how would I even be here?”
“Because you’re the stupidest man in Weslori. That’d be my guess, towser.”
“I’m getting sick and tired of being called a towser,” I warned.
One thing that I knew from the game was that NPCs couldn’t attack you unless you attacked them first. This hadn’t counted when we took on the bandits because they were mobs, and mobs were fair game. They could be your prey, or they could attack any player at will.
I had game logic on my side again.
“You’re a smart towser. I’ll give you that,” Tofpler said and looked at the man across from him, the one tossing the dagger. “Isn’t he smart?”
“Real smart.” He threw the dagger in the air again and caught it by the tip and shrugged at Tofpler.
“Don’t kill him yet. I want to know how in the world he knows our code phrase. Which one of our little pissants gave it out?”
“Don’t know, boss,” the dagger tosser said.
“You,” Tofpler pointed at the silent partner. “Find out who it was. I want him strung up by morning.”
“Aye,” the man said in a deep husky voice that spoke of some damage to his throat. Well, that explained his silence.
“Just hear me out,” I said.
“Out sounds good to me. Toss this towser out when you leave, eh Junt?” Tofpler said.
“Aye,” Junt grunted again. “Skin him or just kill him quickly?”
“I don’t care. Just make him go away,” Tofpler said like he was asking Junt to take out the trash.
The man rose, and rose, and rose. He had to be at least six-foot-seven, and his head nearly touched the ceiling. He stepped back from his bench and drew a dagger that was longer than my forearm.
“Wait,” I pleaded as I backed up. I tried to think of something, anything, that could calm Tofpler. I ran my hands over my chest and bag, thinking a few coins might make a difference.
“Wait,” Tofpler said.
Junt paused in his step and became a statue.
“Where’d you get that?” Tofpler asked, and pointed at my chest.
“This?” I pulled the mana granting medallion out of my robe and flashed the gem.
“That.”
“Out in the wild. I told you, I’m good at retrieving things,” I said. “Something similar you need me to fetch? I’m sure we can strike a bargain.”
“Last time I saw that one of my men, fella by the name of Erelot had it. Stole it from one of the members of the Crimson Guild up on the hill. He gave it to you?”
“Right. Erelot gave it to me and then told me to say the words. He and I are great friends.”
Tofpler smiled and sat back in his chair, “Ah, that explains it. I understand now.”
Finally. One thing I liked about Realms of Th’loria was that if you just played by the rules, parts would eventually fall into order.
“Erelot, a man who’d sell his mother’s last girdle if it meant he’d earn a little coin gave it to you.” Tofpler nodded at Junt. “Kill him slowly and feed his corpse to the crows.”
“You can’t kill me. I’m a player,” I said in frustration.
Junt didn’t appear to care about any rules. The left corner of his lip snarled up, and he licked his lips with a tongue co
vered in open sores.
“Rules are meant to be broken, just like your back,” Tofpler said then turned his attention to his disgusting meal.
I’d like to say I put up a brave fight and wiped the floor with the corpses of the men in the room. I’d like to brag that I had enough power to blast the roof off the inn.
Instead, I spun, slammed the curtain aside with the staff, ran smack into the guard outside, knocked him off his feet, and then fled down the stairs. Karian rose as I pounded down to the first floor while Oz put his hand on his short sword.
“Walt?” Karian asked as I made it back into the main room.
“Things didn’t go as expected. We should leave,” I said in a panic.
Food had just arrived, and bowls of stew sat steaming. Oz had finished his mug of ale and looked a little flushed.
Junt took the stairs two at a time, being cautious to duck so he didn’t bash his head.
“Who did you piss off?” Karian said and drew her daggers.
“That guy, and a few other guys upstairs,” I said. “We should probably follow the old saying that discretion is the better part of valor and get the hell out of here.”
“Fine by me,” Oz hiccuped and rose on wobbly legs.
“He’s red to me,” Karian said.
“Let’s cut his legs off, then his balls,” Oz said with bravado.
“Let’s not,” Karian grabbed Oz by the collar and pulled him after her.
The shapes appeared in my head before I could stop them. I raised my hands and fired a bolt of ice at Junt. He tried to duck but he was only halfway down the stairs, and it got him right under his midsection. The ice threw him against the wall, then he leaned over to cup his nethers.
“Oh man. I got Junt in the junk.” I turned and hustled after Karian and Oz into the street.
WE WERE a block away when I turned to find Junt bearing down on us. I would have thought a guy that size couldn’t possibly run, but he didn’t have to. His legs were so long that each of his single strides equaled a pair of mine.
“He’s gaining,” I panted.
“No shit. Why did you have to shoot him?” Karian asked as we jogged around a corner. “I think it just made him madder.”
The street we found ourselves on was practically deserted. Weird considering this used to be nicknamed trainer’s row. I grimaced because right there was the mage’s guild. Gear, potions, scrolls, and a senior mage who would help allocate skill points was just inside.
The warrior guild sat just across the street. Kitty corner to it lay the paladin’s den, and across from that a location dedicated to priests. Back when Th’loria had launched, this street would have been crowded with new players running off to complete quests, collect rewards, and level up their skills.
Now it was a ghost town.
“You can run…” Junt called as he rounded the corner.
I tripped and almost fell right into the mages’ sign.
Painted on the surface was a man dressed in a robe clutching a glowing orb while staring up at the sky. I followed his gaze and found something that made me suck in a breath.
It was the woman from the dream.
Then I realized who she was.
“But you can’t hide,” Junt finished as I pushed myself back to my feet.
JUNT CLOSED ON ME, so I grabbed the sign and pulled myself to my feet, then ran after Karian and Oz.
As soon as we lost this loser, I planned to go back to the mages’ guild and follow the words the woman in my vision had charged me to follow. She had said I would know when I saw the sign. Funny that it was a wooden sign.
“Keep him busy; I’ve got an idea,” Karian said.
“What, like play cards with him?” Oz burped.
“Whatever you have to do,” she said and turned away.
“Wait, where are you going?” I called out as she moved to the end of the block.
“I’ll be back, I promise. Just don’t get killed. I would hate to walk all the damn way back to Candleburn to retrieve you both,” were her parting words.
The medallion had supplemented my mana pool enough to allow me an extra frost blast, but I doubted I could kill Junt. At least I could slow him. Oz faded to the right and went around a stalled wagon. Junt didn’t even pay attention to Oz; he only had eyes for me. Now that he was only twenty-five feet away I noticed he had a weird limp. Served him right.
“Go back home, Junt, and I won’t blow off your junk,” I said and lifted my hands in what I hoped was a menacing manner.
“Gonna gut you for starters. Then I’m going to suck out your eyeballs and squash them between my teeth.” Junt talked slowly, and he couldn’t seem to walk and use words at the same time.
“Have it your way,” I said and unleashed Draedor’s Fingers.
The grasping hands erupted from the ground and caressed Junt’s ankles. He attempted to dance out of the way after letting out a high pitched squeal, and succeeded in almost crashing to the ground.
“Give it up. There’s more where that came from,” I warned Junt.
“Gonna rip out your asshole and feed it to the pigs,” Junt bellowed.
“Dude. That is one nasty image. Have you ever questioned how one goes about ripping out an asshole?”
“I’ve done it before,” Junt said as he shuddered and tried to escape the fingers.
“You’ve done it before?” I laughed. “On purpose?”
“Keep talking, smart boy,” Junt said.
“Go away now, and I won’t finish you off. I’ll let you live,” I said. The spell’s effect on Junt made me feel brave. If I could slow him, hit him with the staff, maybe I could knock him out.
Oz made it around the side of the wagon and had a clear shot at Junt’s flank.
The fingers gave way, so I summoned my other spell, set the staff in the crook of my shoulder and neck, and fired a blast of frost at Junt. He must have learned from his first encounter because he dropped to the side and the ice flew just over his head and sailed into the sky.
I got one stumbling step backward, dropped the staff, and prepared to shoot him again. Junt was fast on his long legs and was almost within striking distance. I hit him with a blast full in the chest. He screamed and toppled backward.
Oz came out of hiding with his short sword in hand and advanced on Junt’s prone form. He stabbed at the tall man’s chest, but Junt slapped the blade to the side and stopped the blow. Oz stumbled, and Junt used the opportunity to kick Oz’s legs out from under him.
I reached into my pouch for a mana potion and grabbed the wrong one as I backed up a few steps.
“Come on, Oz,” I urged my friend under my breath.
“Gonna gut this one, too,” Junt growled.
I got my hands around another potion. Shit, alacrity again. Why hadn’t Oz taken that one?
Junt rolled over and got his knees underneath his body then pushed himself to his feet.
I double checked my HUD and found that I still had a little juice left, but my head pounded with pain right between my eyes.
“Stay down, Junt or this next spell’s going to be the end of you,” I bluffed.
“Think I’ll take your tongue and wear it round my neck for a few weeks,” Junt said as he rose to his full height.
I dug out another potion—shit, it was health again. I needed to get a better system in place, so I wasn’t always digging in this stupid bag.
A headache receded to the back of my head. I lifted my hands in a flourish I hoped would rattle Junt. He stopped in his tracks, raised his hands to the side, and waited to see which direction I might cast.
I gestured with both hands, Emperor Palpatine style, but didn’t hit him yet. He jumped to the right and then shot me a sheepish grin.
“Tricky mage, eh?” he said.
“I’m warning you,” I bluffed again.
His eyes darkened. "Baby mage, more like. You don’t have any mana left, do you?”
I shot him again. The ice blast flew straight and true an
d splattered his right shoulder. He staggered back and flapped his hands on the spot.
The headache stuck again and this time harder than ever. I saw double as I backed up a few more feet. My mana pool was depleted, but I got a potion out and found it was blue this time. I popped the cork and drained it in one go then tossed the vial to the side.
Oz had taken the opportunity to recover and pick up his sword. I tried not to stare and in the process, give away the surprise.
Oz gripped the sword in both hands, took a quick step, and rammed the blade into June's lower back.
Junt spun and smacked Oz so hard my friend flew back and landed in a puff of dust. From Junt’s back, the sword had penetrated his armor and entered at least four or five inches.
“Fuck it,” I said and prepared to hit him again with frost.
My head wanted to explode, but I pushed aside the pain and readied another spell.
Junt dropped to his knees and screamed in pain. He spun to the right as he tried to get to the blade, then to the left, but he couldn’t reach it.
I hit him one more time, and then I was the one who was done for. The pain built in waves and then roared to life. I thought my brain was going to explode in my head.
Junt swam into view.
A hand on my robe as I was lifted into the air.
Junt’s snarling face in front of mine.
His breath reeked of garlic and sour ale.
I swung at him, but he laughed off the blow.
His fist drove into my gut, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I tried to kick, but I didn’t have an ounce of energy left in me.
“Told you I was going to suck out your eyes,” Junt said.
“Suck on this,” a familiar voice said in the distance.
Junt howled in pain, and then I was free. I hit the ground and rolled away from the giant.
“You can’t do that, miss,” someone protested.
“Both of you are just about useless,” she said.
Karian. It was Karian talking.
Junt tried to get back up again like the Mechagodzilla he was, but couldn’t get off his knees in time. Karian flashed behind him and pulled something out of his back which resulted in him letting out another hiss of pain. Junt flailed his hand at Karian trying to hit her.
SHARDS OF REALITY: A LitRPG novel (Enter the Realm Book 1) Page 16
