Travail Online: Transcend: LitRPG Series (Book 3)

by Brian Simons

  XP: 538,989 XP to Next Level Level: 34,711

  Then the dirigible shook without warning as Captain Pell twisted the crank that positioned the ship’s propellers. “Duck!” he yelled.

  Coral didn’t duck. She leaned over the railing and saw Havenstock castle. They were a hundred feet or so above one of its towers. Guards stood atop the tower, aiming arrows at the blimp. They must have heard Varta from the castle and decided not to let ogres fly through Havenstock’s airspace without contest.

  “What do we do?” Coral asked.

  “It’s too far to jump,” Sal said. “We’d lose a lot of HP and then have those guards to deal with.” An arrow whizzed past his head.

  Coral shot an arrow at the guards, but they ignored it. She crouched down to make herself a smaller target.

  “So we do nothing?” she asked.

  “I beg your pardon!” Captain Pell yelled. He was working up a sweat peddling and cranking in an effort to pull the ship away from the castle. “This is not nothing!”

  Just then an arrow shot through the dirigible’s balloon, leaving a three inch slit near its top.

  “Oh no,” the captain said and stopped peddling. His eyes were transfixed on the damaged fabric.

  “What’s this made of?” Coral yelled.

  The orc replied, “Likeworm skin.”

  Perfect. Monster hide. “Give me a boost!” she said.

  Sal helped her climb up the rope that led from the passenger platform to the balloon. The blimp descended quickly as the bloated likeworm body lost air. Coral continued to climb, grabbing handfuls of the fabric to hold onto as she neared the gash torn by a guard’s arrow.

  Hot air bellowed out of the balloon as she readied her suture thread. She touched her needle to the base of the tear, but couldn’t push it through.

  >> This activity requires Bagmaking 20.

  Not only was Coral not skilled at Bagmaking, she never would be. She had lost access to that skill tree when she switched classes from Seamstress to Garmenter. Whatever class orcs relied on to make dirigibles, Garmenter wasn’t it.

  Arrows volleyed through the air as the blimp sank further toward the castle. “Hold on!” the orc captain said. He threw a handful of small chips into the flame that controlled the dirigible and they ignited like a rocket, thrusting the likeworm balloon higher into the air as it filled with heat faster than the air could escape. The castle got smaller below them as they ascended, arrows rising and falling far below them.

  “Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Coral yelled over the roaring flame.

  “Because it’s too hot this way,” the orc said. “See?”

  The balloon had caught fire, releasing its internal air in a giant gust and sending the aircraft on a sinking-falling-plummeting journey well past the city walls and into the Hiber Woods — a forest at the base of the dwarves’ mountain separating the human kingdom from the dwarves.

  “Hold on!” the orc said. “This is going to hurt.”

  24

  The aircraft picked up speed and lost its balance as it careened toward the trees. Coral gripped the wooden railing of the ship’s passenger platform and braced for impact. She had no idea how many hit points she’d lose, or how badly it would actually hurt.

  Varta was the first to topple over the railing and plummet toward the forest. Aga and Sal were shortly behind. Captain Pell continued to grip the nearest rail and peddle in vain, as if he could still steer the aircraft away from danger. The thick canopy of trees below provided no safe landing.

  The platform broke in two as it collided with a tree below. Coral clung to the wooden rail, but it was no use. The likeworm balloon and heavy rigging continued to sail forward, dragging the remnants of the platform with it and toppling everything over. She lost her grip, and tumbled through the tree limbs below.

  She shut her eyes and waited, but she didn’t hit the ground. Instead, she caught on something that rebounded her upward for a moment before she fell again, softly, and came to rest. She opened her eyes to an upside down world as she hung from a tree.

  Her complete inability to move her arms and legs told her everything she needed to know. She had fallen into an arackid web.

  “Guys?” she yelled. No one responded. She couldn’t be sure how far flung they all were, or even which direction they were from her. She struggled to free herself from the sticky substance, but each move she made only seemed to enmesh her further into it.

  “Hello?” she yelled again. Her only response this time was a faint chittering sound. She recognized that sound. It was the sound of a giant spider.

  She realized she was still recording, having caught the whole crash on video. She let the camera keep running, just in case this was the last video she lived to make.

  She had to get out of that tree, and fast. Her legs were plastered in place above her head. Her arms were stretched out below her against the dense cobweb. It was like she had been crucified upside down on a cross made of spider secretions. Her waist was the only part not glued down, but no amount of bucking against the webbing loosened its hold on the rest of her.

  Yellow eyes peered at her from among the leaves. As the arackid got closer, its face emerged from hiding, revealing three pairs of eyes all trained on Coral. Two large fangs jutted forward from its hairy face.

  Coral strained her neck to look around. Even the backs of her hands were adhered to thick strands of spider silk. A hard glance at the spider encroaching on her showed that she could probably take it in a one-on-one fight, if only she could move.

  >> Level 24 Arackid.

  The spider brought up two arms and started pulling the webbing away from the tree branches and folding it over Coral’s legs. If she didn’t act fast, this mob would ball her up in a sticky sarcophagus and make a meal out of her.

  Her legs went nowhere as she kicked and thrashed. Her arrows sat idly in her quiver, her shears were trapped in her sewing kit. She needed something she could use.

  The spider balled up her feet in a thick sheet of webbing and continued to sew up her legs.

  She tried again to make a fist and remembered her Ring of Force. Activating it would give her five seconds of increased strength. She could only use it once per day, but she hadn’t used it in over a week now. It might give her enough strength to tear herself free from the webbing, but then she’d lose access to one of her best items — and for what, to fight off a Level 24 spider mob? Even if she could get it out of her inventory bag, that seemed like a waste. There had to be something else.

  As the arackid continued to weave Coral into a cocoon, she pulled her arm with all of her might. She was able to move, slowly, if she used all of her strength. Exhausted, she released her arm muscles and her arm sprang back into its previous position.

  She tried again, aiming for her quiver. If she could grab an arrow, she might be able to keep the spider at bay. She strained her biceps to get her hand within grasping distance, then curled her wrist. The spider had her up to the waist in webbing now, but she continued her incremental reach for an arrow.

  Her fingers grazed the feather fletching, then the wooden shaft. Her biceps burned with overexertion, but she continued to reach. Finally, she pinched an arrow between her thumb and forefinger and let the webbing snap her arm back to its earlier position.

  She craned her neck as the spider poked claw-tipped arms into her stomach on its mission to smother her in webbing.

  A hook shot arrow. All that effort, and she didn’t get a proper weapon.

  Freeing herself was going to take some time. She turned the arrow in her hand until the fishhook’s single barb rested against the thick strands of web near her hand and she dragged the hook across them, sawing through them one by one. As the strands snapped, she felt the webbing beneath her bounce. It was losing its structural support.

  Hope rushed through Coral all at once. If she plucked the right strings, she might be able to free herself entirely rather than limb by limb.

  As the spider crept
further up her body, she sawed away the web strands she could reach, and in the process gained a wider range of motion for her arm. The spider pressed its face against hers, staring into her eyes as it prepared to weave a long stretch of webbing across her torso.

  What it didn’t know was that Coral had use of her arm back. She jammed the arrow into one of the mob’s eyes and yanked it back out. A viscous yellow fluid slicked the fishhook arrowhead. As the spider recoiled in pain, she reached across herself and tore apart the webbing holding her other arm in place, then she sliced into whatever webs she could reach. The webbing continued to bounce and sag.

  The arackid, down one eye, climbed up Coral once more and bore its fangs. Just as it was about to sink its teeth into her face, the webbed platform sagged once more, then tore from the tree limbs and sent Coral and the spider tumbling through tree branches and onto the ground.

  >> You fell 22 feet! 39 Damage.

  HP well spent, Coral thought.

  The spider leapt from the tree and screeched at the meal that got away. Coral sliced open the silken cocoon that stretched from her boots to her chest while the spider got to its feet. Now that she was free, Coral could see the mob had only six of its legs intact, and it had recent wounds glistening on its side.

  Its HP bar was almost gone, but that wasn’t Coral’s doing.

  Whatever battle this spider had survived, it was left with deep wounds that wouldn’t heal on their own until they were stitched up. Not that Coral was offering. That explained why it was trying to eat her alive. Food restores HP, even if that food is human.

  She plucked an arrow from her quiver and drew back her bowstring. The arackid darted toward her, but it wasn’t fast enough to make contact. Coral landed an arrow in what might have been a shoulder and it fell to the ground, dead.

  >> Arackid takes 328 Damage.

  >> Arackid dies. You receive 72 XP.

  Coral stood ready for more attackers, but none came. She strained to hear any signs of mobs. She wasn’t sure if she heard a faint chittering sound from deep in the woods, or if it was just her imagination playing adrenaline-fueled tricks on her. Either way, there was nothing nearby. She put away her bow and looked around.

  The trees were practically gray with spider webs. They covered the undersides of the trees, and large patches of webbing dangled from some of the tree limbs, wafting in the breeze. She would have guessed that this was their lair, but the absence of sound or movement suggested otherwise. It was like the arachnoid species had all but vanished.

  She walked among the trees as quietly as she could, hoping to hear signs of her friends. Eventually, she did hear a murmuring from ahead.

  Coral followed the sound of a small voice struggling in a tree. Maybe it was Captain Pell? She peered into the branches overhead and saw a small ball of spider web hanging from a long sticky thread. Curled up inside was a small shape struggling against its encasement.

  “Hold on,” Coral said. She shot an arrow at the spider string. It pierced the tether and dropped the balled up hostage to the ground. She took an arrow and used it like a seam ripper, snapping strands from the outer layer of the web sac, careful not to stab whoever was trapped inside.

  No sooner did she pull back the first full layer of webbing than a small, green person jumped out. He brushed off his armor and shook violently for a moment before taking up a defensive stance and pointing at Coral with a small knife.

  “Be nice!” she said, staring hard at the little guy. “I just saved you!”

  >> Level 4 Goblin Charger.

  The goblin’s skin wasn’t the same pale green as an ogre’s. It was darker, like pine needles. His eyes darted back and forth like he wasn’t sure whether to run away. He was a sad little thing, and Coral knew she could knock him out with one arrow at his low level, but he wasn’t aggressive. If anything he was defensive. Maybe it was because she had such a higher level than him, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it would be cruel to kill him now after she had just given him his first hope of freedom in who knew how long.

  “I’m going to look for my friends,” she said, “don’t make me regret leaving you here.”

  Coral turned her back on the goblin and walked away. When she peered over her shoulder, she caught the small creature following a few paces behind with his knife held casually at his side. He froze in place the second her eyes fell on his.

  For crying out loud, she thought, the last thing I need is a goblin stalker.

  She ignored him and kept walking since he seemed harmless. “Sal? Varta? Anyone?”

  “Over here!” someone yelled. Coral followed the sound of that voice to find Sal and Aga picking spider webs off each other.

  At the sight of the two massive ogres, the small goblin hid behind Coral and hugged her leg.

  “You have a pet,” Sal said.

  “I don’t want a pet,” Coral said, twisting her torso to stare at the goblin. He either didn’t understand or didn’t care. He continued to cling to her.

  “He’s a really low level, why didn’t you kill him?” Sal asked. “I’ve eaten whole goblins before. They’re just monsters.”

  “I found him stuck in a tree,” she said. “I thought he might be Captain Pell at first, but now it’s too late. He’s so helpless.”

  “You thought that ugly mug was mine!” Captain Pell yelled, pushing his way through a large bush. Varta was close behind, still dressed head to toe in cheetah pelt. “I should charge you extra for the insult, on top of the damage to my dirigible. It’s unfixable!” The orc shook his head and walked off, muttering something about charging higher rates next time. A quick burst of light indicated that he had teleported away.

  “How did everyone fare?” Coral asked.

  “No broken bones,” Sal said, “but no one’s HP meter is full. Before we try to get into Havenstock, we should find someplace to rest up. Preferably someplace with food.”

  “I can fish,” Coral said.

  “Good,” Aga said, “I hear water that way.”

  “Okay,” Coral said to the small goblin at her side, “you can come with us. Just be careful.”

  >> Your relationship with Blat has improved from Neutral to Friendly.

  A gentle, sibilant sound came from that direction. Coral wouldn’t have picked it out as water, but she wasn’t exactly accustomed to the woods. As the group trudged through the trees, Varta pulled Coral aside.

  “Look at the way he walks,” she said, her eyes trained on Sal from behind. “So jiggly and powerful. How could you stay just friends with a man that majestic?”

  “Maybe I’m not his type,” Coral said.

  “Do you think I have a chance with him?” Varta asked.

  An NPC with romantic feelings for a player? Coral tried not to think on that too long. Varta wasn’t just an ogre General, she was the king’s daughter. A veritable princess. Would that put Sal in line for the throne one day?

  “I’ll see what I can find out,” Coral said. Varta brimmed with hope beneath her cheetah hood.

  The sound of the water ahead got louder, but more complicated. It seemed like the distant stirring sound had become less distant. Coral shook that feeling aside. It could just be the sound of the woods. Crickets and other ambient sounds to make the environment come alive. Her skin crawled with the thought of being trapped in another blanket of spider webbing.

  “Thank you, Coral!” Varta whispered. “My mother would love him.” She balled up her fists and started to grunt through heavy breaths.

  “Are you ok?” Coral asked. Of course she’s not okay, Coral thought. She lost a parent.

  “I just get angry, when I think of my mother. And what the elves did to her.”

  “I’m really sorry, Varta. What did they do?” Coral asked.

  “They turned her to stone,” Varta said, “you knew that.”

  “Wait. When you said that statue at the Death Festival was your mother, I thought it was just a statue of your mother.”

  “Sometimes,” Varta said,
putting a hand on Coral’s shoulder, “I forget that humans aren’t so smart.”

  Coral looked over her shoulder, past Varta’s hand and into the dark spaces between the trees behind them. She had that feeling crawling up her neck like someone was watching them. The rustling of leaves filled her with the paranoia that every sound was a spider salivating at the thought of sinking its grotesque fangs into her flesh and draining her blood like some kind of human fly.

  “When I was little,” Varta continued, “I used to play music. My father loved to dance as I played the drums. Then one day he took the drums away from me and told me I had to be a General instead. Learn to fight and protect the Ogrelands. See, the elves had come to make threats and Queen Mudge wouldn’t give in, so Sage Tawn turned her to stone. My father was just an Entomologist. Nothing he could do to stand up to the elves. So that’s my job now. Our mages can’t turn her back. We just have to wait for the day the wand he used on her finally runs out of energy and breaks the spell.”

  “Tawn?” Sal asked. “He’s a dark elf.”

  “Didn’t used to be,” Varta said. “He was Sivona’s right hand for a long time.”

  “Then how did they become enemies?” Coral asked. “Tawn wants Sivona dead. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Coral bumped into Sal’s outstretched arm and looked up, startled. “Guys,” he said, “that wasn’t water.”

  25

  Sitting before them on its back was an enormous spider, hissing and flailing its only five legs in the air. Bloody stumps were all that were left of its other three limbs. The violent, desperate sound of the hairy creature trying to right itself gave Coral goosebumps. Her goblin lackey sank his fingertips into her leg as he clutched her more tightly.