Raiya: Starter Zone - A LitRPG Saga: Archon's Chosen - Book One

by Russell Wilbinski

  "Carver!" Skree said excitedly, moving to shake hands with the Kobold crafter. "I have to say; this harness has served me well."

  "Of course, it has, human. Carver only makes quality items." The leather worker said with disdain. "You think I would give you garbage?" The Kobold asked angrily.

  Skree was taken aback by the seemingly angry Kobold. "Carver, I'm sorry if I offended you, I just wanted to say thank you." He explained. The angry Kobold took a few threatening steps forward and Zuka moved between them, a low throaty growl of warning. Carver walked up directly to the wolf, staring into Zuka's eyes with intensity. Carver looked to Skree then back to Zuka, then to Skree. Then he burst out laughing, Zuka's head tilting confusedly as they both watched Carver laugh so hard he almost fell over.

  "What's happening?" Skree asked Sawbones, his brow furrowed.

  Sawbones shrugged, then did the universal sign for drinking boozes with his hand, sticking his tongue out the side of his snout.

  Carver slowly pulled himself together, wiping tears away from his face. "You should have seen the look on your face, my boy. Priceless! And Zuka!" He said, grabbing the sides of the wolf's head and rubbing their faces together. "Such a wonderful animal, ready to defend you with his life." He pulled back from his embrace with the wolf, picking up a bottle from the ground, chugging deeply as the amber liquid ran down the front of his leather apron.

  Skree rubbed his temples as he caught a whiff of the powerful liquor. "Samolin?"

  "SAMOLIN!" Carver exclaimed loudly, holding the bottle above his head. "Now, let me see that harness boy. Looks like it took a bit of a beating." He marched over to Skree, inspecting the Leather for nicks and scratches. "You definitely haven't been gentle with it, but what could I expect from a man such as yourself?" He asked rhetorically, continuing to circle Skree, finishing his inspection.

  He hopped back, swaying slightly. "You come see me after the feast, and I will patch this up for you, good as new. I even had a few more skill points to spend on increasing my leatherworking skill and have now reached the Artisan rank. That means I can add a few more bells and whistles for you!" Carver explained, slurring to his words.

  "This time, you have to let me pay you for your services though." Skree answered, his tone firm.

  "Pay me? Boy, that Essence Stone is worth more than most of my tools. It's definitely worth more than all my lazy apprentices combined." the words nearly impossible to understand as his speech rapidly deteriorated.

  Skree started to answer him, but he collapsed, the empty Samolin bottle rolling away. Skree looked to Mother Priestess. "Is he going to be okay?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Carver has never been able to handle his Samolin. Weak constitution that one. He will be back at it in a little bit. Samolin is powerfully intoxicating, but it wears off quickly." She explained, looking at the unconscious form of Carver. She glanced at Skree with a smile.

  "Shall we eat?" She asked, pointing toward the massive boar that was being slowly carved a few feet away. Zuka barked excitedly, his tail furiously beating at Skree's leg.

  "Whoa buddy, that tail is like a battering ram." Skree said to his companion, taking a step away from the flailing appendage. "Come on boy, let’s get some grub!"

  Zuka dashed toward the Kobolds cutting into the meat, causing them to flee in terror at the sight of a salivating wolf rushing at them. Skree laughed hard as one of the cooks leapt from the ledge, falling nearly eight feet into a pile of vegetables, inciting a small riot as a few female Kobolds battered him with sticks, shooing the terrified little guy away from their food.

  Skree looked around, realizing there were no plates or cutlery. As he checked the other fire pits, he saw that none were anywhere to be found. Instead, the Kobolds were carrying around handfuls of meat, greedily chomping away and returning once they had devoured what carried. Not one to argue, Skree grabbed a fistful of meat and tossed it to Zuka, who wolfed it down.

  From there, the night continued with many trips for more meat and vegetables. Sawbones tried to get Skree to drink some more Samolin, promising him it would be worth the suffering. He always did have more guts than brains, so he gulped down a few mouthfuls. He stuck out his tongue in disgust. It really was wretched stuff, but he managed to swallow the burning liquid. Within a few minutes, his head was swimming and he was feeling very, very drunk.

  "Daaaaang Bones, Samawin ees so stronk... how can you drank eet so mush?" He asked, surprised by the effort it took to talk. He was good and truly smashed.

  Sawbones swayed dangerously, words a bit messy. "Kobolds are mighty, humans can’t drink Samolin. I am King of Kobolds!" He pounded his chest.

  “King of Kobolds!” came an echoing cry from a nearby fire.

  "I am stronk!" He roared, holding his hands in the air. A cheer came from the same fire again. As they watch he tilted, slowly at first, until he fell flat on his back with a heavy thud, like a tree that had been felled by a lumberjack.

  Skree laughed like a lunatic, clapping wildly at his friends’ sudden change in elevation. He nearly had a heart attack when an unconscious Carver suddenly sat bolt upright, yelling "SAMOLIN!" before collapsing once again into oblivion. Skree thought the suggestion was a good one and tipped the bottle back, swallowing more of the bitter liquid. Blearily, he checked his status page.

  Condition: Extremely Drunk - Dexterity, Intelligence and Wisdom reduced by 30%, severe penalty to attack and defense. Strength and Charisma increased by 5%.

  It was so blurry he could barely read the text, so he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. He looked around blearily, noticing that Kobolds were dancing to a drum beat he had not noticed before. With a mighty effort he stood, marching over to the dancing crowd. His head was bobbing to the rhythm of its own accord, body just moving with sound. He watched the Kobolds, jumping up and down, spinning in circles, laughing, and having a great time.

  A lady Kobold, no bigger than a 10-year-old human, grabbed his arm and pulled him into the circle. She steadied him as he swayed then started a simple series of dance moves, indicating that he should do as she did. He paid careful attention and when the next measure of music started, he mimicked her moves. At first, he felt like he was doing it wrong, but the crowd cheered him on stoking his inner desire to dance.

  He jumped and pranced and did his best to follow the group, and when the beat changed from the rapid-fire tempo to a much more subdued rhythm, several Kobolds who had danced with him gave him hugs and hearty pats on the back.

  "Okay, wash this" He said as he started to do a complex series of dance steps.

  To Skree, he danced like the wind, a beautiful poetry of motion that would astonish everyone who watched. He spun and twisted through more and more complex steps, clapping his hands to the beat. He was the music, he was grace but most of all he was really, really drunk. Unfortunately to the Kobolds, it looked nothing of the sort.

  They watched in silence as the human flailed about like he was on fire, his hips thrusting awkwardly at different points throughout his performance. When he reached the crescendo, he snatched a bottle of Samolin from a nearby spectator and drank a massive swig of the now delicious liquid. He posed dramatically, waiting for their applause.

  Dead silence greeted him. "Whhaaat? You didn’t... like... my... mov..." he started to say before he toppled to the ground, blissful darkness overtaking him. Everyone looked around concerned, then in the distance a familiar voice yelled "SAMOLIN!" and the party resumed, this time without Skree.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  An all too familiar sensation roused Skree from his slumber.

  "Zuka, stoooop." He said, pushing the wolf away with a groan. He opened his eyes and searing pain shot through his skull, the dim light of the stone bedchamber still far too bright in his hungover condition. Zuka whined softly, licking gently at his hand. Skree gave the wolf a few pets with a sigh.

  "Don't worry Zuka, I'm fine..." he said as another lance of pain tore through his brain. "Okay, not fine, but definitely no
t dead."

  He stretched gingerly, trying to avoid causing another eruption of pain. He got his bearings and saw that on the table was a stone jug he hoped was full of water, along with a hearty serving of meat from the night before. He staggered over to the table, still woozy, and sniffed the contents of the jug. He smelled nothing at all, exhaling with relief. If it had been Samolin, he might have actually died right there on the spot.

  He drank deeply, the cool water restoring moisture to his aching throat. "Healing Tonic my ass..." he said in between gulps. After nearly drinking the entire jug, the pain in his mind receded a bit, a dull ache sticking to the back of his eyes. Shoveling a handful of meat into his mouth, he began to feel much restored. He checked his status page and saw he had an active condition:

  Samolin Poisoning - Dexterity reduced by 5%, health temporarily increased by 40%. You have imbibed far too much Samolin Miracle Tonic and have a hangover. While drinking this much Samolin has boosted your health temporarily, it has also given you a mighty hangover that will last several hours. In the future, be sure to drink responsibly.

  He dismissed the prompt, his eyebrows raising at the surprising status. Having 40% more health was impressive, but the reduction in Dexterity was not great. Surely it could be worse, but he didn't think he would be drinking that stuff again. He ate a few more bites, finished the jug of water and pushed the rest of the meat onto the floor for Zuka, who tore into the meal with reckless speed.

  Skree shook his head as he watched the wolf. "You could learn to enjoy the food you know?" He asked his companion sarcastically. Zuka glanced his way then finished the meat in a huge gulping bite. The wolf sat on its haunches, licking the grease from its lips. Zuka stared intently, then gave Skree an all too human grin. A wave of emotion crossed between them, Skree feeling Zuka's amusement.

  He rolled his eyes. "Now you’re a comedian too?" He asked, Zuka barking in response.

  Smiling, he delivered a firm scratch under Zuka's chin. "You overgrown mutt."

  "Lord Skree, it is good to see you are awake. Your condition seemed questionable when you were carried here." Kamilla's now familiar voice breaking him from his pets.

  "I can only imagine. I didn't... umm... embarrass myself too much, did I?"

  Kamilla considered his activities from the night before. "No, I would say you were the picture of Kobold propriety." She nodded in affirmation.

  Skree sighed in relief. "Oh good, I was concerned I might have done something foolish." He rubbed his hands on his shirt, still a little greasy from breakfast. His heart jumped into his throat as he realized his leather harness was missing. "Kamilla, where is my armor?"

  Confusion flashed across her face. "You don't remember?" her tone implied he wouldn't like the answer.

  He closed his eyes, knowing that she was about to tell him something he didn't want to hear. "No, I don’t remember." Dejectedly he asked. "Care to enlighten me?"

  "Of course, my lord. Shortly after you displayed your... unique mating dance, you fainted. After an hour or so, Carver found you and poured some Samolin on your face to wake you up. When you came to, you assumed he had urinated on you. You stripped off your armor and challenged Carver to a fight to the death." She explained, before Skree could interrupt, she continued the story.

  "Carver, never one to back down from a fight, removed his armor and agreed to fight you. As everyone gathered around, excited to watch a fight when you vomited onto your own armor then collapsed again." She was struggling to hold back a smile. "Carver moved to check on you, but then fainted as well." She couldn’t help it any longer, bursting into laughter.

  "When Carver fell, he fell face first into your butt." She was laughing uncontrollably. "Everyone laughed and laughed. Even Mother Priestess could not contain her mirth. King Sawbones ordered you returned to your room to sleep it off. After we separated you, we took your armor and Carver to his craft hall. He awoke several hours ago, feeling vitalized." Her tone returned to neutral. "He has spent the entire morning repairing your harness."

  Skree groaned, covering his face in shame. "This is why I stopped drinking in college."

  Her head tilted questioningly. "What is college?"

  "That is a story for another day. Do you think he is done?" Skree asked.

  She nodded. "Carver has been bragging about it all morning. Something about Mana-Warped leather and sharp fangs. I never really understand what he is talking about." She gestured to the door, motioning for them to leave.

  "Let me gather my things. Then we'll see what Carver has been up to." He moved to the bed, finding his dimensional bag, along with his weapons which he had left in his room the night before. Pulling his gear from his bag, he secured the hatchets awkwardly into his waistband, already missing his harness then slung the Great sword over his shoulder.

  "Well, let's go see that old..." a rumble cut him off as the chamber shook, dust and pebbles raining from the ceiling. Zuka sprang toward the door, hackles raised. "What’s going on boy?" Zuka looked at him, the fierce intelligence shining through his gaze. A feeling passed through his thoughts as if Zuka had spoken a single word directly into his mind.

  "Enemies."

  Skree sprinted toward the entrance to warren, Zuka and Kamilla close behind. As they neared the exit, they began to hear the screams of Kobolds and the sound of metal colliding with metal. Flashes of light illuminated the structure. They exited the building, and the scene that awaited them stopped them in their tracks.

  Men and women in black armor were everywhere, maybe a hundred or more were engaging in the wholesale slaughter of the Kobolds in the warren. Time seemed to slow as Skree saw them cut down females and younglings ruthlessly. Several of the armored figures cast spells, fireballs exploding and decimating groups of the fleeing Kobolds.

  A prompt appeared, and he read it quickly.

  Critical Quest - Protect the Blue Stone Clan: Invaders have attacked the heart of the Blue Stone Clan. Defend your people from these unknown invaders and save the King no matter the cost. This quest is mandatory.

  Rewards: Experience, Unknown treasure.

  Failure: Death of the Kobold Race.

  He finished reading and dismissed prompt. He had never received a mandatory quest before but he would not have hesitated if given a choice.

  Rage filled him, and a status icon appeared in his vision. Reading it he understood why his blood was suddenly burning. He was the Blue Stone Champion and he had sworn a blood oath. He read the prompt:

  Rage of the Blue Stone Champion - activated. 5 Stacks have been acquired. +50 strength.

  He remembered the details of the trait. Every time a Kobold died near him, he would regain 50 hit points and gain +10 strength. With 5 stacks his strength had skyrocketed from 26 to 76, giving him an absurd damage boost. With a savage desire for blood he prepared to enter the fray. Time to make these bastards pay.

  Skree turned to Kamilla. "Can you fight?"

  She bared her fangs with a hiss. "Yes. I stand with the Blue Stone Champion."

  Her words brought another icon to his attention. He read it and dismissed it. His aura - the Blue Stone Champion's Aura would give any Kobolds within 500 feet +50 melee and magical damage. It was time for him to turn the tide of this battle.

  "Zuka, do what you can to slow them down." He ordered his companion, who barked and sprinted away, leaping from the elevated stone platform and knocking several of the invaders to the floor. Skree watched as Zuka dashed away, toward a far group of the soldiers that were chasing a few younglings. He turned back to Kamilla.

  "We have to stay together." He said, looking her over. "Do you need a weapon?" He asked, seeing she was not carrying any.

  Her eyes burned with rage but she shook her head, instead, she held up her clawed hand which began glowing with brilliant red fire. "I will burn them all. Let’s show them what happens to the enemies of the Blue Stone Clan." She growled.

  He used Analyze on Kamilla, taking in her attributes for the first time.

&
nbsp; Name: Kamilla, Level 14 Fire Priestess

  Health:

  310

  Mana:

  540

  Stamina:

  320

  Strength:

  16

  Dexterity:

  19

  Constitution:

  21

  Intelligence:

  44

  Wisdom:

  52

  Charisma:

  18

  Disposition:

  Ally

  Skree nodded then leapt from the platform without a second thought, his Great sword flashing as he fell, slicing one of the figures nearly in two, his strike greatly empowered by the +50 strength. A spray of blood accompanied the savage attack, splashing across the two remaining enemies. They tried to react but were met with a wave of bright orange flames, a torrent of raging fire pouring from Kamilla's hands. The figures recoiled, trying to flee but she had no intention of letting them escape.

  She followed them, the flames never wavering as she poured on the heat. The figures collapsed quickly, their smoking, charred husks clattering to the ground. Skree whistled appreciatively. "Remind me not to piss you off."

  "Gladly." She growled, her feral gaze scanning the warren for her next victim. Skree spotted two more of the figures, currently attacking a few lightly armored Kobolds he didn’t recognize. They had long swords and were on the offensive, Keeping the inexperienced Kobolds at bay. Skree used Analyze on his enemies, trying to ascertain who they were. His jaw clenched as he read the information.

  Name: Amari, Disciple of Abrenacht, level 16 Human fighter, Health 360, Mana 320, Stamina 390, Disposition: Enmity. Disciples of Abrenacht are devout worshippers of the dark god Abrenacht. They are the rank and file soldiers of Taymo - the Red Heart Kingdom

  Name: Saern, Disciple of Abrenacht, level 18 Elven fighter, Health 410, Mana 220, Stamina 490, Disposition: Enmity. Disciples of Abrenacht are devout worshippers of the dark god Abrenacht. They are the rank and file soldiers of Taymo - the Red Heart Kingdom