Limitless Lands Book 3: Retribution (A LitRPG Adventure)

by Dean Henegar

  “You’ll see, Sskrix, these gladiators are different from my usual mix. These are soldiers of the Imperium. Brave warriors disgraced by their acts, but highly trained and willing to fight,” Septimus said as he pulled next to our wagon. Accompanying him was a bizarre sight. What looked like a six-foot-tall cobra with arms peered into the cage. The creature was clothed in an ornate robe reinforced with bits of armor. Its hands held a long iron halberd, the tip and axe blade of the weapon gleaming. A leather strap crossed in front of the creature and held various implements; I spotted a long-curved dagger, a short sword, and a half dozen throwing knives. The creature’s forked tongue flickered toward me to add my scent and taste to what it was seeing. Focusing on the creature, the AI revealed a few details.

  Sskrix, Ssarn War Leader, Level 12, Npc. The Ssarn are a race of intelligent, humanoid serpents that are most commonly found in desert climes. The Ssarn are warlike and revel in testing their strength against other foes, consuming those they defeat that are deemed worthy of the “honor” of feeding a stronger warrior. The race is untrusting of outsiders and considers other humanoids as nothing more than another food source.

  “Doesss not looks strong. You trickss me, Septimus, and I will feed you to the younglingss,” Sskrix hissed as he considered us. I was never one of those people who were afraid of snakes, and this guy didn’t seem too terrifying to me. From what the AI told me about their race, they appeared to respect strength. Sitting timid in my chains would never impress a Ssarn.

  “Put me and my men up against your best and you’ll see how strong we are,” I growled at the snake man, rattling my chains and lunging in his direction. To his credit Sskrix didn’t flinch in the slightest. The creature let out a long hiss before turning to Septimus. I was worried for a moment that the hiss meant it was angry with my antics.

  “Thiss one has spirit. He will serve to test the worthiness of our yearlings. Gather them together and we will have them take the tessst of strength. Our yearlings will compete against them. Should your weak humans live they can test their mettle against Rictuz. Should they prove successful, you will have what you assk for,” Sskrix said before slithering off.

  The wagons began to move once again, following a trail in the sand that barely held the weight of our wagons. If we hadn’t been guided by Sskrix, our wagons would have become hopelessly stuck in the sand. We traveled longer than normal, stopping just as darkness fell.

  Septimus looked relieved as he approached our cage. “Well done, Raytak. I think Sskrix likes you. I’m sure you’ll be the best of friends before our visit is complete. Now, what he was referring to earlier was a little gladiatorial match we have arranged to acquire the food and supplies we need to continue our journey. Defeat their yearling warriors and then face what I think is their champion. No problem, right?” Septimus asked, not pausing for an answer before he continued. “I’ll leave you to it. Galba will equip you with the best weapons we have before the fight begins.”

  With that, Septimus trotted off to his plush wagon. A Ssarn servant brought food to Septimus as the rest of us, guards included, made do with the last of the unspoiled rations. The rations were on the verge of going bad, having spent too much time near the other rotting food. We ate what was provided, despite the somewhat off taste of the dried meats and hard tasteless crackers we were given.

  After we had eaten, Galba led a group of guards to escort me toward the supply wagons. Inside was a hodgepodge of weapons. We dug through the mix searching for any gear that resembled the weapons soldiers of the Imperium were familiar with. I had Galba fetch Wrend, and between the two of us we found enough decent gear to equip our two squads for the fights awaiting us in the morning. Sometime before his hurried escape, Septimus must have scoured the town in order to find the collection in front of us.

  Worn Imperium Gladius: Popular with mercenary bands, guard forces, and those with limited budgets. These surplus swords are near the end of their useful life but will still hold an edge for the immediate future. Item-level 10.

  Battered Surplus Scutum Shield: These military surplus wooden shields have seen better days but will still serve to turn an opponent’s blade. Defense +1, additional +1 vs. ranged attacks.

  Rejected Surplus Javelin: These throwing javelins were rejected for use by the military and found their way into other hands. The weapons are slightly warped but will still deliver the same damage. -1 to ranged attacks with this weapon. Item-level 5.

  Crude Knife: Basic blade used for a backup weapon or a dining utensil. Item-level 5.

  “That looks like the best of the lot, sir. Still no armor though,” Wrend said as we found the last few serviceable weapons.

  “It will have to do, Wrend. Sounds like we’re up against their young warriors so I think we’ll have a good chance. Galba, do you know anything about these creatures? What can we expect tomorrow?” I asked.

  “These Ssarn are tough. Their warriors work together well, and some have been known to have a ranged venom attack. Keep on your toes if their heads rear back, that means they’re about to spit venom. The yearlings are not going to be as highly trained as adult warriors and are trying to prove themselves to the tribe. They may be susceptible to taunting or goading into hasty attacks. The creatures are fast over the sand with their snake-like movements and will try to flank or surround you if they have superior numbers,” Galba advised.

  “Thank you, doctore,” I responded, using Galba’s honorific title to show appreciation for the information he had given. After we finished with selecting our weapons, Galba set them aside and locked the supply wagon. There was no way we were going to get our hands on the weapons before our fight. The rest of the men slept as I spent the night contemplating different tactics and what the fighting style of our foes might be.

  Morning came soon enough, and Galba came around to rouse the soldiers.

  “Wake up, you lot. Time to earn your keep. There’s nothing for breakfast so drink as much water as you want and follow me to gear up for the fight,” Galba snapped; the doctore was not a morning person. The newly minted soldiers grumbled as they followed Galba, so I felt slightly relieved; the only time to worry about a soldier is when they stop grumbling. In the light of day, I finally got a good look at where we had stopped last night.

  We were in a large canyon, reddish stone walls rising to either side. The canyon walls were lined with small cave openings and I noticed movement all along the canyon. As I watched, several of the Ssarn were slithering from the holes and resting on the stone, waiting for the heat of the sun to warm up their cold blood. Most of the Ssarn were smaller than war leader Sskrix, all but a few lacking the cobra hood alongside their heads. Curious, I risked asking Galba if he knew the reasons for the differences in appearance.

  “Galba, what gives with some of these Ssarn having a hood like a cobra? Are they two different races, or is there some other reason?” I asked.

  “Nobody knows for sure. Not too many people ever see these creatures, let alone chit-chat with them about their physical features. From what I can tell, the ones with the hoods run the show here. I’ve only been here once before with Septimus and we barely made it out with our lives,” Galba answered. Galba then unlocked the supply wagon and began to hand our weapons to the guards who would carry them until we were just about to fight. Most of Septimus’ guard force escorted us toward the center of the canyon where five crude pits had been dug. Each of the pits were roughly the size of the small arena we had fought in earlier at Asif’s.

  A large escort of Ssarn warriors met us, pushing aside our guards and leading us themselves. Galba didn’t argue with the Ssarn, and I could see the nervousness in his face. I was a bit anxious myself but knew better than to display any fear or nervousness in front of these creatures. We passed the first of the pits. Glancing inside, I could see they were dug deep—too deep to climb out of without assistance. The first pit was filled with eggs, many recently hatched. Tiny newborn Ssarn explored the pit, consuming each other occasio
nally. There were also several large scorpions that had been placed in the pit as well; the large insects killed and consumed any of the new hatchlings that ventured too close to them. The Ssarn guiding us saw my curiosity and spoke in its hissing style of speech.

  “Thessse hatchlings musst learn to be strong. We do not protect and coddle our young like you hairy monkeys do with yours. Ssstrength must be learned early. Conquer or be consumed is our way,” the creature said, its tongue occasionally flicking out as it spoke.

  The second pit had a group of somewhat older Ssarn, each about two feet tall. The young were training with weapons and sparring with each other. They were aggressive, but the instructors kept them from inflicting too much harm. Even the Ssarn couldn’t let too many of their young perish in training. We were stopped at the third pit and unceremoniously shoved to or knees. Our guards were allowed forward and the Ssarn handed them three crude ladders which the guards dropped into the pit.

  “Down you go, lads. Good luck in there,” Galba advised as I led the soldiers down the rickety ladders. It wasn’t until I was climbing on them that I noticed the rungs of the ladders were made from the bones of some creature. The floor of the pit was soft sand, which would make our movements slow and difficult. It was at this time our foes appeared and I received quest prompt.

  Quest Updated: Retribution. Survive the fight against the Ssarn yearlings. Reward: 500 experience, supplies for the trip. Bonus of 10 experience per surviving soldier.

  Sskrix appeared at the edge of the pit, quickly followed by scores of other Ssarn. Septimus and Galba along with a smattering of the guard force stood above us. The ladders were hauled up as Sskrix spoke, his voice clear and audible, without the hissing inflection present earlier.

  “Today, my people, we have the pleasure of testing our yearlings against these humans,” Sskrix said with derision. “Our new warriors are brave and ready to prove themselves. I have decreed that they may consume the humans they kill this morning. In fact, should my warriors win, we will all consume the humans!” Sskrix added, his tongue flickering out as he regarded Septimus. Septimus turned white as a sheet as he motioned the guards to toss down our weapons. Once the gear dropped, I had the men quickly equip themselves and form into two ranks of ten men in each rank. I positioned myself behind the right side of the rear rank, with Wrend and the infiltrator on the opposite side.

  Just when we finished forming up, our foes appeared, and two dozen Ssarn slithered down the embankment. Having a serpent’s body and no legs, the Ssarn traversed the sand easily. We were going to be at a severe disadvantage during this fight if we had to move about. The Ssarn in front of us were smaller than the average warriors I had seen earlier, standing only five feet tall and possessing pale green scales. The fully-grown warriors had dark green scales, mixed with black patterns. Sskrix had golden colored scales with patterns of red scales forming what looked like eyes on his hood. The yearlings hissed and capered about, posturing in an attempt to intimidate us. The yearlings had a mix of weapons; the majority were equipped with a short spear and small round wooden shield. A few of the Ssarn held large falchions in their hands, and the oversized, curved swords looked dangerous. Two of the Ssarn held pairs of long daggers, while one sported only a wooden staff. Information on our foes filled my vision.

  Ssarn Yearling, Level 3 (16): Ssarn yearlings are well trained but untested. The creatures are vicious and love to feed on their foes.

  Ssarn Yearling Berserker, Level 3 (5): Ssarn berserkers often favor large, two-handed weapons, using their berserker rage to hack their opponents down.

  Ssarn Yearling Sandstalker, Level 3 (2): Ssarn sandstalkers are a type of rogue class, specializing in flanking attacks and poisoned weapons.

  Ssarn Yearling Sorcerer, Level 3: Few Ssarn sorcerers make it to maturity. Their small size usually ends in an early death within their brutal society. The few who survive to adulthood become powerful casters, their spells and abilities focused on supporting the warriors of the tribe.

  “Steady in the line, men. These things are just showing off. Mind your training and we’ll make short work of ‘em,” Wrend told the men.

  “Ready javelins!” I ordered. The men hefted the warped javelins, prepared to throw at my command. The Ssarn looked up to Sskrix who held a red cloth up in the air, with a hiss he dropped the cloth and the yearlings charged our line.

  “First rank, target the ones without shields. Release!” I yelled and the first rank threw their javelins before drawing swords and readying their shields. The wave of ten missiles wobbled toward the enemy, all but two missing. One of the javelins hit a berserker, causing it to hiss loudly and activate its rage early. The second javelin hit one of the yearlings, slicing off nearly half its health. From the damage done I could tell the Ssarn we were facing had a health pool similar to that of my regular soldiers.

  “Second rank, release! Sergeant Wrend, prepare to refuse the line with half of the second rank. Stand ready to receive charge,” I ordered. The second rank, along with the three of us behind them, all threw their javelins. We had better luck this time with a total of six hits on the rapidly closing snake like creatures. The attack broke up the Ssarn advance. Instead of an orderly attack, our foes came at us without thought of their fellows. The sandstalkers were the fastest, out in front of the rest, followed by the raging berserkers. The rest slithered forward in a gaggle, not attempting to form a shield wall or any other formation. The javelins from our second rank landed among the sandstalkers and berserkers, killing one sandstalker and leaving several of the berserkers injured to varying degrees.

  The remaining sandstalker hit our line, or I thought it did. Instead of hearing a clash of weapons, creature slithered under the legs of the soldier in front of it. The sandstalker rose up, stabbing its blades into the back of the soldier. The damage from the sneak attack and the poison coating the weapons killed the soldier. The sandstalker did not last long as three of the soldiers in the second rank buried their blades into the Ssarn before it could slither out of range. A soldier in the second rank quickly stepped forward and filled the gap just as the berserkers hit.

  The berserkers hit the line hard but failed to break through our shield wall. I activated Incite to give our men a bonus to attack, and a penalty to our foes. The newer recruits were a bit awkward in their attacks, but slowly fell into the rhythm of the training they had been receiving. The men covered themselves with their shields while stabbing at the foes to their right. The Ssarn were confused by the tactic, letting us land several easy hits and dropping most of the berserkers before the others arrived. The regular yearlings arrived last, several trying to use their superior mobility to get around our flanks.

  “Refuse flanks!” Wrend ordered. Three men on each end of the second rank moved out to extend our lines. The newly extended flanks slanted inward, creating a larger front for our foes to try and get around. Wanting to try my new ability, I felt now was as good a time as any. I activated Goon Squad and three prisoners appeared behind the Ssarn on our right flank. The prisoners wasted no time charging as fast as they could toward the nearest foe and stabbing away with makeshift knives. Their attacks weren’t very effective, but did serve to distract the Ssarn pushing our right flank. The Ssarn on the right turned to address the new threat behind them, allowing the men to land several more hits.

  While observing the goon squad, I didn’t notice several vipers appear at my feet, summoned by the sorcerer. The snakes attacked, quickly latching onto my calf and pumping venom into my body. I slashed down with my sword, killing the first. The second took two blows before it was cut in half, its head still attached and pumping venom with every passing second. I fumbled around a bit before finally prying the severed viper head from my calf muscle. Pain wracked my body as the poison did its work, the multiple bites providing a cumulative effect.

  You have been poisoned, 5 damage per second for the next ten seconds.

  Your poison damage taken has increased to 10 damage per second.
>
  Your poison damage taken has increased to 15 damage per second.

  I spotted the sorcerer about twenty feet from me in the midst of another cast. I raised my hand to use the ranged attack from Tessel’s promise, but just before I activated the magic, our infiltrator appeared out of nowhere behind the sorcerer. With a grin, the infiltrator stabbed his blade completely through the smaller sorcerer. The Ssarn flailed about, hissing in pain as the infiltrator worked the blade back and forth, opening a bleeding wound in the creature. The infiltrator made short work of the low health caster before moving on to find another target.

  The fight had now turned decidedly in our favor. The ferocity of our foes was no match for our disciplined fighting style. The last berserker fell, and the remaining six yearlings broke, fleeing toward their side of the pit. There was a pile of dead Ssarn in front of our main line. We weren’t without casualties though; five of our soldiers had been killed in the fighting and many others showed signs of wounds. I had the men reform into a single line, and we began to move slowly toward the last of our foes.

  Before we could close the distance to the remaining foes, Sskrix appeared above the wall and hissed loudly. The remining yearlings stopped and dipped their heads in shame. I halted our advance and waited to see what Sskrix would do. The Ssarn leader’s hood opened as wide as possible, the red scales shining with magical energy.

  “Stop! You humans have passed the first test, and these few have failed in their duty to the tribe,” Sskrix said while casting a disdainful glare down at the yearling survivors. “Now, these will face their punishment and you will face your final challenge. Look upon the desert demon Rictuz and dessspair!” With a cry, Sskrix unleashed the magical energy building in his scales.