The Alchemy Worlds: Enter T(he)rap(y): A LitRPG Adventure

by Victor Justice

  Item Description: Cuirass of Swashbuckler’s Defence

  Quality 50

  Durability 70/70

  Weight 8 tkulls (Sumarren unit of weight)

  Item Type: Armour (enchanted)

  Information: Crafted by the slaughtersmiths of the Jade Coast, Cuirasses of Swashbuckler’s Defence are enchanted pieces of armour favoured by the pirates serving under the notorious Captain Tigerdrake. Each cuirass made by the slaughtersmiths is infused with the dark sorceries of the Kraken Prince increasing the wearer’s defence stats by 15 points and their willpower stats by 5 points respectively, making them able to take more damage during physical fights and increase their resistance to weaker level manipulation spells.

  Matias nodded his approval as the message faded away. “Hell of a lot better than a stinky old robe,” he said. “Thanks very much, Amy.”

  He examined the cuirass further, and was just itching to try it on. As he fitted it over his torso, he suddenly felt eyes watching him and spun round. There was no one there. Still, he had the sense he was being watched and that invisible onlooker somehow disapproved of his behaviour. He thought about Lady Alder and his unease grew, but he kept on strapping the cuirass to his body nonetheless. If he was going to survive in this world, he needed armour, and this gave him a better chance of surviving battles than just his robe. It fitted pretty well, and he found himself feeling a surge of power and confidence. He looked cool, no doubt about it. He imagined the look on the faces of Jhondey and the others when he would get back, and he grinned to himself. The unseen eyes turned their gaze away from him.

  He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Discovering the cuirass gave him the confidence of finding a decent weapon as well. Hunting through the garbage and debris, he came to a small alcove at the back of the cavern. It was piled with straw and looked to be where Zxra’kkv slept. His eyes flicked over it in distaste and he spotted the corner of a squat wooden chest poking out of the straw. He bent down and grabbed one of its handles, pulling it out of the straw and onto the rock floor.

  It was locked when he tried it. The chest was so old and rickety though, with a large gap between the lid and its body, that it was a simple matter to wedge the end of his staff into the gap and force it open.

  Kneeling down, he peered into it to see what he could steal. There was a coarse woollen shirt and a pair of fur covered trousers that looked in pretty good condition. He decided to keep them. Setting them out on the floor, he glanced through the information messages that came up about them:

  Item Description: Shirt

  Quality 7

  Durability 9/16

  Weight 0.9 tkulls (Sumarren unit of weight)

  Item Type: Clothing

  Information: Simple woollen shirt typically worn by peasants and labourers.

  Item Description: Fur trousers

  Quality 6

  Durability 12/14

  Weight 0.17 tkulls (Sumarren unit of weight)

  Item Type: Clothing

  Information: Sturdy bear fur trousers favoured in colder climes. Warm and thick, suitable for travelling in the northern lands and sleeping in the outdoors.

  Matias paused and slipped off his cuirass, and then dressed in the shirt and trousers before putting the cuirass back on top. This was a more suitable outfit. All he needed was some decent footwear so he could dump the lame sandals. He noticed his robe lying near the fire pit where he’d discarded it when he was drying himself off and was tempted to throw it into the fire. That feeling of disapproving eyes watching him came back again and made his skin prickle. So, he chose instead to bundle it up and put it in his rucksack which had also now dried out by the fire. When he was done, he padded back to the chest to see if there were any more goodies worth having.

  His eyes lit up when he took out the sleek looking arm bracer which was fitted with a slender stiletto blade. He strapped it to his right arm and worked out how to flick the deadly blade out beneath his wrist.

  He read the information message with great interest when it came up:

  Item Description: Stiletto Sleeve

  Quality 30

  Durability 25/25

  Weight: 0.4 tkulls (Sumarren unit of weight)

  Item Type: Weapon (mundane)

  Description: A favourite of the Genteel Assassins of the Velvet Republic, the stiletto sleeve is a vicious concealed weapon which can slash open a throat with just a flick of the wrist. Use your thumb to activate the pressure plate on the bracer to retract the blade when you’re done being a sneaky murderer. Tell me, Matias, how do you sleep at night?

  “Cute, Amy,” Matias said to himself. A weapon like this was going to be useful, and he wasn’t going to be guilt-tripped out of keeping on to it. He needed to survive in this crazy computer world by any means necessary. He pulled his sleeve over the secret weapon and took out the rolled up scroll which was the only thing left inside the chest.

  Opening it out, he found that strange spidery writing was sprawled over one side, written in a language he didn’t understand. The letters were written in silver ink which seemed to ripple and pulsate on the surface of the parchment. Looking at the words too long made him nauseous and he quickly rolled up the scroll again. He was about to dump it back in the chest when a message popped up:

  Quest item: A missive written in a mysterious script. Might be worth holding onto, maybe Sour Root could translate it for you?

  “Okay,” Matias said, “I’ll hold onto it.”

  He needed to have a word with Sour Root anyway. Getting to his feet, he made ready to leave the vile cavern and get back to Ironthorne. As he did so, another welcome message popped up:

  Quest Completed: The Cavern of the Gargoyle

  You have successfully looted the cavern and killed the gargoyle.

  Experience points gained: 150

  Congratulations you are now at Level 2.

  You now have four points to distribute amongst your stats via the Sacred Shrine.

  “Four points,” Matias grumbled. “Don’t be too generous now.”

  He pulled up his sleeve where his tattoo was and touched it. His surroundings blurred, becoming the marble temple Amy had introduced him to in the Healer’s Hovel. This time though, the light was dimmer and there were black streaks running through the marble walls. Matias shrugged off the changes and accessed his stat screen. Four points to spend, he thought to himself. Without hesitation he used them all to take his strength stats up to 9. It wasn’t much but it was a start. And now that he had his cuirass and stiletto sleeve, he was no longer feeling as much of a defenceless wuss anymore.

  Exiting the Shrine, he retrieved his staff and made his way across the bridge. He had a score to settle with Opon and, druid or not, he was not going to restrain himself when he got his hands round the thug’s scrawny little neck. He had questions as well that needed answering. Whoever had cooked up this little plan was going to learn the hard way that Matias was not easy to get rid of.

  Chapter XIII: Councils and Counterplots

  Matias literally strutted up to the gates of Ironthorne as he made the return journey from the gargoyle’s lair. The hours he had spent down in the cavern complex had turned the morning into late evening, and torches had been lit to ward off the encroaching dark. He caused quite a stir amongst the guards on the palisade wall therefore when he emerged from the gloom, and one of them almost put an arrow in his chest before another recognised him and intervened.

  The gate was opened and he passed into the village, while two of the guards ran ahead to tell Jaggen that he had returned. It wasn’t long before Jhondey was scampering out of the great hall to meet him.

  “Matias! Matias! Where have you been! What’s wrong with your face? What are you wearing?” The boy’s eyes were on stalks as he stared at the elegantly crafted cuirass Matias was clad in, and his hand reached out to touch the tiger face on the breastplate.

  “No messing,” Matias warned, swatting his hand aw
ay. “I don’t want your grubby paws all over my gear.” He frowned. “Wait? What do you mean what’s wrong with my face?”

  “Where did you get it from?” Jhondey stared at the armour in awe, ignoring his question. “It’s so beautiful!” If Matias left him, he was sure the boy would start licking it.

  “Matias!” Sour Root’s voice bellowed as the Sasquatch hobbled over from the medicine lodge. His eyes widened as he took in Matias’ outfit. “You have been in Zxra’kkv’s cavern!” he exclaimed.

  “How do you know where I’ve been?” Matias retorted, suspiciously. “Were you in on this with Opon?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know a gargoyle gas attack when I see one. You look horrendous.”

  Matias stared at him in alarm. “What? How do I look?”

  Sour Root snorted into his beard. “Jhondey, go and fetch my looking glass.”

  Jhondey was still staring at the cuirass, lost in his own little world. Sour Root whacked him on the back of the leg with one of his walking crutches. “Jhondey! Looking glass, boy!”

  “I’m going, I’m going,” griped the boy, and he scampered off in the direction of the medicine lodge.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do,” Sour Root said to Matias. “What was the idea of going snooping around Zxra’kkv’s den? You’re lucky to be alive. If you bring the gargoyle’s wrath down onto the village, Jaggen will make you pay dearly for it.”

  “You don’t need to worry about the gargoyle,” Matias said with an evil smile. “Zxra’kkv won’t be bothering anyone ever again.”

  Sour Root was dumbstruck. “You killed him?”

  “You’re surprised? You thought he could take me down. Is that why you got Opon to lure me into the cavern?”

  “I didn’t get Opon to lure you anywhere,” Sour Root retorted, a baffled look on his face. “In fact, Opon’s also missing. What in the name of the Great Spirits are you talking about?”

  The old creature seemed genuinely at a loss, and Matias sensed he was on the level. He suddenly remembered the scroll and the game message that had come up when he’d picked it up. “Here,” he said, slipping his rucksack off his shoulder and rummaging through it. “You might be able to make sense of this. I found it in Zxra’kkv’s belongings.”

  Sour Root took the scroll and opened it, scrutinising it in the fading light. While he read it, Jhondey returned with the looking glass. Matias snatched it from him and stared into it. A dagger of ice went through his heart and he had to stop himself from crying out. His face was now as grey as ash and his eyes bloodshot, with black veins branching out like tree roots around them. His lips had darkened to a deep crimson as well and looked almost black. He stared at the ghoulish face in horror.

  “What the hell happened to me?” he yelled at Sour Root.

  The Sasquatch was engrossed by the scroll. Matias grabbed his arm and shook him. “What’s happened to me?”

  “Huh?” Sour Root snapped his head up. “What?”

  “Look at me!” Matias’ voice broke under the strain. “What’s wrong with my skin?”

  “I told you, it’s the effect of gargoyle gas,” Sour Root said, irritably. “It’s a defence mechanism they possess. If you’d have asked me first, I would have warned you about it before you went strutting off to face him. Halfwit!”

  Matias threw the mirror onto the ground in frustration. “Can it be reversed? I can’t look like this!” He was shouting now and he was about to grab Sour Root again when he was engulfed by a savage coughing fit.

  “I’d calm down if I were you,” Sour Root replied, turning back to the scroll. “Agitation makes the condition worse. I’ll see if I have any potions or salves to ease the discomfort when I’ve discussed this scroll with Jaggen.”

  “You got to help me now,” Matias croaked, surfacing from his fit. “There’s got to be a cure, right?”

  Jhondey rushed forward and rubbed his back. Matias shrugged him off. “You got to help me!” he snapped to Sour Root again.

  “Later, later,” Sour Root said, still looking at the scroll. “Matias, do you have any idea what you have got here?”

  “Uh oh, here comes pa,” Jhondey said. “He don’t look happy.”

  Matias glared over to Jaggen as he stalked towards them. At his side was Krumer, all dressed in black. He put Matias in mind of a huge buzzard.

  “Matias! What is going on? Where have you been?” Jaggen demanded in a gruff voice. He paused when he took a proper look at the young man’s face. “By the Forest Powers, what have you got yourself into?”

  “He’s killed the gargoyle!” Jhondey declared in an excited voice. “He went straight into his stinky cavern and ripped out his heart! He’s a champion!”

  “He looks like a demon,” Jaggen muttered. “The fool’s lucky to be alive. What possessed you to go down there in the first place?”

  Matias was about to tell him about Opon’s proposition but he saw Krumer watching him intently. Though Sour Root might not have had anything to do with Opon’s trap, Krumer was a different story, and Matias realised it wouldn’t be a smart move to accuse the second most powerful man in the village of attempted murder.

  “I got bored mushing up bugs for Sour Root’s potions all day long,” he replied. “I needed some excitement.”

  “You certainly got it,” Jaggen said. A sizable crowd had begun to gather as news of Matias’ return spread. Matias saw Mardon and Trub looking shifty near the back of the onlookers and made a mental note to have a little conversation with them.

  “Jaggen, we must talk,” Sour Root said, hobbling forward clutching the scroll in his hand. “Matias has brought us something of immense importance. I will translate this scroll to you, and we also need to hear his story, tonight.”

  “As you wish,” Jaggen said, a little perplexed. He looked round at the other villagers and scowled. “Back to your homes!” he thundered. “The excitement is over. To bed now, you have work in the morning.”

  Murmuring to themselves, the crowd dispersed and drifted back to their dwellings. Jaggen gestured to Sour Root. “Come, we’ll talk in my office.”

  When Matias made to follow them, Jaggen raised his hand. “Not you. Get that stuff off and get yourself washed with the water pump. You smell like a latrine. Come to my office when you’re a little more fragrant.”

  “I’ll clean your armour for you, Matias,” Jhondey said eagerly. “While you’re getting washed you can tell me how you killed the gargoyle. Did you smash out his brains? What colour were they? Was there lots of blood? Did you stab him through the throat? Do gargoyles have brains? What colour were they? Matias? Don’t walk so fast, I can’t keep up. Matias, can I polish your tiger? Did the gargoyle scream? What does a gargoyle scream sound like? Does it sound like this? Matias, are you in pain again? Why you hitting your head like that? Are you dying? Can I have your cuirass if you die?”

  * * *

  Roughly thirty minutes later, a cleaner Matias headed over to the great hall to speak to Jaggen and the others. He was now dressed in a freshly laundered tunic and woollen trousers cut off at the knee which belonged to Jhondey. The kid had prattled on and on as Matias washed off the muck and smell of the cavern of his now pallid body, and the only way he had managed to stop his tongue wagging was to let him clean up the cuirass and guard it with his life.

  He had left the kid in the medicine lodge with his new equipment and promised to something unspeakable to him if he even thought about trying the cuirass on. His new fearsome features must have given the threat leverage because Jhondey looked absolutely terrified and swore he wouldn’t lay a finger on it. Despite his anger and fear at the physical changes he’d undergone after the gas attack, Matias felt a thrill of power at seeing the fear he had caused. Scared people were easier to control.

  He entered Jaggen’s office without knocking and found the old man, Krumer, Grad and Sour Root huddled round the desk with the scroll laid out in front of them. Th
ey all looked up, and Matias noticed the uneasy looks Jaggen, Krumer and Grad gave him. He smiled coldly.

  “Okay, I’m washed up,” Matias said. “You gonna tell me what’s so important about this scroll then?”

  “Pull up a chair and sit down,” Jaggen growled, nodding to the empty chair in the corner. “What you’ve found is of the utmost importance.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” Matias said, picking up the chair and setting it down next to Sour Root. “Do I get a reward?”

  “I think Zxra’kkv gave you more than enough to be getting on with,” Jaggen replied, blank-faced.

  Krumer let out a nasty laugh and Matias remembered what Opon had said about how Krumer knew the way through the gargoyle’s cavern. He eyed him hard as he sat down and the scar-faced man eventually looked away.

  Jaggen sat back in his chair and took a sip from a goblet of wine. “Tell us first how you ended up in Zxra’kkv’s den. What possessed you to even go looking for him in the first place?”

  “I didn’t go looking, I got invited,” Matias replied.

  “By Opon?” Sour Root supplied.

  Matias nodded. He decided to tell them the whole truth now and see what happened. “I found him caught in one of Jhondey’s hunting snares when I went to collect your stupid flowers. I cut him down and he told me he was clearing out of Ironthorne for good. Before he went though, he was going to raid the gargoyle’s cavern for anything worth stealing. We went together to share the spoils and take down the gargoyle if he attacked us.”

  “Where’s Opon now?” Grad asked, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes were drooping and he looked hung over.

  Matias shrugged. “No idea. We got down there and he suddenly turned on me. There’s an underground pool next to where Zxra’kkv lived and he pushed me into it while he made a run for it. The gargoyle came after me while I’m guessing he headed back to the surface. If he’s got any sense, he’ll be miles away by now, because if I ever catch up with him he’ll wish the gargoyle had killed him.”