The Wraith of Valenastrious: A LitRPG Epic (World of Samar Book 1)

by LitRPG Freaks

  “There have to be quests around here somewhere,” he muttered to himself.

  If they only centered quests around the main towns, what was the point of exploring the unknown? He only spoke with Dennis those few times, but it was enough to tell him he was not a man who stuck to a path. Other players might, but not Bishop.

  Sticks crunched underfoot and he took the time to admire the greenery around him, luring him into the illusion that he was really in the Horsen Forest at the edge of Samar. Each leaf was soft against his fingers and the ground so solid beneath his leather boots he let himself forget about anything happening in the real world. This was his world now and not even his fear over Paris Benson could reach him here.

  He walked beneath the canopy of trees, keeping to his eastern route, with his eyes and ears open for any sign of NPCs or other players. The woods were full of creatures, deer, birds with wingspans longer than he was tall, but all of them appeared friendlies.

  “Get it in there!” a harsh voice yelled, and Bishop sank to his knees in the mud, drawing his fingers back on his bow at the same time. “We need more if we want to appease the Hunter.”

  “Hunter?” Bishop poked his head up, yet he couldn’t see who spoke. He crouch-walked through the underbrush, keeping his head on a swivel as he searched for the baddies he was meant to attack. A rustling up ahead drew his gaze and he straightened a bit more. “Gotcha.”

  There, in a clearing, was a camp with makeshift raggedy tents and several large roughly constructed cages. The beings pacing around the camp all had life bars over their heads, a few bearing mana bars too, but all of them were named in red letters, levels ranging from 5 to 6. Orcs, nearly twenty of them, and from the look of it they were capturing white wolves and shoving them in the cages. The wolves snarled and fought against the orcs, but there were too many.

  Bishop leaned in closer, anger twisting his face as his heart hammered in his chest.

  He glanced back to the orcs and spotted a mark beside one of their names. Wondering if this was set up as many other games were, he targeted an orc set aside from the others. Thankfully, there was a range of agro, and pulling one orc would not alert the entire camp. He learned that when he attacked his first camp of imps back in Harborage.

  Bishop sucked in a breath and focused on his Swift Bow shot—two arrows fired simultaneously for massive damage. The hit struck the orc in the center of his chest, and his life bar dropped a third. With a roar, he turned towards Bishop and charged wielding his jagged sword over his head.

  “Shit!” Bishop staggered backwards, drawing on Triple Barbed Arrow.

  The shot hit the orc, and his life bar steadily decreased as the hit drained his life, but the enemy charged forward still.

  Bishop drew back the bow again. He ducked under the swinging orc’s sword, spun on his knees, and he shot the orc in the back of the head with Execute.

  The orc staggered, then collapsed face first into the mud. XP points exploded around Bishop, money clanked into his pouch, and a few items went into his bags.

  You have received: White Wolf Claw. Offers Quest.

  Bishop tapped the icon to start the first quest: killing twenty orcs in Horsen Forest. The second came from the wolf claw.

  “Interesting.”

  He read through the quest and drew out the claw. It came from the white wolves, a rare and sacred breed to the locals of the town he was heading to. The reward for freeing them from their cages was a substantial amount of rep and a fantastic new chest piece that would boost his agility by ten points.

  Bishop tucked the claw away, steadied his breathing and, with a wicked grin, stalked around the camp of orcs.

  He wanted to level quickly to ten. The abilities he would have access to then would allow him to choose the path of a Sniper Hunter with stronger attacks. Finishing these two quests might be enough to push him to level 5. Halfway there.

  He aimed his bow at his first target, a large orc brute by the first cage, and fired Triple Barbed Arrow. The orc roared, enraged, and charged as a special attack. Bishop barely jumped out of the way in time before he had to use his bow to block a hit from the orc. His health lost a fourth and, as the orc continued to press down, his life decreased even more.

  The bow creaked under the hit and Bishop feared it would break under the weight, but the bone held strong and he managed to use his dagger and launch Swipe Attack.

  The orc flew back, holding his middle, and charged again. This time, Bishop was ready for it. He slid out of the way and shot three quick Instant Shots at the orc’s back, killing it. The beast grunted one final time before it stilled.

  You have received: Ornate Cage Key. Good for one use.

  Bishop turned his attention to the cage while his life slowly climbed back up, debating if he needed to use a health potion. Three wolves were inside the cage, and he checked his bag to see the key dropped in there from the orc. He tapped it and touched the lock, springing it open to let the wolves free. The animals yipped and howled at him, sprinting off into the trees.

  Bishop found his next target and proceeded to unleash hell upon the camp. He hit his twenty dead orcs, nearly dying twice in the process. His bow needed major repairing as did his cloak and gloves, but he was still alive and he was proud of himself for that.

  He used the final key he received from the twentieth orc to open the last cage and free the wolves. Four of them ran out but the fifth, larger than the rest, stepped out slowly and, throwing its head back, howled long and loud at Bishop. The sound reverberated down to his very bones and his mouth gaped at the massive beast before him.

  The quest blinked before him and he glanced at it, confused. Had he missed something? Thinking he had to wait until he reached town to turn it in, he tapped it. The large wolf was in fact the leader of the pack and, as reward for killing the orcs and saving his kin, he offered Bishop a companion.

  “A pet?” Bishop stared at the white wolf and blinked a few times. “What does this companion do?” Another window popped up in answer to his question. “Ah, so they do fight alongside players. Yes please!” He accepted the reward from the wolf, and it shrunk in size, though not by much, and yipped excitedly at Bishop. “You’re my companion, eh?”

  He clicked on the wolf’s life bar, and an option popped up to type in a name. Bishop glanced at the wolf as it bounced around on all four paws, ears flickering every which way.

  For some reason he thought of his son and typed in the name: Willy.

  “There, what do you think, Willy?”

  The wolf howled, rose up to place its front paws on Bishop’s shoulders, and licked the half-breed across the face. Bishop laughed, scratching the great beast behind the ears. The wolf yipped again, and a new quest icon appeared. Bishop tapped it. It was a quest to track down and kill that Hunter figure.

  “First big target. Guess we go find him. Let’s get moving before the orcs respawn.”

  Bishop watched the last dead body vanish and knew, soon enough, the orcs would be back again to fill the camp and capture the wolves.

  The possible locations for this Hunter showed up on his map and he set out for the first one, still heading east, Willy at his side. The wolf had different stances and attack modes Bishop played with as they walked.

  The first area revealed nothing, except for a large pile of rocks. The second led them to a cave empty of any live enemies. There were several skeletons, which Bishop looted for coin. Willy picked up what appeared to be a femur and carried it with him from the cave, bounding happily through the tall grass. Bishop laughed until his sides ached and they neared the third and final location. If not for Willy, he would’ve stumbled right into the camp without even realizing it. Suddenly, the wolf dropped the bone and snarled, his hackles rising, and he bared his fangs. Bishop froze and peered through the trees in front of him.

  Hanging from roughly hewn posts were pelts of white wolves. And at the top of the poles were their heads, eyes eaten away and tongues lolling out of the side of their mo
uths.

  Willy pawed at the ground, digging his claws in hard. Bishop rested his hand on the wolf’s back to try and calm him, all the while searching for the Hunter.

  A fire burned beneath a large pot in the center, and a hut stood behind it. Bishop was wondering if someone else had come by recently and killed him when a rustling sound drew his attention. There, carrying a dripping wet skin up from behind the hut, was a massive orc twice the size of those Bishop had offed,.

  “Really?”

  Bishop hung his head upon discovering the knives around the Hunter’s name icon and his level. He was only an eight, but those knives meant he was going to be a hell of a lot harder to kill on his own.

  Bishop considered backing off and finding another player to team up with. His gear was already damaged and he was on his last health potion. But what if that Hunter dropped some crazy loot?

  Hesitating, he looked at Willy, standing strong by his side.

  “Why not? Made it to level 5 without dying,” he muttered to himself. “It was a good run. Come on, Willy. Let’s kill us an orc!”

  Willy growled in agreement and waited for his cue. Bishop drew back Triple Barbed Arrow, so he could start a life drain, blew out a steady breath, and aimed for the orc’s chest. He counted to a beat of three and loosed his arrow.

  The hit struck the orc who roared in rage, his health barely taking a dent. Willy charged in and leapt at the orc as Bishop drew back Swift Bow shot, loosing it the second he could.

  The hit did more damage this time. Still, the orc was over half health. Willy bit and clawed at the monster; however, Bishop was drawing more agro and the Hunter charged towards him.

  He drew his dagger at the last second, swiping at the orc, but even that blow was pointless. Bishop staggered back, unable to block the attack aiming at him. He yelled as he flew backwards into the trees, landing with a hard thud. His life went to half and he scrambled to get to his feet again as Willy threw himself at the orc’s back giving Bishop a chance to fire back. Three Instant Shots were released, while he waited for his Swift Bow cooldown timer to go off.

  “You are the fool who freed my wolves!” the orc growled as he threw Willy from his back. “You will pay for this! Your head will join theirs on a pike!”

  With a beastly roar, he swung his jagged sword wide and caught Bishop in the arm. The pinch of pain startled Bishop, but the half-breed managed to draw back for his attack and he threw the orc off balance.

  With his life draining from the last hit, Bishop’s body wavered, and he struggled to stay focused on pressing the attack. Although the Hunter had been weakened with help of Willy, Bishop doubted he would live to end this fight.

  The orc lumbered towards him, raising his sword arm for the killing blow. Bishop lifted his bow and fired Poisoned Arrow, another bleed to drain away the orc’s life, and another Instant Shot as Willy slowed the orc’s approach.

  With his last bit of strength, his life teetering right on the edge, Bishop drew back his Execute Shot and fired with a yell. The arrow exploded against the orc’s chest and the monster’s massive body froze, eyes wide in shock.

  The blade fell from his hand and he crashed to his knees.

  “Impossible,” he gasped. “I curse you, Bishop! I curse you!” He gagged on his blood and fell over to his side.

  “Yeah, well I’m the one who’s still alive, sucker,” Bishop grunted, as the orc let out one final snarl and died.

  Bishop sighed and fell back into the grass as Willy trotted over and sat obediently beside him. XP points exploded, getting him nearly halfway to level 6. Multiple prompts flashed overhead and he scanned through each one.

  You have received: Hunter’s Head, trophy piece. Turn into a taxidermist to keep.

  You have received: Pelt of the Dead Cloak. Armor +3. Agility +4. Vitality +2. Intelligence +2.

  You have received: Boots of Orc Hide. Armor +5. Strength +5. Agility +2.

  “Eh, not too bad,” he muttered, swiping away the messages and letting his arms fall to his sides, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. “That was one hell of a fight, Willy.”

  The wolf bowed his head as if to agree. Bishop lay in the grass for a while, his health slowly reaching its max once again before he figured moving would be a good idea. The Hunter could return at any second, and he was not ready to go through another fight that intense so soon.

  Bishop rolled over and pushed himself up, taking off at a steady run to get far away from the campsite. Once in a safe place, he sat down on a boulder and switched out his old gear for the new pieces he picked up. The boots were a dark greenish brown, an ugly color really, but the tops folded down and there were large buckles on the sides that looked to be made out of orc tusks. The cloak was fur lined with soft leather on the outside. A wolf’s head was decaled on the leather, and he traced his fingers over it before going into the display tab to remove it from view. He never was one for cloaks and helms.

  “And a head,” he muttered, clicking on the item, and holding up the decapitated orc head. “Wonderful. Guess I’ll get this stuffed and hold onto it for now.”

  He was curious if he would be able to purchase a home in a neighborhood, but so far saw no one offering to sell him real estate. A house was always nice, a safe haven from the rest of the game and extra storage. He hadn’t picked up a craft yet either. He decided it all had to be in the main capital for the heroes, not that he knew what he wanted to craft anyway. Being able to make his own gear or a bow would be nice, but crafting could be tedious at times.

  “Alright, Willy, let’s get a move on,” he said after slinging his bow over his body. “Want to reach town before night falls.”

  The sky was darkening overhead and, when he pulled up the map, he saw they weren’t too far off course from reaching the next town. If they walked in a northern angle, they would run into the main road and right into town, but there could be other players on the road and Bishop enjoyed the quiet calm of the forest around him. Plus, after finding that orc camp giving him three major quests, he wasn’t about to head back to the road in case there were more the woods had to offer.

  Sadly though, they didn’t run into any other orc camps or baddies by the time their path dumped them at the outskirts of a village riddled with wooden huts and a stable. No chance to pick up a craft here either, not that crafting had been his main concern in this game. The amount of gold earned from killing the orcs and the Hunter gave Bishop enough to purchase a mount, so that was his first stop. The stable master’s eyes widened at the sight of Bishop, but he relaxed when he saw the white wolf at his side.

  “Impressive,” the NPC said, and Bishop paused.

  “What is? The wolf?” He hadn’t even turned in the rest of the wolf quest to the village elder, but the NPCs around him all stopped and stared at the wolf. “I saved him and his pack from orcs,” Bishop replied slowly.

  “The white wolves of Horsen do not choose any warrior lightly,” the stable master explained. “You have done their kind and my people a great service.” Bishop watched a message flutter in front of his eyes showing his rep increase with the Horsen people and the price of his mount dropped dramatically. “Which mount would you like to purchase?”

  The rep in this game was definitely unlike any he was used to playing, and a strange sense of pride grew in his chest spreading outwards as each villager acknowledged him and Willy as they passed.

  “Right, mount. The black stallion if you please,” he said, changing his mind at the last second. He couldn’t afford this one before but, with the discount, the midnight-colored stallion with a mane and tail of silver could be his.

  The stable master took the money, and a new skill appeared in Bishop’s archives. “Remember, you can use stables as ways to get to other discovered travel locations.”

  “Thanks,” Bishop said, and he brought up the mount option. “A whistle, right.”

  He placed his fingers in his mouth and blew hard. The whistle hung in the air. Hot breath puffed at the ba
ck of his neck and he spun around to see the stallion standing tall and proud behind him, stamping his hoof in the dirt.

  “Wow.” Bishop reached out a tentative hand and ran it down the stallion’s neck. “Reaper, huh? I think I’ll let you keep that name.” Reaper whinnied in response and Willy sniffed the stallion curiously.

  Bishop pulled up his quest tracker and sought out the man collecting bounties on dead orcs and the town elder. The wolf quest plus the orcs and the Hunter were enough XP for Bishop to hit level 7 with plenty to spare, pushing him closer to 8. He was one step closer to reaching level 10.

  He found an armorer nearby, repaired his gear, sold what he didn’t need from his bags, and looked around for Tavin. He tugged at his repaired black gloves, missing the original ones he had when starting the game, and drew his hood up over his hair as rain sprinkled from the sky, cold and wet.

  “Reaper, think I’m going to tuck you away for now,” he said, and whistled again. Reaper faded steadily from view until only Willy stood beside Bishop, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

  Bishop laughed, then followed the arrows at his feet to a tavern. He stepped inside to a loud raucous of excited voices that were clearly not NPCs. Tossing back his hood and shaking out his hair, Bishop smiled politely at the other players as he weaved his way around tables and chairs to reach Tavin sitting in the back corner. A few other players stood around her, and he patiently waited for them to finish before having his turn.

  “Man, where the hell did you get a wolf?” one of the players asked loudly.

  “How are you already level 7?” another exclaimed. “Man I told you we missed something back there!”

  Curious as to why his level was that big of a deal, Bishop looked at their levels and clutched his bow tighter. Three levels. He was three levels ahead of these players. “Where did you guys start?” he asked, wondering if this was actually the starting area for another race.

  “Harborage,” the one Bishop assumed was a priest said, judging by his staff and robes.