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

by LitRPG Freaks

  “How the hell am I going to find anything here?”

  The city walls stretched high up into the sky, dominating the surrounding view and stretched for miles in either direction. The small town of Brookside was filled with players, most appeared to be human or elf, as well as NPCs, but none offered quests for Bishop, at least none that would give him XP. He was beyond that point.

  As the gate of the main city rose up before them, Maverick shifted back into her human form and Bishop dismissed Reaper. Willy whined and paced at his side.

  “You don’t want to go in there?” Bishop asked the wolf.

  “Are you talking to him?” Maverick tilted her head to the side watching the exchange. “Don’t think he understands you.”

  Willy snapped his jaws and growled at her.

  “Ok, maybe I’m wrong,” she muttered and held up her hand, palm out.

  “You don’t have to go in. I guess you’ll just come back when I leave the city?” Willy nudged his leg, yipped loudly, and sprinted into the trees. “Alrighty then, see you later boy.” He stepped up besides Maverick leaning on her spear. “I hope you know where the craft hall is here. I haven’t found one at all yet and want to get started before I get too far into this world.”

  “This was my starting area, remember?” she assured him as they entered the city. “You won’t get lost with me by your side.”

  “Guess not,” he uttered quietly, leaning his head back to gander at the gate high overhead. “This place is massive!”

  “Wait ‘til you see the main palace.”

  “Palace?” He pulled up his quest tracker as they walked and, sure enough, Tavin was here in the city. “Looks like I have to get to this spot,” he told Maverick, gesturing to the map.

  “Fourth level. We’ll get up there eventually.”

  “Level?”

  “Come on, we have plenty of time!” Her clear love for this world, the thrill of it, was contagious and Bishop found himself enjoying Maverick’s version of a tour through the great human city of Weston.

  ***

  Bishop followed Maverick around, absorbing as many details as he could, but there was simply too much to see. The first level was the main market place, and he picked up five quests just to do in the city itself.

  Maverick led him to the craft hall, or halls really, and he paid for her gear repairs. He debated between which craft to select and figured he could buy wood if needed at the Auction House, so he chose to be able to craft his bow instead of harvesting materials for it.

  The sounds of players crafting was music to his ears. Bishop purchased the materials he needed and, thankfully, found the wood on the Auction House provided by some ambitious players intent on making a quick buck.

  In a normal game, the character would act like they were chiseling wood and then, magically, a finished product would appear in their bag. None of that here! In the world of Samar, Bishop actually had to use his tools. He didn’t exactly have to carve the wood completely, but he had to get the process started before the system took over for him. The wood shimmered beneath his hands and, a few minutes later, a curved bow sat before him on the table.

  He sifted through the other random materials he possessed, to see if there was anything he could add to boost the stats of his new weapon, but nothing yet. He reached out to pick it up, and a prompt popped up, asking for him to name this new bow.

  Thinking back over his conversation with Maverick, he grinned and typed in a name. A moment later, he was leaving the hall with a new bow slung over his body. It was certainly not as good as the event’s drop but, for now, it would suit him just fine.

  “Fool’s Bane? Really?” Maverick asked when he held out his newly crafted bow to her.

  “Thought it was fitting.”

  “You were right.” She shook out her head of braids and tapped her spear against the cobblestones. “Nearly to the fourth level,” she told him as they walked up another sloped cobblestone road. “There’s several taverns there with rooms to rent and houses further up to buy.”

  “I was wondering about neighborhoods.”

  “So far, I’ve only seen them here in Weston. Could be the same in other major cities.”

  “Not in Harborage,” he said. “Wonder why not.”

  She shrugged. “Dunno. I’m more curious about the first dungeon. Think anyone else has seen the door?”

  “That outpost is pretty well hidden. I only found it by talking to a guard on the northern road, not the main one,” he mused as they walked. “Probably not.”

  “Good. Then we get first dibs on the loot.”

  “We?” he asked, smirking.

  “Hell yeah. You don’t think you’re going to make it without a shifter, do you?”

  “There’s a few players I did an event with. They were a good group,” he said, as they came to a stop at another arched gateway. “Think that’ll put us real close to our number.”

  She tapped her spear on the hard stone again, a habit he noticed she had. “Good. Damn, looks like it’s lunch break,” she said, pointing over their heads to the displayed message calling for all players to log out. “See you on the outside. What’s your name so I can find you?”

  “Harrison Harper,” he said, pulling up his logout menu.

  “Harper?” she asked, and she laughed. “Wow, I had to save Harrison Harper from getting his butt handed to him. Nice.”

  He frowned at her, but then she faded from view and he opened his eyes back in the lab again.

  Chapter 6

  As soon as they were detached, Harrison, Jimmy, and the others he could find from the event found a table together in the cafeteria. With them leaning in, he delivered the good news.

  He kept his eyes out for a woman to join them, the shifter from the game, as the others spoke in hushed excited whispers about the first dungeon.

  “No one else has found it yet,” Jimmy said. “At least none that I know of. Where are you anyway?”

  “Weston. Reached it about an hour or so before I logged out. Almost level ten.” Harrison chewed his burger and choked when a sharp clap fell on his shoulder.

  “Don’t choke on my account,” a sassy voice said behind him.

  The guys at the table fell silent as Harrison finally managed to swallow his food and turned around. The woman behind him was short, at least shorter than the killing machine she incarnated in the game. Her hair was long and black, hanging in braids gathered in a bright purple band. Several tattoos covered her bare caramel covered skinned shoulders and disappeared under the fabric of her shirt. Her dark brown eyes glimmered with mischief as she held out a hand to Harrison.

  “Alana Jacobs,” she said, introducing herself properly. “Nice to meet you in real life.”

  “Same,” Harrison said, and he took her hand with a smile. “Care to join us? Just told them the good news.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Jimmy and the others scooted around on the circular bench to make room for her petite form. “So this is the shifter who saved you?” he asked, his eyes looking at Alana even though Harrison was pretty sure the question was directed at him. “Jimmy, nice to meet you. Elf healer.”

  Alana laughed as she took his hand. “Shifter, prot tank, monk class. Healer huh, guess you’re one of the guys I’ll be protecting when we do the dungeon.”

  Jimmy’s cheeks flared bright red and Harrison grinned. “Yeah he is. That’s Benji, also a healer, Giles, Arthur, Sorgon, and Shamus. The others from the event, not sure who they are but we’ll try to find them once we’re in game again.”

  Benji rested on his arms. “Right now we have eight for the dungeon. Think the lowest number we can attempt it at is twelve. Need four more. Know anyone?”

  “How many do we have of what?” Alana asked, and she drew out a small notebook she had tucked in her pocket.

  “Two healers, a monk, two tanks between you and Arthur, but three if Sorgon tanks instead of focuses on DPS,” Harrison said, counting off everyone on his f
ingers as she scribbled furiously on the paper. “Then there’s me and Giles for DPS. That’s all we have so far.”

  Alana tapped her pen on the paper. “Two healers might be enough, but we have no idea what’s beyond those doors. Might be safe to add another. Either of you have the exorcist spec yet?”

  “Can’t get it until level ten,” Jimmy said with an aggravated sigh. “Three levels off.”

  “Same,” Benji said. “You and Harrison are the closest to ten. We’re playing catch up.”

  “And we probably shouldn’t enter the dungeon until everyone is the same level,” Harrison said, puffing out his cheeks.

  “Why do you say that?” Arthur asked.

  “The event that happened back in Horsen? I was the highest level player there at the time. And that Spawn, it matched my level. The trash might not have but, if the big boss matches the highest level player, it’s best if we’re all the same.”

  “I was wondering why it was so high,” Benji said. “Damn, Harrison just screwing us up all over the place.”

  They all laughed with him. After the event, the other players seemed to decide it was in their best interest to take advice from a well-seasoned player like Harrison, instead of look down their noses at him.

  “Well then, I guess it’s time we form a guild and start recruiting,” Jimmy said. “I vote Harrison leader and we really only need four more players. If the raids get larger, we can always group up with other guilds.”

  “Sounds like a solid plan to me,” Alana agreed, nodding along with the others.

  “Wait,” Harrison said, holding up his hands, a nervous laugh slipping out of his mouth. “Why am I the guild leader? Do we even have guilds in this? It’s beta.”

  “You didn’t read your brochure, did you?” Alana said. “The way the reward program works?”

  Harrison scratched at the scruff at his cheeks. “Must’ve glossed over that part.”

  “The rewards are greater if you create a guild early on and stay with the players,” Alana explained. “They don’t just want single players running around the whole time. They want to see how the guilds work and interact in this type of setting, so it’s more beneficial for us to make a guild.”

  “Ok fine, but why am I leader?”

  “Out of all of us, you’re the oldest,” Alana pointed out with a wink. “Is all.”

  Harrison’s lips thinned. “Thanks for that. Any other reason?”

  “You saved our asses during that event,” Benji stated. “And you were famous, man. You know how to run guilds, how to do these dungeons probably better than all of us.”

  “Except me,” Alana added in a whisper.

  Harrison watched them all nod earnestly as they waited to hear his answer. Running an event was one thing, but a guild? Having that many players rely on him for the entire month long run of the beta? He hadn’t even been able to keep his family together.

  Harrison tapped his fingers on the table, hating the hopeful look in their eyes that he could be the one to lead them to greatness. If they were the first to do a successful run of this dungeon, they could set the standard for the rest of the game.

  You know you’re just going to fuck it up, he told himself. You always do.

  “Come on, Harrison,” Alana urged. “Promise I’ll cover your butt again if you get yourself in a mess.”

  He hung his head. “I can’t promise you we’ll be the best guild in the game,” he started slowly, “but I’ll do my damnedest to make everyone else have to follow in our footsteps. Let’s do it!”

  They clapped and whistled, grabbing the attention of other players close by.

  “We need a name,” Jimmy announced. “What should we be called?”

  “Heroes of Samar?” Giles suggested.

  “You think we’re going to be the only guild to use that name?” Benji pointed out.

  “Need something catchy,” Alana said, tapping her pen again. Her eyes lit up and her tapping stopped. “What about Harry’s Harpies?”

  “Some of us are not of the female persuasion,” Arthur muttered, aiming towards his groin. “Not going to be labeled a harpy, no offense.”

  Alana stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, then you come up with something.”

  “The Bishop’s Guard?” Jimmy said, throwing it out there. “Nah, that sounds stupid.”

  “No it doesn’t,” Giles said, shaking his head. “The Bishop’s Guard. I think I like it. Guys?”

  Each of them said it quietly, trying it out, and Harrison’s chest swelled with a weird sense of pride when they told Alana to jot it down. “I think we have a name. We can get it set up once we go back inside the game. Where is everyone right now?”

  Most of them were close to Weston and would be there by the end of game day today. Harrison was nearly level ten. If he turned in the next part of his quest to Tavin, he knew he would hit it and then he could help the others level up while he worked on his crafting skills.

  They talked about who could do what and he was glad he picked the skill he did. Three of the others were foragers and could easily supply him with materials if he could craft spears and staffs for them in return.

  The more they talked and planned, the more the weight of the past year fell away and Harrison started to feel like his old self again. He was at home here amongst these players, and he hated to think what would happen once the month was up.

  With their plan in place to meet up at the Fireside Tavern in Weston by the end of the day, they broke apart to take care of any other personal business before diving back into the game. Harrison had to hit the bathroom and ducked into the men’s room. It was empty when he entered, and he chose one of the stalls towards the end. Urinals always personally freaked him out ever since some guy in high school stared at his junk the entire time they were pissing next to each other, making kissy faces.

  He locked the stall door and set to his business when the door opened again and several voices spoke in deep tones back and forth.

  “I’ve ganked at least five players by now, man,” one of the men said.

  “I would’ve had five, but some asshole shifter stopped me from getting my kill. Needed him to. Think I finally found the guy he told us to look for,” another one muttered. “Now I have to track down that damn shifter too so I can give’em some payback.”

  Harrison froze. Someone told those demon players to look for him? He had to have heard them wrong. Maybe they just meant a hunter, not him specifically.

  “If he’s hiding out in Weston, we can wait until he comes out again,” the first guy said. “That shifter can’t be by his side all the time.”

  “All I know is the more we fuck up his game and make him lose out on his bonuses, the more we get paid at the end of the month.” They chortled at his words, muttering too quietly for Harrison to hear anything else. The urinals flushed and the voices echoed against the tile walls as they left the bathroom.

  Harrison sagged against the wall, mind racing. He swore he saw Rodney here. Was it possible Paris sent him along to keep an eye on Harrison this whole time and make sure he did what he was supposed to do? But why target him then, unless he hoped Harrison would fail the beta and wash out, not be able to collect any monetary reward for his contributions to the game?

  Go to Dennis right now and tell him, the rational part of his mind said. He might kick you out, but then again, he seems to like you. Maybe he can help.

  Or maybe he’ll think you’re a washed up drunk who’s begging for attention, the darker part of his mind answered. All you’ll do is make things worse for you and everyone around you. Don’t tell him! Do what you’re supposed to do and save your own ass. It’s what you’re good at.

  Years ago he had been a great leader of his guild. Made a name for himself. Everyone wanted to be in his guild, but then he let them all down and messed up. He was not going to do the same this time around. There was too much on the line and, if he ever wanted to get out of this rut, he had to prove himself, prove everyone wrong. I
f Paris thought he could bully Harrison into working for him forever, he was about to see a whole other side of Harrison Harper.

  He was going to meet Bishop, the man Harrison was quickly becoming.

  Finished in the restroom, he left in a hurry and, hands shaking, settled back at his station across from Jimmy. Tyler asked him if everything was alright and he assured him it was. Everything was perfectly fine. He leaned back and waited to re-enter the game that was quickly becoming so much more than just a game.

  ***

  Bishop squinted as his eyes adjusted, standing in the middle of the road he logged out from. A few seconds later, Maverick appeared beside him.

  “You ok?” she asked, frowning.

  “Yeah I’m good, why?”

  “Dunno, you just look off.” She studied him before shrugging. “Whatever. I’m going to head to the lower levels and see who I can recruit. Think you can get the guild invites sent alright? Oh and we should look into a house.”

  He checked how much coin he had. “I’ve got about five thousand gold. You?”

  “Little under. We’ll have to see what everyone else has. Might be enough. If not now, I’m sure we’ll have plenty after the first you know what,” she said giving him a nudge and a wink. “Check in with you this evening before we log out again.”

  She took off at a run and Bishop pulled up his map to find where it said for him to meet Tavin. He was on the right level, he thought, and moved in the direction of the arrows at his feet until they brought him to the same tavern he was going to meet everyone at later.

  He stepped inside the Fireside Tavern, the upbeat string music greeting him along with a warm hearth and a comfy chair near a window. Bishop glanced around, but didn’t see any of the others there yet. He sat down and went about creating the guild, sending out invites, and reading up quickly on how guilds worked in this game. Thankfully, Dennis kept the same general structure as the other games he played, so there was nothing new to figure out. He stood, ready to find Tavin, when the music skipped harshly in his ears.