He and the other players in the tavern glanced around, covering their ears as the NPCs flickered in and out before stabilizing.
The players shared nervous glances, but when it didn’t happen again, they went back to their business. Bishop looked around the ceiling, noticing a few places where he caught a shimmering effect.
“Have to make a note of that for Dennis,” he murmured, and he pushed through to the center of the tavern. The arrows directed him towards the back and a set of rickety stairs leading up. Each one creaked beneath his weight as if calling out a warning to him to turn back before it was too late. A single door filled the small landing and he rested his hand on the knob watching the arrows disappear in the crack beneath. “Why does this feel wrong?” he whispered to the strange silence, right before he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
“Bishop!”
Tavin was in the room, and she was not alone. Three demons held her in their grip, dragging her back towards a green swirling portal in the far wall. She fought to get away from them, but they were too strong for her.
Bishop drew his dagger and charged into the room with a yell. At the same instant, one of the demons yelled in a rough tongue, and Bishop was slammed back into the doorframe. Tavin screamed one final time as they dragged her into the portal and it closed before Bishop could regain his footing.
“Tavin! Damn it!” he bellowed, slamming his fist against the solid wall.
A quest prompt appeared before him and he touched it. His quest to speak to Tavin had changed. She had been taken by Azriel’s minions who held her in the dungeon, waiting to be rescued before she was turned into a full-fledged demon.
Two quests were now available: the first was for the dungeon itself, and the second would lead Bishop to the palace to meet this King Godfrey they had been hearing about. The palace was located on the uppermost level of the city. Bishop was so close to ten, he decided to hold off on finishing any other quest in the city until he saw where his level rested after meeting with the King.
He accepted the quest and another prompt floated before his face. You will be transported to the palace steps.
A countdown timer appeared with it, and Bishop braced for the twisting sensation in his gut as he vanished from the tavern and materialized on a grand set of marble and obsidian stone steps.
Tilting his head back to try and see the top of the palace, he felt his jaw drop to the floor, and he gripped his bow hard in his hand. “Nice palace.”
“Halt! State your business, mongrel!” an NPC dressed in silver plate armor demanded as he approached Bishop with his spear aimed at his chest. Three more closed in and Bishop lifted his hands into the air. “I said state your business before I run you through!”
“Bishop, my name is Bishop and I have come to speak to the King on important business,” he stated loudly, keeping a close eye on the spear near his chest.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes I do. I have to tell him what is happening. Please, we will all be in grave danger if I can’t speak with him right now.”
The guard glowered at him and didn’t lower his spear. “You and your kind are not welcomed here, half-breed. Why should we trust you?”
Bishop wasn’t sure how to respond. Was it supposed to be this difficult to see the King? He wanted to check his bags and make sure he hadn’t picked up something he could use as proof, but when he moved his hand the guard shoved his spear closer until the tip pressed into his chest.
“I saw the chasm myself, outside of Harborage,” he announced. “And Tavin, my guide, was just taken by demons here in your city! There’s an outpost a few miles west of Brookside. I need to speak to King Godfrey!”
The guard gave him a smug look. “You will not see the King. Perhaps some time in a cell will clear your head of this insanity. Take him!”
Bishop wasn’t sure what would happen if he resisted but, as the guards reached for his wrists, the ground beneath his feet shook violently, throwing them all to the ground. He grunted, his face barely missing the step ledge, and he glanced around as a high pitched scream tore across the open courtyard of stone.
Wincing in pain, he climbed to his feet. And he watched as a portal writhed in green flame sprouted to life in the middle of the stairs and several demons crawled out, attacking the guards without warning.
Bishop drew his bow and took aim, firing Rain of Poisoned Barbed Arrows as fast as he could while the guards struggled to rally, the one who held him at spear point calling out orders to hold back the demons. A group jumped out of the portal and took off straight for the doors leading into the palace.
“The King! Protect the King!” the commander yelled, too busy blocking an attack from two demons to go himself.
Bishop fired another Instant Shot as his frantic gaze searched, but none of the other guards were able to break after the group. Wishing he could call Willy to his side for some backup, he sprinted after the group beating at the door. The wood splintered under their assault, and Bishop fired his Rain of Poisoned Barbed Arrows to try and slow them down, draining their health.
Two turned from the group and, snarling viciously, ran at him on all fours like beasts, their wings torn and tattered on their backs. Bishop shot at them both with Instant Shots, one after the other, but they hit him hard and he rolled half way down the steps. The hit had knocked off a fourth of his health. He drank a potion, trying to keep his health up, and attacked them again with Rain of Arrows.
As the two demons came after him again, Bishop looked around for anything to help him keep some distance between them. That’s when a howl pierced through the chaos of the fight. Bishop had no idea where his companion came from, but Bishop wasn’t going to stop to ask. The white furred body of Willy ran up the steps. Growling furiously, the wolf attacked the two demons, giving Bishop his chance to kill them before he turned his attention back to the demons at the door.
Willy howled again and, like before at the event, more wolves materialized to join the fight. They bit and tore at the demons. Unfortunately, they weren’t fast enough and the doors shattered. Three demons cried out with wicked glee as they rushed inside the palace. Screams guided Bishop to the demons along with the trail of bloodied and broken bodies they left behind. The main hall emptied straight into another tall ceiling room, walls lined with windows and a dais at the far end. Two thrones sat atop it and a group of guards valiantly tried to fight off the attack, protecting the two people Bishop assumed were the King and Queen.
Bishop drew back his bow and attacked with Increased Swift Bow first as Willy howled and, alone now, dragged one of the demons away by the heel. He yelped in pain as the demon threw him off and his body hit the wall hard.
“You don’t mess with my wolf!” Bishop bellowed, and he aimed for the demon’s head with his Revenge shot.
The demon died with a snarl on its face, the kill shot obliterating the top half of it. Willy whined, struggling to get back to his feet. But Bishop couldn’t take care of him yet. With a vengeance, Bishop was firing Increased Swift Bow, followed by Instant shots at the last two demons. When they were finally down to their last bits of health, he drew his dagger and finished them off by hand, using his Slash Attack.
His health bar hovering a little under half—and panting from the exertion—, Bishop heard the shouts of the commander rushing into the throne room. The tall man bled from his head, but Bishop didn’t care about any of them. He rushed to Willy’s side and fed his wolf right away to aid in his recovery.
“King Godfrey! Queen Miren, you live!”
“Yes, we live!” King Godfrey bellowed. “Why are there demons in my throne room?”
“I tried to warn you,” Bishop shouted, holding Willy’s head in his lap as he impatiently watched his companion’s health regenerate. “I tried to tell you of the demons, but your commander of the guard would not let me pass.”
Willy sat up on his own, licking at the wound on his side as it healed.
“
And who are you, sir?” Godfrey demanded, storming across the throne room.
“My name is Bishop and I have come to deliver a message from the late Finnegan,” he said, climbing to his feet and staring this bearded and burly King straight in the face. “The chasms are opening and they are coming. Your lands are no longer safe from Valenastrious.”
Queen Miren gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as a hush fell over the rest of the throne room. Godfrey’s eyes widened and his hands fisted on his hips. “That…that is not possible. There are no demons in my realm!”
“Yes there are, quite a few actually,” Bishop said, calmly. “Want proof? I’ll take you to their outpost right now just outside of Brookside.”
Godfrey’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“My King, you should listen to him,” a man dressed in long black and grey robes said, panting for air as he entered from a side door, staff in hand. “The portal is closed for now, but more will open.”
“Portal? You speak of madness! You sound like him, Bronson!”
“When have I ever lied to you, my king?” Bronson asked. “Now is not that time to hold onto old prejudices.”
The commander stepped forward and bowed his head, holding his right arm funny. “My liege, Bronson is correct. This half-breed could have done nothing. Instead, he was the only one of us to reach you in time, to save you. Him and his beast.”
“Sir Ulfric, you are wounded and must have hit your head,” Godfrey argued.
“I have not, sir, and I believe I owe this man an apology.” He faced Bishop and bowed his head. “If we had heeded your words, we might have spared more of my men. Thank you for saving our King.”
Bishop bowed back. “He is my King as well as yours, and Finnegan’s dying wish was for him to be warned of the impending war. The demons are coming and they will destroy your lands just as they destroyed those of my ancestors. You have to take action to stop them.”
Godfrey paced away from him and Bishop shook with the excitement of a little kid. This was so real, all of it. Now he understood what Dennis meant about getting lost in this world. It was so easy to talk like he actually belonged here, and the responses were so realistic as if he was actually in a throne room talking to real people and not characters in a game. Willy’s head nudged his hand and Bishop glanced down to see the wolf sitting by his side, fully healed.
“If I am to believe you, I will need proof,” Godfrey finally said. “Proof that this is a true threat and not some random sorcerer playing with dark magic he cannot control.”
Bishop wondered what he was supposed to offer in proof when his quest tracker popped up with the dungeon quest blinking. “My companions and I have found a door leading to one of the demon lord’s lairs. If we can kill him, I will bring you his head as proof,” he told the king. “And rescue the daughter of Finnegan to come and speak before you herself.”
Godfrey glanced to Bronson who nodded solemnly. “That will be proof enough. Until then, I thank you for your aid, but have no further use of you. See yourself out.”
Bishop backed away with another bow, turned on his heel, and he and Willy left the throne room. He stepped outside through the shattered remains of the palace doors and watched as the quest updated in the tracker.
You will be transported to your previous location.
Bishop watched the countdown timer hit zero, and his feet landed back in the Fireside Tavern. Willy was no longer with him, but he was glad to hear the familiar ding of him leveling.
You have reached level 10. The time has come to choose a spec. Please see your Hunter Trainer for further information on the ability tree.
You have received Level 10 accomplishment.
You have received: Health Potions level 10-12, Gift Box, Mount Appearance, and Canvas Bags x2.
Bishop equipped his two bigger bags, checked out the free mount appearance, which would turn Reaper into a black horse with a red skeleton outline etched in his fur. That he would take care of later. For now, he pulled up the map to try and find his trainer. The mail icon blinked. He tapped it before he set off into the city to see everyone he invited had accepted, and they were now all in the guild.
“Guess I’ll go find my trainer,” he whispered to himself before he set off down the cobbled street.
The sky began to darken overhead, but days in the game were not like real days. He wondered how much time that last venture had taken up and he wanted to be sure he made it back to the Tavern before he logged out for the day. The trainers were all on level five, so he picked up his pace.
“Bishop!”
He turned around to find Maverick, spear in hand, walking towards him. “Hey. See you’re level ten now too. Very nice.”
“Yeah, just caught up to the main quest line.”
“Met the King?”
Her head bobbed and she fell in step beside him. “Piece of work, isn’t he?”
“Did a portal of demons open up for you too and attack?”
“What? No, that sounds awesome!” she exclaimed. “They just let me right in.”
“Huh, wonder if it’s because of the half-breed deal,” he said, curiously. “Guess we’ll wait and talk to the others, too. Hopefully they make it into the city today.”
As they walked, Maverick asked him to describe how his quest went and he explained it in detail for her. She grumbled about hers being boring and knowing she should’ve picked the half-demon race instead of shifter.
“I don’t know. Shifters seem pretty legit.”
“They are. I’ve always played tanks,” she told him on a sigh. “Guess it’s the whole being short in real life, makes me want to play someone not so easily pushed around, you know?”
“Yeah, I do actually,” he muttered. “Not the short person part, but being pushed around. That I understand.”
She gave him a funny look. “What happened to you anyway? You were this famous guy in the gaming world and then you just disappeared. No one knew what happened to you. There were even rumors you were dead going around.”
Bishop wondered how much he should tell her, but didn’t want to lie to the people he was supposed to be trusting. “Close enough I guess. Made some bad decisions, lost my fight with the booze and the gambling. Fell into a pretty dark place for a while. Lost my wife and son in the process.” His chest ached with longing for his family to be together again and he rubbed the spot, hating himself all over again.
“You have a kid?”
“A son yeah. William. Love that damn kid.”
Maverick rested her hand on his arm pulling him to a stop. “Do me a favor. I know I don’t exactly know you well enough to probably say this, but I’m going to say it anyway. Whatever else you do with your life, you be there for your son. You see him, you call him, take him to a damn baseball game. Hell, teach him to be a gamer like you, but just be in his life.”
Brow crinkling, Bishop nodded. “I’m going to try my best. I take it you come from a not so great home?”
She pushed her tongue behind her upper lip as she glared around the street. “You could say that. I had parents and they cared more about tearing each other apart in the divorce than being there for me and my brothers.”
“Is that why you turned into such a gamer?”
“The only escape I had as a teenager, unless I wanted to go down the drug path, and that was not going to happen,” she said. “With the games I could disappear for a few hours and pretend all was right with the world.”
“Know the feeling. You know? I’m glad you decided to save my ass from those other players.”
She smirked and shoved him forward. “Keep walking, buddy. Flattery will get you nowhere with me, but for what it’s worth? I’m glad I did too. Was planning on walking by when I heard those shrill, girlish screams of panic, but something told me to stop,” she teased.
“Girlish screams, really?” Bishop muttered. “You just think you’re so damn funny.”
“Most of the time, yes.”
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They laughed, shoving each other back and forth as they reached the fifth level and tracked down their trainers. Bishop missed this kinship with other players, finding the people who were more like him than he first assumed. Most of them came from hard lives and this was the only place they felt safe enough to be themselves, the only place they could be strong. His resolve to find a way around his deal with Paris growing, Bishop centered his focus around his spec and getting his new guild through the first dungeon in one run and showing the rest of the beta players what a real gamer looked like.
“Trainers are inside,” Maverick told him, as they neared a stone building that looked like a cathedral. “Know what spec you’re going with yet?”
“Bowmaster, I think that’s what it was called,” he said, as they stepped through the arched doorway. “More power and I can keep my distance.”
“Hunters,” she teased, and she gave him a shove.
“Oh yeah? And what are you going for, furry?”
She puffed out her cheeks, tapping her spear against the floor. “Prot tank, or I think it’s called Righteous Protector? The skills seemed pretty intense, charged by rage which is great for the shifter class, and most of them can be used while I’m in beast form.”
“You don’t like playing with a weapon?”
“Never really been my thing. The last few games I played in, I was a monk, so I could do more hand to hand. In real life, I’m into a lot of martial arts and kickboxing.” She glanced around the cathedral. “Looks like I’m over there. See you in a few.”
She waved and took off across the vast space as Bishop turned to the right, following the arrows beneath his feet that led him to a woman. She held a bow in one hand and her other rested on a dagger at her hip. As Bishop approached, she bowed her head in acknowledgment.
“Bishop, I am happy you sought me out. Are you ready for your training?”
He nodded. “Hell yes,” he said, but when she simply blinked at him, he cleared his throat and said instead, “Yes, I am ready to learn.”
“Very well then. Pick your path and we will begin.”
The Wraith of Valenastrious: A LitRPG Epic (World of Samar Book 1) Page 9
