Neck-Deep In It: A LitRPG and GameLit Series.

by Jason Cheek

  Immediately, all of the monsters in front of the city’s walls howled, shrieked, chittered, or growled in fury as Töten dropped from their aggro lists. Instead of turning around and retreating back to the forest, the monsters turned their focus onto the PKers nearest to them. As the majority of the raid suddenly came under attack from the remaining monsters, the hundred or so PKers that were hot on Töten’s heels managed to follow him through the illusionary ironwood gates.

  There was no time for Töten to breathe a sigh of relief as he passed through the archway and flung himself bodily into the deep pit that had been dug before the main gate, barely clearing the wooden-spikes that had been hammered into the ground. At first, he’d thought that the illusion was down as the handful of Rogues that were hot on his heels leaped in after him. That was until he heard the chorus of screams ringing out behind him.

  Looking over his shoulder, Töten was shocked to see the Rogues hanging in midair from where they’d impaled themselves upon the row of wooden-spikes. As they screamed their vitriol after him, he kept running and almost suffered the same fate, barely turning around in time to dodge past the next rows of wooden-spikes. Though, it thankfully slowed the PKers chasing after him down by forcing them to carefully slide down into the edge of the pit before slowly making their way further into the pit trap, especially after a few more painfully rammed themselves onto the next row of hidden wooden-spikes.

  Though, by the time Töten had reached the far side of the pit, the majority of the PKers had nearly cleared the halfway point by swinging their swords ahead of them to feel their way through. Seeing a ladder leaning against the edge of the pit ahead of him, he quickly made his way over to it and climbed out. As he stepped out of the pit, Töten heard a familiar voice ring out.

  “Don masks and prepare to throw your clay flasks,” Sub-Leader Butchers’ voice commanded as everyone gathered around the edge of the pit trap and began strapping on the charcoal coverings that he’d shown them how to build.

  Looking around, Töten quickly took in the situation around him as the young girl Alanah that he’d officially met the night before tossed him a mask covering. Giving her a nod of thanks, he glanced over at the sweat-soaked female Bard that was still singing and playing her heart out and the young Centaur male standing behind her as he quickly wet the mask with some water, before wrapping the cloth around his nose and mouth. She must be the Bard that was keeping the illusion up since the Dwarven Bard that he’d met earlier was collapsed on the ground by the large Taiko Drums of Despair. Before he could take in more of the situation, his eyes were pulled back to the pit trap as the PKers began nearing the far edge where everyone stood.

  “Throw your clay flasks and prepare for battle!” Sub-Leader Butcher’s muffled voice commanded as the sound of breaking pottery rang out throughout the pit trap.

  As a greenish-yellow gas began bubbling up out of the impact points, Töten heard several players jokingly call out that they were being gassed by pizza bombs since it smelled like garlic and onions had been chucked at them. That was until the noxious fumes began to thicken. Almost immediately, the PKers began frantically running around trying to escape the pit trap as their exposed skin and eyes began to burn like they’d been dipped in acid.

  “Magic Mustard Gas for the win,” Töten grimly said to no one in particular as he watched the PKers begin coughing up blood as they blindly impaled themselves on the wood-spikes around the pit. The poisonous gas was a little something that he’d cooked up when he was an Alpha player that the developers hadn’t taken out of the game. Though, after videos of this got out on the forums, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Alchemy Recipe was gimped by the developers, Töten silently thought, studying the satisfied looks on the troopers’ faces around him as several of them stepped forward to push the handful of PKers that had almost escaped back into the pit trap with the tip of their spears.

  While that might seem cold to anyone watching the video who didn’t know the full story, Töten had seen what these fucktards had done to both the people of Telrain and Darom. He didn’t blame them one bit for wanting revenge on these murderhobos. Letting out a heavy sigh, Töten silently hoped that this Startum guy was as cool as he seemed to be and would be willing to share the secret of transporting castles for all of his help in keeping his people safe. Otherwise, this would all be for naught.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  (Mike Eyedol in the Holgabrudr's Bane Mountains overlooking the Troll Stronghold of CragFang.)

  “Let’s, as you say, repeat this … lovely plan,” Dmitry, the Krasnyy Volki Guild Leader, said, looking between Mike and the other two Guild Leaders in the impromptu War Council, “You want our squishy raid mates,” he pointedly looked around at the concerned faces of the various Fire and Dark Mages standing around them listening in, “carried into this Troll Stronghold in iron cages that,” he paused to think of the correct word, “block all magic by our zombie Trolls. Once inside, our squishes will Sneak Attack guards while raid runs across stone bridge.” The Russian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Additionally, we not know how many Trolls in mountain so we block exits with zombies while escaping out other gate, no?”

  “More or less,” Mike said with a sigh, unsure if the Russian was making fun of him or not, “it mainly depends on how many Trolls are held-up in the mountain and how long it takes for us to clear the gates.”

  “If we time it right,” Dangas, the Aussie Guild Leader, said as he jumped into the conversation, “there’s a good chance we can release the Troll’s garrison just as our friends are entering the stronghold.”

  “Okay, now that’s something that I’d pay good money to see,” Anders, the Norwegian Guild Leader, said, grimly smiling at the thought as Dmitry glanced at Natasha who nodded in agreement back.

  “As you say, is no problem,” Dmitry said, clapping his officer in charge of stealth operations on the shoulder, “Natasha thinks is good plan.”

  “I don’t care how good of a plan you think it is,” Steph said from where she stood with her arms unhappily crossed, “but we’re not going into this ruckus without a few Warriors to run interference with us.” At her words, her boyfriend, Toxi, stepped up beside her and planted his two-headed battle axe on the ground before him.

  “Da, I go to,” Ivan said, stepping forward to give the Half-Orc standing behind the red-furred Panda kin a fist bump, “we keep squishes safe while they burn place down.”

  “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Mike said, “my people will be there to back you up.” His eyes took in the circle of players. “We just need to make sure those gates are cleared as soon as possible. Otherwise, we’re going to be drowning in Trolls.”

  “You worry too much,” Dmitry said, clapping Mike on the shoulder, “worry more if Arcturus can hold those mu-dak back.” It took a second for Mike to remember that Arcturus was Anders in-game name as the Norwegian’s face darkened at the criticism.

  “We’re doing our best,” Anders angrily spat, “but those assholes are no joke. Even worse, they’re getting better at pushing through our blockades.” Seeing the concerned looks that everyone gave him, he gave an apologetic shrug. “Look, those Lightning and Flame Shields are no joke. If they rush our blockades with enough players, there’s no way we can inflict enough damage to stop them on the straightaways. The only thing that’s stopped us from being completely owned so far is by our use of the zombies to drag them off the trail.”

  “If they figure out how to fully counteract that tactic,” Bjørn cut in as he walked up, “then we’re completely fucked.”

  “While the situation is no joke,” Anders said, giving his guild officer a warning clap on the shoulder, “we should be able to hold them back long enough to pull this off.”

  “Only if you’ve got some more soul stones to hand out,” Bjørn said in no uncertain terms as Anders gave him a “What the fuck?” look. “They’re doing another push. Probably think they can burn us out of zombies and still have enough troopers l
eft to take us out afterwards.”

  “Knulle!” Anders angrily swore as he turned to Mike who instantly handed them half of their supply of Troll zombie soul stones.

  “Just do the best that you guys can,” Mike said as Anders and Bjørn hurriedly scooped the soul stones into their belt pouches, “and we’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Can we still pull this off with only sixty Trolls,” Dangas asked, the concern clear in his voice as he sidled up next to Mike.

  “Do we have any other choice?” Mike asked, his usual mirth gone from his voice as the Aussie Guild Leader grimaced at his words. Before Dangas could continue, a large hand clapped them each on the shoulder.

  “There is no can,” Dmitry said, letting out a booming laugh as he stepped up between his two companions, “there is only do.” As Mike and Dangas nodded in agreement, he brushed past them both as he began walking towards the iron cages. “Then come, there is much work to do.” The Russian Guild Leader called out to his guildmates. “Boris, Mikhail, let’s get the cages ready.”

  “If you get the Troll summoned,” Dangas said, “I’ll get everyone ready who’s going.” Giving Mike a friendly pat on the back, the Aussie Guild Leader began striding after Dmitry calling out to his people. “Foxfire, Rassilon, get Kane and whoever else is going over here.”

  “Alright people,” Mike said, switching to the House of Tuin’Dyrr chat, “get your Troll zombies summoned and prepare to move out.” Getting an affirmative from his Sub-Leaders and Group Leaders, he ran a nervous hand through his short-cropped hair as he walked over to the bend in the trail that ran to the Troll Stronghold of CragFang and pulled out the last Troll soul stone in his pouch. Actually, it was the last soul stone he had period, Mike wryly thought, as the displaced air of a Shadow Step came from behind him.

  “You didn’t tell them,” Sub-Leader Pevnuth simply said.

  “What would it have helped if I did?” Mike asked, letting out a heavy sigh, “Would it have changed the plan in any way?”

  “No,” Sub-Leader Pevnuth answered, her voice flat and unemotional.

  “Exactly,” Mike said cracking his neck, before continuing in a low voice. “Sometimes, a Scout’s job is to give hope after making the best plan that’s possible in the situation you’re given.”

  “Then, I’d like my people to be the escort backing up the newfar in the cages,” Sub-Leader Pevnuth requested to Mike’s surprise. As he turned his head to study her face, the Dark Elf shifted uncomfortably under his questioning gaze. “I thought halflings and Beast Kin were less than humanoid in your book?”

  “I don’t know what book you speak of milord Eyedol,” Sub-Leader Pevnuth said as her cheeks flushed darkly, “All that I know is that I owe the halflings and the Panda kin my life.”

  “Permission granted,” Mike said, after silently studying the bald-headed Dark Elf for a moment longer.

  “Thank you, milord,” Sub-Leader Pevnuth said, bowing her head respectfully before looking him in the eyes, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my Shadow Assassins prepared.”

  “Go,” Mike said, looking away as his Sub-Leader disappeared in a swirl of shadow. Ignoring the bile that rose in the back of his throat at the soul stone gripped in his fist, he began casting Raise Zombie as his eyes studied the Troll Stronghold of CragFang.

  It really wasn’t a stronghold in the typical sense of the word. Meaning, that it hadn’t been built or constructed by hand. Not that primitive humans hadn’t used similar natural locations for their homes on Earth. To Mike’s eyes, it looked like a small caldera that had been formed at the top of the peak from an old volcano which now had a stone-like ramp between peaks that led up to the divot that had been knocked out on this side of the hollow. There was another divot on the opposite side of the crater that had another lava outflow that led to the mountain trail that they were currently following. Almost as if this was an old fortress crafted from the remains of a volcano by whatever unknown race that had built this mountain trail that ran completely through the Holgabrudr's Bane Mountains.

  The Trolls, or some other race, had spent the time and effort necessary to create stone-like barricades to wall off the divots. Additionally, large stones had been crafted or hauled into place that could be pushed across the openings of the crude defensive walls to function as a gate in case of attack. While both the barricade and stone plugs were primitive in the extreme, they would nonetheless be extremely effective simply due to their mass in blocking access to an enemy trying to invade the caldera, especially with the Troll defenders protecting the top of the barricades.

  The problem that Sub-Leader Pevnuth was referring to was what they’d discovered on their scouting expedition that he hadn’t shared with the rest of the raid. That being that the entire rim of the caldera was literally infested filled with hundreds if not thousands of high-level Trolls. The good thing was that there were only eight openings to the cave complexes that were nearly equally spaced out on each arc of the rim where all of them seemed to live. Mike figured that meant someone had specifically built caves that way as a means of added defense in case the rim of the caldera was successfully overrun.

  When the rest of the Guild Leaders of their raid had asked about the numbers of Trolls they were up against, Mike had simply informed them that he and his people hadn’t been able to scout into the cave system, but that he believed that they could block the cave openings with their Trolls long enough for the raid to hurry through to the opposite side of the caldera and escape. He’d even pointed out that the Trolls would then be on alert for when the Chaos Storm Alliance raid tried passing through.

  Yes, Mike knew it was a lie of omission but what would telling everyone have accomplished? Nothing, it would’ve simply made everyone stressed out about being overrun by Trolls if the ambush went south which would only accomplish lowering everyone’s morale for the fight. Well, everyone except for maybe the Krasnyy Volki guild, Mike sardonically thought, those Russians didn’t seem to worry about anything. It was like they expected life to shit on them and simply took it in stride.

  Mike’s contemplation was completely disrupted when Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs suddenly appeared before him in all of her horrendous glory as the spell came to an end. Though he knew she was being summoned, it was a little jolting to have her suddenly appear towering over him in her hunched over stance. Well, that, and the unwanted intimacy that they’d accidentally shared with one another. While those disturbing thoughts were going through his mind, Mike nearly jumped out of his skin when the Matriarch’s rubbery black teats swung forward to lightly graze the sides of his face.

  “Bla … bla-bla … bla,” Mike urgently spat, wiping at his face with his palms as he jumped backwards to get away from the zombie Troll’s immense saggy dugs. It took a serious effort of will to not explosively spew the contents of his stomach at the feel of the necrotic flesh as a shiver of repulsion ran down his spine. Mike was horrified to realize that he could tell the difference between her zombified flesh to that of her living flesh.

  Getting his revulsion under control, Mike covertly looked around to make sure no one had noticed what had happened. Seeing no one looking his way, he breathed a sigh of relief, before mentally ordering the zombie to follow him at a slight distance. Heading over to the group of players being loaded up on the back of the zombie Trolls, he heard the Panda kin’s sharp exhale.

  “Seriously Mike,” Steph said, eyeing the Matriarch following behind him unhappily, “you couldn’t take a moment to find a skirt for your girlfriend?”

  “She’s NOT my girlfriend,” Mike said in exasperation, trying to not show how skeeved out he felt about the whole situation, “And seriously, she’s a freaking zombie.”

  “She’s a Matriarch,” Steph corrected as Toxi and the other players prepping the zombies and cages nodded in agreement, “and a Matriarch wouldn’t be strutting around like a hussy.”

  “Strutting around like a hussy?” Mike repeated, turning a shade green as he unconsciously
thought about his face-plant the day before.

  “Da, Mike,” Dmitry said, as Ivan and Boris nodded beside him, “a lady would not walk with her kotik uncovered.”

  “She was no lady,” Mike grumbled under his breath as Natasha joined the conversation.

  “Mi-cha-el,” Natasha said, completely mispronouncing his name but sounding sexy as hell while doing it, “if I remember correctly, one of the Aussie players looted the Matriarch’s skirt.”

  ““Bogan,”” the Aussies said in unison, before Dangas switched to guild chat. A second later, an odd looking Human named Daniel came running up waving a familiar leather wrap. For some reason, he gave Mike a queer feeling. Almost like he’d collected the disgusting hide for some sort of fetish.

  “No worries mate,” Daniel said, holding the stinking hide out to Mike. “With averything going awn, aye thought you’d forgot the wrap an didn’t want yea missing out on the lute.”

  “Umm, hold up there Daniel,” Mike said, holding his palms up not wanting to touch the rotten hide.

  “Just call mea Bogan,” Daniels said with a friendly laugh, “averyone else does.”

  “Uh, thanks, Bogan,” Mike said, trying not to chuckle at the man’s accent. Something that was amazing that he could pull off while still speaking common. “I’ll make a deal with you,” Mike nervously ran a hand through his short hair, “if you dress the la-lady,” he stuttered at calling the Matriarch zombie a lady, “you can keep the skirt as loot once we get through the Troll stronghold if you want.”

  “You’ve got a deal cobber,” Bogan excitedly said, eyeing the immense Troll female with a look that made Mike feel oddly queasy as they shook on it. As the Queensland man excitedly began wrapping the rotten hide around the zombie Matriarch’s waist, Mike noticed that the other Aussies in the group had a similar uncomfortable look plastered to their faces as he did.

  Whatever, Mike silently thought, it took all kinds to make the world go around … figuratively and virtually. Though, it might be better if Bogan didn’t have access to zombies and Dark magic, he silently thought, trying not to retch at the disturbing scene, especially when the other man casually stuck his head between the zombie’s hanging dugs to secure the wrap around the Matriarch’s waist. Turning away, Mike gulped in air to stop from puking as he walked over to Dmitry who was helping a handful of Mages into the last cage.