Legends of Tarthirious : Books One-Four of Kylia's Story (Legends of Tarthirious (A LitRPG))

by Zachariah Dracoulis

  “Hellion the Destroyer?” I asked as I approached him.

  “Y-yes… What do you want? Are you detectives? I’m not doing anything illegal!” he shouted frantically, his words sticking together like he’d broken his RL spacebar.

  “Whoa, calm down, it’s me, Daemion the Dread.” I said as coolly as I could.

  Hellion looked me up and down, “But you’re a girl, Daemion’s a man.”

  “No, Daemion is a daemon. Daemon’s have no gender.” I clarified. I’d had the problem before. Many times.

  “But you can choose a female build?” he said confusedly.

  Gerald to me with a joking smile, “Yeah, he’s right. Why didn’t you go for the female body?”

  He was one of the many times, “I believe that seeing as daemons have no strict sex that they would choose the strongest form for their purposes, female for the succubus sub-race, and male for the fighter, etcetera.”

  “Hmm…” Gerald hummed in mock confusion, “But why would a male be a better fighter? Unless… you don’t mean…”

  “Yes, I think males suit strength builds more.” I said, knowing what was coming next.

  Gerald screwed his face up and opened his mouth wide in false contempt, “That’s sexist!”

  “God I hate you sometimes. Hellion, I take it that that’s the money?”

  He nodded, “D-do you have the token?”

  I pulled it out of my pocket and gave it to him, “Unopened and ready for trade, or whatever else you plan to do with it.”

  “I’m looking at selling it a couple of kids in the States, they’ve got enough gold to almost double this.” he said as he handed me the bag, “Thank you so much for this.”

  I lifted the delightfully heavy bag of money, “And thank you for this.”

  There was no awkwardness after that, he just kind of disappeared, ran off down the street with a stupid grin on his face.

  “Welp, off to the bank.” I almost sung.

  “Hey,” Gerald said as we entered the station, “why didn’t you sell it on Tarthirious? I’m sure there’s plenty like Hellion’s buyers.”

  “True, but I don’t like messing around with transactions like that. Seems like a really good way to lose your money to the proverbial wind.”

  “I get that, and I s’pose there’ll always be someone somewhere making a better deal than you. So, which bank?”

  I looked at him like it was a stupid question, because it was, “With £25,000? We have to go to the city, no way am I walking into the West Ham branch. The tellers would probably rob me.”

  He laughed, “And you think city bankers won’t? Isn’t that their job?” he asked as we stopped on the platform to the city.

  “Ha-ha.” I laughed sarcastically. “Seriously though, you can go home, I’ll be right.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded and shuffled under the weight of the bag, “Yeah, get some game time in. Maybe now that he’s a bot you’ll be able to beat Daemion in the Arena.”

  “Because he won’t cheat,” he taunted as he walked toward the other platform, “see you round, yeah?”

  “Sure thing!” I shouted as the tube pulled up next to me.

  I’d had a really good time with him, he didn’t mince his words, he didn’t try to hit on me once, and I felt a bit sad that he wasn’t coming to the city with me.

  Then my phone died almost the second I boarded and I was downright pissed.

  Kylia: Chapter 7

  I shivered as the night wore on and the temperature dropped. It didn’t make any sense though, I was used to the weather, I’d lived in the cold all my life. Then I realised I still hadn’t had any sleep, effectively null and voiding my tolerance for just about everything.

  After depositing the cash I’d taken a bit of a wander around the city, had a nice lunch, and went to the place that custom built my last few rigs and ordered a new one to be delivered the next day.

  Really wished I hadn’t though, by the time I was done messing about it was already five and the sun had all but disappeared. I made it to West Ham alright, even got to my street, but the cold mixed with the exhaustion was getting to me.

  For some reason the thought of just lying down on the ground and having a bit of a nap sounded like a brilliant plan, and I had to keep telling myself that I was an idiot and I would die. Eventually my stubbornness wasn’t enough though, and every blink had me seemingly teleporting a few metres further than it should’ve.

  I vaguely remember seeing a shadow running at me with what appeared to be wings, and then I was on my couch, a cup of steaming tea on the living room table in front of me.

  I sat up and felt very disorientated, and for some reason incredibly annoyed, never did figure out why that was.

  “Hey, you feeling alright?” I heard Gerald say as he came to sit next to me.

  “Yeah… Yes. What… how… Do you like, live here now?”

  Gerald laughed a little, but couldn’t maintain it with his concern, “Always the funny one. Do you remember anything?”

  I nodded and grabbed the tea, “I was out for too long I’m guessing. Nearly fell asleep.”

  “So no one drugged you or anything?” he asked as I drank nearly half the tea in one go.

  “What? Course not. Just tired.” I finished the tea and put the mug down before wrapping up in the blanket I had on my shoulders, “Speaking of which, why were you out there?”

  He looked away embarrassedly, “I… I left my laptop bag in your flat. I couldn’t call you, so I figured I’d just wait out the front until you got back.”

  I felt like the absolute worst person in that moment, like I’d left a puppy chained outside. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  He nodded, “Yeah, it was just a day, I’m sure I can catch up.”

  “Don’t you have a desktop?”

  “No, never saw the point in having one. Laptop works fine, and if I ever need the added power there’s work or the internet café around the corner.”

  Sometimes I forgot that I’d struck pretty lucky with having that bit of a bonus after I’d sold the house. It wasn’t like the government was giving out incentives to buy desktops, people could afford what they could afford, and when I got reminded of that I felt like a pompous rich twat.

  “Have you at least had dinner?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “You?”

  “No, but I know this great Chinese place that delivers.” I said with a smile.

  Gerald smiled back, “Sounds great.”

  “And maybe after we can do some questing together? Maybe run a few dungeons and make up for the time that you lost today?”

  His smile widened, “That would fantastic, only if you have the time though.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you got me breakfast and literally carried me in from the cold, it’s the least I can I do.” I was acting as if this was all for his benefit and that it had nothing to do with the fact that I genuinely wanted to spend time with him.

  He was good fun to have around, and we hadn’t ever played just the two of us, it’d always been this chaotic sort of pile of death and confusion. I’d barge through the dungeon’s doors, roaring fire everywhere, while he struggled to keep everyone who followed me alive.

  This time we’d have to work together though, really watch each other’s backs, I wasn’t a tank anymore, and he had no one to cover him while he funnelled his energy and focus onto making sure none of us got ourselves killed. It was going to be like playing an entirely different game.

  Which was what I actually wanted to do, yes, that’s the excuse I’m going with. I wanted to experience a new type of gameplay, and I totally didn’t care about eating ramen and fried rice with Gerald and having genuine conversations.

  No.

  That would be lame.

  Armelia: Chapter 8

  “-h.” I finished as my brain finally registered where I was.

  The druids around the table nodded, “You’re most welcome. I can’t tell yo
u how great it is to have you back,” the younger man said, finally being identified as Dillop Grat, “it means we can finally continue our quest.”

  The bald one, labelled as Joile Grat, shook his head, “She’s only just returned to us brother, we shouldn’t put too much pressure on her.”

  “Oh shush,” Berta Goldhome said, whipping her hair back behind her neck, “I’m sure she can handle it. Us girls are really good at bouncing back, isn’t that right?” she asked, turning to me.

  There wasn’t really the option to ask her not to group me in with her, so I nodded, “Sure, but I’d have to hear more about this quest before I agree to anything, for example, will my friend be able to accompany us?” I asked as I pointed to the door where Grand Gerry the Good was just stepping in.

  “Hello Armelia,” the handsome battlemage said as he approached the table, his glorious earthy coloured cape and robes billowing as he moved, “I see you have guests, is it a bad time?”

  I shook my head, “Not at all, sit, sit.”

  Gerry found an empty stool and brought it over to sit with us while the druids made seething sounds that we both ignored, “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “It’s just…” Berta started.

  “It’s just that we reserved this table for druids only.” Joile finished.

  I made a face, “You mean to tell me that the innkeeper said that this table was specifically reserved for you druids?”

  Dillop shook his head, “No, no, no. Reserved for us druids.” he said as if the distinction mattered.

  “Right.” I said, turning on my stool, to face the bar where the innkeeper was tending some patrons, the name Hilda Ryter appearing next to her head, “Hilda!” I cried, “Hilda? Do you mind if non-druids sit here?”

  As expected, she didn’t respond, and I spun back around, “It would seem she doesn’t care. Now, what’s this quest of yours?”

  Joile looked uncertainly at Gerry, “I don’t know if I should be talking about Ministry of Druidic Affairs in the presence of a non-member.”

  “Well, I don’t remember being added into the MoDA, so does that mean I’m not a member?”

  “Of course not, I-”

  “Then I see no reason why we should discriminate against a fellow brother of the magical arts. So, again, if you wouldn’t mind, keeping in mind that I don’t care if you do, what is the quest?”

  Joile opened his mouth a few times to speak but eventually gave up and diverted the attention to Dillop.

  +1 Speech Skill.

  Progress: 5/100.

  +20 XP.

  Progress: 150/1000.

  You have unspent Skill Points, open the Skills Menu to upgrade your Attributes!

  I was glad for the reminder, but getting given them in the middle of a conversation had not been helpful seeing as the excited fanfare all but blocked out Dillop’s description of the mission.

  “-nd that’s where we’ll fight the Skeleton King and take the Sceptre of Julkaboobu back for the Ministry of Druidic Affairs.”

  Mission Started: The Sceptre of Julkaboobu.

  Objective added: Go to Dead Man’s Rest.

  “Sceptre of what now? Where are you going?” I asked as the druids got up and left without saying another word.

  “Didn’t you hear him? They’re going to meet us at Dead Man’s Rest.” Grand Gerry confirmed.

  “Ah, right, yes. Sounds like fun, you up for it?”

  Gerry nodded, “Yeah, plus, I don’t know if you remember, but these first few quests have some pretty crazy loot. Never done this one though…”

  “Me either, and yeah.” I said as we got to our feet and made for the door, “I reckon it’s to hook the other players in, you know the ones in the States? I’m sure that when they first did one of these they’d think they’d become the richest player in the game.”

  “Same thing with casinos, right? Have the smaller but more frequent winning machines at the front.”

  “Exactly, except they have nothing to lose.” The clarification seemed necessary, not because I thought Gerry didn’t understand, but because I wanted everyone else in the immediate vicinity to know that this wasn’t just a game to us.

  Gerry looked around confusedly for a while before kicking the dirt in anger, “Damnit! I think I left my horse somewhere.”

  I climbed up on Shadow-Stal and shrugged, “Why not just summon him?”

  “Because he wasn’t really my horse,” he said condescendingly for some reason, “I stole him from some stables.”

  “Really, how long ago?”

  “Three, four years ago.” he said, still looking around the tiny town as if he’d missed it somewhere.

  “You have been riding a stolen horse for four years!? Why not just buy one? Or get one from one the dozens of quests?”

  He looked at me angrily, with maybe just a hint of embarrassment in there, “I’m not going to buy a horse, that’s like half a week’s rent! And, well, maybe I went through all the quest ones and got them stuck in ravines.”

  “Then stop going over ravines! Seriously, how stupid do you have to- you know what? Whatever, climb up.”

  Shadow-Stal gave me an unsure look and then returned to looking at the dirt in front of him.

  “No, I’ll make my own way, I’ll just weigh down your horse.”

  “And if you don’t get on I’ll be stuck waiting for you, just get on and shut up. Also, before you ask, no, you may not take the reins.”

  Shadow-Stal nodded and gave an approving snort.

  “Wasn’t going to ask.” Gerry said as he climbed up behind me.

  I started toward the exit out of town on the opposite side to where I’d come in, and got half a mile out before Gerry decided to open his mouth again, “Hey, do you think you should get some arrows from the store?”

  “You know what Grand Gerry the Good? Fuck you.”

  Armelia: Chapter 9

  “Good day Hilbert,” I said as I entered the store with a very recently scolded Gerry in close tow, “I hear you might have some arrows?”

  Hilbert nodded, “That I do,” he said, producing a quiver of fifty arrows and putting them on the bench in front of him, “five gold a piece.”

  “Five gold? What in Gods’ name are they made of? Mithril?”

  The shopkeeper gave me an odd look, “I’m afraid I haven’t heard of this material, but no, they’re simple steel.”

  “Then why are they five gold?”

  Hilbert smiled broadly, “Because I’m the only one for twenty miles that sells them.”

  “Ah, right.” I said, returning his smile, “Very clever, kill him.”

  “Pardon?” Gerry asked.

  “Kill him, all I’ve got is the pig sticker,” I said as I pulled out my knife, “fireball his arse so we can get on with this.”

  “I don’t think I- … How do you think I got ‘the Good’ in my name? Because I can tell you right now it had nothing to do with incinerating poor, unthinking store clerks.”

  “But he’s an arse!” I said, pointing at Hilbert’s face as he continued to smile and wait for me to buy his overpriced arrows.

  Gerry wouldn’t budge though, he just gave me his puppy dog eyes, “Ugh, fine. Give me all fifty you twat.”

  Hilbert smiled, “Brilliant that’ll be 250 gold.”

  -250 gold.

  250 gold.

  Received 50 Steel Arrows: Damage: 3.

  Equipped Steel Arrows.

  Equipped Armelia’s Long Bow.

  I spun around and looked at Gerry who, like Hilbert, was absolutely beaming, “Good for you,” I said, “you’ve removed one of the few things I enjoy; killing.

  Gerry shrugged, “Maybe Daemion did, but do you really think the tree hugging druid Armelia does?”

  “You know what? You’re right.” I said as I started to disrobe.

  “Whaaat are you doin?”

  “I’m changing into something a bit more appropriate, pervert.”

  Dropped Purple Dress.

&nbs
p; Equipped Student Druid Robes.

  “They look nice, very student of the ancient marijuana tree.”

  “Shut up, you’re the hippy.” I said as we left the store.

  “I’m the hippy? I’m a battlemage, I cast powerful spells that level structures, you grow trees.”

  I chuckled, “You’ll be eating those words when I show you what I did to a troll. Maybe later though, for now it’s off on the quest to… Oh shit! I should probably use those SPs.”

  “Heh, yeah, you want me to ride while you do that?”

  I looked at Shadow-Stal who, though obviously not looking forward to the idea, seemed to be accepting of my command, “Yeah, sure, but if you get him stuck in a ravine I swear I’ll strangle you with my headphones.”

  Gerry smiled cheekily as he climbed up into position to ride and then pulled me up, “No you won’t. Hippy.”

  Armelia: Chapter 10

  HP upgraded!

  HP: 1400/1400.

  Attributes upgraded!

  24 Strength

  24 Dexterity

  30 Intelligence

  17 Wisdom

  “Did you know that you get three SPs in Wisdom when you level up?” I asked as Dead Man’s Rest slowly came into view through the trees that Shadow-Stal was automatically trotting around, crushing the dead leaves under his hoofs.

  Gerry nodded, “Yeah, all magic classes do. Don’t daemons?”

  “No, we, they, get one each in Strength and Dexterity.”

  “That seems like a bit of a raw deal, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged, “Maybe, but they do get those kick arse Hellish spells and abilities, you know, like Hellish Smite?” I teased.

  “Har-di-freakin-har.”

  Dead Man’s Rest discovered.

  Journal entry made.

  Progress made in mission: The Sceptre of Julkaboobu.

  Objective completed: Go to Dead Man’s Rest.

  Objective added: Explore Dead Man’s Rest with the Druids and Find the Skeleton King.