by Adam Drake
“At least I finished the quest,” he said, trying to make the best of it.
Then he noticed a large rock on the floor shoved up against the chamber wall. Looking closer he could see many scratch marks on its surface as if the Rat Queen had been using it to sharpen its claws.
Curious, he moved the rock to one side.
It revealed a little nook filled with a pile of items.
“Ah, Bingo!” Rob said. He knew there had to be some treasure about.
First, there was a small money bag with 10 Gold Pieces, 30 Silver Pieces, and 65 Copper Pieces. He added his one copper piece he'd gotten from the goblin to it and grinned. Money was good. Money was always good.
Next was a gem of some kind, about the size of his thumb. He turned it so its many facets played with the light.
You have taken an item: Small Emerald.
Value: 25 Gold Pieces.
Then there were a pair of thick brown gloves.
You have taken an item: Leather Gloves of Strength
Durability: 18/20
Armor: 2
+1 Strength
Value: 17 Gold Pieces
Rob hooted in surprise. This was exactly what he needed. He slid them on and checked his strength stat.
Strength: 13 (12 Base)
Two more points and he could use his sword.
You have taken and item: Dagger of Sharpness
Durability: 25/25
Damage: 2-6
+2 Damage
Value: 3 Gold Pieces
He replaced the rusty dagger on his hip with the new one.
Finally, there were two Major Potions of Healing and one Major Potion of Restore Mana, all of which he put in his bag.
The nook looked empty until Rob spotted a piece of parchment jammed into a crack. He careful pulled it out and noticed writing on one side.
'The bastards will never find it! Why share all the knowledge when I can keep it for myself? These scrolls must be hidden for safekeeping for when I am ready to learn their secrets.'
At the bottom of the parchment was a primitive map of the valley which showed an 'X' mark at the edge of the Western Mountains.
Suddenly, the parchment crumbled away in his hands.
You have found a quest: 'Secret Knowledge'
Locate the secret cache of spell scrolls hidden somewhere in the valley.
Reward: 3 Spell Scrolls
“Holy cow!” Rob said, eyes wide with delight. This was exactly what he hoped for. Maybe one of them would be a Healing spell.
Curious, he checked his map, and sure enough there was a new mark near the Western Mountains. But instead of an X it was a question mark.
Whatever. It looked like he'd have to search the area. Fine by him.
One final check of the nook revealed it was empty. He then went back down the tunnel to the Rat Queen's corpse. Several rats were there, but they ran outside at his approach.
It was still stewing away in the acid puddle. He didn't want to try to turn it over and check for loot. But then he noticed an object on top of its chest. He picked it up.
You have taken an item: Giant Rat Spleen
This can be used as an ingredient for high level potions.
Value: 5 Gold Pieces.
Huh, okay, Rob thought. At least it was worth something. He stuffed it in a bag and stepped outside.
The rain had stopped, and the clouds were dissipating. It looked to be late afternoon, with the sun hanging low in the sky.
Half naked, but feeling strangely satisfied, Rob headed west through the swamp to find the road.
Time to go home.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He came upon the road sooner than he expected.
Stretching north and south as far as he could see, its wet surface was covered in mud and puddles. No one else was around.
Good, he thought. It would save him having to explain why there is a half-naked king stumbling along. He looked down at his pants. The left pant leg was completely missing, and the right looked no better. He scratched at his backside and wondered if he was exposing more than he should.
Although he couldn't see the Eastern Mountains due to the clouds, the Western ones towered proudly in the distance. At their base was a vast green apron of forest. Rob didn't doubt that given the number of quests he was accumulating that he would end up in those mountains at some point. And maybe beyond them.
As he gazed at the magnificent vista, he spotted a large bird flying in the distance. It flapped long wings and scudded past, high above the trees.
Rob did a double take and squinted.
He couldn't make out much detail, but he could tell that there was something very different about it. Its tail was unusually long and hung low as it flew. Also, its head was oddly shaped. Sort of like a crocodile's.
Then it was gone, vanishing into the clouds.
Rob stared at the point it had disappeared, a prickling sensation running up his spine. Did he just see a dragon?
Swallowing hard, he turned north and walked along the road with a quickened pace.
He guessed it made sense that dragons would be in a fantasy game. But as he cast glances back toward the mountains, he found himself not wanting to see it ever again.
Not unless he was armed with a bazooka.
Soon he came to the ruins of Breddin's farmstead. The wagon still sat abandoned in the middle of the road. No one had yet come to claim it.
The barn was still in shambles and the smoke had long died out from the debris of the house. He felt a tremendous sense of guilt. This had been Breddin's home and now it was gone. All because he couldn't get his act together.
The fight with the goblins felt like it happened ages ago, not just that morning. Since then Rob had done a lot of fighting and bleeding and screaming and running. Adventuring really messed with a person's sense of time.
Leaving the sad tableau behind, he continued north. He had a little money now, and he resolved to help pay for a new house and barn for Breddin and his wife. He wondered if there was also enough to build something proper for Fumi to cook in. His concept of value for construction materials and labor were limited. In the real world, things like that were soul-crushingly expensive. He hoped that it wasn't the same here.
As he came around the final bend, he saw Castle Hill. Its grass was a deep earthy green thanks to all the rain. He could picture a castle up there, large and imperious, and he wondered what his would look like once it was finished.
And what was up with that? The cornerstone was set, the materials were there to be used. He recalled Saif mentioning something about needing laborers and decided to follow up with the Sage on it.
It would be a hell of a feeling to be able to return to your beautiful castle after a long day of questing.
He marched through the mud into the main camp. Again, he was struck with how empty it was. Hadn't other people returned to the kingdom?
His eyes drifted up to the top of Castle Hill. No one was there, but he could feel something. Like he was being gently tugged toward it with invisible strings. Was that the indication it was time to level up?
With a glance around the quiet camp, Rob marched up the hill. After he finished, he would change his clothes at his manor. He couldn't have his subjects seeing him like this, anyway. Then he'd talk to Saif and the others. He had subjects now, people who counted on him. The least he could do was speak to some of them.
And now that he had money, maybe there was a way to buy some decent food. No more rats. He never wanted to see one ever again whether on his plate or jumping for his throat.
As he crested the hill, he saw the cornerstone in its hole. Like before he placed his hand on its surface. Nothing happened.
Strange. Last time the prompt appeared as soon as he'd touched it.
He did it again. Still nothing. He tried to remember what happened before and recalled feeling the warmth from the stone.
On a hunch, he removed his glove and placed his hand again. This time a pr
ompt appeared.
Congratulations! Based on your incredible adventures and grand accomplishments, your kingdom is now ready to progress to the next level!
Raise your kingdom to level three?
Accept or Decline?
For a moment, Rob wondered what would happen if he declined. Might it end the game?
Figuring it was worth a shot, he said, “I decline.”
The prompt vanished, but nothing happened. He looked around not surprised he was still there.
It couldn't have been that easy, he thought as he repeated the process again. This time, when asked, he said, “I accept.”
Congratulations! Your kingdom is now at level three!
He stood and gazed about. Nothing had changed. He looked down at all the neatly stacked stone blocks and building materials resting at the northern side of the hill. They looked the same, too. He'd hoped there would be even more.
The main camp still sat like a dreary reminder of how pathetic his kingdom really was.
Rob sighed. He suspected that if there were to be any changes, they'd be up to him to facilitate. Feeling his headache returning, he noticed that, despite the fast approaching night, there were no lights on down below. He assumed there would be at least fires started in several of the dwellings to chase away the growing cold.
The sun finally vanished behind the mountains. He was grateful that, in this world, it still set in the west.
Night came quickly, plunging his newly minted level three kingdom into darkness. Rob's light spell was still active, but he didn't notice. Instead of enjoying its presence he was focused on the camp. It was completely dark. No lights. Nothing.
Okay, he thought. Something was wrong.
He moved down the hillside as quickly as he could manage in the wet grass. At the camp's center clearing he shouted. “Hello! Hello!”
No one answered.
He went over to Fumi's lean-to, but the cook wasn't there.
What the hell was going on?
He ran through the camp, searching every structure and mud building. Calling over and over, but didn't get a single response. Panic began to set in.
With all the buildings in the camp checked he was struck with a thought and ran around the hill to his manor. Maybe Saif was there, waiting to offer a simple explanation. But when he saw his shack without lights in its little windows, he knew. He burst inside and his heart sunk. No Saif. Even the Sage's little quarters, with its sad little cot and mouldy pillow, was empty.
Bewildered, he ran back up the hill, panting heavily, on the verge of passing out.
At the top he looked around for any sign of light. Not just a fire, but the light spell each person could cast.
But there was nothing.
No Saif, no Jace, no Fumi.
No one.
For several minutes he just stood and waited, hoping beyond hope that someone would appear.
As he waited, his light spell finally timed out, and he was plunged into darkness.
A crush of stars mantled the night sky. The outline of the world below was as featureless as an ocean of black ink.
No light. No people.
He was alone.
A terrifying realization crept over him, making him feel hollow and cold.
His kingdom was gone.
Rob's Odyssey Continues In
Kingdom Level Three
Kingdom Level Three
What is a king without a kingdom?
When every citizen of Anika suddenly vanishes without a trace, Rob finds himself completely alone in his little kingdom. He must locate his people and quick, or risk losing even more.
Armed only with low level skills and crummy gear he must travel into the Western Mountains where troglodytes skulk in dark tunnels and dragons rule the sky.
But there's one vital weapon he needs to help in his quest, and it will take a tremendous act of courage to acquire.
Magic.
PROLOGUE
“We should kill them all.”
Prenick looked up from the numbers list he'd been working on in mild surprise. “Why do you say that?”
Wesher, his second in command, said, “Because they're not worth it. All the effort we put into capturing them. All the money invested.” He shook his head in frustration, the glow lights of the cave shining off the white skin of his bald scalp. “All the warriors we've lost.”
“Oh, I wouldn't say they're not worth it,” Prenick said, dropping his quill onto the list. The need to keep accurate records was a boring necessity he wished he could pass off to one of his subordinates. Numbers always gave him a headache. “We're not even close to capacity for a return trip, yet. If we start killing them off, we'd end up staying longer.”
Wesher frowned and turned to look over the many cages that filled the cavern. “They're just so... weak. I don't expect many to survive the hike let alone fetch a minimum bid. I fear this entire trip will be a loss.”
Prenick stood up from his stool and stretched. He'd been working the figures for hours and had to begrudge Wesher's assessment of the situation. It wasn't going well. But then, trading in slaves had always been a high risk, high reward endeavour. “It will only be a loss if we go back empty-handed,” he said. “Besides, we're not finished. Maybe the raid will turn up a few standouts. You never know.”
“I wish I had your optimism,” Wesher said. “But the gods have not been kind to us. With the Trogs messing with our route and those cursed walls trapping us here, you have to consider that maybe this foray might not have been worth starting at all.”
Again, Prenick couldn't argue. Ever since they'd left the Blighted Wastes with the intent of reaching this valley, things had not gone well. The damned troglodytes demanded such an exorbitant sum to use their caves, Prenick was forced to take his crew over the mountains, rather than through them. This added days to their timetable, sapping their supplies. Then, once they finally arrived and begun scouting the valley for potential targets, huge walls appeared, trapping them here for several weeks beyond the time he'd allotted.
The appearance of the walls unnerved his crew, not that he could blame them. In all his days of raiding, he'd never seen the like before. But he needed to keep a brave face despite the bizarre situation. If the crew leader lost his head, then the crew risked collapse. Not an ideal situation to have, so far from home.
Prenick stood next to Wesher, and surveyed the cages. Most were full, but not all. Those that they'd captured were meek and easily cowed. Stealing them away from their homes was too easy. Keeping them subdued and imprisoned was even easier. For a stock worthy of the great slave markets of the Blighted Wastes, they lacked in quality. But these slaves were all he and his crew had.
“Raiding was never meant to be an easy job,” Prenick said, keeping his tone light. He didn't want to sound condescending. Wesher was a good slaver and would one day lead his own crews. A welcome prospect for Prenick, who considered himself close to retirement. As his sponsor, he would retain a sizeable portion of any profits the younger slaver made. “Killing off the stock, even as meager as these, would only set us back.”
Wesher glared down at the humans shivering in their cages, his hand fingering the shock stick at his side. “I know you're right. I'm just frustrated. I expected more.”
Prenick knew what Wesher was really upset about. They'd lost two warriors crossing the mountains to a dragon, one of whom had been Wesher's kin. But such was the risk of the job. “All these raids come at great cost, both in the investment and the attempt. It's been like that for generations of the pech. Always will be. But purging our existing inventory will make that cost greater.”
The younger slaver yearned for some kind of vengeance for the loss of his kin, but killing your own slaves was not the way to do it. If true revenge was what Wesher wanted, then he'd have to go hunting dragons, and on his own time.
Prenick clapped Wesher on the shoulder. “Don't fret. I sense the gods may soon come around and grant us the success we deserve.�
�
Wesher sighed and visibly relaxed, the tension going out of his shoulders. “Fighters for the pits and females for the harems?”
Both of them laughed at this old slaver's saying. The two prizes which fetched the highest bids were warriors and women. The better the quality, the better the final price. But even the low quality slaves captured from this valley would still sell.
