by Adam Drake
The group backed away, but the Sage stood firm, a look of grim determination on his face. Saif cast lightning several times ignoring the approaching, heaving ooze. The thing was only a few paces away from him.
Prenick felt compelled to pull the human away, not wanting to lose such a valuable slave.
But he didn't have to. With a final burst of lightning the ooze went still, its entire body a shrinking black mass of dead cracking rock.
Saif sighed and lowered his hands, sweat dripping from his face.
“Well done,” Prenick said and jabbed the Sage in the back with his stun stick.
The little man fell to the tunnel floor, convulsing. Pech moved forward to bind his arms, removing the crit-bracelet and amulets, then slipping the sapping collar to his throat.
“You've helped speed your people's journey to the slave markets, magic-man,” Prenick said with a sadistic grin. “They should thank you.”
Dorben said, “Break camp?”
“Yes,” Prenick said. “We have all we can get from here. And now that the tunnel is clear we can make our way through the mountain before the trogs catch on.”
As Saif was being dragged to his feet, he recovered enough from the stun to say, “He'll stop you! He'll kill you all for this!”
Prenick chuckled. “Who? This Robert Barron?” He leaned close to leer in the human's face. Tormenting new slaves was always a joy.
“I ask you, magic-man,” Prenick said with a grin. “If this king of yours is so great, then where is he now?”
CHAPTER ONE
Robert woke suddenly from a fitful slumber. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and sat up, squinting against the morning sun to look around.
He was still on top of Castle Hill, in the same spot he'd sat for most of the night, its high green grass heavy with dew. His neck ached from sleeping against the cornerstone, its magical warmth had kept him from catching a chill.
For several moments he pondered a dream which had slipped away from his mind. Another nightmare? He couldn't recall, nor did he want to. A look around the valley vista told him he was in one.
With a groaning effort he stood and stretched. His bare arms and legs were covered with dried mud, his clothes hanging in tatters. He'd need to change, but into what? There were the clothes from the tutorial island he'd arrived with. Those would have to do until he could find replacements. His leather jacket had dissolved fighting the rat-queen, the shirt underneath ripped.
He stared down at the remnants of his pants, which looked like the medieval version of Daisy-Duke shorts. “I don't need to be seen like this,” he said, his voice hoarse from sleep. Of course, there was no one around to see him in this embarrassing state, anyway.
The pathetic camp at the foot of the hill was still quiet. The morning daylight made it appear even more abandoned.
No, not abandoned. His people didn't leave it of their on volition. Something had happened to them while he was away. He could feel it.
On a whim, he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Hello! Is anybody there?” His voice echoed faintly, but there was no answer. Instead, all which could be heard was the rustling of the trees in the wind below.
He didn't know how long he stayed up the previous night, but it had been for quite a while. He hadn't bothered to use his Light spell. Instead, he resolved to sit quietly in the darkness, hoping to catch a flicker of light anywhere in the valley. None came.
Anger had kept him awake. Anger at the situation he now found himself in. After such a trying day things didn't improve when he returned. They'd gotten worse. As if someone was purposely messing with him, trying to make him crack. The gods, perhaps.
But he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He was past feeling sorry for himself at this point. Enough crap had happened to harden his resolve. This was just another challenge put before him on the path to the next Kingdom level. One he would overcome. He had to.
Standing on the hilltop, he slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in every detail of the surrounding valley.
Below was the sad camp, the mud between its little buildings glistened with puddles under the sun. Bits of loose canvas swayed in the wind and a shutter or door banged open and closed, over and over. Beyond, to the east, was a vast verdant forest that stretched away like a green ocean to meet the first line of rolling hills at the foot of the Eastern mountains. Unlike the clear sky above him, clouds gathered at the mountain peaks, pulling away from them like torn cotton.
To the south he could see the road meander from the camp into the trees, then to emerge again further away. From here he could barely make out the northern edge of the swamp. This would make a good vantage point to see an approaching army, maybe from a battlement or tower. If his castle finally got built that is.
The lack of a castle was only a delay, the lack of people only a setback. Both problems could be fixed. Got to think positive.
To the west, at the foot of the hill was a wide grassy field, pockmarked with muddy puddles, some large enough to be considered lakes. The forest line crowded up against the field as if on the verge of bursting forth, like the trees were eager for the chance to fill the open space. The greenery formed a living blanket that extended to the Western mountains, which appeared taller, and more menacing than their eastern cousins.
Looking north, Rob could just make out the edges of the cliffs which buttressed the shore of the ocean. Only a tiny sliver of twinkling water could be seen from the hill. Again, a castle might give a better vantage point to see any approaching ships.
This was his valley, his kingdom, and the realization made him shudder. He was responsible for all this, and more. Just him. Could he really do it?
Not without people, he couldn't. No matter how great an adventurer he became, without any subjects his Kingdom's level progression would be stunted, if not halted all together. He didn't need Saif to tell him that. There were rules to this game, and he knew that the longer he went without a populace the greater the risk something bad would happen.
So where were his people?
With a heavy sigh, he picked up the gear he'd removed the night before to sleep better. He donned his helmet, then inspected his shield. Its front spiked surface was marred from the rat-queen's acidic vomit, but was still whole. He slung his backpack over one shoulder, the sound of the weapons inside clinking loudly. Then, double checking to ensure his axe was still at his belt, he descended the hill toward the camp, careful not to slip on the wet grass.
Although the rain had long stopped, the mud was fresh and treacherous. Entering the camp, he carefully picked his way through its muddy paths to the center circle where a deep pond had formed.
He glanced around at the buildings and slipshod structures. “Hello!” he shouted, expecting nothing, and getting it. What could have possibly happened to them? Did they all decide that he wasn't worthy of being their king, and left? If so, where could they have gone? The only logical directions were north and south along the road. South would lead to the trading post, and north to the sea.
But that didn't make any sense. Why leave? And to where? Another kingdom? At the very least, he would have expected Saif to remain if the others had chosen to go.
He shook his head. Everyone deciding to leave wasn't likely if at all. Which left only one possibility.
They'd been taken.
But by whom, and to where? He needed to find some sort of clue.
As he'd done the evening before, he entered Fumi's little hut. Although meager in its furnishings it didn't look as if anything was amiss to his untrained eye. The only table was deeply marred from the cutting of her cleaver. He spotted a cupboard and opened it, only to jump back in alarm.
Long strips of flesh hung by hooks inside. As he recovered from the sudden sight of them, he recognized them to be cooked meat of some kind. They were too long and big to be from rats. He took one down.
You have taken an item: Trench Lizard Meat (cooked)
Value: 1 co
pper piece
Curious, he sniffed at the meat. It didn't smell bad at all. His stomach suddenly grumbled.
Carefully, he bit a small piece off and chewed. It didn't taste awful. In fact, it was more flavourful than he expected. Shrugging, he took a bigger bite. When he didn't keel over, or throw up, he ate more of it.
Not bad at all, he thought. He removed the other strips from their hooks and placed them in one of his bags of holding.
As he chewed he wandered around the camp, looking for any clues. When he'd raced through the buildings the night before, it was in a mad panic to locate anyone, not for hints as to their demise.
In several buildings he found personal belongings, clothes and knickknacks brought by folks who returned after the walls vanished. Many of the items appeared to be personal, yet here they sat. Whatever happened, it wasn't something that allowed them to pack for the trip.
He emerged back onto the muddy road, feeling deflated. If they'd been taken it could have been in any direction. It was daunting to think of having to search the entire valley, but if that was what he had to do, so be it. The challenge would be met. Then the steps along his path to freedom could resume.
Not certain where to go, he finally headed north to the ocean. It was possible they could've been taken by ship. Chewing on trench lizard, he followed the road.
It didn't take long to come across a wide swath of trees which had been cut down, along the east side of the road.
This was Jace, he thought, and left the road to investigate. He picked his way through the stumps and felled trees which littered the ground. When he reached the very edge of the field Jace had created he stopped. There was nothing here, save for the forest which crowded around him.
He called Jace's name several times, his voice reverberating through the trees. But the forest was still as if in mourning for its dead.
There wasn't an axe, or waterskin or anything to indicate Jace was returning to this spot. Maybe he heard something at the main camp, and, axe in hand, went to confront it.
A pang of sorrow suddenly played at Rob's heart. He knew that if the camp was attacked, the big woodcutter would have fought to defend it. One man against... what? Was he dead? Without the evidence of a body, though, he held out on the hope Jace was still alive. If there had been a fight back at the camp, there were no signs of it; no bodies or blood.
Frowning in thought, he returned to walk up the road. He soon emerged from the trees into the large field he'd traveled through before, when he'd arrived.
A hundred paces to the west the forest continued onward to wrap around the edge of the mountains. To the east the grassy field shimmered with the wind, which went almost all the way to foot of the Eastern mountains. Occasionally, the field was marred by rocky hills, like desolate islands trapped within an emerald sea. The ground rose north-eastward to end at a long cliff which overlooked the water beyond.
Rob continued along the road until it angled downward between hills on either side. As he stomped along his eyes darted everywhere, looking for any indication his people had gone this way.
When he arrived at the ocean, he stopped to look around. The rock-strewn shore stretched out to his right, lorded over by the high cliffs above. To his left, the hillside had gradually morphed into a large rocky escarpment which stretched out a short distant into the surf. The little dock sat empty here, its surface warped from neglect. The sound of the surf and crashing waves was almost deafening.
He looked out to the ocean. Other than the violent waves which crashed about and beat at the shoreline, he couldn't see anything. No boats, no people. A tiny brown dot occasionally peeked out between the waves, and the sight of it made him shiver. The tutorial island.
Really doubt they went out there, he thought as he turned away to inspect the shore. As he picked his way through the rocks, he tried to find any footprints or maybe imprints of landing boats in the sand. After several dozen paces he stopped, finding nothing. He gazed down the rest of the shore and figured it wasn't worth walking all the way down. If his people were taken from this point, it would have happened near the pathway.
As he returned to the dock, he noticed something hanging from one of its moorings. He quickly ran over, his heart pounding with excitement. But this feeling vanished when he recognized the object to just be Erwin's fishing net.
Frustrated, he walked onto the dock, mindful of its uneven surface.
What was wrong with this? He thought, testing its boards with his weight.
A message appeared.
Dock Menu
Upgrade Dock (Dock Master required)
Repair Dock (Dock Master required)
Create Basic Shipyard (Ship Builder required)
Demolish Dock
Option?
By now, he was past being surprised at sudden messages and menus. Although he didn't think he should waste time with this one, he felt compelled to look it over.
Strangely, the first two options were grayed out, and he assumed it had to do with Erwin not being present. Rob wondered where he'd find a ship builder for the third option and how much they'd cost to hire. In fact, he was clueless as to the cost of all three options since trying to select them didn't bring up any information. When he asked aloud, nothing happened.
Fine, he thought. No dock work or shipyard today.
The fourth option, to demolish the dock, was more prominent, and he selected it on a whim.
Do you wish to demolish this dock?
Note: All construction materials will be lost.
Y/N?
Although he didn't think the decrepit looking dock was serving any purpose at the moment, destroying it was pointless. But why was it an option to begin with? He decided to add that to the long list of questions he'd ask Saif, if he ever found the Sage, again.
He selected no and gave the beach a final look. There was absolutely no signs that boats or people had been here. The few open spots of sand were unblemished and the sand around the dock only had his own boot prints. This place was a dead end. So where to next?
He slowly trudged up the path, retracing his steps back to camp. The fact they'd not left by sea was a relief. Even if he knew where they went he would be unable to follow without a ship of his own.
Back at the top of the path he impulsively turned east and walked through the field. The grass was tall, slapping against his bare knees as he walked, idly heading toward the closest hill. The wind here was strong, buffeting him from all directions. The noise drowned out any sound of the ocean past the cliff line in the distance.
He crested the hill and stopped to look around. Ahead was more grass and more little hills nearly as far as he could see. In the distance, a thin strip of forest lined the bottom apron of a mountain. He could plainly see there weren't any people about.
Well, that makes for one section of the valley checked. Now to go through a hundred others.
But as he turned to go back to the road, something caught his eye a little south from his position.
There was another rumpled line of hills capped by bushes and small trees. Nestled in a depression between them was a cave.
As he squinted against the morning sun, he realized it wasn't really a cave, but some sort of entrance constructed of stone.
“Well, that's not ominous,” Rob said, eyeing the darkness of the entrance. Based on his experience so far, bad things came from going into dark places.
He highly doubted all his people were crowded inside that place, but now he had to check it out or it would play on his conscious until he finally did.
“Okay, fine,” he said as he unslung his Axe of Blood and walked down the hill.
He didn't want any surprises, so he nixed the idea of circling around up beside the entrance. Instead, he walked straight on toward its yawning mouth. If something was going to pop out of there, he wanted to see it coming.
As he got closer, he could see details within. It wasn't a cave or dungeon, but an alcove set into the hillside. Closer st
ill, and the morning light allowed him to see an object just inside the entrance. It looked like a table or mural of some sort.
Once he was at the entryway itself, he could see the alcove had been shaped into a small chamber no bigger than his manor house. After a few moments hesitation, he stuck his head inside for a better look.
A large wide circle of stone took up most of the space within. It was tilted at an angle, like an artist's table. The light outside easily revealed what was carved across its surface.
Rob caught his breath as he recognized what it was. A dragon.
But not any dragon.
This was a picture of the dragon that appeared on the monitors back at the office. A stylized picture of the very dragon which had brought him to this world.
