Tinker, Tailor, Giant, Dwarf ( LitRPG Series): Difficulty:Legendary Book 2

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Tinker, Tailor, Giant, Dwarf ( LitRPG Series): Difficulty:Legendary Book 2 Page 15

by Gregg Horlock


  Another wave of light flashed through the dungeon. The Trogologons shrieked and reared back. I scanned one of them and found that its HP had dropped to just a quarter now.

  One Trogologon, slightly bigger than the rest, stopped whispering. The others followed suit, and I saw them move their heads as if they were glancing around. The taller one stood up, and I saw that when the creatures weren’t hunched over they reached almost six feet tall. This made them a much more terrifying prospect.

  They started to move in on us with their arms outstretched. On the ends of their fingers they had claws that looked sharp enough to slice through skin.

  “One more wave of light,” I told Feidan.

  “I don’t have enough mana.”

  Smoglar swung another blow at me, this time catching my shoulder and sending pain through me. Brian stepped forward, grabbed his friend, and restrained him. Smoglar struggled in the giant’s grasp, but he couldn’t move.

  We needed light. I had bombs in my inventory, but I knew the brief flash an explosion would give wouldn’t be enough. There had to be something else I could do.

  Smoglar struggled in Brian’s grasp and tried to claw at his eyes. Brian released him. Then, without a seconds pause, he hit his friend on the head and knocked him out cold.

  The light above us started to fade now, and the Trogologons crept in, slick heads bowed down, claws outstretched. Their HP was low, but there were too many of them, and they were all a high enough level that their attacks would hurt us.

  I opened my inventory. I didn’t have anything that could directly cause a flash of sustained light, but I had something else. I dissembled one of my bombs and held the gunpowder in my hands. As the creatures advanced on us, I scattered it on the floor. Smoglar stirred and grunted as he tried to get up. As one of the creatures swiped at Feidan, I lit the powder and filled the tunnels with a steady flame.

  The Trogologons reared back. Some screeched in pain, and I watched as their health bars dropped to just a fraction.

  “Let’s finish them,” I said.

  I equipped my dagger. Brian swung his hatchet at the Trogologon closest to him, and it fell onto the floor and shrieked in pain. Smoglar stood up. His eyes seemed to be focussed again. He gripped his axe clumsily in one hand and started to fight.

  The tunnels filled with the sound of blades meeting flesh and the cries of pain as the Trogologons were drained of their health. I struck my dagger blindly at any creatures that came my way. More than once I felt claws dig into my skin and I grunted as my health dropped, but I didn’t stop. One by one the creatures died until soon, we were left alone in the tunnels.

  We stopped for a while to catch our breath. Smoglar seemed to have no memory of what had happened to him.

  “Sorry I had to hit you,” said Brian.

  Smoglar looked at him quizzically. “Is that why I’ve got a banging headache?”

  “They confused you when they started whispering,” I said. “We need to be careful.”

  We walked on through the tunnels. Brian held the dungeon map in front of him, and we followed him deeper through the stone corridors. The dungeon seemed to grow colder, and I couldn’t help but look around me whenever I heard a noise. I expected to see the dome-shaped head of a Trogologon emerge from the shadows.

  Eventually, we followed a passageway until we came to a dead end. Brian called us to a halt, but there was nowhere else we could have gone in any case.

  “I don’t get it,” he said, straining to see the map in the darkness. “This should open into a larger room.”

  There was no opening ahead of us. Instead, it was a stone wall with strange markings on it, and drops of water ran down it and collected on the floor. The stone had edges as though it was a door, yet there was no obvious way to open it.

  “Are you sure you’re reading that thing right?” said Smoglar.

  “I know how to read a map.”

  Smoglar grunted. “Really? So you don’t remember the time we were heading to Yulluk and took a wrong turn, and we ended up surrounded by Dire Ligras in the Blue Ash pits?”

  “You’ve got a long memory, dwarf.”

  “Give it here.” He went to snatch the map from Brian, but the giant drew it away from him.

  “I’m positive this is the way,” said Brian. “We’ve followed the course of the map so far, and this should lead us to the dungeon centre.”

  “Well there’s one way to find out,” I said.

  I took a bomb from my inventory and placed it next to the wall. I kneeled down and lit the fuse, and then I stood back. I heard the sound of flame burning down the fuse, and then it hit the bomb and exploded. The stone wall crumbled at the blast, and dust shot up in the air. I breathed it in and coughed, and my eyes stung from the debris that had blown back in my direction.

  When the explosion settled we saw that the wall was gone, and beyond it was the room we had been looking for. It was the centre of the dungeon.

  We stepped inside it and found a cave-like room with polished flooring. A pattern was etched into it, though it was too dark for me to make out what it was. Candles surrounded the outskirts of the room and cast a dim glow. At one end there was a cage. In it was a figure, but they didn’t move.

  “It must be Ozreal,” I said.

  As we stepped into the room, I heard a rumbling sound. A mist started to gather in front of us, smoky and black and reaching high up toward the ceiling. Gradually it began to take form, and soon, we saw a creature in front of us.

  It was shaped like the Trogologons, but it was thirty feet taller. Where the others had been blind, this one had oval eyes that burned red as though they were on fire. Its arms were spindly and its fingers were capped with claws that were stained with blood.

  “Appraise it, Janus,” said Brian.

  I focussed on the creature in front of us. As my intelligence increased and my Appraiser skill improved, I had started finding it easier. As I stared at this creature, though, I hit a block. It was as though as soon as I looked at its skin, my mind went blank.

  “It’s no use,” said Feidan. “It’s got a mana barrier. Abilities and magic won’t work against it.

  The creature opened its mouth and looked like it was whispering to us, but I couldn’t hear anything.

  Brian turned to face me. “We’re going to betray you, Janus.”

  I jerked back in surprise. Brian stared at me with a confused look on his face. “Something wrong?”

  The creature’s lips moved quicker, and still no sound came out. We needed to know its weaknesses, but with the mana barrier around it, my appraiser ability couldn’t get through.

  “What did you say?” said Smoglar, glaring at me. A look of anger crossed his face.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You told me that you’re working with the Serpents,” said the dwarf.

  “I didn’t say anything, I promise.”

  “You’re all going to kill me, aren’t you?” said Feidan, glancing from left to right and backing away.

  The creature stopped whispering. It ducked its head and then swiped a long arm across the dungeon floor. I backed away, but the creature hit Smoglar’s legs and made him fall to the floor. Smoglar got up, raised his axe and charged. Despite his low one-handed skill, he was able to strike the monster below the kneecap. It dealt some damage, but hardly enough to inspire hope.

  I turned to Feidan. “I need to blow the barrier. If it’s a mana barrier, maybe we can overload it, but I don’t have enough mana to do that. If I open a bomb casing, can you focus your mana into it?”

  “Why?” said Feidan. “So you can wait until I'm drained and then kill me?”

  “The creature’s planting those thoughts in your head. Don’t listen to it. We’re not going to kill you, Feidan. Just focus.”

  Feidan backed away further. He had a feral look in his eyes now, as though he might lash out at anyone who went near him.

  The creature swiped its arm out again. This time he caught me w
ith it, and I felt pain sear across my chest.

  Smoglar got to his feet. He backed away from the creature and faced Feidan. The healer’s face was screwed up in anger.

  “You led me here to kill me,” said Feidan. “You’re going to sacrifice me.”

  I looked at Brian. “Whatever this thing is, it’s manipulating us. Like the Trogologons did in the passageway, but worse.”

  “I know a good cure for confusion,” said Smoglar. “Brian taught me this one.”

  He hit Feidan on the head with the blunt end of his axe. The healer cried out and put his hands to his skull, but his eyes seemed to clear.

  “What the hell’s happening?” he said.

  At the far end of the room, the figure in the cage began to stir. The glow of the candles around us wasn’t enough for me to make out what the figure looked like, but I saw that they were getting to their feet. It must have been Ozreal.

  “Focus your mana into the bomb casing,” I told Feidan.

  The healer closed his eyes and held his palms out. A blue mist began to gather, and then it drifted toward the bomb casing in front of me.

  “It’s going to attack again,” said Brian.

  As the creature lashed out with its arm in an arc, Smoglar leapt forward and took the brunt of the damage. He sat on the floor winded for a second and then got up.

  The blue mist mingled with the gunpowder on the casing until finally, it was all shaded blue. Ahead of us, the creature started whispering again.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” said Feidan, looking at me and backing away. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  His face screwed up in anger. He ran at me, clearly ready to kick the casing and send the contents of the bomb flying before I had the chance to close it. I stood up, and just as the healer reached me I punched him in the face. My knuckles stung, and I got the sense that the blow had hurt me more than it had him. Regardless, the healer staggered back. I closed the bomb, lit it, and threw it at the monster. As it exploded, the air in front of the creature seemed to shimmer, and then it broke.

  I focused on the monster and this time I felt information flood toward me.

  The Old One – Level 46

  HP: 3880/ 4000

  Strengths: Manipulation

  Weaknesses: Arcane

  None of us knew any arcane magic. It was clear that at some point in the future, we’d need to have a mage on our side to balance out the team. Until then, though, we were faced with a creature that had a weakness we couldn’t exploit.

  The figure at the far end of the room stood up now. They gripped the bars of their cage and shook them.

  As the creature swung its claws at us, I jumped over its arm and let it miss me. I sprinted across the floor to the far end of the room. As I rushed by the creature I heard its whispers louder this time. It was a hissing sound, as though the room were filled with snakes.

  I heard cries of pain behind me, and I saw that Brian was on the floor. The creature drew back its arm and prepared to strike again. We didn’t have long.

  The cage in front of me was held firm by a thick steel lock. There was no way I’d be able to force it open, and I didn’t have the lockpicking skill. The imprisoned figure watched me silently. They had a hood drawn over their face, and in the darkness, I couldn’t make out their features.

  I gripped the lock. The steel was cold to the touch and though parts of it looked rusted, it held firm. I dissembled another bomb and took the gunpowder and poured it into the keyhole. I inserted a fuse and lit it.

  “Stand back,” I told the figure in the cage. They weren’t in my party, and I knew that any explosion I created could hurt them.

  Across the room, Feidan shouted out in pain. I turned around to see that Smoglar was stood above him with his axe drawn. The creature must have placed confusion on him, and the dwarf looked like he was ready to kill our healer. Brian ran over to them, but The Old One struck him with his claw and knocked the giant to the ground.

  The fire reached the end of the fuse and exploded. To my dismay, I saw that the lock was still in place, but the metal had weakened. I struck it with my dagger again and again until finally, the lock fell to the floor.

  The figure in the cage pushed the door opened. As he walked out, I saw that it was a man. Without looking at me, he crossed the room until he stood beside The Old One.

  He raised his hand above his head and clenched his fists. A purple light gathered above him, so bright that it was like a firework exploding in the darkness. He screamed out and then clapped his hands together.

  Just as The Old One turned around, the purple light shot at him. It drenched his skin and then slid over his body. Wherever the light touched it the creature screamed, and smoke sizzled off it. Its health bar began to fall further, until finally it tilted its head and gave one last roar of pain, before falling to the ground.

  Quest Completed: Rescue Ozreal

  Level up to level 14! (216 exp to level 15)

  Chapter Sixteen

  The years had taken their toll on Ozreal. Wrinkles were cut into a face that was pale from imprisonment. When we walked out of the dungeon he took stumbling steps, as though it had been a while since he stretched his legs. Despite his weary posture, I couldn’t help but feel impressed by him. He wore a robe that, although it was tattered, shimmered when sunlight shone on it. His hood covered most of his head, and a blue trinket was clipped around the top of his robe. His eyes seemed to have limitless depths. I knew that even if I focussed all my attention on appraising him, I wouldn’t even begin to see the secrets he held.

  Ozreal preferred to walk at the back of the group on his own for a while. I guessed that he was so used to the solitude that he felt uncomfortable walking beside us, so we gave him some peace as we headed back to Iskarg. Brian marched at the front with me.

  “I thought you said Ozreal couldn’t fight?” I asked.

  “I said he doesn’t fight; not that he can’t.”

  “I learned arcane magic when I was a young mage,” said Ozreal, at the back. His voice was rough, and each syllable seemed to be shaped by years of pain.

  “Why didn’t you just use it when you were in your cage?” I asked, turning to face him.

  “The Old One wasn’t a fool. He cast a barrier over my enclosure. I’m curious, tinker. Why did you come to free me? My absence in the game world must have been noted, but none bothered apart from you.”

  I explained to him everything that had happened until now. I told him of Herelius Rouge and of the Old Serpent’s Sting. When I mention this, Ozreal listened intently. Finally, I explained that we needed access to the Grand Library, and to do that we had to create a guild.

  “One good turn deserves another,” he said, after listening to me. “I’ll create your charterstone for you. I have marble we can use.”

  Great, it seemed that luck was on our side. It was a rare feeling to have, and I was glad of it. The quicker we had access to the library, the quicker we would find out where the Greye guild lived. I wanted to destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting as soon as possible. In truth, it had become a burden to me. I knew that if the Serpents got it, then they would be able to find Necrolor’s death shards easier. Keeping it safe until then was too great a responsibility to have.

  “Shall we get started?” I said.

  Ozreal smiled. It was a faint one, as though his face wasn’t used to making the expression. “I can see you’re keen, but one detail eludes us. My mana was drained in my imprisonment, and I used the dregs of it to cast the arcane spell. We will have to wait until it recharges.”

  As we crossed a muddy plain I dropped away from Brian and the others until I walked at the back with Ozreal. He made no indication that my presence either pleased him or irritated him, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” I said.

  Ozreal carried on staring in front of him. “We all need to talk to someone about something. The question is, are they the right things?”

/>   “Before I entered Re:Fuze, someone left me a note. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, and truth be told, I’m still wondering what the implications are.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It told me to look for you. It said ‘Find Ozreal.’”

  Ozreal walked with his hands in front of him and tucked into the wide sleeves of his robe. He reminded me of a monk walking in solitude. I got the impression that our presence with him didn’t make the slightest difference to him.

 

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