Shattered Lands: A LitRPG Series

by Darren Pillsbury

  “There is… but not immediately.”

  “How?”

  “There are various ways. For one, there are enchanted objects that will increase your mana twofold, threefold, even tenfold. But they are dangerous to acquire.”

  “How do I get them?”

  “The Dark Market should have some… but the best way is on a quest.”

  A quest!

  “That’s great – I’m supposed to go on one tomorrow!” Eric said excitedly.

  The unburned half of Cythera’s face suddenly contorted with fear. “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

  Oh God. “It’s just for a few days.”

  “You’re not ready to strike out on your own yet – you’re still learning –

  “I said I’d come back in a few days,” Eric snapped. “Do you know of any of those enchanted objects nearby?”

  She pouted for a second, then continued. “The Orb of Therot is hidden in the Mines of Alark. It is said to triple one’s mana… but the mines are three day’s ride from here, and perilous – ”

  “It’ll be fine,” Eric cut her off, busy calculating in his head. Three times 735 – over 2200! “The Mines of Alark – does everybody know about that, or is it some sort of secret?”

  “It is well-known, although the Orb of Therot is not.”

  “Do a lot of people go there?”

  “Yes. There are many hidden treasures in its depths, but they are protected by vicious guardians. Many venture there, but few return,” Cythera said in an ominous voice.

  Yeah, yeah, Eric thought. The game had only been open 24 hours – anything Cythera was telling him was just NPC blather disguised as local history.

  And if the quest followed the pattern of other games, as soon as one party cleaned out the mine, all the gold would regenerate – as well as any monsters.

  “Where’s the Orb hidden?” Eric asked.

  For the next several minutes he took notes, using a piece of parchment to sketch out a map based on Cythera’s instructions.

  He had no idea whether Daniel had already settled on the quest’s destination yet, but there was going to be a change of plans.

  After Cythera was finished – and after he’d cut off half a dozen of her entreaties to stay – he said, “Now I need to learn some basic maging stuff before I go. Healing spells, blocking spells, fire spells – that sort of thing. Do you have a book for that?”

  She gave him a funny look, then laughed.

  “What?” he asked angrily. “Did I say something funny?”

  “Those skills have to be learned over time. They’re not something you can acquire overnight.”

  “But I’m a Level 7!”

  “In terms of Demonology and raw power, yes. But you are asking now for a completely different set of skills.”

  “Won’t my increased mana help out?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “but there are no books here that have chosen you like the Demonomicon. So you must learn the skills one by one.”

  “Alright, so teach me.”

  “It will be difficult.”

  “Yeah, yeah – just teach me, okay?”

  “Which spells do you want to start with first?”

  He thought about what he would probably need most during the quest. “Healing.”

  “Alright. Let us begin…”

  40

  After 15 minutes he was already frustrated.

  “A friggin’ +1 health spell is all I can do?” he snapped. “That’s enough to cure a mosquito bite, not a knife wound!”

  “I told you it would be difficult,” she rebuked him, then asked in a mystified voice, “What is… ‘plus one’?”

  “Never mind. How long will it take me to learn how to heal a broken bone, or a life-threatening injury?”

  She shrugged. “Weeks.”

  “Weeks?!” he raged. “I learned how to summon a bunch of demons in hours!”

  “Because you chose the path of Demonology. You did not choose the path of a Healer.’

  CRAP…

  “Is there another way to make this go faster?”

  “You can buy healing potions.”

  “Can I get them at the Dark Market?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enough to heal somebody from knife or sword wounds, or poisons or something?”

  “Depending on the severity of the wound and the strength of the potion or spell, yes.”

  He thought of the purse up on the rooftop.

  There’s still got to be plenty of money left for potions AND quest equipment… right?

  “Great, problem solved,” he growled. “What’s next?”

  The next two hours were just as frustrating. No matter what skill he wanted to learn – blocking, illumination, anything – the process to learn the spells was long and arduous. He learned to deflect something about as powerful as a small rock, and to create a light about as powerful as a single candle flame. That was it.

  “Can I get spells for those at the Dark Market, too?” he asked impatiently.

  “Yes – ”

  “Fine, I’m going back, then,” he snarled.

  She tried to keep him there with her, but he shrugged her off. Morning was approaching – not just in the Shattered Lands, but in the Real World, too – and he had to get some actual sleep. He could feel his own energy flagging and his temper fraying.

  He was about to leave when suddenly a text box appeared:

  Quest: Convince Cythera to let you take the Demonomicon with you.

  Challenge Level: Severe

  Reward: Immediate power when the opportunity arises

  Failure: Far greater wait

  Oh GREAT.

  “I need to ask one more favor,” he said.

  She stared at him resentfully, waiting for the request. A couple of hours before and she would have answered Anything! – but he had pretty much used up all her goodwill.

  He steeled himself for her response. “I need to take the book with me.”

  She stared at him. “The Demonomicon?! No! It must stay here!”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said impatiently. “And I’ll bring it back.”

  “The book is more valuable than anything you could possibly acquire on your quest!” she snapped. “It’s the key to ultimate power – what would happen if you lost it?”

  “I won’t.”

  “I can’t take that chance. My answer must be ‘no.’”

  He stood there, hands balled into fists at his side, trying to suppress his rage.

  How dare she?!

  The book chose ME, not HER!

  She’s just trying to keep me chained to her – she just wants me to STAY here and –

  He stopped, shocked.

  The answer was suddenly obvious.

  He didn’t know if he could pull it off, though. He’d never done anything like it in real life, that was for sure.

  But he decided to go with what he’d seen in movies.

  “Cythera,” he said, his voice suddenly low and seductive.

  She looked at him, resentful and wary.

  He walked up right in front of her and looked her deeply in her eyes. “You know that I’ll come back to you no matter what, don’t you?”

  Her hard shell cracked, and he could see the fear and sadness in her eyes. “No, I don’t.”

  He reached up and touched the unblemished side of her face, stroked the skin with his fingers.

  All her defenses began to thaw. Her eyes closed in bliss, and she leaned her face against his hand.

  “I will,” he whispered. “I will, because I owe you everything. And I want to give you everything… heart, soul… and body.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and he could see the lust within them.

  “But I have to go on this quest, and the book will keep me safe,” he said. “Please… won’t you help me?”

  She looked conflicted. Her eyes welled up in tears. “I… I’m sorry… but I – ”

  He needed the book,
and she still wasn’t budging.

  So he did the unthinkable.

  He didn’t want to –

  But he leaned in and kissed her.

  He willed himself not to puke as he tasted the foul stench of her breath, felt the rough flesh of one side of her lips against his own.

  Then he pulled away and looked her in the eyes again. “…please?”

  She melted.

  “…yes,” she said, nodding – at first tentatively, then more vigorously. “Yes – anything for you, my love.”

  He smiled – especially when the text box appeared:

  Success! Cythera has allowed you to take the Demonomicon with you.

  Once you obtain more mana, your ability to utilize your new power will increase almost instantaneously.

  +5 Persuasion

  +5 Seduction

  It was almost worth the stomach-churning sensations.

  …almost.

  But now he had the book.

  41

  He made his way back into Blackstone through the sewers again, carrying the Demonomicon strapped across his back and wrapped in a bag made from a pig’s bladder. Apparently that meant it was waterproof.

  I’m buying a freakin’ levitation spell at the Dark Market, he thought angrily. At least that way I won’t have to keep coming through these effing sewers.

  Stuffed in with the book was the map he had drawn, plus a few pages of hastily scrawled notes on the most basic of spells. That was all he had, other than the divining marble and a few of the throwing knives left over from Merridack.

  It was so incredibly annoying – even despite the new skills he’d learned, his illumination spells weren’t nearly as powerful as the torch he still had to carry to see in the darkness.

  Levitation AND illumination, he promised himself.

  As he made his way through the sewers, he went over his plan obsessively, examining each step for flaws. He rehearsed everything in his mind until he was sure he could get what he needed.

  He kept an eye out for Merridack and his thieves, but there was no sign of them.

  The lookout’s body was still floating in the sewer when Eric passed by, though it had drifted a good distance from where it had started. He knew that because a hundred feet away dozens of rats were attacking the head in a squealing, squirming ball, gnawing at the flesh and fighting each other over their meal.

  Guess Merridack’s guys haven’t found him yet, Eric thought grimly.

  He shuddered and walked past the gruesome scene on the opposite side of the sewer.

  Once out on the street, he returned to the building, where he scrambled up onto the roof and found the hiding place again. This time he didn’t need to remove any coins or jewels – he just took the entire purse.

  Behind him came the sound of soft clapping.

  Startled, he whirled around.

  There stood Merridack and all of his men about fifty feet away on the rooftop. They had appeared silently as cats.

  “Well, well, well,” Merridack drawled as he stepped forward, his walking staff thumping on the rooftop. “Looks like somebody survived the witch after all.”

  Dammit – he must’ve followed me from the sewers! I wasn’t careful enough!

  But Eric’s fear quickly abated, and he smiled. He knew he had the upper hand in the situation. “I was just coming to see you.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you were,” Merridack said with mock sympathy. He stopped about thirty feet away. “Right after you tore the head off Davil, eh?”

  Crap. That must be what clued them off… they must have found him and been hanging back to see what happened…

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  It wasn’t completely a lie, seeing as a demon had done all the hard work.

  “Oh, you didn’t? Well, that’s too bad, I was about to be impressed! I was going to say that you’ve definitely upped your game! But now I know you’re just a selfish little bitch who passed a dead comrade in the sewers and didn’t even think to let his friends know.” Merridack shook his head and tsk, tsk, tsked. “What kind of a man does that?”

  “I didn’t see him,” Eric outright lied.

  “Didn’t see him, didn’t kill him, whatever – that’s old business. Onto the new business.” Merridack pointed at the purse in Eric’s hand. “What have you got there for me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s funny, because I distinctly heard the jingle of coins when you turned around. And since I don’t think the witch is hoarding gold in that wretched little hut of hers, I’m going to guess you were lying about what happened at Lord Naughton’s the other night, too. You’re just a fountain of deceit, aren’t you?” Merridack smiled. “I taught you well.”

  Suddenly Merridack dropped the smile, and his look became pure menace. “Except for one thing: my men never lie to me. Now, hand over whatever you’re carrying, and maybe I’ll have the boys kill you quickly. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long, slow, drawn-out death.”

  “Sorry – not tonight.”

  “‘Not tonight’ you’re not dying, or ‘not tonight’ you refuse to hand it over?”

  “All of the above,” Eric said, and slashed his arm through the air. “Vulpist anostika!”

  Darkness shot from his fingers, and a cross between a jaguar and a horned lizard leapt out of nothingness into being.

  The creature bounded towards Merridack, who looked astonished.

  But just as the demon launched itself into the air at Merridack’s throat, the thief whirled his staff with one fluid motion and smashed the jaguar in the side of the skull.

  There was a loud CRACK! and the monster thudded to the rooftop, where it flopped and writhed and then disappeared in a haze of smoke.

  Now it was Eric’s turn to look astonished.

  “Oh HO, someone’s picked up a few magic tricks since the last time we saw him!” Merridack said jauntily.

  “Kaliston jhalhib!” Eric yelled, then followed it with a half-dozen other incantations. Darkness boiled in the air all around him as vile shapes materialized and raced for Merridack and his men.

  The majority of the creatures were successful. Splintering and ripping sounds filled the air. The thieves screamed and shrieked as the monsters ripped open throats and gouged out eyes. Most of the men were too slow to do anything but inflict minor damage on their infernal attackers.

  The only exception was Merridack, who killed every creature that dared cross his path.

  One swing of his staff cut down the bat creature midair, smashing it to the ground.

  A knife throw pierced the toad-thing as it leapt mid-air.

  And then, one by one, the thief turned his attention to the other creatures that had slaughtered his men.

  Within 45 seconds, there were eleven dead humans and a haze of drifting black smoke on the rooftop – but Merridack was still standing.

  Eric didn’t need to check his statistics to know he was dangerously low on mana and unable to summon anything else. He could feel it in his bones.

  So he did the only thing he knew to do:

  He turned tail and ran.

  Merridack’s boots crunched on the rooftop gravel as he gave chase.

  “Damn you to hell…you little fool!” the master thief panted, sounding winded as he gave pursuit. “You’re going to die… the worst death imaginable… for your treachery!”

  Eric leapt from roof to roof, running as fast as he could, though he was weighed down by the heavy book of spells strapped to his back. He hoped that Merridack was tired enough from his rooftop battle with the demons to be equally slow.

  All he needed was time for his mana to regenerate.

  Eric didn’t know where to go, so he retraced his route from the other night until he found the scaffolding. Once there, he jumped from platform to platform – down, down, down.

  Merridack reached the top of the scaffolding as Eric hit the cobblestones.

  “You’re a dead man!” the thief roared as he began his descent.

/>   Eric turned and shouted, “Hstero myklexinot!”

  He hoped he had enough power built back up.

  Apparently he did, because the tall, gangly creature with scythe-like hands materialized from the darkness.

  “Destroy the scaffolding and kill him!” Eric screamed as he ran off through the street.

  The air filled with the sound of heavy blows and the clatter of collapsing planks.

  Eric allowed himself one look back.

  The demon was halfway through demolishing the scaffolding.

  As the structure collapsed in on itself, Merridack jumped frantically towards whatever remained standing, trying not to be crushed in the wooden avalanche.

  Finally the thief was close enough to the ground to leap into the air.

  He flung his arm out as he fell. There was the flash of metal in the moonlight –

  And a knife pierced the demon’s head all the way up to the hilt.

  THOCK!

  Merridack’s body slammed into the cobblestone street and he screamed in pain.

  The creature staggered, keeled over, and immediately evaporated into black fog the second it hit the ground.

  The knife clinked on the cobblestones.

  Merridack was on his feet within seconds, hobbling after Eric.

  “I’m going to kill you, mage!” he roared. “I’m going to pull your guts out through your throat and make you eat them again!”

  Eric kept running. He had a sizeable lead now, but he knew he was going to have to turn and fight at some point.

  At least I bought myself a little time – if nothing else, to regenerate more mana.

  And figure out what the hell to do.

  He wondered if the city guard would show up. Surely they must have heard all of Merridack’s screaming by now.

  But if they did show up, that would only make the situation worse. If the blue capes captured Merridack, the thief would tell them all about the heist from the other night and where the coins and jewels in Eric’s purse came from.

  If Merridack went down, Eric was positive the thief would take him with him.

  Luckily (if anything could be said to be lucky tonight) the night watch had yet to appear.