The Curse of Rion Castle (The Neuro Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Andrei Livadny

  I ran a quick search. It didn't take me long to locate what I was looking for:

  A Large Raid Tent

  Sleeps: 20

  Price: 1,000 gold

  A Minor Camping Site

  Sleeps: 50

  Price: 5,000 gold

  A Camp Ration

  Contains: potions, food (meat, bread and cheese), water (buffed)

  Price: 8 gold

  Excellent. I chose the Minor Camping Site. We could always use one in the future. Unlike the Large Raid Tent, it had the added bonus of allowing me to billet warriors of antagonistic races separately.

  Food was more of a problem. The rations were pricey to say the least. Still, tonight I had to make an exception, considering the late hour and the prisoners' sorry state. Starting from tomorrow, I'd have to think about proper food deliveries.

  I too could barely stand on my feet. I definitely wasn't going to wander about the castle in search of sleeping facilities. I wasn't even sure there were any. In our situation, a hearty serving of bread and cheese, a swig of water and a warm sleeping bag in a perfectly safe, mopped-up location seemed like the best choice.

  "Arwan," I said once I completed the transaction, "know how to put up a tent?"

  The Elf shook his head. "I can build a treehouse real quick," he offered.

  "I see," I said. "Raoul, come over here," I leaned forward and began lining up the packets on the ground. "I want you to show the others how to put up a tent. Here they are, as well as some food and water. Help them to set up camp right by the entrance to the donjon. I'll go and reset the respawn point. I'll PM you once I'm done."

  "Sure," he nodded. Apparently, he wasn't new to virtual camping.

  As he taught the NPCs to use players' equipment, I returned to the Resurrection Hall and opened the respawn point tab.

  The mercenaries had already removed theirs. Excellent. The only users left on the list were Enea, Togien, Platinus and myself.

  I opened a new tab and listed all the NPCs. The interface promptly offered another surprise: moving an NPC respawn point cost five gold each.

  It was a good job I had the money!

  If the truth were known, I wasn't enjoying my new managerial functions at all. I might need to hire some assistants, otherwise, I'll be busy all day sorting out and following up on a plethora of vital albeit petty issues.

  I switched to the teleport tab, then PM'd Raoul,

  How's it going?

  We've set up camp already. I've distributed the rations. The Elves are happy. The dwarves are grumpy as usual. The orcs have refused to sleep in tents point blank.

  It's all right. I'll sort them out. You can move your respawn point to the Resurrection Hall now. Know how to do it?

  Sure! Thanks! Can I try it now?

  Be my guest.

  I got busy changing the portals' settings, restricting access to the dungeons and declining all incoming teleports.

  A dull green flash in the respawn zone announced Raoul's arrival. He looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

  "It worked! It worked! I can keep my char!"

  "Excellent. Go and get some sleep now. Tomorrow we'll discuss your future position in the clan."

  "Sure! Thanks! See ya!"

  He logged out, disappearing into thin air. I stayed for a while, completing my work, then walked out.

  The place was bathed in moonlight. Our small camp was still bustling with life as everyone celebrated their newfound freedom.

  I walked over to the orcs' leader who was sitting by the campfire with three others. "Davre, what's up? Why don't you want to sleep in the tents?"

  "Not our thing."

  "And what if we need to go on a raid?"

  That got him interested. "A raid? Where to?"

  "Discipline is for everyone," I replied. "If everybody starts setting their own rules, we're not going anywhere. With due respect to your customs, do they say anything about your not sleeping in tents?"

  "I don't think so."

  "That's sorted, then. You'd better get used to it. No more sleeping rough."

  "And how about the castle?"

  "We'll restore the barracks as soon as we can. There, everyone will have a room for him or herself."

  "What, like a prison cell?"

  "Sorry, but if you want to stay, you'll have to get used to creature comforts. Trust me, they're not as awful as you might think."

  "Can't we build ourselves a cave? A nice big one! With a large fire that never goes out!"

  And a nice big pile of rotting bones, I added mentally. Still, I didn't want to appear too soft on my first day. "No caves within the castle's limits," I said firmly. "Your men take first watch. The Elves will replace you."

  He growled his understanding, nodded and returned to the fire.

  My tent was at the very center of the camp. You could easily tell it by the clan's banner that topped it. The two Guards of Gloom stood a solemn watch by the entrance, the blades of their naginatas glistening dimly in the moonlight.

  I found Arwan, "I want you to choose the watch. You'll relieve the orcs in two hours' time. In the morning, we'll form hunting parties."

  "Yes, leader!"

  That's it. Enough for today. Time to catch a few Zs.

  I turned to the Guards of Gloom, "You aren't going to stand here all night, are you? There's no need for that. Go and get some rest."

  "We're not tired."

  "Very well. Suit yourselves."

  I was too exhausted to argue. They were NPCs, after all. Me, I was only human.

  * * *

  I'D HAD A GREAT sleep.

  You're well-rested and full of energy. Effect: Vigor. +2% to the XP received for the next 6 hrs. -2% to your Mental and Physical Energy expenditure for the next 6 hrs.

  I had a quick breakfast, then threw the tent's flap aside and strode out.

  The sun was almost overhead. The kobold (who must have relieved the two Guards of Gloom) growled a greeting.

  The camp was empty. No sentries were posted on the castle walls. For a moment, I stood there speechless. Had my valiant army deserted?

  I turned to the kobold, "Report."

  "The Elves have gone hunting," he replied. "Master Togien arrived and took the dwarves down the caves with him. The orcs caught three thieves."

  "What, local farmers?"

  "Moor goblins," he growled his contempt. "They tried to get to the donjon. Davre wanted to hack them down but Master Platinus told him to bind them hand and foot and lock them up."

  "Where is he?"

  "He arrived two hours ago. He's gone to the Moors now."

  A shiver ran down my spine. "What, alone?"

  "The orcs wanted to go with him. Master Platinus said he needed some herbs to make some magic wine for tonight's party."

  "A party. And what are we supposed to celebrate, may I ask?"

  "Rion Castle Day!" the kobold replied unhesitantly. "The farmers came back with boatfuls of food. They asked me to tell you about them but I didn't want them to disturb you. They'll be back tonight."

  Holy Jesus. How long had I slept? "Any sentries posted on the walls?"

  He nodded at the lush green of the vines shrouding the old fortifications. "Arwan's snipers. You can't really see them."

  "Did you get some rest?"

  "I don't need it, do I?"

  "Why, not at all?"

  "I can stay awake for a week. I only need food and drink once a month."

  "Go and get some food. That's an order. Where did the orcs lock up those thieves?"

  "I'll show you," he said and headed for a nearby tower.

  Its entrance was blocked by a huge boulder. The kobold pushed it effortlessly aside.

  "They're here," he nodded. "Go and skin them alive if you wish."

  "I'll take care of them," I said.

  I walked in. The tower's only room was bathed in shadows streaked with the dusty sunrays bursting in through the narrow arrowslits.

  The floor was littered with the
rotten fragments of collapsed roof beams. Three scrawny green-skinned creatures cowered behind them. On seeing me, they attempted to shrink back even further but the chains used by the orcs proved too heavy for them to move.

  I perched myself on top of a wooden crate. "Where are you from?"

  Ignoring my question, they glared back at me, their eyes filled with fear and hatred. They hadn't asked me for mercy. Then again, they probably couldn't speak our language. Having said that... one of the prisoners was a level-31 shaman. Quite powerful, apparently. A necklace of hydra's fangs hung around his neck. All three wore loincloths. Their weapons — old gnarly clubs — lay by the wall out of their reach.

  "Did you hear the question? Who are you and what did you need in my castle?"

  Without lowering his gaze, the shaman tried to sit up. Rattling his chains, he rolled to one side and forced himself up.

  "We don't need scrap metal," he mumbled with a toothless mouth. "We've come to claim what's ours. If you don't give it to us, the spirits of the moors will be angry with you."

  Aha. This sounded like the inklings of a dialogue. And potentially, also a quest. "I didn't take anything from you."

  "You didn't. The Legionnaires did. They stole our totem!"

  "Can you give me more details?"

  I heard a rustling noise behind me. The shaman's eyes opened wide with fear.

  I swung round. The two Guards of Gloom stood behind me.

  Kray gave the shaman a long look. "Spawn of the Dark," he snapped. "You should never turn your back on him. Ever. He is clever and treacherous."

  The shaman cringed, apparently not too happy with the characteristic. "You want war?"

  "Why, do we have a motive?" I replied.

  "We want our totem back! Give it to us, or I'll bring thousands of our brethren to your walls!"

  I didn't like his attitude at all. Still, I tried to remain calm. "Your totem, what does it look like? Where did you see it last?"

  "You'll know it when you see it! It's made of Khmor wood which wriggles as if it's alive. Give it to us and we'll leave! If you don't, it's war!"

  "Stop threatening me. Tell me everything as it was. Remove his shackles!"

  Reluctantly Ikhtar obeyed. Kray pressed the blade of his naginata to the shaman's throat, "Sit still."

  "Kray, please don't," I said. "I can take care of myself."

  He stepped back, as watchful as ever.

  The shaman lived up to Kray's apprehensions. The moment he was freed of his fetters, he cast me an evil eye and attempted to recite a spell.

  Before Ikhtar could react to such cheeky behavior, I disrupted the spell by gently punching the shaman between the eyes, stripping him of a few hp. "If you can't have a civilized conversation, you'll have to stay chained, I'm afraid. Your brethren are more than welcome to come here. From what I heard, you took the Darks' side during the siege. And you know what? I can't remember seeing a single goblin prisoner in the dungeons below."

  His face fell. "Wait! Yes, you're right! Our ancestors did fight the Disciples. But that's not our fault! We've come to claim what's rightfully ours!"

  "So are you gonna talk or do we continue to waste our time?"

  "It's the ex-shaman's fault, the one we had before me," he began tearfully. "He took the totem and some warriors and left for the castle. We never heard from them again. And we can't go on without the totem, you see. Life is just too bad. No frogs to hunt. All the fish has gone to other places. Hydras keep attacking us. Please help us!"

  New quest available: Troublesome Neighbors.

  Quest class: Unique

  Find the ancient totem lost by the Moor Goblins, then decide what to do with it.

  Reward: varies depending on your decision

  Deadline: 30 days

  Decline penalty: immediate war with Moor Goblin tribes

  "Very well," I said, much to the two Guards' astonishment. "I'll let you know if we find it. I'll tell my warriors to release you now. Go back home and warn everyone: whoever trespasses on our lands will be sent to his ancestors' afterlife pastures."

  "You're too weak! The castle is destroyed!"

  Oh well. You can't change a goblin's cheeky nature. "You wanna try?"

  "No," the shaman realized his faux pas. "Not now."

  "That's it, then. When my men find the totem, we'll contact you. Kray, get them out of here."

  * * *

  "WHY DID YOU let them go?" the Guards demanded. They had no idea I'd received a new quest.

  "Think. Are we prepared to go to war?"

  Kray shrugged.

  "Some tribes don't understand nice," Ikhtar agreed. "They only appreciate power."

  "How do you know? Have you dealt with Moor Goblins before?"

  "Goblins are goblins. It doesn't matter where they live. They're scheming and spiteful."

  "I'll remember that."

  That was it, then. I had to find the totem and decide what to do with it. Can't be too difficult. Judging by the item's description, you couldn't really miss it.

  I opened the clan chat. "Togien? How's it going?"

  "Okay," he replied. "We're busy with the first obelisk. My Master level is going up. Which is a good thing because my Profession could use some growing. Thanks for inviting us."

  "You need anything?"

  "No, it's fine."

  "Any Dark visitors? Should I send you some warriors just in case?"

  "Nah. We can manage."

  "Okay. Keep me posted."

  Good. Things seemed to be moving. This one obelisk could garner us two cartfuls of Spectral Dust. Having said that, where was Platinus? This wasn't the right moment to make celebratory arrangements, really.

  No messages from Enea.

  I raised my head to study the donjon's three precipitous towers. Restoring them required some thought. Dozens of floors; hundreds of rooms. I needed to inspect them all. The castle's 3D model only gave a very vague idea of its structure. Also, most of its halls, rooms and galleries were highlighted either red or orange.

  I had to collect all the available artifacts before all else. But where was I supposed to store them? The unfinished quest prevented me from accessing the Armory.

  I filtered out all the damaged areas. That left me with a few tiny bits of the donjon highlighted in green plus two large zones which appeared to be intact. Both were situated at the same height about a hundred feet from the ground between the west and the east towers. According to the prompt, that's where the Disciples used to live: the personal dwellings of all the warriors and wizards privy to the Order's top secrets.

  I'd love to take a peek at them. Judging by the fact that their walls remained unbreached, this area must have been the defenders' priority. The Disciples must have held these rooms long after the rest of the castle had fallen.

  * * *

  WE USED teleports to get to the donjon's tenth level, about halfway to the top.

  A long circular corridor seemed to lose itself in the gloom. Cobwebs clung to the walls, interweaving with the tattered remains of tapestries still hanging from the ceiling.

  The two Guards of Gloom froze next to me, tense and alert. They didn't seem to be comfortable in closed spaces like these.

  The silence was unnaturally thick. The air was stale.

  In places, the walls were still lined with rusty torch holders.

  My feet sank into a thick layer of dust. This place should be safe. The castle was my property, after all. Still, I couldn't shake off the feeling of danger.

  Kray produced a torch and a tinderbox. I motioned him to wait.

  First, I wanted to see how the castle control interface worked. Now that the source of power was working, I couldn't understand why some of the donjon's basic functions remains inactive. It made no sense. You'd think my arrival should have caused this corridor to be lit up, the same way as the Resurrection Hall was.

  Ikhtar reached out to push some cobwebs out of his way and promptly jerked his hand back. "It stings! This place is a
trap!"

  I hurried to open the castle control tab. I really should have studied it before venturing anywhere on my own.

  Found it.

  Magic traps and protection veils. Can be installed in areas vulnerable to enemy penetration. Can also be used to restrict access to certain vital areas.

  In order to navigate the traps, it is advised to use personal magic items (i.e., rings).

  Aha. I highlighted the entire level in my interface, then clicked on Show and disable all defense apparatus.

  The map erupted in a multitude of red dots. Every door here had been charmed; the entire floor, walls and ceiling were covered in crimson spots. The portal area seemed to be the only safe place around.

  As I clicked Disable, most of the red magic seals blinked and went out. The cobwebs, however, stayed put.

  "Don't move," I told the two warriors before studying more prompts.

  Predatory Cobweb

  Item type: trap

  Warning! Uncontrollable growth of the item detected! The item cannot be disabled.

  Shame. I didn't want to resort to radical measures.

  A wall of fire rolled over the corridor, sweeping away the cobwebs and lighting the few remaining torches. An unsteady glow illuminated the rocky walls. A draft of air ruffled the smoldering tapestries, sucking the whiffs of smoke into rusty air vents mounted on the ceiling.

  Before the fire could spread, I cast Ice, disabling the traps and completely ruining the tapestries. The floor was covered in melting slush. This probably hadn't been a good idea, after all.

  The doors lining the corridor's outer wall creaked ajar.

  Kray leaned his weight against one of them, forcing it open.

  So! Those Disciples didn't live so badly!

  If I expected to see a row of humble monastic dwellings, I couldn't have been more wrong. This "cell" consisted of two spacious rooms with large vaulted windows, their dainty furnishings virtually undamaged — probably thanks to some ancient durability spells. The ornate draperies had preserved most of their original color.