Dagger Lord: A LitRPG Series

by Elliot Burns

  Feyen slipped his needle-marked arms into a velvet robe. It was so full of loops that Jack was surprised he could even bear its weight. The old tacher, thankfully now clothed, settled behind a bone-oak desk. Unlike the rest of the levels Jack had seen, Feyen’s room had just one book in it. It was surprising. There were so many books in the rest of Tacher Halls that Jack thought even the bathrooms would boast libraries.

  Feyen hadn’t even looked at him yet. He stroked his finger down the page of the book in front of him. His fingernails were long, yet manicured.

  Jack knew when someone was trying to intimidate him. Bruce Frier’s visit had been a great lesson in that regard. He needed to change the way Feyen was acting. To do this, he used his modus Trueword, and tried to shave away some of Feyen’s smugness.

  Truespeech failed!

  “Did you really think that would have any effect? You are like a child using a skill he does not understand,” said Feyen.

  Undeterred, Jack switched to his mind manipulation skill, and used mind lance. He pictured himself running at Feyen’s mental defence and puncturing it. He had taken no more than two mental steps, when the lance crumbled in his hands.

  Mind Lance failed!

  Feyen laughed. “A little better than I expected, actually. I did not think you would be able to wield a lance. But still…don’t play games above your station.”

  Jack knew why he was here. The High Tacher didn’t want to have tea and cake with him; this was about his debt. Jack needed to placate him without showing any sign of weakness.

  “You must be thirsty,” said Feyen. “Your journey here might not have been the most hospitable, but I do not lack manners.”

  He stood up and crossed the room. He poured liquid from a ceramic jug into a glass and passed it to Jack. Jack looked at the liquid. It seemed almost syrupy. He had to admit that he was thirsty. His last drink had been hours before they arrived at Tight Noose bridge. Besides, he had to keep up a show of politeness. Anything else would betray how angry he felt, and the tacher would see that as weakness.

  “Don’t be shy,” said Feyen. “I know how long you have travelled since leaving the troop. This will replenish you. I myself find it quite the elixir.”

  Feyen poured himself a glass of the liquid and drank it back. Jack drank a quarter of the liquid. It was sweet tasting, and it warmed his throat on its way down to his stomach.

  “No doubt you know why you are here?” asked Feyen.

  “I figured that you’re lonely,” said Jack. “Thought I’d drop by and have a chat.”

  Feyen sat behind his desk. “I am disappointed that you have not offered terms of repayment.”

  “I don’t believe that I have acknowledged the debt, yet.”

  From dealing with debt collectors back home, Jack knew that the number one rule was that you didn’t acknowledge a debt unless you were certain that it was yours. He decided that it might make things easier if he treated the five-hundred-year-old tacher like on of the debt collectors he’d faced in the past.

  “Do I need to remind you that the services of Elena Al Gaard IV are subject to our approval? I could utter an order recalling her back to the halls.”

  “She and you don’t get along, by all accounts. Why would you do that?”

  “We are not merchants,” said Feyen, “But our services come with a price. Perhaps, until you make good on your debt, I will have Elena assigned elsewhere. A trade master in Icen requested one of our order not long ago. It is in the barren northern reaches, where snow always falls and the ice never breaks. The journey there would take more than a year, if she even made it there at all.”

  “Is this a threat? I’m sure Elena has a say in this.”

  “After what she did, Elena has lost her voice in tacher halls.”

  “You want some flek – fine. But twelve thousand is fucking ridiculous, especially when the debt isn’t mine to begin with. I’ll give you a token amount. Let’s say two thousand.”

  “Do you imagine you are in the Kiele markets, young lord? I’m not a flea merchant haggling for penny flek. We will have it all.”

  This wasn’t going at all well. Feyen was as stubborn as they came. Jack got the feeling that flek wasn’t at the bottom of it; there was something else at play here. Until he found out what, he’d have no leverage. He had to try something else.

  “There is something you can offer that might counterbalance your debt,” Feyen said.

  “And what might that be? A chess partner? You seem pretty lonely up here.”

  “Your kingdom stone, Lord Halberd. I would like to study it.”

  “Perhaps I could tell you what I know about the stone, then,” said Jack.

  Feyen shook his head. “What you know of it wouldn’t fill the tiniest of margins in the smallest book in the library. I want to see it.”

  “Out of the question.”

  “Then you will need to find a magic flek tree. Twelve thousand is a lot for a lord who doesn’t even have trading routes.”

  “And if I just tell you to get fucked?” asked Jack.

  “I am sure Elena has told you what happens to those who try to outrun their obligations. But it is not only your mind that you should worry about. Our order has the ear of every lord in the land. You might be Lord Halberd, but you will still need alliances. Diplomatic relations could turn very sour for you.”

  “I thought tachers stayed out of politics?”

  “We desire only knowledge, nothing more. We have never been able to study your kingdom stone. A little interference in the minds of lords would be a small price to pay for such a treasure.”

  There was no way he could agree to this. His kingdom stone was the only thing that allowed him to respawn after death. It would be beyond idiocy to let someone else near it.

  Suddenly, he felt a tugging sensation in his head., He knew by experience what this kind of thing meant, now. Feyen was trying to get inside his head. Reacting on instinct, he conjured a mind shield. He focused on it with all his will, pouring every ounce of mental energy into its construction. Then, he felt a shadow descend on his mind shield. The metal started to bend in his hands, but he held it firm. He pushed against the shadow. His physical body started to sweat. He didn’t think it would hold out. Then, the shadow retreated.

  Mind Manipulation increased by 25%!

  [50% toward level 3]

  Now, when Jack looked at Feyen, he saw a different expression in his yes. His smugness was gone, and it was replaced by something else. What was it? Doubt, maybe? This was a win. He’d managed to hold his own against Feyen. Sure, he hadn’t been able to penetrate the tacher’s mental shields, but he’d managed to protect his own mind. Even so, his meeting with Feyen hadn’t exactly helped things so far. He needed to leave without there being outright hostility between them.

  “I’ll think about it,” said Jack. “As long as I don’t get any more rude summonings.”

  “We will allow you your thinking time. I know you must require more of it than most. Remember, Lord Halberd, it is the flek, or the stone. Ponder carefully on it. You could become the shortest reigning Halberd in history.”

  At least he had bought some time. When he got back to the castle he would speak to Elena and see if there was anything he could do to avoid being trapped by a portal again. If he could do that, then there was no reason he couldn’t put off the tachers indefinitely. After all, they weren’t warriors. They couldn’t storm his castle.

  “Oh, Lord Halberd?” said Feyen. “You have a smudge on your cheek.”

  He stroked his fingers across his cheek and over his stubble. Sticky black tar stained his fingertips.

  He could taste it again now. Oil. Thick on the back of his throat, covering his tongue, smothering his tonsils. He remembered numbness on his face, the voice in the mist.

  “That was real?”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not. Not every dream is devoid of truth,” said Feyen.

  “What the hell have you done to me?”

&nbs
p; Feyen gave a cruel smile. “It was an alchemically altered version of the Hour Glass Kiss. Do you know of it?”

  Jack’s stomach lurched. He remembered what Mav had told him of the Hour Glass Kiss. It was a slow-acting toxin with a worrying mortality rate.

  “You poisoned me?”

  He reached for his dagger, only to remember that it was gone. He wanted to march over to Feyen and throttle him, but he was stopped by the sudden appearance of four tachers in the archway.

  “I know you do not acknowledge your debt,” said Feyen. “So instead, think of the twelve thousand flek or the kingdom stone as payment for your antidote. I hope this will ease your difficulty in making up your mind.”

  There had to be more to this. Even if Feyen genuinely believed that Jack owed him the money, why would he put so much pressure on him? Even the stupidest dumb-ass loan shark knew that you didn’t kill your mark, since corpses rarely paid debts. Veik must have had something over Feyen, he guessed. Henry Veik was involved, somehow.

  “I look at you,” said Jack, “And I can see the puppet strings coming out of your arse.”

  “A lovely image. You should write poetry,” said Feyen. Then, he nodded toward the doorway.

  The four tachers advanced on him. They didn’t look dangerous, but then neither did Elena until she unravelled her urumi. Jack was weaponless, outnumbered, and stuck in a foreign environment.

  “Escort our guest home,” said Feyen. “Remember, Lord Halberd. Your life is ticking, and I hold the hour glass.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  Suddenly, Jack saw a blur whizz up by the window. He realized that it was the platform that the three tachers had been trying to fix. Well, they’d fixed it alright. Only now, it seemed to be working a little too well. It flew up at twenty miles per hour. The tachers shouted in alarm, and then the platform crashed into the roof above. Stone and debris rained down, and tachers in other parts of the halls left their studies and went to go look at the commotion.

  Feyen rubbed his head in exasperation. “Damn it,” he said. “Get Lord Halberd out of here.”

  “One last thing,” said Jack. “Can I get my dagger back? Or do I need to try another of my mind tricks again? Who knows, I might get through this time. That wouldn’t do your ego any good, would it, Feyen?”

  Feyen thought about it. Jack could tell that the tacher was considering a rebuke, but then he saw an expression on his face once again – doubt. Using his mind shield, Jack had managed to make the tacher doubt himself.

  “Get Halberd his dagger back, and then get him out of my sight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After getting back to the castle and explaining to the others what had happened, Jack had come up with an ingenious way to rid himself of the poison. He climbed the stairs of one of the turret towers and then, taking a deep breath, threw himself out of the window. He’d tried to push back his fears, reminding himself that it was the only solution he could think of, and it was only as the ground rushed to meet him that he regretted it. After his third death in Royaume, he woke in the kingdom stone room.

  You have died!

  [Total deaths: 3]

  -50 flek lost [total: 79]

  - Population morale decreased to 30

  He’d known that he would get the penalties, of course, but it if this worked, then it would be worth it. His plan was that since his hitpoint and mana stats reset when he died, then maybe Feyen’s poison would be wiped as well. When he checked his character screen, he saw an unwelcome message.

  Status: Poisoned

  [You have been poisoned by the Hour Glass Kiss]

  Damn it. Death wasn’t the answer here, and it seemed that Feyen had known that. That meant that he whether needed to pay Feyen, allow the tacher access to his kingdom stone, or come up with some other way of dealing with him. Until then, he would be poisoned. The problem wasn’t that Feyen’s poison would kill him; Feyen was too clever for that. Hour Glass Kiss was a poison that would slowly weaken him, and that would eventually make him worthless in battle, without actually killing him.

  Despite that, it wasn’t all bad news. Two crops had been harvested, and this added a healthy four hundred flek to Jack’s coffers. As well as this, his population had increased to seventy. The usual crowd of farmers ands peasants moved into his lands, but as well as that, there were some welcome arrivals.

  Population increased by 20! [Total: 70]

  New arrivals:

  Farmers – 9

  Unoccupied – 4

  Soldiers *veteran* – 4

  Hunters – 3

  It seemed that news of Sarna’s appointment as commander had attracted a few veteran soldiers to the lands, and they had committed their swords to Jack’s army. In addition to the soldiers, three hunters had come to live there. The hunters, Jack soon discovered, poached wolves and other animals in the nearby forests, and Jack earned a cut of the flek proceeds when they sold their pelts. This added a further two hundred flek to his account, giving him a total of six hundred and seventy-nine flek, the most he’d ever had.

  His last bit of good news came when the weaponmaster asked to see him. When Jack went to visit, the portly weaponmaster had given him a broad smile, and then passed him a present. When Jack looked at it, he couldn’t stop a beaming grin spreading across his own face.

  Item received: Gem Hilt

  [A hilt with two gem holes. Gems can be added to improve weapon stats]

  Item received: Fire Gem

  [Adds +15 fire damage to normal attacks]

  After assembling the new equipment on his dagger, he studied the results.

  Dagger

  Base Att - 7

  Gem hilt - +5 ATT

  Fire gem - +15 AT

  Shine steel blade - +10 ATT

  Total weapon ATT: 37

  When added to his base attack of thirteen, Jack now had an attack rating of fifty points when using his dagger. Not too shabby at all.

  Two days after his meeting with Feyen, Jack, Sarna, Mav and three soldiers had set out from castle Halberd so early that not even the sparrows had started their morning songs. Under the faint glow of the risings suns, they hacked their way through the vine jungle to reach the glen where Jack had first learned steel baroque. The curious thing was that no matter how many times they came here to train, the vines had always returned by the next morning.

  Still, it was beginning to resemble a proper combat area of sorts. Sarna had persuaded him, with her typical blend of compliments and insults, to spend flek on archery targets and straw-filled practice dummies. It was beginning to look less like the hidden alcove of a long-gone religion, and more like a training ground.

  Mav liked to hunt game while Sarna trained the watchmen, since his injured arm meant he couldn’t find properly. He would skin and salt his fresh kills, and he sometimes cooked the meat in a corner of the training area, where a slab of stone lay on the grass. Then, he’d sit and spectate the soldiers training whilst eating roasted meat. Jack swore that Mav got a kick out of watching the men’s concentration lapse when the delicious aroma hit their noses. Sarna didn’t discourage Mav from distracting her fighters.

  “Battle isn’t neat and tidy,” she said. “The men have to learn to keep their focus no matter what’s going on around them.”

  A day earlier, Sarna had taken scissors to her hair, cutting her red strands into ragged ends. She always kept it short, she said, because in close combat long hair gave your enemy something to grab. The bruise around her eye had faded, leaving pale skin in its place. Today, she had taken off her leathers in favor of padded armor. It was a couple of layers of tight-fitting cloth spun together and filled with bedding. It was so light that it offered little protection against training blades but allowed her free movement.

  She spent hours drilling the men, while Jack and Elena watched from the sidelines. She was never happy with their efforts. The soldiers and watchmen tried to heed her advice, and they struggled to live up to her perfectionism.

/>   “The watchmen are scared of her,” Jack said to Elena.

  “I’m sure most people would be. I am still not sure about her.”

  “Come on, Elena. Look at them; it’s only been a couple of days, and they already look like better fighters. Just think what she can do when I manage to get a real army together.”

  “You are the lord, Jack. You know best.”

  He grinned. “No, I don’t. And you know it. But thanks.”

  With that, he picked up a wooden training blade and left the sidelines.

  “What are you doing?” asked Elena.

  “I’m joining in.”