Skull and Thrones: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure

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Skull and Thrones: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure Page 4

by Eric Ugland


  “The thing is,” Godfrey continued, “politics has found its way into the Imperial Academy of Mancers and Magic. Those in charge are more than happy to engage in business activities and do whatever you want in exchange for money or power.”

  “Interesting you say that,” I replied, tapping the map in the Arena district, “because I went back to the Biscuit’s Union tonight, and did a little peeking around. There were two mancers inside having a really boring chat about running the Biscuit’s Union. About the financial freedom they’d gain if they had a business to run.”

  “Seems like it might be getting worse, then.”

  “So where did you go?” Matthew asked.

  My mind spun as I tried to figure out a good story that wasn’t a complete and utter lie. Something that wouldn’t alienate my allies, but also wouldn’t out me as being not from their world.

  “The Iron Silents were involved in this. They must have kidnapped me somehow,” I said. “Maybe they thought I had information they wanted, because they started working me over, torture-style, but I escaped.”

  “So why do you smell like death and smoke?”

  “They thought I was dead, and threw me in a pit of bodies. Then they tried to set me on fire. Death and smoke.”

  “They think you’re dead?”

  “No. I made a bit of a mess of things on my way out, so they’ll probably come after me pretty hard.”

  “That could make things difficult for us.”

  “Can’t say I’m happy about how things are progressing either. Things have been a bit shit since the Emperor died.”

  “We need to be proactive about this,” Matthew said.

  “About the Emperor?” I asked.

  “We have a unique set of skills in this room, and a unique view on the Empire. I believe we can make a difference, that we can help steer the Empire in the right direction.”

  “Matthew for Emperor,” Godfrey said.

  Matthew frowned, but everyone else smiled.

  “This is not a joking matter,” Matthew said.

  “It’s just a bit outlandish,” I interjected. “What do you want us to do?" I failed to hold back a yawn, and I realized that I was absolutely wrecked. I needed sleep.

  “This is not just some quick conversation to have over breakfast,” Matthew replied.

  “Hey,” I said, “I’ve got an idea. I need to rebuild my guild. It’s a quest. And it’s a bit of a pain in the butt because I’ve only got a week to do it. But one of the things we could do, you know, as a guild, is make getting the right person on the throne part of our reason for being. You know? And, therefore, I’d like it if you’d all join up.”

  There was definitely an awkward pause there. I thought there would at least be, you know, a modicum of discussion, or some vague sense of how I’d just had a grand idea.

  But I was basically just met with silence.

  “Okay, well,” I said, “you guys hold onto your answers, because whatever it is we’re doing, I need to get some sleep first."

  I clapped Matthew on the shoulder, grabbed all my bags and loot, and headed out back to the courtyard so I could get to my apartment.

  Chapter Twelve

  My apartment was empty.

  No monsters, nor kobolds, nor beautiful young girls who'd sworn their loyalty to me through dubious dress-fetching quests.

  I pulled open some floorboards, undid traps, and secreted my things away in the kitchen. Then I took a shower and hopped into bed. My last act of the evening was to pull up my character sheet and do a little investigation. I needed to see if there was a penalty for dying.

  Clyde Hatchett - Lvl 9 Rogue

  Traits

  Race: Elf of the Sun and Moon

  Height: 6’2”

  Weight: 195 lbs

  Eye Color: Green

  Hair Color: Blonde

  Renown: Unknown

  Statistics

  HP: 220

  STAM: 539

  MP: 436

  Armor: None

  Active Effects: None

  XP: 28500

  Attributes

  Strength: 21

  Agility: 27

  Dexterity: 39

  Constitution: 30

  Wisdom: 12

  Intelligence: 39

  Charisma: 20

  Luck: 29

  Skills

  Lockpicking (LVL 15)

  Silent Movement (LVL 25)

  Eavesdropping (LVL 18)

  Pickpocketing (LVL 24)

  Stealth (LVL 95)

  Parkour (LVL 15)

  Meditation (LVL 1)

  Archery (LVL 8)

  Dodge (LVL 21)

  Hauling (LVL 1)

  Butcher (Invertebrates) (LVL 18)

  Butcher (Exotic) (LVL 18)

  Harvesting (Animal) (LVL 18)

  Brain Stomping (LVL 1)

  Animal Handling (LVL 3)

  Fashion Master (LVL 1)

  Lying to Yourself (LVL 1)

  Monster Handling (LVL 1)

  Swords (LVL 36)

  Shields (LVL 35)

  Heavy Armor (LVL 20)

  Formation Fighting (LVL 13)

  Traps (LVL 39)

  Silent Landing (LVL 3)

  Walking (LVL 1)

  Baking (LVL 38)

  Not Quite Golf (LVL 1)

  Skull Crushing (LVL 1)

  Mace (LVL 8)

  Humanoid Anatomy (LVL 95)

  Necromancy (LVL 55)

  Religion (LVL 10)

  Economics (LVL 5)

  Backstab (LVL 24)

  Abilities

  One of These Things is Enough Like the Other

  Undead Control

  Undead Mastery

  Disease Immunity (Undead)

  Feats

  None

  Boons

  None

  Indicium

  Biscuits Union Guild Leader

  Imperial Mark of Honor

  Titles

  None

  Relationships

  None

  Languages

  Imperial Common

  Plains Tauren

  Mahrduhmese

  Carchedonian

  Sea Elven

  Ancient Elven

  Archaic Dwarven

  Modern Dwarven

  Infernal

  Celestial

  Common Orc

  Mountain Orc

  Narbendian

  Gnomish

  Primordial Terran

  Pirate Pidgin

  Carnish

  Common Kobold

  Ancient Kobold

  Ancient Draconic

  Abyssal

  Spells

  Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1)

  Basic Object Identification (Lvl 1)

  Minor Illusion (Lvl 1)

  Summon Familiar (Lvl 1)

  Shadow Step (Lvl 1)

  Minor Heal Self (Lvl 3)

  Stamina Regeneration (Lvl 5)

  Zeddington’s Infinite Key (Lvl 1)

  Silent Image (Lvl 1)

  Detect Secret Doors (Lvl 1)

  Satisfaction (Lvl 1)

  Summon Outsider Guardian

  Lesser Drain

  Raise Dead (Lvl 28)

  Animate Skeleton (Lvl 38)

  Animate Flesh (Lvl 41)

  Stitch Flesh and Bone (Lvl 25)

  ReAnimate (Lvl 44)

  Disrupt Life (Lvl 29)

  Vicious Wrench (Lvl 45)

  Heal Undead (Lvl 38)

  Hold Monster (Lvl 44)

  Hold Humanoid (Lvl 23)

  Banish Undead (Lvl 10)

  True Vision of Shadows (Lvl 1)

  Vaux’s Brilliance (Lvl 1)

  Mage Hand (Lvl 1)

  It wasn’t really obvious at first. Hell, it was barely obvious at all, but I remembered having more XP. I’d gained a ton from killing Insidious and the demon, oddly more from killing Insidious. But subtracting that left me at 18,000. And I know I had more than that prior to my first death. If I had to
guess, and I did, I was guessing I lost all the XP I’d gained between levels.

  I fell asleep faster than I thought possible, sinking immediately into a blackness that was only barely removed from the deaths I'd experienced.

  I woke up in the morning. As you do. But it looked like mid-morning, which was a tad surprising. I’d never slept that long in the world of Vuldranni. I hoped it wasn't a new normal for me — I appreciated the advantage of only needing a bit of sleep every other night.

  Outside, the rain still fell. Not ridiculously hard, but to the level where I wouldn't have left my apartment back in my old world. Here, though, there were things that had to be done.

  Out of bed, I showered again, still trying to get that gnarsty demon stench off. Then I went downstairs, feeling a giant empty pit in the spot where my stomach should have been. I knew it was likely just hyperbole, but I felt hungrier then I had ever been before, though I couldn't find a specific reason for it. I felt like I could eat a horse, and given some of the proclivities I'd witnessed in Glaton, I was reasonably sure there was a restaurant willing to cater to such an appetite. Instead, though, I sauntered into the Heavy Purse and took my familiar seat at the bar.

  "Morning," the bartender's wife Penelope said.

  "Morning."

  "Needing breakfast?"

  "That'd be amazing,” I said.

  She gave me a smile and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Somehow, knowing food was on the way made it easier for me to actually settle my stomach down and look around the tavern. It wasn't packed like it had been when the Iron Silents had foolishly tried to corner the food market. But those days of heavy traffic had added plenty of loyal customers to the mix, so on this gloomy morning the place was reasonably full. And, in its own way, happy. A big fire crackled in the fireplace at the far end of the bar, and most of the customers were gathered around it.

  "Heavy breakfast for one," Penelope said, sliding a plate covered in a thick slab of ham and fried potatoes. She put a mug of something steaming next to the plate.

  "Thank you," I said.

  She gave me a nod, and then turned her attention back to paying customers.

  The food was delicious and the drink was bitter, but filling. Not quite coffee, not quite tea, not really something I could place. Something native to Vuldranni I’d yet encountered.

  As soon as I finished, just as I was about to push back from the bar and get started with my day, someone sat down next to me.

  "Morning there," the woman said. “Are you the owner of this place?”

  "Only the building. The barkeep is—“

  "Landlord's who I'm looking for," she interrupted. "I hear you might be buying buildings — that right? Paying coin for them?"

  "It's something I did once,” I said. “But—“

  “My building is just next door to this one. On the other side, and it’s much better than that stupid building you bought with the bakery and the like. You’ve likely discovered the issues in the basement by now, and maybe you’ve heard the rumors about what went on down there. Well, I will tell you that there is nothing untoward about our building. It is quite wonderful, so if you’d just—“

  I held up my hand, and she stopped. She took a big breath and smiled.

  “Never heard rumors,” I said, “and saw no issues in the basement.”

  “Oh, really? You’re new, I take it.”

  “To the neighborhood? Yeah, a bit.”

  “They probably didn’t want to scare you off.”

  “I’m hard to scare.”

  She leaned in conspiratorially, and motioned for me to do the same. As soon as I did, she leaned back out and looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. I’m sure there were, but she didn’t seem to find anyone, so back into our conspiratorial huddle she came.

  “I have it on very good authority that that man used his building to house a cult. A cult devoted to bringing about the end of the world. And down in the basement, that’s where—“

  “Where the sacrifices took place?”

  “No, oh no. Gods no. Nothing like that. Not in this neighborhood. That’s where he and his followers stored all their preserves. But they didn’t know how to preserve things properly, and there was a mass explosion of jams, jellies, and potted meats. From what I was told, that’s why he moved. Because of all the creatures attracted to such an odiferous mess. You haven’t smelled anything?”

  “Truth be told, I haven’t spent that much time in there, but I’ll take a look at the lower levels.”

  “What you should do is come look at my building and see what you’re missing out on.”

  “I appreciate the hard pitch, but tell me this: why are you selling?”

  She leaned back on the bar, and took a hard look at me.

  “I’m making an assumption about you,” she finally said. “A young man such as yourself who purchases a few buildings in a city, you have no plans to leave, right?”

  “Not for a while, no.”

  “You’re young. A hustler who seems to have surrounded himself with high-level, high-power people. Which means you’re smart. So I don’t think I’ll surprise you if I tell you this business with the Emperor is bad.”

  “You’re leaving.”

  “Yes. Or trying to. But our money is our building, and so—“

  “You can’t leave unless you sell.”

  “Right. And if we stay, well, I don’t want to stay.”

  “You really think it’s going to get that bad?”

  “It will be bad enough. Lots of powerful people will be competing for that throne, and no one is going to give even the slightest of shits for those of us at the bottom. There will be armies. Maybe even armies laying siege to Glaton, who will take our things and even us to make up for feeling like they’ve gotten less gold than they feel they deserve. It’s not something I wish to experience. So, if there’s a way to sell the building, I’m selling.”

  I waved Titus over.

  “Morning Jaclyn,” Titus said with a nod.

  “Titus,” she replied.

  “You met the neighbor,” Titus said.

  “She wants to sell.”

  “You should take her up on the offer.”

  Simple. Easy. Take her up on the offer. Immediately, I suspected Titus had set this up. It made sense, he knew people in the neighborhood and the last time he got me to buy a building things certainly wound up working fantastically for him. There was the question of coin. Did I have enough to cover another building? Sure, I didn’t know, exactly, the price, but it would likely be around the cost of the other building. Because of how things wound up with the Biscuits Union, I had access to their bank accounts and technically I owned all their properties about town. Was there a downside? Besides spending money, not really. Having more property meant having more people around. More experts who could teach me how to be a better, well, whatever I was becoming. And if I could continue to gain property, maybe I could even get the whole block, and then I’d be able to make a fortress of my own. That might be a decent long-term goal. And downside could possibly be attention. A young elf scooping up property in OldTown might attract eyes on me I didn’t want. One building would have been negligible because it’d been given to me. Two might have been a fluke. But three was someone actively expanding. Attention and coin vs friends and fortress. I mean, having a fortress is just too cool an idea.

  Fortress wins.

  “Can you two haggle out the price?” I asked. “I’ll have to, I guess, see someone about some coin.”

  Jaclyn smiled, then turned her attention to Titus. Titus just smiled.

  I went up to my room and locked the door behind me. Just for added security. I did the thing with the thing and pulled the whatsit and flipped the other thing so that all the traps were off and I could get to my hidey spots without getting a poisoned dagger in my back.

  Carefully, I dragged everything out, and set all the various bags on the counter. There was a lot of crap to go through. A
bunch of rings. Quite a bit of paperwork. Including deeds to multiple properties across town. And bank accounts that came with passphrases and numbers. Where clearly no one was going to care that it was me coming to get money put there by the Biscuit’s Union. Beautiful.

  I put some of the rings in a pouch, and pulled out one of the larger bank slips. Then I reversed the steps so all my crap was safely tucked away once again. I had some stops to make.

  Chapter Thirteen

  My first stop wasn’t the bank. And I wasn’t on guild-rebuilding business either. I needed to know just how much danger I was in, so the most important thing for me to figure out was who’d set the Ring of Fire and gotten the Imperial Academy of Mancers and Magic involved.

  But as soon as I got close to Careena’s shop, I knew something was wrong. The broken windows and smoke curling out of the building were pretty clear indications shit had gone down.

  No one was around the building, so I just stepped through the spot where there had once been a window and pushed through the smoldering curtains. Her shop area was torn apart. All her secret compartments, at least the ones I’d been privy to, had been opened and ransacked. Not a single book of the hundreds she’d had remained.

  The smell of the place was overwhelming, a hideous mixture of smoke and toxic chemicals. There were definitely way more colors of smoke than I'd ever seen before. Wisps of bright pink and iridescent blue, and a bizarre greenish-purple hybrid. But despite the smell, it didn't seem like the smoke had any effect on me, so I went deeper in, heading up the stairs to Careena's living quarters.

  It was basically the same as downstairs: trashed. But as I looked around, I realized it wasn’t quite to the same level as below. This looked more like the work of someone who'd left quickly and less like a looter's creation. The little table had been pushed to the side of the kitchen, all the cupboards were open, and one door was hanging off a single hinge. A trapdoor had been torn out of the floorboards. There was a nice little iron lockbox still in place, but it was empty.

  I went up to the third floor, where her bedroom was. The building was rather small, all things considered, and it had a bizarre vertical layout. The bedroom had two broken windows looking out across the street at the walls of the giant graveyard. Rain was coming in, and the floor was slick with water. The bed had been broken in two, and the mattress lay on the other side of the room in a pile of damp feathers.

 

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