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Kingdom Level Four: LitRPG

Page 8

by Adam Drake


  Before Rob could even react, a message appeared.

  You have been given a quest. “Rescue the prisoner”

  Save the prisoner goblin and get him to safety.

  Reward: 500 experience points.

  Don't I get a chance to reject it? Rob thought, but then the goblins attacked.

  The closest one pounced first, swinging a short sword which Rob easily blocked. Still dazed from his fall and the damage he'd taken, he needed a few moments to gather his wits. If he didn't he'd be dead. He countered with an overhand strike of his mace and nearly knocked the sword from the humanoid's hand.

  The others closed in. Having been in this situation before, he instinctively knew to back up, keeping them from surrounding him.

  The first goblin pressed its attack as two more stepped in.

  Rob used Sweep and was given the satisfaction of bashing his mace across all three. The weapon knocked against the shields of two of them, but hit the last in the side of the face, sending it careening away with an agonizing shriek.

  Using this moment to his advantage, Rob glanced behind him as he backpedaled and found a perfect spot.

  The other goblins rushed forward, grouping together in their desperation to get to him.

  Rob calmly blocked strikes and parried sword swings until he was in position. He stopped, standing between two trees less than an arms span on either side.

  Either the goblins didn't notice this tactic or didn't care. They moved forward practically stumbling over each other. Rob punched out and slammed the end of his mace into a goblin's chest causing it to fall back into the group.

  Rob considered his situation. He had 25 mana. Although he'd already taken some damage from Quartek and the fall, it wasn't bad. His Shield Damage aura had saved, again. Casting Heal wasn't necessary. He did have enough for two Sun Bolts, but in the chaos there would too good a chance he'd miss his target.

  As a sword suddenly deflected off his buckler and cut into his right knee, he made up his mind.

  Quickly, he cast Shield Damage and the aura appeared, enveloping him.

  He'd cast it just in time, too. A goblin shouted in rage and flung itself at him, stabbing forward. Rob didn't get his buckler up in time and the sword struck him right in the throat, but was deflected away by the aura which dropped by 15 hit points.

  Whoa, Rob thought as he countered, bringing his mace down on to the goblin's exposed head. Its skull caved in with a wet crunch. Seeing their comrade collapse to the ground only enraged the goblins more, and they attacked with intense ferocity.

  Rob spent the next several minutes keeping the group at bay, making a concerted effort to keep them from overwhelming him. His placement between the trees helped, but he still took a lot of damage. Soon, his aura was gone, and he was back to receiving real wounds.

  These were not the same kind of goblins he'd encountered at the farm. Those were a joke in comparison to these warriors. Despite their crazed approach to combat, he could tell they had more experience and combat training.

  Rob sensed the outcome here would be the same. He killed three, with three remaining. Seeing an opening, Rob instinctively lunged forward with a Shield-Bash catching a goblin in the chest and sending in sprawling to the ground. In the same moment, he used Sweep to strike the other two. One's shield shattered and the other had its sword wielding hand loped off at the wrist.

  A few merciful mace strikes later and only Rob remained standing with goblin corpses at his feet.

  His Basic Shield skill increased to 16% and Maces to 4% over the course of the fight. Each goblin was worth 200 experience points compared to the 100 for the ones at the farm.

  Adrenaline still pumping, he itched for more fighting. He whirled around to glare at the bound goblin who cowered against a tree.

  “Don't kill me! Please!” it cried.

  “Who the hell are you?” Rob said, panting heavily. His eyes searched the vegetation for more goblins. He kind of hoped there were more.

  “My name is Hazziq,” the goblin said, eyes wide with fear. It didn't know what Rob's intentions were.

  Neither did Rob. He was suppose to rescue this thing?

  Satisfied he was safe for the moment, he drank a Healing potion, followed by a Restore Mana one. He didn't want to waste time waiting for either stat to regenerate on their own. He might have to fight again, at any moment.

  The goblin looked over the corpses heaped on the ground. “You killed them all! I am most grateful to you. I extend my thanks. Might I ask your name, great warrior?”

  The name's uninterested, Rob wanted to say. What was he expected to do with a goblin? Kill it? “Name's Rob. What's the deal with these clowns? Why'd they tie you up?”

  “Oh, that is a long story, mighty one, but for expediency I will say they found my loyalty to the Clan lacking and were taking me to the Regional Warlord to be punished.”

  Rob glanced at his Shield Damage cooldown timer and grimaced. Almost two whole hours. Since he'd gained the spell he'd never been without it active, refreshing it every morning when he woke. This was the first time in days he didn't have its protection and he felt naked.

  He was only half-listening to the humanoid, as he busied himself searching through the corpses. “What Clan is this?”

  “The Feral Clan. They pride themselves on their fighting prowess and gaining territory at all costs.”

  “Not much prowess here,” Rob said kicking at a body. He found only 25 silver pieces between them. “Not much money, either.”

  “They are not a rich people, I admit. Conquering weaker clans and warring with others is their only talent, I'm afraid. Only the warlord benefits.”

  He looked at the goblin and noticed it's clothing was an ash gray in color while the others were burgundy. “You're not Feral Clan? You said they, instead of we.”

  “Oh, I most certainly am. Well, at least until the Warlord strips me of my birthright and then flays me alive. A most painful punishment. Um, speaking of pain. Could you release me from these bounds? I can't feel my arms anymore.

  Rob regarded him coolly, then reread the quest. It hadn't popped, giving him its experience, and now he could see why. He still had to get this being to safety, whatever that meant. But it didn't say anything about trusting the thing.

  “Not now,” Rob said, “Maybe later. Where am I suppose to take you?”

  “Pardon, mighty one?”

  Rob sighed. “Is there a safe place I can take you?”

  “I don't think there is any place safe for me, anymore. I've been cast out from my Clan, and no other would even think of taking me in. I'm doomed to wander the world, looking for a home.”

  Rob rolled his eyes at the creature's maudlin tones. Then he was struck with a thought. “Wait, were they taking you to the hideout?”

  “I assume so, yes.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “I've been to it once before. Why?” The goblin looked dubious.

  “I need to pay it a visit,” Rob said looking at the bodies at his feet. “Maybe make more friends.”

  The goblin forced a laugh. “Ah, that I don't doubt you will do, great one. I would be honored to show you they way.” He looked at Rob expectantly, wiggling his hands.

  Rob sighed and undid the leather straps holding his arms together. He hoped he didn't regret this.

  Hazziq groaned and stretched his arms out. “Oh, that feels much better. It's been hours.”

  Rob decided to keep the goblin in his view at all times. He pointed at the corpses and said, “Take all their gear and weapons off of them.”

  The goblin looked confused. “Um, of course, mighty one, but to what end?”

  Loot. Rob needed money, and this gear although low end, would be worth something. “So I can sell it later. We can't carry it, there's too much. So we'll find a place to stash-.”

  The sound of movement from behind made him spin around, shield and mace at the ready.

  Five more goblins emerged from the vegetation an
d locked eyes with Rob. Four had similar armaments as their dead companions, whereas the fifth one only wore brown robes with a red sash across it.

  A mage.

  Well, here we go again, Rob thought, as he tensed for another fight. Behind him he heard Hazziq run off through the undergrowth.

  Great. There went his quest reward and the location of the hideout.

  Seeing the bodies of their friends, the goblins shouted with rage and ran toward him. Rob pointed his fist at the mage, hoping to blind it with a Sun Bolt and eliminate it as a magical threat.

  But he didn't get the chance.

  Quartek suddenly charged out of the thick underbrush then slid to a stop, surprised to have found its quarry.

  Stunned, Rob staggered back out of the way. The monster just wouldn't give up.

  The crocodile turned its massive head to look at him. Its left eye was swollen shut, the flesh fused together.

  Rob was about to try for its right eye with another Sun Bolt, when a fireball exploded against Quartek's back.

  The monster whipped around to face the goblins. The mage had blasted it, not knowing it was only after Rob. Now it had the crocodile's full attention.

  With a deafening hiss, Quartek galloped forward, plowing through the warrior goblins who, amazingly, slashed at its sides. The mage shrieked and tried to flee.

  Not one to waste an opportunity, Rob turned away and fled into the vegetation, leaving the sounds of screams and fighting behind.

  It was terrifying how determined the monster crocodile was, stalking him for this long. He wouldn't underestimate the beast again. At least it would take care of the goblins for him.

  He ran through the underbrush until he caught a glimpse of Hazziq, ahead. The little goblin was running at full speed, deftly navigating the terrain.

  “Hey!” Rob shouted, starting to feel winded. “Stop!” The little bastard could move.

  Hazziq didn't look back and kept running.

  Frustrated, Rob was about to use his Sun Bolt on him, when something leaped from some bushes and knocked the goblin over.

  “Oh, damn!” Rob said as he hurried over.

  The goblin was writhing on the ground and screaming. A large beetle-like insect, the size of a dog, was on top of him, trying to bite him with massive pincers.

  Standing over them Rob hesitated. If he used his mace he could accidentally hurt Hazziq. Instead, he bent low and lunged forward with his buckler. The Shield Bash caught the huge bug on it side and it tumbled away to hit a tree.

  Hazziq, petrified, scrambled to his feet and ran behind Rob. “Kill it! Kill it!”

  “I know!” Rob said. The beetle wasn't dead. Landing on its back exposed its black shiny legs which clawed at the air, its large pincers snapping in agitation.

  As Rob moved closer it suddenly righted itself and its back shell split open. A series of transparent wings sprung out and the thing launched up into the air, then dove down.

  “Ah, crap!” Rob said as he deflected its dive, pincers scraping against his buckler. He swung at it, but it flew up out of reach. “What the hell is it?” he said, tracking the bug as it circled them.

  “Shale Mite, I think!” Hazziq said from behind him. “Horrible creatures.”

  The thing dove again, but Rob caught it with a swing. He heard a satisfying crunch and it fell to the ground with a thud. It wriggled on the ground, its wings damaged, green innards gushing from its wound.

  Grimacing, Rob smashed it several more times until it was dead. Finished, he stepped back in disgust. The thing was a pulpy mash of shell, wings and green goop.

  You have killed a Shale Mite! You have gained 75 experience points toward your next level.

  “Are you okay?” Rob said, noticing green innards stuck to his mace. He tried to rub them off on a tree. The smell was horrific.

  “Yes, thanks to you, again,” Hazziq said, panting. “Grothar has smiled upon me today, to bring a mighty warrior like you to my aid.”

  “Who's Grothar?” Rob said, he noticed his mace was stained green now. He hoped it wasn't permanent.

  “He's the God of Conquest,” Hazziq said. “He brings victory to the Clans, if the clans are worthy. All goblins pray to him. It is said he created the first goblin clan eons ago, back when we were nothing more than animals in caves.”

  “Uh, huh. A goblin god. Figures,” Rob said. He looked back in the direction they'd come. There were no signs of pursuit from either the goblins or Quartek, but he'd learned not to count on either of them quitting. He doubted the goblins were still alive, though. Would the crazed crocodile finally stop hunting for him?

  Hazziq looked at him quizzically. “Which god do you pray to, if I may ask?”

  “Lady luck,” Rob said, pulling out his map to get his bearings. “That's the only god I care about.”

  The goblin pointed at the pulpy mess of the Shale Mite. “I don't understand why this thing is here. I've never seen its kind before. It's strange.”

  “Well, all this is strange to me,” Rob said looking over the map. He was midway through the forest still a fair distance from the edge of the mountains.

  “Are you new to this valley?” Hazziq said.

  “You could say that.”

  “But I just did.”

  Rob sighed and stashed the map. “I was brought here against my will a short time ago. Now I'm a king. Funny how life can throw surprises at you.”

  “A king!” Hazziq said, eyes widening. “The king of which kingdom?”

  “Anika. You're standing in it.” He waved at the surrounding trees. “This is all mine. Great, huh?”

  “I'm in the service of a king!” Hazziq said, smiling. “Grothar truly does smile upon me today.” The goblin suddenly dropped to its knees and bent its head. “I believe this was meant to be. That Grothar has intended for our paths to cross. Since I am without a clan, it is his wish I am to aid you.”

  Oh, boy, Rob thought.

  Hazziq said, “I swear my allegiance to you, king Rob. Will you accept?”

  A message appeared.

  Hazziq of the Feral Clan wishes to become your follower.

  Accept or Decline?

  “Uh,” Rob eloquently said. This was unexpected. Did he want this goblin following him around? Could it be trusted? He assumed that since the game was giving him the option, it must be legitimate. Besides, he needed him to find the hideout, anyway. “Yes, I accept.”

  Hazziq stood, a huge toothy grin on his wide face. “Wonderful! Thank you!” He grabbed Rob's mace wielding hand and kissed the glove which was spattered with bug guts.

  “Okay, okay, that's enough,” Rob said pulling away. “So you're my follower now. Why don't we start in the direction of this damned hideout?”

  “Of course, mighty one!” Hazziq said, nearly overcome with joy. He swiveled his head around scanning the trees.

  After several seconds of this, Rob asked, “Do you know where it is?”

  “Yes! But I've lost my bearings during all this running and fighting. Which way is east?”

  Rob pointed.

  “Great, this way, please, Hazziq said and walked ahead into the trees.

  “Wait a second,” Rob said. “Better let me take point since I'm the mighty warrior, and all.”

  “Most wise, great one.”

  They moved through the swamp, its terrain slowly changing to forest again. The vegetation soon became so thick it was hard to see a couple of paces ahead.

  “So, why did you leave your clan?” Rob said, bashing a path through the bushes with his mace. The weapon wasn't ideal for the task, slowing their progress.

  The goblin swiped at some flies buzzing in and out of his massive ears. “I knew I wasn't one of them. Not any longer. The killing, the maiming, the slavery... the endless raids. I couldn't take it anymore. I'm not violent by nature, something my brood mother always said disappointed her. Sure, I acted the part of an angry goblin fighter, but I never killed anything. I'd like to say because of my conscience, but to be h
onest, it probably was due to a lack of skill. If I ever swung a sword I'd just cut myself.”

  Rob was curious. Up to now, he never spared a thought to goblins, or what their society was like. He figured they existed for him to kill or get in his way. “How long were you a goblin fighter?”

  “Since I was old enough to be taken from my brood mother. Young, I guess. My training began immediately and I took part in many raids. I knew it was not for me.”

  “Did you get into any fights?”

 

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