Lord of the Flame: A LitRPG novel (Call of Carrethen Book 2)

by Stephen Roark

  “Almost certainly not,” Sabotenda replied.

  “Well, we have to head out and cross the river, and on the other side will be the Forgotten Grove, this thick forest filled with these dickhead bellringer guys that spread this ridiculous fog everywhere that makes it hard to see.”

  “Oh, lovely!”

  “And then there’s the Abandoned City of Jahannan,” he continued. “That’s as far as I’ve gone.”

  “I thought you said you’d been there before?”

  “I have,” he replied. “But I got a portal before to the Wastes, which is right before it. I know that after Jahannan there’s the Targanic, this crazy place with floating islands I’ve always wanted to see. And then I’m pretty sure that’s near the Underground City and the Devil’s Mouth. And on the other side of that is Neydeesa.”

  “The Devil’s Mouth?” I asked. “That sounds friendly.”

  “I’ve only ever seen it from afar,” Kodiak replied. “But it didn’t look like very much fun.”

  “Well, we’re not here to have fun anymore,” I said frankly. “I’m here to get my friends and figure out how to get everyone else out of here. And if Vayde is with Rayne, maybe he’ll have some answers.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement and I turned around to look back at Cara, the town that, for a brief time, had become our home. Gehman and the Red Devils had come to see us off, and came over to the edge of the town where we were gathered.

  “Well, best of luck,” Lock told us, reaching out and shaking my hand.

  “Sure you don’t want to join us?” I joked. “Last chance to sign up for the suicide mission!”

  “Hey, think of it like this,” Lambert chimed in. “If you get your asses kicked early and die, you’ll just respawn back here at the Bindstone.”

  “Thanks, Lambert,” Sabotenda said sarcastically as he handed us each a small stack of his Herb Encrusted Forest Squash for the journey—four a piece.

  “That’s all you’re getting,” he told us. “You want more; you’ll have to come back for it.”

  “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” I teased, drawing my bow. “All right, let’s get a move on.”

  We said our goodbyes to the Red Devils, turned our backs on Cara and started off through the woods. As we walked, I tried to savor the experience and cement the feeling of the glowing forest into my mind, as I knew it would more than likely be a long time before we were able to return.

  I hadn’t seen all of the Dark World, or all of Carrethen, for that matter, but I couldn’t help but feel like Cara was unique, one of a kind, a beacon of light amidst the darkness, even if that light was simply a soft blue glow from a moss that clung to the trees.

  No one said anything as we walked. I think we were all feeling basically the same way—none of us really wanted to leave, but waiting around Cara forever wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

  My friends were missing, the world was continuing to go Sunken, and it was only a matter of time before all of that spilled over into Cara and forced our hand anyway. It was always better to be prepared and ahead of the game than behind the 8-ball when the hammer decided to fall.

  As we drew closer to the forest’s edge, orange fingers of sunlight began to claw their way through the canopy above us, and once we reached the river, I saw that morning had come. The sun was not yet high in the sky, and was barely visible through the seemingly eternal cloud cover overhead.

  “There it is,” Kodiak said, pointing across the river cutting its way through the ground ahead of us. “The Forgotten Grove.”

  On the other bank, an entirely different type of forest lay ahead of us. Unlike the lush, healthy trees of the woods surrounding Cara, the Grove seemed to be made of stone and stood at least three times as high as the ones behind us. Their trunks were bare until the canopy, and were much more spread out.

  They swayed slightly in an invisible breeze, bending and twisting like great open mouths from which a thick mist emanated, spilling out of the trees and tumbling down the riverbank like a tub of overflowing liquid nitrogen.

  “Looks cold,” Sabotenda said grimly.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Kodiak replied. “It’s like a sauna in there. Humid and disgusting.”

  “Great,” Curafin joked. “I really need to sweat out some toxins.”

  “Toxins,” I laughed. “Good one.”

  “Where do we cross?” Curafin asked.

  “Cross?” Sabotenda chuckled, stepping up and aiming his halberd at the ground. A portal appeared and he quickly tossed an exit portal on the other side of the water. “Let’s go, lady and gents! Hop in!”

  34

  The Forgotten Grove

  Sabotenda’s portal tossed us out on the other side of the river like someone spitting out a hard boiled egg. We all landed easily on the ground and stared at the cloud of mist spilling out from the Grove.

  Curafin was level 83, Kodiak was 83, and Sabotenda was bringing up the rear at 79. I, of course, was 127 with a long way to go to 128. I desperately needed experience to level up if I was ever going to have a hope of going up against the Lord of the Flame, but I couldn’t help but hope the Forgotten Grove contained low enough level monsters that my group could handle themselves without me having to jump in and do all the heavy lifting.

  “Anything vulnerable to fire or ice in here?” I asked Kodiak.

  “Not sure,” he replied. “I’m not cool like you with your elemental arrows.”

  “I’ve got the flaming sword,” Curafin reminded me. “Wanna try some ice arrows, and if my fire does better you can just fletch up some of those?”

  “Smart thinker,” Sabotenda grinned.

  I took a second to fletch up 100 Frost Arrows and nocked one in my Compound Bow. Cold fog dripped from the metal arrowhead, with tiny wisps of snow that disappeared before they reached the ground.

  “That looks awesome,” Curafin said admiringly as he cycled through his buffs. I smirked, suddenly feeling like a stealth archer, ready to do some badass infiltration through enemy lines.

  “Let’s hope there’s some fire mobs in here,” I chuckled.

  “Yeah, that’s doubtful,” Kodiak said. “But who knows, maybe those Bellringer bastards don’t like the cold.”

  “Let’s do this,” I said, gritting my teeth and pushing into the fog.

  Kodiak was right. It was hot, thick and disgusting in the Forgotten Grove. Insects buzzed around us as we walked, and the visibility was so low I could barely see more than a few feet in either direction.

  Thankfully, the trees were spread out enough from one another that we were able to progress without much trouble, but there was no telling what might be hiding in the fog.

  “So, what should we expect in here?” I whispered.

  “The Bellringers are mages that spread the fog more densely in certain areas,” Kodiak said, keeping his voice low. “They’re mages, but real weak if you get the jump on them. There are Giant Wasps, but they’re relatively rare, Rabid Rats and these things called Dokkalfar that are basically dark elves with super white skin.”

  “All right.” I nodded. “Let’s keep pressing southeast and try not to draw too much attention. This place sucks and I want to get out as soon as possible.”

  We kept moving, keeping quiet the best we could. It helped that the ground was soft and spongy underneath, with no small twigs or brush to snap under our feet. The only real sound was the sound of the insects, buzzing and humming in small swarms that drifted lazily around us from time to time.

  But as we passed between a couple of trees that were unusually close to each other, I heard something. I stopped and held up a fist, signaling to the rest of my group who followed my lead. In the distance, the faint ringing of bells. It was like a set of wind chimes in a soft breeze, coming from somewhere to our right.

  I glanced back at my party to see if they’d heard it too. They had. I altered our course slightly and headed toward the bells. It would be better to get the jump on the Bellringer and take him out
and clear out some of the fog to help our progress. I didn’t like being constantly surrounded by cover for my enemies.

  As I stalked forward, something golden shimmered in the distance. For a moment it vanished, then returned again like a candle blowing in the wind.

  Bells… I realized as the golden glow began to take shape. And just beyond it, a Bellringer.

  Kodiak was right. In a way, the Bellringer resembled a mage, with a white robe, but on his head was a hat like a bishop or someone in the clergy. His body was somewhat see through, with dark grey skin and yellow eyes the color of the bells that swung lazily in his gaunt hands.

  “Bellringer?” I whispered to Kodiak.

  “That’s him,” he replied.

  I inspected him.

  Bellringer of the Grove—level 98.

  I crouched down and took aim, drawing back a frost arrow. My group had my back, but I was pretty sure I could handle a cloth wearing humanoid 30 levels beneath me.

  My Compound Bow hummed as I loosed my frost arrow. It cut through the air and slammed into the Bellringer like a wrecking ball, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling across the ground, his bells clanging like a dropped tray of pots and pans.

  “Nice shot!” Kodiak cried out, racing in to finish him off. A couple strikes from his dagger and the Bellringer died, collapsing into a cloud of mist.

  “Easy.” Sabotenda grinned.

  “You didn’t do anything,” Curafin joked as we walked over to see what the Bellringer had dropped.

  “Want this robe?” Kodiak asked Curafin.

  “Doubtful,” Curafin smiled. “How could anything look cooler than my Bishop’s robe? Let me see though.”

  Kodiak handed it to Curafin, who inspected it. He grimaced and tossed it aside. “Ten armor level compared to my 40.”

  “A whole 40 armor level,” I laughed. “That’s like, the armor level just around my wrist.”

  “Yeah, well it buffs up to 210 when I cast Harden 5 on it.”

  “That’s nothing,” Sabotenda laughed. “My suit, after Gehman upgraded it with the Cobalt, is 2150.”

  “Well, if I had the strength to wear plate mail, and be a badass, sword-wielding mage, I would!”

  “Wouldn’t we all?” I interrupted, moving deeper into the forest. The mist in the surrounding area had thinned considerably with the death of the Bellringer, making it easier to make progress. I spotted a few packs of level 78 Rabid Rats to our left and ignored them.

  I could hear a buzzing that probably belonged to the Giant Wasps Kodiak had mentioned, but I couldn’t see them. Hopefully they were higher up in the trees somewhere out of reach and we wouldn’t have to deal with them. It was a given that an insect at these levels would have some obnoxious damage-over-time debuff on their attack, and as far as I knew, none of us had any antidote potions on us. At least, I didn’t.

  “So far so good,” Sabotenda said quietly from beside me. I smiled and nodded, not taking my eyes off the mists ahead of us. I didn’t like areas with low visibility, and wasn’t about to let my guard down.

  A large fallen tree trunk lay in our path. It was so thick that I wasn’t even sure if we could climb over it, and going around was going to be a problem, as it must have been several hundred feet tall like the others, and stretched out on all sides of us like a wall.

  “Hmmm,” Kodiak mused, glancing around for a way past.

  “Great,” Curafin grumbled.

  “Think we can climb it?” Sabotenda asked.

  “Too smooth,” I replied, not seeing any hand or footholds on the smooth, stony trunk. “Might have to go around.”

  “Don’t do that,” a voice hissed from somewhere behind us. I spun around, a frost arrow instantly nocked and drawn back, searching for the source of the voice. “Stitches will help you…yes…Stitches knows these woods.”

  “Where are you!?” I cried out. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My group stood ready for anything.

  “Anyone see him!?” Kodiak hissed.

  “Nothing!” Curafin replied.

  “No!” Curafin whispered.

  “Show yourself!” I shouted into the mist, my bow creaking slightly under the strain of my draw.

  “Weapons make Stitches nervous,” the voice whispered. “No weapons or no Stitches. No Stitches—no help.”

  “We’re not putting our weapons down,” I said to the voice. “But we’re not hostile. If you aren’t here to hurt us, we’re not going to hurt you.”

  My voice hung in the air for a long moment, and I almost thought our mysterious visitor had gone, but then finally, something moved above us.

  I looked up to see a figure moving high up in the mist. He appeared as if from nowhere, and I almost thought it was some kind of vanishing spell or ability, but then I saw a slight shadow of the hollowed out alcove in the tree where he’d been hiding.

  “Stitches is friendly,” he said with glee before flinging himself down from the tree and landing in front of us.

  35

  Stitches

  Stitches was a sickly looking young man, gaunt and impossibly skinny, barely more than skin and bones. Standing next to a group of undead, he would blend right in, except for his eyes, which were more than alive, burning with an intensity the likes of which I had never seen. It was as though a thousand thoughts were racing around in his brain, each one taking momentary precedence over the others.

  It gave me an uneasy feeling to look at him. He felt unpredictable, like a lone scavenger that had been out on his own for too long and forgotten what it was like to talk to people. He twitched slightly when he moved, like he was hopped up on something. His armor was tattered leather, clearly junk he’d looted off monsters. There was no way it had any decent armor level.

  Stitches—Level 100.

  “Stitches is my name,” he cackled. He was keen enough to notice me taking a moment to inspect him, which both scared me and impressed me at the same time. It meant he was very observant, but coupling that with his strange mannerism and way of talking, made him unpredictable. “Forgotten! Like the Forgotten Grove! But I—I help you. Yes, I help you. Many groups get stuck at the tree-wall, but Stitches helped them all.”

  I felt Kodiak glance at me with concern, but I kept my eyes locked onto Stitches.

  “You’re saying you know a way past this…tree-wall?” I asked him. He nodded emphatically, his shoulders twitching up and down as though hiding a laugh.

  “Yes!” he cried out, springing forward so quickly I almost let my arrow fly. He came crashing towards me like he was going to attack, but tucked into a roll that took him tumbling past me towards the enormous fallen tree in our path. “Yes, yes, yes! Stitches knows the way.”

  Kodiak stepped up beside me and whispered in my ear. “Sunken?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I think he’s just nuts,” Sabotenda said quietly as Stitches ran his hands across the solid face of the fallen tree.

  “Here! Here!” he yelped, digging his fingers into a crack hidden in the wood. He tugged hard and a piece of the trunk fell out, a panel, almost like a door. He tossed it to the ground and leapt into the air like a circus monkey, clapping his hands excitedly above his head. “This way! Stitches will show you the way! Come, come!”

  Stitches hurled himself into the hole in the tree, disappearing into the darkness. I glanced around at the rest of my party, who were all as stunned as I was.

  “Could be a trap,” Sabotenda suggested quietly.

  “I don’t think he’s capable of that kind of planning,” Kodiak replied. “I think he’s about one donut short of a dozen.”

  “He could easily have friends waiting on the other side though,” I suggested. “No telling how many.”

  “Let’s just go around,” Curafin said. “Only be a few minutes.”

  “Could be longer,” I replied. “Besides, even if he is trying to trap us, we’re not far from Cara. We’ll be able to come back
in no time. I’ll go ahead, you guys follow.”

  Without waiting for more discussion, I put my bow away and walked over to the secret entrance through the tree where Stitches had disappeared. Poking my head inside, I was barely able to make out a passage hollowed out through the trunk, leading off to my left. Not too far down was another hole leading out to the other side.

  I ducked down and moved inside when I heard Stitches’ voice.

  “No! No!” he shouted. I heard the clang of metal against metal and Stitches cry out in pain. “Stay away from Stitches! Stitches has done nothing to you!”

  Drawing my daggers, I raced forward through the hollowed out trunk as fast as I could. I leapt out into a clearing on the other side where Stitches was kneeling, a chipped short sword in his hand, clutching at his stomach. Before him lay the corpse of another player, clad in an impressive suit of plate mail. Stitches looked up with relief when he saw me.

  “They attacked Stiches!” he hissed. “Tried to kill me…”

  “Who were they?” I asked, glancing around in case there were more of them lying in wait.

  “Evil…sneaky ones,” he spat, glaring at the fallen knight before him. “Trying to steal the woods from Stitches…just like her!”

  “Her?” I asked. “Her who?”

  Stitches’ entire body shook at my question and he looked down at his feet as though he’d just shared something personal he was ashamed of. He shook his head and stood up, shaking with fright, as the rest of my group emerged from the tree behind me.

  “What happened!?” Kodiak asked.

  “Someone tried to jump Stitches,” I replied. “But he—”

  “Stitches took care of them!” he interrupted with a cry, kicking the corpse angrily like the player could somehow still feel it. Sabotenda glanced warily at me. I knew what he was getting at; Stitches was odd, but I couldn’t help but feel bad for him at the same time. Who knew what his story was or what had happened to him to make him this way. Jack would have showed him compassion, and after all, he was trying to help us.