Shadow For Hire: Books 1-4 (A LitRPG Series)

by Adam Drake

  “I have to admit something,” said Thorm. The steel of his great broadsword glinted with sunlight.

  “What's that?” I said. A scattering of people broke from the trees and charged at us.

  “I'm having a lot of fun,” he said, and smirked. His mustache arched comically with his mischievous smile.

  I laughed, despite myself. “Yeah, me too.”

  Behind us the reverberations boomed as the others continued to hammer at the door.

  Suddenly, a pair of townspeople scrabbled over a pile of ore to our side and leapt at us.

  Thankfully, Phlixx saw them first and shouted a warning.

  I instantly switched the bow in my grip to my sword and swung, catching one of them across the chest. He collapsed.

  You have struck Mutated Townsperson for 30 hit points of damage. You have killed the Mutated Townsperson. You have gained 185 experience points.

  Swords Skill Increased! Level 9, 63%

  Thorm easily dispatched the other one.

  “Vee,” Thorm said, as he took out another surprise attacker. “What's that over there?” I looked to where he nodded.

  Back along the rail line and wedged up against the rocks was a shack.

  “Dunno,” I said. “Outhouse?” I switched to my bow and fired into the oncoming crowd. They would be on us soon.

  “Or maybe a way into the mines?” Thorm suggested. He pulsed his magical barrier and two people bounced off it. The knight quickly took them out.

  He could be right. This was a game after all. If we were supposed to gain entrance to the mine, perhaps the method was nearby.

  Thorm glanced at me. “Go!” he said. “Take a quick look. I'll hold them back.”

  There was no time to debate this, but it pained me to leave him here alone against such great odds. Still, I nodded once and moved backwards a few steps, firing several volleys into the approaching mass.

  The horde was now streaming from the trees and charging at Thorm in a full run.

  “Go!” Thorm shouted. He swung his broadsword, doing his best to keep from being surrounded.

  I turned and ran. The second I crossed into the shadows of the looming rock face I switched on my Shadow ability. Hopefully, this would give me several seconds before the crowd noticed me.

  The shack door was chained and fastened with a padlock. I barked a laugh, swung my sword at the wood of the door and shattered it. Inside was an array of mining tools; pickaxes, shovels, a wheel-barrel. Nothing obvious that would unseal a magically closed door.

  “Oh,” said Phlixx from my shoulder. “Look, candy!” He pointed a stack of crates, one of which was open. In it was an even row of red sticks.

  Dynamite.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I scooped up a stick of dynamite and put them it in my inventory. When I tried to grab more I stopped. The rest looked rotted through and probably unstable.

  You have acquired an item: Dynamite (x1), This dynamite looks old but still usable. Explosive damage (150-200 hit points). Light it and run.

  “These will have to do,” I said. Outside I looked to Thorm.

  The Holy Knight had been forced back several steps and was swinging wildly. He was no longer using his magical barrier. No doubt, he had exhausted its limit and was waiting for it to recharge.

  Then the surge overtook him, dozens of people clamoring over him. He was instantly smothered and couldn't swing his sword.

  “Thorm!” I shouted and began in his direction to help.

  But before I could take more than a couple of running steps, a bright light exploded from under the mass of people. It grew in intensity, like a sun, and I had to look away and close my eyes. People shrieked, not in rage, but in agony.

  After a few moments, the light faded, and I looked.

  Thorm stood with his armor glowing brightly. At his feet and all around him were mounds of white ash which were picked up by the wind. The people that attacked him and those within several dozen paces had been completely incinerated.

  He had cast a Nova spell.

  The town folk beyond the spell's radius had actually stopped to cover their faces. They now recovered and surged forward at Thorm, raging and screaming.

  Thorm saw me and I held up a stick of dynamite. He shouted, “Get it to the door! Now!”

  Before I could protest, the people were on him again. The knight swung his sword, fighting with a rabid energy.

  I forced down the instinct to join him. He was right, I needed to get the dynamite to the door, so I ran.

  The metal of the door was badly mauled by Mudhoof and Feign's efforts. “I think we got this,” Mudhoof said. Feign tossed another snowball, and the minotaur swung his ax.

  The door shattered. Pieces of frozen metal caved inward and fell in a pile on the ground.

  I looked at the dynamite in my hand with disappointment. “What do I do with this then?”

  There was a commotion behind us. As I turned, I froze in shock.

  The trees of the forest were parting and the gigantic form of the Demon King emerged. He did not walk, but floated along the ground. The townsfolk whooped and hollered at his arrival and stopped running. They parted like a living sea for their God to pass through.

  Thorm still fought, but once the Demon King appeared he knew the jig was up. With one final swing which cast his attackers aside like rag-dolls, he turned toward us and ran.

  But he was too late.

  The Demon King paused and lifted his huge wooden staff. He pointed it at the fleeing knight. An arc of black lightning shot from the end of the staff and hit Storm, fully enveloping him.

  “Thorm!” I cried out. When I took a step forward Mudhoof grabbed my arm.

  “No!” Mudhoof said, with a look of dismay. “We can't help him now.”

  He was right, but I had to try. I summoned an arrow and fired it blindly at the Demon King. But before it crossed half the distance it ricocheted off a magical barrier of some kind.

  Thorm twisted and contorted under the intensity of the black lightening. His eyes widened, and he seemed to look in our direction.

  I gasped. His flesh was lined with thick black veins.

  The townsfolk resumed their assault, only this time they ignored Thorm and surged around him. They raced toward us.

  “We have to go,” Feign said. He tossed a snowball out onto the rail line and a patch of ice formed. This only slowed the towns folk's crazed progress.

  “That was my last one,” the ice mage declared, and pulled a dagger out from the folds of his cloak. He was prepared for a hand to hand fight.

  “Back up!” Mudhoof said, holding his ax at the ready. We withdrew inside the mine entrance and peered outward.

  Thorm's body began to rapidly contort and bulge. We'd seen this horrifying transformation before.

  “There's nothing we can do for him,” Mudhoof said. “But we can't hold them back and deal with that Demon twit, too.”

  I pulled my eyes off of the thing that had been Thorm as he continued to morph into something unspeakable and looked at the dynamite in my hand.

  “I need a light. Some fire!” I looked at Feign.

  The ice mage shrugged and snowflakes cascaded from his robe. “Not my expertise,” he said.

  “I shall warm your heart, my sweet!” Phlixx said. He held his little crossbow up, and the bolt was aflame.

  “That will do,” I said and held the wick of three sticks to it. They sparked and burned down.

  “Run!” I said and tossed the dynamite at the inner edge of the mine entrance where people were scrambling in.

  As I turned to run into the darkness with the others, I caught one final glance of Thorm. He was huge, and bloated and nothing like he was before.

  Then the world exploded.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Darkness enveloped me.

  For several long moments my avatar would not respond. My view screen showed all the normal icons along the edges, but black was all I saw.

  Then I heard Feign
invoke a spell. A blue light appeared, and I blinked at its source.

  A icy glowing orb floated over the shoulder of Feign, who was sitting in a heap on the ground. Dust choked the air, and the mage waved a hand at it.

  “Is everyone okay?” He asked.

  Mudhoof had been knocked flat onto the ground, his ax buried in the rock wall beside him. He shook his head and stood. “I'm fine,” he grumbled. “Never better. You, Vee?”

  I had been tossed up against the mine wall but my health indicator showed I'd only taken a few percentage points of damage. Other than that, I was none the worse for wear.

  The mine entrance was completely demolished, and the cave-in of rock and rubble looked deep.

  “I don't think they'll be getting through that anytime soon,” I said and stood. I dusted myself off, then realized something was missing. “Phlixx?” I said and looked around.

  Feign pointed at the collapsed entrance. “I believe he is under there.”

  I looked but did not see the little ferret's body. Then I calmed down. His companion icon on my view screen had switched to a timer. He had been killed but could be summoned once the timer expired.

  I saw his death message in my combat log.

  Your companion, Phlixx, has suffered crushing damage of 250 hit points. Phlixx has died.

  Mudhoof wrenched his ax from the wall. “Have I mentioned how I think this quest sucks?” He looked at us. “Does it bear repeating?”

  I shook my head. “I'm in agreement. This quest is a little crazy.”

  Mudhoof snorted. “We've been overwhelmed from the get-go. I like a challenge and all, and yeah, obtaining a Legendary Item should be tough, but that out there -,” he pointed a thumb in the direction of the former entrance. “That is just plain FILTERED.”

  I offered a rueful grin. “You will get no argument from me.”

  Feign said, “Any idea what happened to Thorm? Is he now a part of the Demon King's army? How would that work? He's a player.”

  “I dunno,” I said. “Let's see if I kind send him a chat request.”

  To my surprise, Thorm answered. As the chat window opened, I angled it for the others to view.

  I looked at the window in surprise. It was Thorm, but he wasn't wearing his shiny armor, or his huge helmet. Instead, he had on a simple white jerkin. In his hand he held a wooden training sword.

  The first words Thorm said was, “Did you get my stuff?”

  Despite myself, I laughed. “No, Thorm, sorry. We were kind of busy as you noticed.”

  Mudhoof said, “Dude. What happened? Last we saw you were being turned into a pretzel by the Demon twit.”

  Thorm shrugged. “I'm not entirely sure. As soon as he zapped me I lost control of my avatar. I could see what was happening but was helpless. None of my icons would work. Then I found myself here.” He turned to look behind him.

  Other very blond men and women were running around a grassy field chasing pigs and trying to hit them with wooden swords. The Holy Knight newbie zone.

  “You died,” I said, aghast. “Oh, Thorm, I am so sorry about that. We tried to help.”

  Thorm shrugged and smiled. “Not my first reroll and won't be my last either. Just have to start the grind again. Unfortunately, this means you guys are a man down.”

  “You were our main healer, too,” Mudhoof said. “Things got a whole lot more difficult. And it's bad enough already.”

  “Maybe my death was fortuitous,” Thorm said.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  Thorm smiled. “Because now I can go log in some hours at work. Help pay for my rent.”

  Mudhoof looked confused. “Work? Rent? What are those?” He laughed.

  “Sorry, guys,” said Thorm. “Good luck with the quest and don't forget me if you finish it.” He grinned.

  “You're still an equal partner,” I said. Mentioning the split deposit didn't feel like it would lift anyone's mood at the moment. I'd save that for later because we'd probably need some good news after we all rerolled.

  “I'm not worried,” Thorm said.

  Mudhoof said, “I'll send you a care package of good gear to help you level and gold, too. Once I get to a town with a mailbox. And based on how things are going, you might not have to wait too long.”

  Thorm held up his tiny wooden sword. “Well, if you'll excuse me. I have a butcher who has asked for ten dead pigs. Then he'll want ten more after that. And ten after that. Etcetera, etcetera.”

  As he turned to join his fellow pig chasing newbie-knights the chat screen closed.

  “Bummer,” said Mudhoof, shaking his head.

  Feign peered down the pitch black mine tunnel. “I always hated dungeons. Enclosed spaces and I do not get along.”

  “Well, you're in luck,” said Mudhoof.

  “Why?”

  “Because this not a dungeon. It's a mine.” The minotaur grinned.

  Feign frowned.

  I tried to push the guilt I felt for Thorm's demise out of my mind and called up the quest log.

  'After surviving the encounter with the Demon King, your only choice now is to delve deeper into the mine and maybe find out how he gained entrance into this realm.'

  “Delve deeper,” I said. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Our only one, apparently,” Feign said.

  “Hey, Snowball,” said Mudhoof. “Think you can make us a couple of those glow orbs.”

  “Of course,” said Feign. Two more orbs paired off from his and floated over to hover above Mudhoof and I. “And please don't call me Snowball.”

  Mudhoof insisted on taking point and we began our walk down the mine tunnel. At first the slope downward was gradual, then it became more pronounced. There were bits of a rail line along the ground but it looked unfinished.

  Occasionally, there would be a vein of blue ore marbled in the rock. But when I queried the game as to what it could be it offered no answer.

  “Something ahead,” Mudhoof said after a while of walking. “Looks like a side tunnel.”

  The new tunnel branched off to our left, but its darkness offered no clue where it led.

  “Stick to the main tunnel, or take this new one?” Mudhoof asked. Both Mudhoof and Feign looked to me.

  I sighed. “The quest log says delve deeper. And this new one looks to be angling down more than ours.” I shrugged. “Let's follow it for a while. We can always come back.”

  They nodded, and we turned onto the new tunnel. Soon, we began to see webbing along the ceiling and on the walls. Thick webbing.

  “Better not be spiders,” Mudhoof said. “I hate 'em. In game and in real life.”

  As we progressed, the webs became more of a nuisance as they encroached more into the middle our path.

  I was about to suggest we go back when a cry came from somewhere ahead.

  We all stopped.

  “Was that a person?” Feign asked.

  “Listen,” said Mudhoof.

  Several heartbeats later we heard it again. “Help!” Someone said.

  Mudhoof gripped his uber ax more tightly. “Better not be spiders,” he said and walked forward with caution.

  The tunnel opened up into a small chamber. Webbing clotted every available inch of space from the high ceiling to the rocky ground.

  Jammed up in one nook along the wall was a cocoon. Inside it, wrapped up to his neck in webbing was a man. He looked at us wide-eyed with terror.

  “Help me! Please!” He said. Sweat glistened his skin. I noted with relief that he did not have any black veins.

  I said to him, “Easy. We'll get you down from there. Don't worry.”

  “It... It's going to eat me! Please help!” He cried.

  Frustrated, Mudhoof said, “Well, where is it?”

  The cocooned man said, “I don't know. It was just here a second...” His eyes looked upward in surprise.

  The three of us did the same.

  From an alcove high up, something emerged. Large and fast.

  Feign's orbs float
ed upward and illuminated it.

  It was a monstrosity of a spider. Purple in color and covered in a fine hair, its giant fangs dripped with thick poison. At first it glared at us and the light from the orbs reflected in the cluster of eyes at the center of hits head. Then it lunged.