Quest for Camlan: A LitRPG Adventure (Camlan Realm Book 1)

by A. T. Gilbert

  Maybe they’re friendly. Like a bluebird or something. Not every animal in this game is going to want to attack me. I hope. I take a few more steps forward, and the rustling noises increase. Whatever out there is surrounding me. I start to hurry down the path. Maybe this thing has a set territory and I can avoid it by moving away fast enough.

  Of course, it’s my haste that finally triggers the attack.

  The creature comes at me from behind and I feel a sharp pinch on the back of my head. Before I can turn to see what caused it, another pinch on my left temple and a third on my right shoulder disorient me. The fourth attack comes from the front, though, straight toward my face. I throw my arms up to protect my eyes, screaming and ducking to the ground to avoid the bird.

  Birds. So much for my hope for friendly bluebirds. Instead, otherworldly enormous crows dive bomb me as I crash through the brush. I try to protect my head with one hand and slash the Dagger at them at the same time, but they’re too quick for me. The Dagger is too small to even hope to connect.

  After I miss four birds in a row, I rethink my strategy. I could run from them, but that hasn’t worked so far. Who knows: maybe the entire forest is their territory. I withstand another two dive-bombs while I stow the Dagger and arm myself with one of the Clubs.

  “Okay, birdie,” I say, taking a batter’s stance. “Come at me, bro.”

  Yes, I know I sound ridiculous. But I feel like I have to make up for the screaming and ducking a few moments ago. Especially if my video is being streamed to millions of viewers.

  I hear a rustle to my right and turn immediately to see another crow on his way to peck a chunk out of my face. I swing and connect, knocking it out of the air.

  [+40 XP]

  Excellent. This works much better than the dagger. Another rustle has me turning back to the right, then a third back around to my left.

  [+38 XP]

  [+41 XP]

  [+40 XP]

  Every fourth or fifth attack I miss and take some hits to my health, but it’s not bad and in no time I have cleared this section of crows.

  Attention: You have unlocked Active Skill: Clubbing Level 2

  Description: Even moving targets are no match for your strength and dexterity

  Reward: +70 XP

  I hurry deeper into the forest as I wave away the dialog box. I want to be as far away way as possible before those things respawn. The narrow path turns a bit to the left around a wide tree trunk and, inexplicably, the forest seems to get even darker.

  Those birds were a pain and if they are only the first obstacle in Foyle Forest, who knows what other nightmares are waiting for me.

  Since I’m surrounded by trees, I have an idea. I wonder if I can use my initiative skill plus my Woodcraft to create something new from the branches in this forest. Without a specific quest, none of the loose, available branches on the forest floor glow for me, but poking around under the bush reveals a likely looking candidate.

  Not for the first time, I wish I had some kind of light source here. I can see maybe ten or twelve feet ahead of me down the path, but just barely.

  As before, I hold the branch in one hand, Dagger in the other and move to cut some of the smaller twigs off.

  Nothing happens.

  I purse my lips, determined this time, and try again.

  This time I get a message.

  Attention: You are attempting Magic Woodcraft

  Requirements: Level 20 or direct training from sorcerer

  Ok, well fine. I guess the magical branch found in the magical forest is what makes it Magical Woodcraft. I discard it. Who knows what I’ll be going for when I reach Level Twenty.

  I continue down the forest path and am somewhat relieved to notice there is a slight brightness ahead of me. Maybe it’s a clearing. Maybe it’s some kind of fire monster. Either way, it will likely give me a reprise from this oppressive, magical wood claustrophobia.

  The branches crossing the path get denser just before the light. I take a deep breath, push past them and freeze at what greets me.

  Chapter 11

  Past the cluster of branches, the path opens up to a small clearing. The canopy overhead is thinner, letting in plenty of natural light. In the center of the clearing sits a squat, ancient cottage with a thatched roof, navy blue shutters and flower boxes at each window. It’s quaint. Disney-ish. And it would be totally out of place in this creepy, haunted forest were it not for its guardian.

  An enormous dark gray hound lies chained just outside the front door. It is sleeping, or has its eyes closed, and doesn’t yet seem to sense me.

  Attention: You have discovered the Dwelling of Gemma

  Description: Rumored by some to be a witch, Gemma prefers to live isolated in the middle of Foyle Forest, where visitors are few and far between.

  Reward: +70 XP

  Warning: Gemma Is not friendly. You may be able to curry her favor, but be on your guard.

  A giant hound and a witch and I’m not sure where I should go to continue my trek through the forest. If I stray from the path I could go around, or I could risk the dangers for the chance to level up. Maybe there’s a way I can get through this without it coming to blows.

  I’m not sure what to do so I check the leaderboard before I decide.

  Damn. I guess I have the least XP of everyone at Level Twelve? I still have to move ahead of all those others. That settles it. No reward without a risk. I decide to take my chances with the witch and her puppy dog.

  The hound remains sleeping as I slowly move closer. I hold a Club in one hand, Dagger in the other, not sure either one of them will do me any good, but they are my only choices. The clearing is wide open; there is literally nothing for me to hide behind as I approach. All Gemma has to do is look out her window to see me coming.

  I’m not sure exactly what to do here. Should I try to wake and defeat the hound? Should I knock on the door and try to engage the NPC? Should I just wait? I can’t risk dying but I also need to start leveling up.

  As I take a few steps closer, I realize the hound is snoring. Its enormous head, about the size of a German Shepherd on its own, emits a low rumble with each inhale. It’s going to be difficult for Gemma to hear me over that. I need to get her attention without getting too close. About ten yards from the cottage is a well, and around the well the meadow is bare down to dirt and rocks.

  Perfect.

  Still without disturbing the dog, I make my way to the well, take up one of the palm-sized stones and …

  I am not good at this. I never played any sport growing up, let alone pitched a baseball game. I decide my best bet is underhand.

  “Please oh please oh please,” I murmur to myself and gently toss the rock towards the cottage front door. It falls about six feet short, landing much closer to the sleeping beast than its original target.

  I hitch in my breath as the animal stirs, but it doesn’t wake.

  I need to try again. I take up another small stone and toss it underhand again. This time it knocks against the lower half of the front door before falling to the ground.

  I wait. How long should I wait? What if she’s not even in there? What if it was too soft or she’s hard of hearing?

  I take a deep breath and try with a third stone. Just as it leaves my hand the door opens, revealing a petite, middle-aged woman.

  The stone hits her left side, right in the rib cage.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper. The again, more loudly, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  I hold my hands above my head, but hang on to the Club. Just in case.

  “You!” The tiny woman shouted at me, pointing her finger and catching up her skirt with the other hand so she can stomp toward me unimpeded.

  As she passes her hound, the dog wakes up, sniffing around for a moment before he too notices me and bristles. The beast growls at me.

  “Throwing rocks! Disturbing Marmaduke!” Her voice gets more shrill with each exclamation. “Stealing water from my well,
no doubt!”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.” I still have not dropped my weapon. “I was just passing through. I’m sorry.”

  “Just passing through? You expect me to believe that? When you’re holding a Club in your hand and you throw rocks at my house?”

  I have no response to that. She’s not wrong. I do have a Club in my hand. I did throw rocks at her house.

  “Well?” She is now standing very close to me and, if she were taller than five feet, she could be right in my face. Instead she stands with one hand on her waist glaring up at me. Her short white hair shakes wildly with each bob of her head. She takes a big huffing breath and one step back, tilting her head to the side and looking at me more carefully.

  “What is your name, boy?”

  I swallow, hands still in the air. “SirAsh3r.”

  “That’s quite a title, SirAsh3r. Especially for someone dressed as you are with no weapon other than a Club.”

  I look down at my bare homespun; again, she’s not wrong.

  “Oh, put your hands down, boy. I’m not going to hurt you. But if you hit me with another rock, Marmaduke might.”

  I lower my hands. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Now that she has decided I am no threat, she turns her back to me and walks to where the hound is still tied up. This tiny woman only reaches her dog’s shoulders when he’s standing up. She reaches up to scratch him behind his ear and soothes him to stop growling.

  “No need for ma’am. You can call me Gemma. Everyone does. Tell me, SirAsh3r, what are you really doing here?”

  I try to think quickly. If I’m going to start leveling up faster, I need experience points. I can’t keep just battling the rodents and other annoying creatures that populate Camlan.

  “Well, I did tell you the truth that I am just passing through Foyle Forest, when I came across your cottage. But I thought, perhaps anyone living out here all by themselves could maybe use some assistance?”

  I know I laid it on thick, but I really need her to give me a chance, or a chain of chances, to earn a lot of experience points.

  Gemma looks at me thoughtfully. “Assistance, hm? What exactly do you think I need help with?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m young and strong and can carry or lift or … climb? Or maybe you need me to avenge you on some local monster? Or …” I’m reaching. I’m used to NPCs just handing out quests.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and doesn’t take her eyes off me.

  “Well, if you really want to assist me then today is your lucky day,” she says with a sly smile. “There is something I can use your help with.”

  “Absolutely, ma’am. Um, Gemma. I’m happy to help.”

  “Wonderful.” She claps her hands. “I am in the middle of a very important project for the Innkeeper in Allentown, but I’ve run out of the materials I need for it. Can you help me gather some?”

  “Yes, I can help you with that. Can you give me a suggestion where to start?”

  Her smile widens. “You did say you were a climber, right? I need six of the Crow’s Nests from the tops of the trees surrounding this clearing. Climb them for me and bring me the nests intact and I’m sure I can reward you in some way.

  Quest offered: Bring ‘em Down

  Description: Help Gemma collect six Crow’s Nests from the nearby trees so she can finish her project

  Reward: +120 XP, + 5% regard with Gemma, variable other rewards

  She points to one of the tall chestnut trees closest to where we’re standing.

  Glimmering between a couple of the highest branches I see a light shimmering that I hadn’t noticed before. The same kind of glow I saw on the Branches on the other side of the lake. When I accept Gemma’s quest, the game must be marking the nests for me.

  “Okay. Yeah. I can climb that.”

  I scan the base of the tree for any kind of hand hold or foothold to get started. “Uh … Any tips or hints?”

  Gemma has already turned to go back into her cottage and I’m not sure she heard me. “Just knock on the door when you’re done,” she calls over her shoulder.

  I take a deep breath and nod. Sure. No problem. I can climb. I can’t remember the last time I climbed in real life, but this is different. I can do all kinds of things in game that are otherwise impossible.

  Chapter 12

  I cross the clearing to the closest tree, feeling the hound watching me. The rough bark reminds me a little of oak trees, so maybe I can manage to find purchase or traction against the surface. I look up, up to where the nest is highlighted with faint golden light against the darkness of the canopy. I have to do this six times, so I’d better get started.

  I reach up over my head and try to find a small indentation to get a grasp. The uneven texture of the bark gives me a few tiny options to choose from. My thin leather shoes allow me to use my toes and feet to grip, but I have such difficulty finding purchase. Wait. There. Okay. One foot has a toehold. Here we go.

  I pull myself up. I’m all of two feet off the ground and barely clinging to the trunk of the tree with my fingertips. I blindly feel around with my other foot, trying to find the next spot, a few inches higher, that will move me ever upward.

  I think I’ve got an option and pull myself up another step, but my fingers lose their purchase on the bark and I slide roughly back down to the ground. I’ve made no progress. The pain and injury to my hands fades quickly but it’s not nothing.

  [-12 HP]

  Well, I can’t do that over and over again. I wait a few moments to let my health slowly regenerate, and scan the other trees in the clearing for more signs of nests. Maybe it’s just this tree. Maybe other trees have been coded to be easier to climb.

  There are hints of gold shimmering in many of the surrounding treetops, so I walk to the next one to try it instead. I repeat the same steps, grasping and clawing at the trunk of the tree, thinking I need to put more stat points into Strength if I am going to be able to drag myself up trees five more times. I get a little bit farther this time—five steps up—before losing my grip and falling to the ground again.

  [-17 HP]

  Damnit. I move to the next tree over that shows signs of a Crow’s Nest and try again. And again and again.

  After failing to climb the fifth tree I give up for a minute to reassess. I sit on the grass a few feet into the cottage’s clearing to let my health regenerate and figure out what I’m doing wrong. There must be a trick to this. I’ve wasted so much time—either this is a quest that should not have been offered to a Level Twelve player, or I’m missing a component.

  “Giving up?”

  I hear Gemma walking up to me in the grass and I twist around to greet her. As she reaches me she hands me a small cup full of cool, sweet water.

  [+11 HP]

  “Finish that. It will give you your strength.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So.” She clasps her hands behind her back and rocks on the balls of her feet. “No nests for me yet, eh?”

  “No. Not yet. Whenever I feel like I’m getting close I slip and fall.”

  “How close have you gotten?”

  I grimace. “Maybe eight feet up?” I reply, padding the real number by a decent margin.

  “Not bad, SirAsh3r. Not bad. Especially considering you did all that without help.”

  I keep my mouth shut. She’s watching me for a reaction. I knew there had to be more to this quest. The game isn’t fun if it’s not possible to progress.

  “Imagine how much farther you could get with the right supplement.”

  I swallow. Finally. Here it is. “Do you happen to know where I could find such a supplement?”

  “In fact, I do!” She grins and turns to point into the woods behind her cottage. “There’s no path, but if you trek into the trees far enough you’ll find the Scaling Weed. Bring one plant back and I’ll show you what you need to do to enhance your climbing abilities.”

  Quest offered: Got any Weed?

  Descriptio
n: Find a Scaling Weed plant and bring back three leaves.

  Reward: unknown

  “Great! Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  My health points are again at max, mostly thanks to Gemma’s water, and I’m feeling energized again.

  The knee-high shrubs at the edge of the forest form a low barrier I need to push through. One hand holds my Small Dagger while the other pushes branches aside so I can squeeze past. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, but since I accepted the quest, I imagine the weed will glimmer a bit in the darkness for me.

  Deeper and deeper in, I wish there were a path I could follow. Years of game play has taught me that straying from a designated path is a sure way to put yourself at risk. I try to stay as quiet as I can, which is next to impossible with the foliage as dense as it is.

  About twenty feet in, I pause to look around. The weed may be small, low to the ground, staying hidden under these shrubs and vines. I may need to hack—

  What is that?

  As I stand here, looking for a sign of the Scaling Weed, I hear a rustle in the undergrowth. I am standing perfectly still—there is something else here with me.

  The rustle creeps closer. Not any louder or more aggressive, but unmistakably closer. I can’t tell where it’s coming from. I raise my hand with the dagger, prepared to attack as soon as I can see what the heck I’m supposed to be fighting.

  The rustling grows louder, faster, closer …

  A hideous boar, the size of a rhinoceros, charges at me. Thankfully there only seems to be one. I slash at it with the dagger as soon as it is within arm’s reach. I miss its head and any sensitive area, and just manage to slide a shallow cut down its side. The hide of this animal is so thick as to be almost impenetrable. If I’m going to be able to defeat it, I will have to land better hits.

  As it passes me, I lose sight of it in the dark forest. I can still hear it, though. A few feet away the boar makes an arching turn and circles back towards me. I ready my dagger again. This time I know what to expect. I move to slash at its snout before I can even see it and this time I hit my mark. The beast squeals and twists away from my dagger, but I’ve left a long slash almost all the way to its eye.