Eden's Gate: The Sparrow: A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  Donovan lowered his head and took a deep breath. “It’s the way things have been for ages. Dark elves are not—”

  “We’re not treated as kin!” Garrik interrupted. “And now the Queen has decided to toss her trash in Edgewood just the same as she’s discarded us!”

  All went silent as Garrik turned and marched forcefully to one of the shacks that was in the immediate vicinity of the fire pit. As soon as he stepped through the door, he slammed it hard, causing small pieces of wood to splinter around the door frame.

  There was a long, awkward silence, and Aaron and I looked at each other. I suddenly felt a lot less comfortable about our stay in Edgewood and wondered if I had made a mistake by accepting building rights there; perhaps taking the gold to build in the Freelands would have been a better idea.

  “Garrik is right about some things, but we should still obey the orders from our Queen,” Donovan said to the remaining elves. “I don’t like the idea as much as any of you, but—”

  “Let’s give them a chance,” a female elf spoke up. The girl—who I would’ve guessed was 19 or 20 years old had she been a human—stepped forward and looked at all the other elves around her. Unlike Adeelee, who had a streak of blonde running down her back, the dark elf girl had jet black hair that had been cut to just a couple inches below her chin, and she wore a thin, shiny, black leather top that hugged her curves in all the right places. Around her waist was a black cloth skirt that had been cut asymmetrically, and tall, dark gray boots rose up to her knees. “We may not be welcome in other people’s homes, but that doesn’t mean we have to be as unwelcoming.”

  “But they’re humans…” one of the other elves muttered low.

  “Yes, they’re humans,” the girl acknowledged, “but if the Queen deeded them building rights, then she must have seen good in them.”

  I nodded. “We are good people. The Queen would like for me to work as ambassador between the two forests. We wish no harm to the dark elves. We’ll look out for orcs or any other threats that—”

  “It’s a slap in the face to make a human an ambassador of Edgewood!” an elf cried out.

  “A neutral party,” the girl countered with a slight tilt of her chin. “If a dark elf were to work as an ambassador, he or she would receive bias from the other elves, and a High Elf ambassador would spend as little time around us as possible. This could be a good thing for Edgewood.”

  “We won’t cause you any trouble,” I assured. “And we’ll treat the forest as our own.”

  “Like I said,” Donovan said loudly. “They’ve already staked the ground and are deep in the building process. If this doesn’t work out, we can decide what to do later. For now, we should follow the Queen’s orders.”

  There was a bit of mumbling amongst the elves, and gradually, I saw a few of them give reluctant nods. Some of them seemed displeased, but others joined in and nodded as well. Without warning, the elves began to disperse and go back to their homes.

  “Let any other elves not in attendance know,” Donovan called out, “humans now live in Edgewood per order of the Queen!” Donovan turned to us and handed me back the building rights. “That’s the best that I can do for now, but you should be on guard nonetheless. No one is under any obligation to listen to me.”

  “Thanks,” I said, tucking the rights into my bag. “Is there a runestone around here?”

  “Due west about a kilometer, you can find a runestone in the middle of some ancient ruins.”

  “What about a mining spot?” Aaron asked. “Is there any place with metals near here?”

  “There’s an old mine also west but slightly north of the ruins.” Donovan cleared his throat. “You wish to go inside?”

  “Just gathering information for now,” Aaron replied. “I’ll need tools before I can do anything.”

  “We should head for the runestone,” I said. “We’re still bound to Gramora.”

  “Bound?” Donovan asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion, having no idea that Aaron and I were Reborns.

  “We last prayed in Gramora,” I clarified.

  Donovan nodded and then shook his head, still looking confused. “You traveled to Gramora at your levels… and survived?”

  I smiled. “‘Survived’ would be the best way to describe it.” I slapped the back of my hand against Aaron’s chest. “With the help of a few friends.”

  Aaron smiled.

  “Well, you should be careful if you travel to the runestone,” Donovan said. “Kobolds litter the area and there are probably many inside as well. We elves never venture down the mine shaft. Not that we’d need to; no one in Edgewood is a miner.”

  “Kobolds?” I asked. I was familiar with kobolds in other games. The usually came in all sorts of renditions, so you never knew what to expect other than them being on the opposite side of good. “What sort of levels are they?”

  Donovan shrugged. “Maybe level 10, maybe 15. It’s hard to say as things change rapidly around here.”

  “Could be tough,” Aaron warned.

  I nodded. The level 11 skeletons that we had fought in the Gramora dungeon were difficult even with Jax. And the two level 19 arachnid guards we fought would have spelled instant death if it had just been Aaron and I alone.

  “I could help you clear the mine,” Donovan said.

  I smiled, surprised by his sudden offer. “Well… that’d be great.”

  Aaron and I glanced at each other.

  “If you could do me a small favor,” he added.

  I took a deep breath. There had to be a catch, right? “Okay, what kind of favor?”

  “There are no vendors in Edgewood, so the dark elves trade with the nearby towns. Unfortunately, most vendors take advantage of our somewhat isolated situation and offer us much less for our goods than they do humans. If you could sell a few items for me in one of the nearby villages, I’d be happy to help you with the mine.”

  You have been offered a quest: 3rd PartyTrader

  Donovan will assist you with the Kobolds at the mine if you’ll sell a few items on his behalf.

  Reward: 250XP

  Do you accept this quest? Accept/Decline

  I was a little put off by what I had seen and heard about the dark elves so far. They weren’t just discriminated against by other elves, but according to Donovan, they were also being taken advantage of by the nearby villagers. Judging by their shabby dress and shabby homes, they were truly getting an all-around raw deal. And thus far, they weren’t living up to their terrible reputation.

  “Sure, I can do that,” I replied.

  You have accepted the quest: 3rd Party Trader!

  It was a simple enough quest that I would’ve done just for the XP, but it would be a good start to me improving my relations with the dark elves.

  Donovan fetched a rucksack from one of the elven shacks, and the three of us hopped on the two remaining horses that the elves had lent us, which we were using while our homes were being constructed. Aaron and I rode on one, while we allowed Donovan to take handle of the other.

  It was only a few minutes of riding through the forest before we were upon the clearing where our homes were being built. Four High Elves were hammering nails into various spots of the already completed frame of my house, and two other elves were doing the same to the frame of Aaron’s. It was clear that my house was going to be roughly the size of Jax’s home while Aaron’s was half the size, but his was still quite livable.

  When the worker elves saw us approaching, they continued working, but their eyes narrowed and glued to our direction—particularly Donovan. It was as if a bear had stumbled out of the forest and into their territory, and they were waiting to see if he attacked.

  “The buildings look good,” Donovan said towards the High Elves.

  The workers didn’t respond to him, but the closest one to me focused his attention on Aaron and I. “Both should be done tomorrow. Be here midday to pick up your keys.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.” He had already told
us once—the first time we had passed—but apparently seeing Donovan had spurred him to give us a reminder.

  We passed the clearing without another word and continued southwest to return to Thorpes.

  “Do they always cold shoulder you?” I asked Donovan. “The High Elves?”

  “Cold shouldering isn’t so bad,” he replied. “The High Elves back there were fairly tame in comparison to how they usually are towards dark elves. I’m sure many of them would rather see us dead.”

  A few hundred meters outside the threshold of Edgewood was a dry, dirt trail that that ran through the rolling landscape of the Freelands. A few meters down that trail were two alternate paths and a sign that pointed in three directions: Thorpes to the southwest, Highcastle to the northeast, and Newich to the southeast.

  “What’s the story with the gear the dark elves in Edgewood are wearing?” I asked Donovan as our horses trotted the trail towards Thorpes. “And your homes—such a stark contrast to what I saw in Mist Vale.”

  “No armorsmiths or adept builders in Edgewood,” Donavan said. “Most dark elves in the forest were soldiers in the Queen’s army before our skin turned. As fighters, we never put much emphasis in crafting, so now we resort to trading whatever we can loot and harvest around Edgewood to get by. And due to the vendors cheating us, we’re the opposite of wealthy.”

  “So you’re just cut off from the Queen?” Aaron asked. “Even after fighting for her?”

  “Disconnected might be a better term.” Donovan sighed. “But it’s the way of the elves. Before I changed, I too was afraid of dark-skinned elves.”

  I shook my head. “But why? You all seem normal enough.”

  “Centuries ago, the elves were in a long, great war, and during that war was the first time elves began to turn. At first, it was thought we just had a skin disease, but soon after, a few who turned went mad and started attacking other elves. Since then, the dark elves have lost most of their trust with our non-dark brethren.”

  “Are you sure that they went mad because of their skin?” I asked.

  Donovan raised his shoulders. “Even now, only minutes after leaving Edgewood, the forest calls for my return. Being denied our natural homes for extended periods of time can be tormenting for elves.”

  I thought hard about their situation the rest of the ride towards Thorpes. The dark elves definitely had an ‘edge’ to them that the High Elves didn’t have, but for the most part they seemed—thus far—like good people. Even Garrik, the guy who didn’t want us in Edgewood, just seemed like he was protecting the dark elves’ best interests.

  When we arrived at Thorpes, we tied our horses off at the stable and went straight into the inn. Aaron and I stepped through the doors first, but as soon as Donovan entered behind us, people started mumbling and everyone’s head turned.

  “Be careful. We’ve got a dark elf in here, boys!” a man who was playing Pig with Bruno and Sully yelled out.

  “Hey! None of that!” the innkeeper scolded. “I welcome anyone who’s peaceful in my inn. If you don’t like it, leave!” The innkeeper turned back towards our group and gave a slight nod.

  We each ordered a mug of beer and took a seat at the table furthest from the group of rowdy gamblers.

  Donovan lifted his rucksack and pushed it across the table. “I imagine it will fetch you about 200 gold,” he said. “If I were sell it myself, I’d be lucky to get 50.” Inside were animal pelts, herbs, some broken gems, and a few rusty daggers.

  Youv’ve received: Weathered Rucksack. Durability: 5/10. Quality: Poor. Rarity: Common. Weight: 7.5 kg.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

  Aaron and I drank half our beers and headed out of the inn, leaving the elf to wait alone. We stopped at the weaponsmith—who had an impressive selection, to which I made a note to return—and the general goods vendor to round up the gold. Donovan’s estimate was accurate, and we walked away with 205 gold for the lot of his items.

  You have completed all requirements for the quest: 3rd Party Trader! Return the gold to Donovan to collect your reward.

  When we arrived back to the inn, Donovan was still waiting calmly in the corner, sipping on his beer. Aaron and I slid in front of our half-empty mugs, and I casually passed the gold over to him.

  He counted the gold coins and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “You are kinder than other humans.”

  You have completed the quest: 3rd Party Trader!

  You have gained 250 XP!

  “No problem,” I replied. “It really wasn’t a big—“

  “Well, well, well…” a voice rang out, cutting me off. I looked up to see three large men walking down the steps from the upstairs room. Each of them had a woman latched to their arms, and judging by the redness in the men’s skin and women straightening their blouses, they had just finished having a bit of fun.

  The tallest of the men—a blond-haired fellow with leather armor and two short swords draped on each side—strolled up to our table first. “A dark elf entertaining two humans?!” He turned to his companions. “When was the last time you saw something like this, fellas?”

  The other two men, both dark-haired, grunted and chuckled. One was sporting a metal breastplate and a dangerous-looking flail. The other was wearing cloth with a belt full of daggers.

  “You two have a lot of balls,” the blond man said. “Hanging around with a dark elf without a care in the world. You must be Reborns!”

  There was a brief moment where everything seemed to go silent, and Aaron and I both looked at each other in confusion. My heart raced. How could they possibly know we were Reborns?”

  The awkward moment was suddenly cut when the three burst out into loud laughter, and their leader-apparent—the blond—started slapping his knee at the idea. “A Reborn?” he clucked. “You know? I heard there’s some madman standing in the streets of Highcastle calling out to everyone that the Reborns have arrived!”

  I swallowed and gave my best fake laugh. “Yeah… funny!”

  The blond man’s laughter vanished instantly, and he frowned. He made a flicking motion with his finger at Donovan’s head, just missing his ears. “You know, we could get a pretty penny if we cut off your ears. I hear that necromancers are still paying top dollar for a fresh pointies.”

  “Hey!” I said, and both Aaron and I jolted out of our chairs.

  The three men grabbed at their weapons, ready to unsheathe them at any moment. Donovan remained calm, just sitting and sipping his beer as if the harassment didn’t bother him at all. The three women who were with the men scurried away to avoid getting caught up in any scuffle.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” I said. “Just leave us alone to our beers, okay?”

  The blond man smiled. “We don’t want any problems either. Just surprised to see a couple of humans sharing a drink with a tainted elf.”

  “He’s a good guy,” I barked. “You don’t know anything about him.”

  The three men burst into laughter again.

  Donovan raised his hand. “Don’t worry, guys. It’s no problem.”

  “A good person?” The blond snickered. “You really are a bizarre lot. Have you been drinking kroka tea?”

  “What’s the hell is kroka tea?” Aaron asked.

  “Psst! A stupid lot too.” The blond waved his hand at us and turned around. “Let’s go, guys. Just leave these two idiots with their little, dark friend.”

  “Yeah… That’s a good idea,” I said low.

  The trio started walking away.

  “Assholes!” Aaron said sharp and low. But apparently, he said it just loud enough that the blond man overheard.

  “What did you say?” the man asked, turning his head back around. He marched forward with his two friends, and as soon as he was in fighting distance, he drew both his swords, one in each hand and swung them in Aaron’s direction. Both of his friends drew their weapons as well.

  Aaron jerked in his seat to dodge, but before the man had gotten a full swing o
ut of either sword, Donovan reached out, knocking the man’s hand back with his fist, then driving another fist into his face. He jolted his gauntlet forward and a tiny arrow whizzed out, striking the man with the breastplate in his arm, causing him to drop his flail.

  The man with the daggers threw one in Donovan’s direction, but the elf dodged it expertly, then reached for the back of the blond man’s head and shoved his face down onto the table. Again, he reached his gauntlet out, and another tiny arrow was nocked and pointed in the dagger wielder’s direction.

  “Enough!” the innkeeper yelled. “I won’t have you fighting in my inn! The three of you, out!”

  The rest of the room was standing to their feet, weapons in hand in case the fight spilled over, and the innkeeper had rounded out of his counter and was holding a large, dangerous looking crossbow in his hands.

  “Out!” the innkeeper yelled again.

  Aaron and I looked at Donovan, and we all straightened ourselves to leave.

  I started to apologize. “We’re sorry about that. We’ll—“

  “Not you!” the innkeeper yelled, pointing his bow at the blond who was reeling his head back, holding on to a bloody nose. “I saw what happened. These guys were the ones who started the fight.”

  “You little fucks…” the blond man snorted, holding one hand over his nose and trying to sheathe his swords with the other. “You’ll pay for this!”

  The innkeeper kicked the guy with the flail in the ass. “I said out!”

  The man with the flail moaned, holding on to the shaft sticking out of his arm.

  “Come on, Milton!” the guy with the daggers hissed to the blond, realizing that someone was on the verge of getting shot.

  They all left the inn, and not a moment after they were out the door, everyone was back into their seats chatting, drinking, or doing whatever it was they were doing before. I saw a few people turn their head back towards Donovan suspiciously, but no one said anything else. It was as if the incident hadn’t occurred.