Copyright © 2018 Boycott Books
Copyright © 2018 Harmon Cooper
Book One and Two edited by Allison Wright (www.wrightediting.com)
Book Three and “Chance Encounters” edited by Andi Marlowe (www.andromedaediting.com)
Audiobook narrated by Jeff Hays and Annie Ellicott
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All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Map of Unigaea
BOOK ONE: The Last Warrior of Unigaea
Chapter One: Cliffhanger
Chapter Two: Loot and Scoot
Chapter Three: Dwarven Porn
Chapter Four: The Ferry to Tin Ingot
Chapter Five: A Day in the Life of a Mercenary
Chapter Six: Rare Class
Chapter Seven: Arrow in the Back
Chapter Eight: On the Run
Chapter Nine: Armor up and Bail Out
Chapter Ten: Wolf’s Swimming Lesson
Chapter Eleven: Tangka on the Brink
Chapter Twelve: The Light in the Eye of an Old Friend
Chapter Thirteen: Fetch
Chapter Fourteen: The Vulture Within
Chapter Fifteen: Revenge on Hold
Chapter Sixteen: Scar Cheek and Walrus Man
Chapter Seventeen: The Bandit’s Hut
Chapter Eighteen: Vampiric Mermaids and Where to Find Them
Chapter Nineteen: Revenge is a Hungry Ghost
Chapter Twenty: A Much-Needed Bath
Chapter Twenty-one: Quiet Pirate Passage
Chapter Twenty-two: Sam Raid
Chapter Twenty-three: Grilled and Revealed
Chapter Twenty-four: Source Code Bomb
Chapter Twenty-five: En Garde
Chapter Twenty-six: Two Birds, One Sword
Epilogue: First we Feast
Short Story: Chance Encounters
Part One: A Mage, a Vampiric Mermaid, a Giant Wolf
Part Two: Former Home Aflame
BOOK TWO: The Drachma Killers
Chapter One: A Biting Storm
Chapter Two: The Obelisk of Unigaea
Chapter Three: Vampiric Mer-Dog
Chapter Four: Crimson Moon
Chapter Five: Follow the Rhino
Chapter Six: Take a Peek
Chapter Seven: Digital Psyops
Chapter Eight: IED
Chapter Nine: Know Thy Customer
Chapter Ten: Pyro Affliction
Chapter Eleven: A Giant Surprise
Chapter Twelve: Electric Shield
Chapter Thirteen: Wake Up
Chapter Fourteen: The Hourglass Mage
Chapter Fifteen: Lady Blacknor’s Outside Court
Chapter Sixteen: Bloody Coronation
Chapter Seventeen: The Snow Must Go On
Chapter Eighteen: Deathdale Moves in for the Kill
Chapter Nineteen: Canal Views
Chapter Twenty: Afternoon Swim
Chapter Twenty-One: The Fate of Icarus
BOOK THREE: The Red Plague
Chapter One: Existence Check
Chapter Two: The Masking Hat
Chapter Three: Meta Babies and the Gamification of the 21st Century
Chapter Four: Insta-level
Chapter Five: Jagraj the Giant Slayer
Chapter Six: Gorgefest
Chapter Seven: The First Artifact
Chapter Eight: Warp Rider
Chapter Nine: Tea-scapades
Chapter Ten: Skeletal Wolves and the Necromancer that Loves Them
Chapter Eleven: A New Page in the Book of Time
Chapter Twelve: An Orc Pisses Himself and Thus Begins a Preemptive Strike
Chapter Thirteen: Breaking Broken
Chapter Fourteen: Lost in the Periphery
Chapter Fifteen: My Digital Raison D'être
Chapter Sixteen: Tagvornin Erectile Dysfunction and Taelian Socialism
Chapter Seventeen: Mistaken Identity
Chapter Eighteen: Shattering the Game-time Continuum
Chapter Nineteen: Predestined Randomness
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Map of Unigaea
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BOOK ONE: The Last Warrior of Unigaea
A sword should not splinter.
It should not shatter, split, or break apart.
It should always be at your side or across your back, ready at a moment’s notice to save you from the inevitable.
– Brunas the weaponsmith
Chapter One: Cliffhanger
A small pebble bounces down into the valley.
I look up at the ledge to see my muscles bulge, my vein pulsing with blood. Digital life force. There’s a slight chill in the air but my body is warm from exertion. I’ve been hanging on the side of this cliff for twenty minutes now, waiting for my prey to walk along the mountain pass.
The things you can do in an online world …
My vision pane flashes and a couple pebbles skip past me.
I originally came to the Farthing Mountains to look for sunset roots so I could craft a few potions. I found one, but then I saw the orcs coming and figured at least one had to be a Player Character. If I’m lucky, two.
My grip loosens and I dig my fingers in tighter.
Don’t look down, I remind myself.
I still need to assign the attribute points from my last level-up – three points to be exact – and as I hang, I use the interface to transfer all three points into STRENGTH. My muscles expand and my chest plate made of Solidus steel tightens.
I feel myself get a little heavier, stronger, and more aggressive.
My character sheet appears:
Oric Rune
Class: Level 8 Player Killer
Subclass: Level 3 Herbalist
INFAMY: 38 Players killed
HP: 869/869
HP recovery rate: 2% per minute
ATK: 133 +51
DEF: 114 +30
Attributes
STRENGTH: 10
WILL: 4
DEXTERITY: 7
MIND: 4
SPEED: 5
I hear voices and mentally swipe away the interface. There will be time to pat myself on the back later.
(^_^)
Here they come.
The three orcs chortle as they make their way around the bend. They’re merchants, hopefully Player Characters, and if I’m ever going to get some loot and attribute points the old-fashioned way, it’ll be by killing these three.
I tighten my grip on the ledge, pull my knees up, and press the balls of my feet into the rock face. The red outlines of their bodies appear on my vision pane even though I can’t officially see them yet.
If I time it just right …
Almost there …
Now!
I latch onto the cliff’s edge and do something I would never be able to do in real life – bounce my feet off the rock face and use all my power to backflip up to the mountainside pass.
“Hey!”
I grab the first orc by the front of his chest plate and toss the slack-jawed bastard off the escarpment.
Instakill!
+1 Infamy!
A Player Character. Yes!
My sword comes out, as do the swords of the two other orc merchant
s. Their levels and anonymous handles appear next to their names.
Two level sevens? Damn.
“You’re going to pay for that!” the first orc seethes. A green icon over his head flashes.
An NPC.
The other has a blue icon.
Another Player Character, hell yes.
“Some good that shitty sword will do!” he screams.
I grin at him. If you only knew …
All avatars start in Unigaea with a legendary weapon that needs upgrading. This “diamond in the rough” approach gives new players something to immediately see to. Either sell the weapon for instant funds, or get it repaired and reforged. Hell, some even learn to reforge it themselves.
I’ve done neither.
I turn my sword over in my hand, waiting for one of the orcs to come forward. My legendary weapon was once a full-fledged buster sword, but the blade has since splintered into three distinct peaks. It’s still large – about as long as a skateboard – and sharp as hell too, but the blade’s odd form has taken many an enemy off guard.
Much to my advantage.
“You’re dead!” The NPC orc charges me and brings his smaller sword up to meet mine.
Our weapons clink together and I quickly overpower him, using my leg to sweep his feet out from beneath him. The other orc merchant attacks as his counterpart rolls away, spraying dust into the air on his approach.
“I’ll kill you!” the Player Character shouts. He’s much better with his sword than the NPC; still, I manage to get in a brushing swipe that connects with his shoulder.
-145 HP!
Thick ichor spritzes from his wound. He screams like a sissy and disappears in a flash.
I stupidly turn to figure out where he went and my vision pane flashes.
A rogue orc?
While my armor protects me from the NPC orc’s stab, I do receive some blunt damage. The other orc comes in for another swing; his blade lands perfectly in one of the valleys of my splintered sword.
This was why I hadn’t had my buster sword reforged.
The NPC orc growls, presses his weight forward, seethes, and tries to free his sword from the groove in my blade. I twist my wrist and grin at my unsightly assailant. He pushes his weight forward again, and I reward his efforts with a boot to the chest that sends him straight to the ground.
I come down hard with my three-pronged, splintered sword, tearing through his cheap leather armor and piercing his lung. I twist the blade, he cries out in pain, and I yank it out, arcing the air with blood.
-286 HP! Instakill!
I take a step back to catch my breath.
Wham!
The next sound I hear is my body hitting the ground.
(^_^)
My head stops spinning moments later and I find the rogue orc standing over me with his sword at my throat.
His face is covered in blotches, his teeth misshapen, pointy, and yellow. The other trait that defines him – aside from his poorly armored man tits – is his festering stink, one part sulfuric urine and two parts Limburger cheese.
I don’t know why a Player Character would want to play as a rancid orc, and I really don’t care.
Spit flies at my face as he shouts, “I wanted you to watch me kill you. This is what thieves get! This is what Player Killers deserve!”
I keep my eyes trained on him as I slowly pat my hand against the soil, desperate for the hilt of my weapon.
The orc kicks my Splintered Sword away. “Your broken-ass sword won’t do you any good now!”
He presses the tip of his blade into my Adam’s apple and snarls.
“Do it then,” I grit. “End this.”
“If you die, you have to start over completely. Level one,” he reminds me with a sneer. “You’ll lose your busted-ass sword too.”
This is the one thing that makes Unigaea one of the most addicting and most frustrating Proxima worlds in recent memory. It doesn’t matter what you do, nor what level you're at – if you die in Unigaea, your narrative ends. No respawning, no save points, no being brought back from death.
You start over with a level-one avatar, if you decide to start over at all.
A strand of my long brown hair falls in my face and I blow it out of my pane of vision. I smile at the filthy orc. “Do it.”
He’s just about to pull his arm back when an enormous black wolf tackles him, going straight for his jugular. The wolf whips his head left and right, sinking his teeth deeper into the orc’s neck.
-79 HP! -56 HP!
The huge wolf stops just before snapping the orc’s neck. The majestic beast, a deep shade of shadow and large enough for a human to ride, turns to me.
He bares his teeth and his ears flit back. Behind him, the orc chokes on his own blood.
“Easy,” I start to tell the beast.
The big wolf approaches me slowly, locks his big, blue-green eyes onto me and …
I reach my hand out to him. The wolf relaxes immediately and starts panting.
“Thanks for letting me finish the job, Wolf,” I say as I push myself up and run my hand behind his ear, scratching his favorite spot. He thumps his leg, sighs, and makes the cute whimpering sound he always makes when he’s happy.
Once I’m on my feet, I move over to the rogue orc and squat in front of him.
His eyes quiver as he takes in my form. His neck has been torn to shreds and the front of his armor is covered in blood, with a couple of bloody dog footprints. He coughs as thick crimson ichor boils from his lips.
I drive my Splintered Sword into his neck and twist.
Instakill!
+1 Infamy!
Bonus attribute point received!
I stand and wipe my bloodied blade onto his pant leg, suddenly disgusted at myself.
Wolf sits on his haunches and begins licking his paws. I walk over to the ledge for a moment and stare out at the magnolia pines below. I have to remind myself why it is I’ve chosen to do this, to go against everything I ever thought to be true and become a Player Killer.
I’m not yet strong enough yet, but I will be soon enough, I think, as a vulture lifts into the sky, screeching to signal to its brethren that dinner is ready.
My mantra for the last month still doesn’t change what I am, or what I must do to become who I’m supposed to be.
After another moment to collect my thoughts, I turn back to the two dead orcs, steeling myself for the troubling, uncertain journey that lies ahead.
Chapter Two: Loot and Scoot
My stats come up and I put my new attribute point in WILL.
Oric Rune
Class: Level 8 Player Killer
Subclass: Level 3 Herbalist
INFAMY: 40 Players killed
HP: 809/869
HP recovery rate: 2% per minute
ATK: 133 +51
DEF: 114 +30
Attributes
STRENGTH: 10
WILL: 5
DEXTERITY: 7
MIND: 4
SPEED: 5
I have played many classes and subclasses in the online world of Unigaea. I’ve been everything from a warrior to a high elf to an alchemist and a scholar at the Solidus Academy. I have never played as a Player Killer, never desired to become one, and even at level 8, I’m still getting used to the benefits and disadvantages of the class.
The benefits – for every five players I kill, I get a bonus attribute point I can assign to my liking. Thus far, I’ve killed 40 Player Characters, giving me eight additional bonus attribute points. Player Killers also heal rather quickly. My current recovery rate is 2% per minute, and I know this will increase as I level up.
But those are about the only perks.
No one trusts Player Killers. I’m constantly overcharged for services and townspeople are immediately suspicious of me, even though I know better than to attack a town (nor would I ever stoop that low). Because no one trusts me, I’m dirtier than I’d like – I end up sleeping in pastures much more than I end up slee
ping in inns – and I find myself trapped in my own headspace much more often than not.
I’ve been ambushed, spit on, shot at, cursed, pissed on, screamed at – you name it. Most people I encounter immediately hate me.
Still, it is the price I must pay if I hope to ever have any advantage against the guild of Player Killers who destroyed the village I founded, which I built from the ground up with my last avatar.
The Drachma Killers.
I swallow my anger as I move to check the two dead orcs for loot. Images of the Drachma Killers riding through Ducat and maiming anyone in their path come to me and I blink them away.
That was then; this is now.
The first guy, the NPC, has a small sack of lira on him and an anklet.
[Trinket Anklet -1 DEX]
-1 DEX? Nope. I hurl the anklet over the side of the cliff and check his armor – nothing worth taking off his dead body. His pants are just a bit too large, but he has definitely soiled them since dying and I’d rather not deal with a seamstress and a dry cleaner if I can help it.
Wolf Ruffian sniffs at the ground, pauses, and sniffs again.
He is a beautiful Tagvornin wolf, damn near the size of a pony. He snaps his teeth at a passing fly, tracks it with his big, blue-green eyes. It’s not easy to find companionship as a Player Killer, but I’ve found him, which just goes to show you that dogs will befriend anyone who is nice to them and feeds them.
A solid blue sky frames Wolf and there’s a single gray cloud above his head. The Strait of Karuna in the distance is a sight to behold. The afternoon sun briefly reminds me of a sunset from the shores of Lake Michigan.
My past.
I swallow those memories too.
“I know,” I tell Wolf, “just give me a minute and I’ll take care of you.”
I move to the other orc’s lifeless body. I could try and get down the cliffside to find the orc I tossed over, but that might take an hour and we’re running out of time. Whatever loot he possesses is his. Well, his and the vultures’.
I crouch in front of the rogue orc. Nothing in his pockets, nothing in his boots.
Gloves.
I take the guy’s Taelian leather gloves off, toss them over my shoulder, and find a ring on his fat pointer finger. It takes some leverage, and I eventually have to step my foot onto his chest and pull upwards, but I finally get the ring off and I’m rewarded for my efforts.
The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Page 1
