The Ghost Tower: A LitRPG Adventure

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "If I had a silver piece for every time you ended an incredible story with 'I swear,' I'd be very rich indeed," said Terran, grinning. "As I have been witness to many of these events, I will accept your version of the story, though I would prefer if you let them finish the important job."

  Flynn threw his shoulders up in a "what can you do" manner, leaving Terran to investigate the area the logs hit, knocking the base from the soil. A hunk of the hill had come away. The hole revealed a cavity beneath, which was why the gate had toppled easily. Terran sent his earthen sense out, like a form of echolocation, to see that there was a small sinkhole beneath the entrance.

  [You have increased the skill Earth Sense]

  Skill: Earth Sense 6 (END)

  Impressive. You can now find holes in the ground. The gods tremble at this display of power. What's next? Spotting mountains on a cloudless day?

  Terran scratched his head as Flynn and the Rock Leaf Elves leaned over his shoulder, peering into the hole.

  "I'd send you in there to take a look, but you don't have the brains for the operation," said Flynn, holding his skull over the hole and flashing a grin at the elf women, bringing another round of laughter.

  Terran scratched his head as he shook it. "You know, Flynn, you did us quite a favor by destroying the gate. It looks like there's a sinkhole beneath it. If it ever got attacked again, it would have come right down. Not only that, but I think it provides us with an opportunity. We can turn this gate into a trapdoor. We'll have to clean out the sinkhole, reinforce the ceiling above it, but it could be a great line of defense for us."

  The Rock Leaf Elf foreman in charge of the job cleared her throat. She had auburn hair wrapped into two strands that wound around her brow like a crown. "I'm not sure we have the materials to create such a trap, as devious as it is."

  "What do you need? Azalea, right?" asked Terran.

  Azalea cleared her throat and glanced speculatively at Flynn as if she were embarrassed to admit a problem before him.

  "We lack materials hard enough to reinforce the pit, create the mechanisms—any of it really," said Azalea.

  "You need steel," said Terran, sighing with frustration. "Vievel still hasn't come through for us."

  Azalea wrinkled her button nose. "I'm afraid steel is not what we need. I'm sorry, Terran the Tenacious, but we are Rock Leaf Elves. While certain weapons can be made effective with steel, it's not the primary tool we use."

  "I don't understand. Lhoris requested the steel," said Terran.

  "The years away from the Mother Tree forced us to become flexible. Some elves learned the art of blacksmithing when gneissium was no longer available." Azalea cleared her throat and glanced away. "I'm sorry, Lord Terran. I'm sure this is all knowledge to you already."

  Flynn mouthed "Lord" Terran, adding a head bobble in case he couldn't understand he was being mocked, but Terran ignored him.

  "Please, just Terran is fine, and no, I'm glad you've told me. What is gneissium? As in Gneiss Glen?" he asked.

  "Yes, exactly. Nurtured correctly, the tree bark can be mixed with sap and other things, I'm not sure really, to create gneissium. You see, gneiss is a type of rock, granite and other hard materials. Gneiss is like that. Once it's been cured and baked, it can be more useful than steel because it can be made ridged or flexible, as necessary. We call it whisperweave because it's light as a whisper and strong as steel," said Azalea.

  "And they call me Flynnweave because I'm heavy as a rock, with a very big—"

  "Flynn!"

  "Huh?" asked Flynn, wrinkling his forehead. "Was I speaking out loud?"

  When Terran glanced back to Azalea, her mouth had parted slightly as she stared at Flynn. The hunger in her eyes was palpable. He cleared his throat.

  "So why aren't we making whisperweave now? We have bark, we have sap. What else is missing?" asked Terran.

  Azalea blinked as if she hadn't realized she'd been staring at Flynn as he was fixing his hair. "Oh, uhm, we need an arborist. It's not as easy as making leaf armor, if that's what you're thinking."

  "Another reason I need to find an arborist," said Terran. "Which means getting that emerald is a priority. Flynn. You're coming with me on a trip. We need an emerald, and maybe it's a chance to find you a class."

  You have been offered a quest: Find Flynn a class

  Reward: The power of friendship! Oh, and I don't know, a class for your friend.

  His friend frowned and rolled his eyes, wandering away as he mumbled to Skully. Terran sighed. He'd figure out what was wrong later.

  "Lord, uhm, I mean, Terran," said Azalea. "What about the gate?"

  He cupped his chin in his hand. "Dig out the sinkhole. We need to know how big it is. But in the meantime, move the gate over to a more suitable spot. We can put it back later, but visitors need a good consistent way to enter the settlement."

  Azalea and the other elves got to work. Terran hooked his arm around Flynn.

  "What's wrong? You didn't look excited about the idea of an adventure," said Terran.

  "What good am I? My sword work is crap, I don't have any cool items like you do, not even that leaf armor, and I'm classless. Face it, Terran, I'd just weigh you down," said Flynn.

  "Well, it is true that you are classless, but I didn't think you'd be the one to admit it," said Terran with a grin, hoping that would cheer his friend up. "But if you need armor, we can have Ara make you some. Let me bring you by her tree. She can get you measured, and the armor can be ready by the time you get back from helping me."

  Flynn snorted softly. "Fine."

  It was late in the day by the time they left the settlement, along with Luna.

  "So what are we doing, Your Grace?" asked Flynn with a mock bow.

  "Headed to the Dead Forest to purchase an emerald from the zythri," said Terran, patting a bulging pouch on his hip. "Hopefully I brought enough coin to secure a deal."

  The lynx lifted her head at mention of their destination. Her ears flattened and her tail dipped lower to the ground.

  "Zythri?" asked Luna with a shudder. "You said we're going on an adventure, not a visit to the land of creepy-ville."

  "You don't like the zythri?" asked Terran.

  "Most call them Shades," said Luna, shoulders hunched. "I have no bone to pick with them, but I prefer to avoid them. Not that it's difficult since the Dead Forest is hard to hunt in given the lack of growing things."

  "You still haven't explained why they're creepy," said Terran.

  The tufts of gray fur above her eyes wagged. "Near translucent skin, personalities that are a cross between a praying mantis and a rusty knife, and living in big holes in the ground beneath a petrified forest? I don't know what gave me that idea."

  Luna pushed forward while shaking her head, leaving Terran alone with his friend. He could sense Flynn had deep thoughts by his occasional sighs, headshakes, and other signs of a restless mind. But he didn't want to probe, because Flynn would deflect his questions with ridiculous comments.

  Eventually his patience was rewarded when Flynn made a face at the cloudy sky. "Do you ever regret joining? We could have stayed awake as a member of the crew."

  "Not for one second," said Terran, using his crystalline staff to knock away a web from the path. "Being awake on a ship that won't reach its destination until long after you're dead, keeping the equipment running, monitoring the pods. Why would I want to do that when I could be here on an endless adventure with my friends?"

  Terran raised his hands to the sky, nearly shoving his hand into a tree branch, while Flynn marched ahead, staring at the ground as if it held dark secrets. When his friend made a noise in the back of his throat, Terran knew what was wrong.

  "You only came because I asked, didn't you?"

  Flynn shifted his mouth to the side, his normal jovial exterior suddenly sullen. "Would it make me an asshole if I said yes?"

  "You're an asshole on principle, but I'd prefer an honest asshole as a friend," said Terran.

  F
lynn ran his hand through his hair. "I was torn between the two, honestly. But I've been having regrets since coming here, wondering if I made the right choice. But now there's no way to go back. We're just bodies in a bay, sleeping through the stars." Flynn looked up and reacted to Terran's expression. "If I've got to be stuck somewhere, at least it's with my friends, so there's that."

  "You would have missed us," said Terran.

  "Without a doubt."

  Terran clasped his friend's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Back there you'd be doing pipe maintenance, or some other mundane task, but here you get to kill monsters and fight armies for a kingdom... and speaking of armies, Zara told me about the ones that attacked the newbie area, but you were quiet about the whole thing. What do you think?"

  Flynn wrapped his arms around his chest and squeezed as if he were giving himself a hug. "We later learned they were called the Howling Wind. Don't know much about them, since they wore elaborate bone armor and masks with beaks, like strange birds. If this were some sort of event, there should have been bodies, or people respawning after getting killed. But nothing. It makes me think that this isn't a fresh world like they said."

  "I'm with you there. When I met Grimchar, he said things that made me think the same thing. Either that, or they've done a great job of giving this world an elaborate backstory, but I don't think that's the case. It feels too chaotic. The weird thing is that Grimchar called me an Offworlder, and said that my kind had returned, which fits in with what you were saying, that this is a recycled world. He did something to me that made me think he could kill me permanently, like he was sucking away my very life essence."

  Flynn spoke in a low tone as he stuttered to a stop. "I don't think we're alone."

  Terran nodded in agreement, mind busy with thoughts of the necrochanter. "I agree. It's an old server, which means we're not alone in this world."

  Flynn grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "No." He gestured at a clearing to their left. "We're not alone."

  Six ugly creatures that were built like hounds, but looked like they were made of ligaments and cartilage, were standing there, watching them.

  Chapter Eleven

  The ghoulish howl that rose from the lead hound put water in Terran's knees. The creature sounded like it was hunting and dying at the same time. The pack advanced slowly as if they knew there was no way to outrun them.

  Gristlehound - level 14

  They look worse than you're going to feel when they bite you

  Terran lifted his staff, sucked in a big breath, and was preparing to scatter them with a Vocal Slam when he heard branches break. Luna trotted up at the same time, and they both glanced behind them, to see Flynn running the other way. A pair of gristlehounds broke off from the pack. Terran shook his head.

  "Let's go with him. I don't want him to get chewed up alone," he said.

  They caught up to Flynn, who moved slower in the forest. Seeing his friend's ungainly headlong escape reminded Terran of when he first came to the forest.

  "Flynn. Stop. We have to fight them."

  Flynn stumbled to a wide-eyed pause as the hounds' baying followed. He blew out a huffy breath like a petulant five-year-old, unhooking the bow from his back and sliding an arrow into the notch.

  "I was afraid you were going to stay that," said Flynn as he pulled the string back, aiming his bow.

  As Terran reoriented himself for the incoming gristlehounds, he realized they stood in a small copse of trees that gave them flanking protection. The aura of annoyance that permeated Flynn's space suggested his brief flight to a better defensive spot was purely accidental, or at least it appeared that way.

  Before the pack could close the distance, Terran hit them with a well-placed Vocal Slam. The lead hound yelped, and a wave of damage notifications rose from their backs, but they kept coming.

  [You have increased your skill Battle Song]

  Battle Song (CHA) 11 - skill

  Somehow you're more on pitch, but sound worse...

  Flynn loosed his arrow, remarking as he pulled out a second, "You should have brought Zara. They're going to chew us up like dog toys. Unless Luna's going to tank for us."

  "I will be doing no tanking, whatever that is," said Luna, and she crouched with a growl.

  Before the hounds reached them, Terran lifted his arms, fingers curled as if he were raising the dead. The earth rumbled as a stone wall rose, forcing the lead gristlehound to leap over, while the one right behind hit nose first with a muffled yelp that sounded like a squeak toy being stepped on.

  The others scattered, but Terran didn't have time to watch for the rest of the pack, as the first gristlehound landed in their midst, biting and clawing without regard to its own safety. At close range, the creature was a horror show of knotty muscle and skinless lumps, as if someone had taken all the leftover pieces of a steak and molded it into a hound with deadly teeth and claws.

  Flynn threw down his bow, grabbed his short spear, and jabbed forward, nearly catching Luna in the back, forcing her to leap to the right at the same time the gristlehound bit down on empty air.

  The rest of the gristlehounds circled around, but as they tried to lunge through the thick brush, their knotty, strange bodies caught on the long thorns. At point-blank range, Terran hit the gristlehound with a Vocal Slam, dealing significant damage, stunning the creature. Flynn lunged with his spear, shoving it right down the disgusting throat of the creature, impaling and killing it.

  "Ha! I got it!" said Flynn, raising his spear in victory. "I told you, Skully, that we're a force to be reckoned with."

  "Reckon that force towards the rest of the gristlehounds," said Terran as he fired Vocal Slams at the other gristlehounds, but little damage got through the undergrowth, and none of them wanted to come through the gap at the front of the copse.

  "We're at a stalemate," said Flynn, jabbing forward when a hound got too close. "Isn't that a win for us?"

  Luna growled, nodding towards the dimming sky. "Not unless you can stab and sleep at the same time. When it gets dark, they'll use their numbers against us. I've seen a pack of gristlehounds wait out a bear cub that had climbed into a tree, until it finally got hungry and tried to make a run for it."

  "Climbing a tree? What a great idea," said Flynn as he shoved his spear into his back holster and started pulling himself upward.

  "Flynn! Get down here, we need your spear," said Terran.

  Flynn nimbly moved to the next branch, right as a sickening snap filled the air. He fell from the tree, landing right on the back of a gristlehound, his spear miraculously going right through the back of the hound. Terran leapt forward and pulled his friend to safety as Luna ripped out the throat of the injured gristlehound.

  "The odds are even now—let's go on the offensive," said Terran, stepping between the trees as his friend and companion flanked him.

  The fearless gristlehounds were drawn to their advance. Terran blasted the first in the face with a stone shard pine cone, which distracted it enough for a spear and claw to finish it off. The remaining two gristlehounds, upon seeing the fourth of their pack fall, fled through the forest with tails low to the ground.

  Flynn nudged the dead gristlehound with the toe of his boot. "These look like someone replaced all the muscle in a hound with tendons and ligaments."

  "I don't care what they are, as long as they're dead," said Terran. "Any chance there are more of these, Luna?"

  The lynx had leapt upon a fallen tree and was looking through the forest. "Sometimes larger packs break up. The other two could be heading to find the others. Nothing's for certain, but we should probably pick up the pace."

  Flynn scrunched up his face. "But I have these awful blisters."

  Terran held out his hands. "Eaten by gristlehounds or tiny tears on your feet. You decide, but I'm moving out."

  Flynn fell in behind him, but there were a lot of sighs and grumbling. Despite the reluctance of his friend, they made good time heading northeast along the old t
rail, but as darkness fell, Flynn kept tripping over roots and jagged rocks. The setting sun left him at a disadvantage, so they found a camp for the night.

  Because the gristlehounds were nocturnal hunters, one of them kept watch. Terran took the middle shift, huddled against a tree, listening to the forest noises. Rustling leaves nearby occasionally put him on high alert, but there was nothing overtly dangerous. He did hear the hunting of owls, ghostly hoots and the pitiful cry of a mouse as its life was snuffed out.

  In the hesitant light of morning as they munched on trail jerky, Flynn tugged on his boots with a grimace.

  "Let me see your feet," said Terran.

  Reluctantly, Flynn removed his boots, revealing dirty socks. Bits of old grass and dirt tipped out of the footwear.

  "Dude, you've got to switch socks, keep your feet clean," said Terran. He handed over his water pouch. "Clean them off with this. I'll refill later. But this is what's causing your blisters. Once they're clean you can put this ointment on them. It's a special mixture from Petram."

  "Thanks, Terran," said Flynn with an embarrassed scowl as he poured the water on his feet and used a rag to wash them off. "Sorry I'm such a mess at this. No class. Can't fight for shit. I'm not much of an outdoor person."

  "You're better than you think," said Terran. "You found us a better defensive position against the gristlehounds, killed a couple of them with your spear."

  Flynn made a face. "None of that would have mattered if you didn't have your fancy staff and bard magic, or Luna with her teeth and claws. Face it, Terran. If I were in a city, I think I wouldn't be too bad. But out here in the wilderness, I'm weighing you down."