The Ghost Tower: A LitRPG Adventure

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  After Flynn cleaned his feet, dabbed them with ointment, and replaced his socks, they returned to the journey. Terran said nothing more to his friend about his struggles. Clearly he was down about not having a class in the game, and only the basic skills that everyone had upon entry: bow, spear, and axe. It was strange that he hadn't found a class. It wasn't like they hadn't been adventuring while Terran had been building his settlement. He didn't think it was as simple as that. Weird things seemed to happen around his friend, but they were chaotic and unpredictable.

  It was late afternoon when they heard the gristlehound pack. Luna noticed them first, then twenty minutes later, Terran and Flynn could finally hear their howls. They'd just come alongside the Green River, which was about thirty feet across, and flowing swiftly, as the thunderstorms from the north swelled its banks.

  "They've got our scent," said Luna as she trotted along the riverside path. "There's no way we're going to outrun them, but there's an old bridge further north from here. We could use it as a place to stand and fight."

  "Great idea, Luna," said Terran. "How far?"

  The lynx craned her head to the side. "I don't know. It's been a while since I've been here."

  "Let's keep running. Pick up the pace. Maybe we'll find a slower spot in the water, and we can swim across," said Terran.

  "You know my policy on water," said Luna.

  "You know my policy on being eaten alive," said Terran.

  Terran was a little worried about Flynn on the run, but the danger following them was enough to keep his complaints to a minimum. Flynn occasionally pulled Skully off his hip and whispered to it, but otherwise was relatively quiet, a miracle for him.

  At every bend, Terran hoped they would see the old bridge, but the empty banks of the turbulent brown water brought frustration. His back was damp with sweat and his legs burned. Flynn had to be worse, but he kept his eyes focused on the path ahead. The greenery on the far side of the river disappeared, replaced with the grays and browns of the Dead Forest.

  Petrified trees, their foliage locked into an eternal stasis, made the region look frozen in time. No undergrowth existed, only spare trees, spaced out, and a gray dust that occasionally swirled across the stony ground.

  "The bridge can't be far now," said Luna as the howling increased in volume, sending shivers down Terran's spine.

  He kept expecting to see the pack slipping through the trees after them. They had to be close. He didn't think they were going to make it.

  He saw the first gristlehound to their left, not quite parallel, but catching up quickly. It was pacing them, making sure they didn't escape into the forest, as if it were expecting to trap them against the river. Terran worried that the gristlehounds had knowledge of the bridge, or lack of one. More hounds came into view behind them, forcing them to pick up an already grueling pace.

  "I'm not going to be able to fight unless we stop soon," said Flynn.

  Terran was about to agree when Luna made a noise of surprise. "The bridge!"

  Around the corner, at a distance of a few hundred yards, a wooden bridge stretched across the swift and deep river.

  The pack, sensing the potential escape of its prey, picked up its pace, letting loose bone-chilling howls.

  "Run! Gogogogo!"

  If his legs had burned before, now they were a forest fire. Branches whipped at his face and arms as Terran surged forward. When he sensed Flynn struggling, falling behind, Terran thought about hanging back and hitting the pack with a few vocal blasts, but then he caught sight of multiple shapes moving through the trees. The pack had to number at least thirty, which meant nothing short of an atomic bomb would provide their escape.

  "Only a little bit further," said Terran between breaths, pumping his legs for all they were worth.

  The gristlehounds were right on the trail, darting through the trees. Every time Terran turned his head, he saw more shapes joining the hunt.

  The last stretch before the bridge took forever, and Terran knew they were in trouble when he saw how wide the crossing was. The wooden bridge looked sturdy, and possibly about ten feet wide, enough for a wagon and two horses. There was no way they would be able to fight that many gristlehounds, and no way to destroy the bridge behind them. Even if they killed a dozen, two or three more would replace them, but they couldn't outrun them either.

  "Head to the far side, we'll make our last stand there," said Terran as Luna turned onto the bridge.

  He hoped that he could use Vocal Slam to knock the gristlehounds into the water, rather than try to kill them outright. It was the only thing he could think that might save them.

  Their boots pounded across the old wood, the howling gristlehounds on their heels. They reached the other side, and Terran turned, lifting his staff and sucking in a breath, ready to rain destruction down upon the pack.

  Chapter Twelve

  The pack numbered more than fifty. They crowded around the entrance to the bridge, howling and snapping at the air, but making no move to cross. A few of the ugly hounds surged forward onto the wood, only to back away as if their feet burned.

  "I see they are aware of my reputation," said Flynn, holding his spear up. "Go bother someone else, you overchewed bubble gum!"

  "Let's try not to provoke them," said Terran as he glanced behind them into the Dead Forest, surprised when he saw nothing but empty land. "But it's strange they're not pursuing us here."

  "Did I not warn you about the creepiness? Even these stupid gristlehounds know better than to come to the Dead Forest," Luna said, scowling.

  "Let's get moving before they change their minds," said Terran.

  Flynn put his hands on his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Can we take a little break first? I think I ran my first marathon, at a sprint."

  "How about we walk slowly away," said Terran.

  "Fair enough," said Flynn.

  They kept glancing back at the enormous pack of gristlehounds. But the creatures made no move to cross, not even howling, as if even they were disturbed by their entrance into the Dead Forest. Before long the bridge was no longer visible.

  While the Rock Leaf Forest was lush, and filled Terran's nose with the scents of greenery, the Dead Forest smelled like old dust. The trees, petrified down to their leaves, slowly shed dust, which settled around their feet, swirling occasionally in the breeze that seemed hesitant to blow in this arid region.

  He sent out his senses, hoping to catch a glimpse of another essence. He hadn't found any more since the peryton, but he knew there had to be more in the region, since the next level of the settlement required five. Maybe the length of time since the destruction of the Mother Tree meant the others were further abroad, which was a daunting thought.

  Flynn reached up to grab a leaf, only to have it snap off in his fingers, the crack echoing across the stony landscape.

  "Sorry," he said, wrinkling his face. "What happened here? It's like this place was turned to stone at the same time."

  "The elves tend to avoid conversations about this place, but what I can gather is that during the final battle for the Mother Tree, a crystal bard tried to use a black crystal to stop the enemy army, and while it partially worked, it also destroyed this part of the forest, turning it to stone in an instant. Further south, the effects were less," said Terran.

  Flynn whistled softly. "So you can do stuff like this? Now I'm super jealous."

  "Not exactly," said Terran. "First, you need a black crystal, which currently can't be grown by the Mother Tree, and we may never be able to grow them, and then you have to be able to use them. I don't even know if I had one that I would ever attempt it. The only stories I've heard about their use usually end in catastrophe."

  "Didn't you say that Grimchar had one?" asked Flynn.

  "Just a chip of one," said Terran. "Not sure where he got it. But I blew it up. Nearly killed me and Luna too."

  "Yet another example of you leading me into deadly and creepy situations," said Luna with her head held h
igh.

  He wasn't going to add that he had an affinity to the black crystal, which was rare, since his friend was already jealous of his abilities.

  The journey through the Dead Forest was like walking through a waking dream. The absence of echoes, as noises were absorbed by the ever-present gray dust, left Terran glancing over his shoulder constantly. He tried using his earthen sense a few times, but it only gave him a headache.

  "You know I'm never going to get this dust out of my fur," said Luna as she padded ahead.

  The lower half of her legs were matte gray. The same had happened to Terran and Flynn.

  "We're going to be covered head to toe by the time we reach our destination," said Flynn. "Only Skully will look normal. So what is our destination?"

  Terran didn't realize they were surrounded until shapes stepped out from behind the dead trees, holding atlatls with bone javelins, locked and ready to throw. They had pale, almost translucent skin, streaked with black paint in swirling designs, and wore little more than loincloths. At first glance, Terran would have though the zythri were a derivative of human, but their blank, soulless expressions and black eyes left him with the shivers and the knowledge that they were something else entirely.

  "We come in peace," said Flynn, laughing softly and sounding a little deranged. "But hopefully not in pieces. Take us to your leader, and all that, right, Skully?"

  When he patted the skull on his hip, the Shades' heads snapped towards the bone ornament, and the atlatls lowered, the javelins disappearing into quivers on their backs.

  "Hey, finally, someone who recognizes inherent greatness," said Flynn, shifting his mouth to the side.

  Terran stepped forward. "We've come to trade." He patted the pouch on his hip. "I'm interested in emeralds. Do you understand?"

  The Shades stared back blankly. Terran was about to repeat himself, when the Shade in front made a series of subtle gestures, hand and finger movements. The others responded in kind, until the first Shade grunted, a sickening grin stretching his lips.

  "We take you to the Final Tomb."

  The Shade that spoke had designs on his shoulders that reminded Terran of ravens in flight. Raven turned, leading them along a different trajectory. They fell in behind him, while the other Shades stayed to either side.

  "The Final Tomb," said Flynn in a whisper. "Like, I could hear the capital letters in that. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

  After a time, the dust between the trees disappeared. They walked across rocky ground. The change had Terran on high alert. He knew they neared their destination and that worried him. The worried expressions of his companions matched his gut feeling.

  A stone building appeared as if by magic. It was a simple angled roof held up by two dozen carved pillars. Terran expected to see other buildings past the first, but as they neared, he could see there was nothing beyond, just more dead trees, swept of dust.

  "This looks like a mausoleum," said Flynn, eyes wide as he tilted his head back and forth.

  "Impressive, I didn't think you'd know a word that big," said Terran, smirking.

  "I read a book once. Not as many pictures as I normally like, but it was good," said Flynn. "Is it too late to turn back now?"

  "Be a shame to come all this way for an emerald and not get one," said Terran.

  The building appeared to be an elevator of some kind, with cables and pulleys beneath the angled roof, but Terran couldn't keep his eyes from the carved pillars, which showed scenes of grisly death. None of the figures depicted in the stone were Shades—rather they were various races, some of which Terran recognized, like Rock Leaf Elf, Barghest, gnome, and human, and others which he'd never seen before.

  They stepped onto a platform. Raven stood with them, while the other Shades stayed at the top. Flynn looked like he was going to be sick, while Luna stayed right at Terran's side. He scratched her behind the ear for comfort.

  "I'm worried, Terran," said Luna in his mind.

  "Me too. Me too."

  The elevator moved slowly yet relentlessly, lending a measure of doom to their travel. The hole that they traveled through looked like it had once been a natural cave, but they'd knocked off the rough edges and carved it straight down.

  Terran was nervous about staying underground. While he didn't have any phobias about it, he'd never really been in a deep, deep cave and worried he'd be claustrophobic. This changed the moment the elevator entered the big space. One moment, they were rattling down an elevator shaft, the next, they floated through an enormous space, every piece of stone elaborately carved, lit with a strange ghostly light that flickered from glass globes.

  "Whoa," said Flynn, who moved to the end of the platform, peering over the edge. "Not what I expected."

  The "cave" went further than Terran could see, held up by massive stone pillars that reached from floor to ceiling. Buildings populated the floor of the place, clustered around passages like city streets. He'd been expecting a small population of Shades, maybe a few hundred, that lived savagely in primitive caves, but this was something else entirely. There had to be thousands living in the place.

  "I don't like the look of that," said Flynn, gesturing behind Terran.

  A ziggurat, which had to be at least one hundred feet tall, but still didn't even come a third of the way to the ceiling, had fiery braziers at the top and an altar stained black.

  "Maybe it's not what it looks like," said Terran, even though he didn't believe it himself.

  The platform landed softly at the bottom. Raven strode off, leaving them to follow. Terran could barely watch where he was walking, as he was too busy examining everything for clues to their fate. The other Shades in the place stared at them dispassionately. He couldn't tell if it was curiosity, that they didn't see visitors often, or if they were wondering how much blood would spill when they were sacrificed.

  "I could have stayed at the settlement, but noooo, I had to agree to get dragged all the way out here," muttered Flynn.

  Raven led them through the streets. As they passed the other Shades, Terran began to get a sense of the designs on their pale skin. The shoulders were all unique. He guessed it was an individual marker. Raven had more designs than anyone else he'd seen, though some wore gossamer clothing, which made examining them more difficult. Shade children only had shoulder marks, with a few other minor designs.

  "We're going to trade for emeralds, right?" asked Terran as he hurried next to Raven.

  The inscrutable zythri turned his head momentarily before continuing to lead them through the city.

  Eventually they came to a carved wall. A horrific scene of violence was displayed above a simple set of doors. It looked like a battle between the Shades and a group of mostly humans, who were dealing death with powerful magics. They were clearly an adventuring group, Offworlders like him and Flynn by the looks of them.

  Terran swallowed and followed Raven into the building, which was no different than the outside, the stone carved with intricate scenes. This time, it showed a group of Shades with cloaked forms fighting against a shadowy dragon. The resemblance to the form that Chanterelle had taken in the battle at the keep was not lost on Terran, but he was swept into a second room, where a Shade in gossamer robes—a zythri of high station, given the number of markings, which exceeded Raven's—looked up from a tome. He made gestures to Raven, the silent speech they'd witnessed above, before addressing them.

  "I am Pools of Blood," said the high priest. The markings on his shoulders were round circles. "Raven of the Fifth Doom tells me you come for emeralds."

  Terran patted his bulging pouch. "I bring coin to purchase an emerald."

  Pools of Blood sniffed the air. "You are Offworlders." He narrowed his gaze. "But you are also a Rock Leaf Elf."

  "I am," said Terran, hesitating. He wasn't sure if he should reveal his position, in case they wanted to use that against him, but decided that he was already at their mercy. Petram had given no indication that he should fear for his life here, but he
'd also said that it'd been a long time since they'd traded with the zythri. Much could have changed. "I am the leader of Gneiss Glen. We have restored the Mother Tree and hope to bring peace to the region."

  "Peace never follows the Offworlders. You bring war and destruction," said Pools of Blood. "It is my misfortune to have been born during your return."

  Terran shared a glance with Flynn. They were both thinking about their conversation, about the age of the world. This was proof again that the world was not fresh as promised, but had been used before and was beset with old grievances.

  "I'm sorry for whatever has happened before. I offer my friendship on behalf of the Rock Leaf Elves. I would like to trade for emeralds, but am also open to other relationships," said Terran.

  Pools of Blood stared back with black eyes and Terran kept expecting him to pull out a knife and lick the razor-sharp edge. Eventually his arm extended, his forefinger pointing at the skull on Flynn's hip, which produced wide-eyed terror in his friend's eyes.

  "We will trade you an emerald for that skull," said Pools of Blood.

  Both Terran and Luna turned towards Flynn, who looked like he'd been caught stealing. This was a laughably cheap price for what they'd come all this way to acquire. Terran couldn't believe his good fortune, but his warm bubbling feeling dissipated quickly as he saw Flynn's lips flatten.

  "No," said Flynn. "I won't trade Skully. Not now, not ever."

  Chapter Thirteen

  A low growl formed in Luna's throat, while Terran wanted to smack his own forehead. It could have been, should have been, easy. The priest made no indication about Flynn's response. Pools of Blood stared at his friend, while Terran wanted to shake some sense into him. For a moment, he considered using Silky Suggestion to get the high priest to change his mind or to get Flynn to give up the hip ornament, but he knew that it wouldn't work for long and would only make things worse.