The Lost City_An Epic LitRPG Adventure

by C. M. Carney

  Gryph gave him a two-fingered gesture that the gnome could not possibly understand, but whose meaning was obvious.

  “Well that seems unfriendly,” Wick said.

  “Shush, grown up at work over here,” Gryph retorted.

  “You sure look the part,” Wick said, dripping sarcasm and earning another glare from Gryph.

  “Children don’t make me come over there and spank you,” Tifala said.

  “Promises, promises,” Wick said with a wink.

  “Behave,” Tifala said.

  “You’re no fun,” Wick mumbled under his breath, but he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  Despite the ribbing, Gryph smiled. Wick snuck a peek at Gryph and grinned. Ovyrm seemed oblivious to the whole exchange as he sat cross-legged in meditation, but Gryph knew that the warrior monk had heard every word.

  It had been a long time since he’d been able to call someone a friend. The fact that he now genuinely considered all three of his odd companions true friends both warmed his heart and made him wonder just how much weirder his life would become. Gryph returned to his prompts with a chuckle.

  You have reached Apprentice Tier in Soul Magic.

  With this Tier Boost, the skill has gained a new ability.

  You can now use the Tier Ability Soul Bind.

  Soul Bind allows you to engage in a battle of wills with a creature or beast. If you win, then you can bind that creature or beast to your will, effectively making it your pet or servant. The creature will fight alongside you and take basic directions. The complexity of those directions is limited by the creature’s inherent level of intelligence.

  Control Limit: 1

  Note: You can release control of any Soul Bound creature at any time, but beware, they may turn hostile.

  Note: Each successive tier of Soul Magic enables you to Soul Bind an additional creature to your will.

  Note: The binding of a sentient creature is considered a corrupt use of Soul Magic and may push you down a dark path.

  Gryph’s eyes went wide at the possibility. He’d fought some insane creatures in his time, and the idea that he might turn one from enemy to ally was perhaps the best news he’d received since leaving the Barrow. It almost made him forget about his hair, almost.

  A deep yawn overtook him, and Gryph realized just how exhausted he was. He looked over to see that Wick and Tifala had lain down, cuddling each other. Ovyrm was still meditating. Guess I should get some sleep as well. He laid down, used his arm as a pillow and closed his eyes. A prompt filled his vision.

  Due to the El’Edryn Racial Trait: Soul Reverie, you cannot sleep.

  The elvish races do not sleep like the shorter-lived races. Instead, when in need of rest, they will enter a trance like state where they will experience snippets of past lives lived by their immortal souls.

  Elves must enter Soul Reverie at least once a week or have all Stats and Attributes negatively affected due to exhaustion.

  Do You Wish to Enter Soul Reverie? YES?/NO?

  What the hell? Soul reverie? Past lives? Gryph had known people back on Earth that claimed to have memories of past lives, but he’d always thought of them as unhinged wackos. After all, not everyone could be Caesar or General Patton or Joan of Arc in a past life, and nobody ever claimed to have been a gutter rat or a slave or a drunk. But here, in the Realms, it was a real phenomenon.

  A bit nervous, Gryph mentally tagged the YES button and his eyes closed. The sounds and smells around him grew distant, and he found he was floating on an endless sea of silver. Spheres rose in the reflective surface, expanding like soap bubbles. Images of places, people and events flowed across them touching the edge of Gryph’s awareness before popping and disappearing like an ill-remembered dream.

  Gryph focused on the closest and saw himself as a child that was not Finn Caldwell, but a young girl, smiling, her face stained by mud. She wore a basic linen dress and ran through tall reeds along the bank of a wide river. A voice raised in joy flowed over the water and Gryph was happy.

  Then the bubble popped, and he was back floating on the silver sea. Another bubble expanded right in front of him, and part of him wanted to back away. I do not want to remember this life, a distant part of his mind warned him, but the bubble of thought stuff burbled around him, and once again he was elsewhere.

  He was tired, and he was far too low to the ground. Where the last memory had been sharp and vibrant, this memory was dull and clouded, as if he remembered it through a fog of alcohol or anesthesia.

  He was in a massive underground chamber, and someone was yelling in a violent and angry tone. He blew off the voice and focused on a massive cube of silvery-gray metal. It reflected a distorted face back at him, a face he knew was his own, but one that he did not recognize. It bore a ragged beard, a broad nose and a furious scowl. A band of dull iron and shining jewels crowned his head.

  He placed both hands upon the metal cube, but unlike the joy he’d experienced as the child running along the river, he felt a grotesque rage of helplessness burn through him. He screamed from deep within as he sensed another mind, a horrid, singular alien presence blocking him, and he knew that he was but a passenger in this body.

  The crown grew warm on his head and one gem, a large, clear diamond, glowed with internal light. He placed hands that he did not control atop the cube and the metal bubbled and flowed. The fearful and angry voice that begged for his attention grew louder, tinged with desperation.

  Gryph tried to call for help, but the other presence controlled his every move. The metal of the cube parted and rumbling buzz built in his ears. Gryph heard one last, desperate plea, but the entity controlling his body paid the speaker no heed.

  Silence reigned for mere moments before the blade of a sword exploded from Gryph’s chest. He felt his heart punctured and heard a terrible yowl of anger as the presence became fully known to him. Prime? Gryph thought in shock. I am Prime.

  Something soft and moist smacked him upside the head, and the vision faded. He was back on the sea of silver as thousands upon thousands of bubbles rushed to the surface before popping like boiling water.

  Gryph started to panic when another wet, slurping something smacked into his head and he was back in the forest. A piece of ripe fruit, similar to a peach dripped down his temple and onto his lap. Gryph stared up in irritation to see Xeg hanging from a tree branch.

  “Get up uglies, big hairy coming.”

  Gryph tried to process what he had just seen, while simultaneously wondering what the hell the irritating imp was blathering about when an unearthly howl split the night, and his irritation, like the memories of his past lives, faded.

  3

  Another howl tore the air, this one much closer. Gryph had no idea what kind of beast made that noise, and since it made the baalgrath he’d slain in the Barrow sound like an overly aggressive rabbit, by comparison, he had no desire to find out.

  Gryph hefted his spear, forcing his mind to leave the horror he’d relived in his Soul Reverie behind. Ovyrm stood to his left, his sword held in the two-handed grip so reminiscent of the samurai from Earth. Wick’s hands were pulsing with red-black chthonic energy. Gryph turned to Tifala, whose own hands glowed a pale green. “Will your spell hold?”

  As Gryph understood it the Hearth of the Home spell that Tifala had cast acted along the same principle as a citronella candle to bugs. She claimed it would mess with the senses of most animals and monsters, turning them away from this home away from home. He had faith in the gnomish life master’s abilities, but one look at her face told him they’d best prepare for a fight.

  “I do not know,” Tifala said, grim-faced.

  Gryph frowned and prepped for battle. He activated his new Adventure Party Perk, and all four of his companions looked at him in mild surprise, but then one by one they accepted his leadership. You sure you’re up for this? Gryph asked himself.

  Wick, Tifala, Ovyrm, and Xeg have accepted the invitation to your Adventure Party.

 
All members now share a Telepathic Bond (Boon 1).

  All members will now split all XP generated by the actions of the Adventure Party. An XP bonus of 25% is applied.

  The Morale of your Adventure Party is currently 11.

  10 for Escaping the Barrow + 1 for Leadership Level 3

  You and your followers are rewarded with a +25% regeneration to Health, Stamina, Mana, and Spirit.

  Gryph opened his mind to the others. Be ready, but stay quiet. Hopefully, Tifala’s spell will convince whatever that is out there to keep on moving. Gryph thought, holding out little hope that would be the case. I’m thinking at you Xeg.

  Gryph heard what must have been the imp’s version of an old man’s harrumph. Xeg most quietest, unlike big noisy stomp stomps.

  By Ganneth, I am cursed. Wick sent.

  You sent that to all of us honey, Tifala thought.

  Shit.

  Xeg show tiny goober what real cursed be. Xeg very most good at cursing.

  Let’s focus kiddos, Gryph thought and gripped the War Stave of the El’Edryn King in his hands and pumped mana into its storage function. The artifact was immensely powerful and could act as a magical battery, storing upwards of 200 points of mana, but he had to fill the weapon himself. He cursed himself for not doing so earlier as his mana stores sunk to less than half.

  Gryph stared into the trees, and a sudden flurry of motion announced the flock of lutins. They swarmed up and over the sphere of Tifala’s spell, and Gryph could have sworn he caught glimpses of silver strands wrapped around waists and heads. He had no time to further lament his hair as several trees in front of the dome parted and fell.

  The ‘big hairy’ had arrived, and even though the trees and undergrowth still shrouded the beast, Gryph knew it was huge. It uprooted a tree that crashed near the edge of the invisible dome. Then another tree fell, and Gryph saw the beast.

  Baalgrath, Gryph thought in astonishment. This one was larger than the one he’d killed in the Barrow, and something was definitely different about it. Its gray skin was mottled through with violent streaks of dark orange. The streaks pulsed and Gryph realized that they were the beast’s arteries and veins. What the hell? He used Analyze.

  Corrupted Baalgrath: Level 36 - H:560/S:620/M:0/SP:0

  Baalgrath are not natural beasts. They are the product of ancient magical experimentation, which combined the ancient race of wyrmynn lizard people with mountain trolls. Baalgrath are not the most intelligent or cunning creatures, but they are tough and difficult to kill. Their extensive regeneration abilities allow them to heal nearly any wound given time. Baalgrath are omnivores, but rather enjoy feasting on the smaller sentient races that live on the surface. Solitary creatures in the wild, their wyrmynn cousins often keep baalgrath as pets.

  This baalgrath has been corrupted by some nefarious and infectious force. All of its natural abilities are increased, and the beast is in a near perpetual state of rage.

  Strengths: Unknown Immunities: Unknown: Weaknesses: Unknown.

  Well, that is just perfect, Gryph thought, sharing his Analyze window with the others.

  The entire group stood absolutely still, even Xeg. The baalgrath paused and sniffed the air through its massive nostrils. Baalgrath were subterranean creatures. What the hell was this thing doing topside? As the beast slowly moved its head side to side, searching with its incredible sense of smell, Gryph noticed its eyes. Small, beady and near useless underground, they had to be absolute torture in this light. They were red and swollen and a thick black ooze leaked from the corners. Blood, Gryph realized in shock.

  Don’t let it bite you, he heard Tifala say in his mind. It is corrupted.

  So it would be okay to let it bite me if it wasn’t corrupted? Wick sent with definite snark.

  By what? Gryph thought, ignoring the pulse of irritation Tifala sent through the link.

  I do not know. I have never seen anything like it, Tifala responded.

  Do you recognize it Xeg? Gryph asked.

  Xeg no ever see such corruption, and Xeg see lots of everything. A wave of terror flowed from the small demonling.

  That doesn’t bode well, Ovyrm sent, his mental voice tinged with anxiety.

  The dual onslaught of fear coming from both the imp and the xydai chilled Gryph. He felt the gnomes’ minds grow cold at that revelation.

  Demons are not supposed to feel fear, Wick thought with an undercurrent of bubbling panic.

  Xeg no afraid, came the imp’s irritated reply, but everyone in the link knew the demonling was lying.

  Calm everyone. Let’s see what it does, Gryph sent. Gryph heard mental grumbles, but his crew stayed calm. The baalgrath scrunched its nose up, inhaling deeply. It cast its head back and forth, listening and smelling. A few tense seconds passed before the beast turned left and walked slowly around Tifala’s dome. Five pairs of eyes followed it closely, their owners standing rigid and unmoving.

  They held their breath until the beast disappeared into the woods, but the sound of falling trees marked its path. Behind him, Gryph heard Wick exhale. In the silence, the sound was as loud as a strong summer breeze. Gryph looked at his friend and nodded.

  That was close, Wick sent. Gryph smiled at the gnome.

  Do not waste your energy celebrating just yet, Ovyrm sent and shared the image of what he was seeing. A massive wolf stood just outside the barrier, its eyes staring at something that it could not see, but somehow sensed. It was an odd sensation. He was still looking at Wick whose eyes had gone wide, but he was also seeing the beast that confronted them through Ovyrm’s perception. It was a strange double image, like a fade in a movie if the scene had become stuck mid-transition.

  Slowly Gryph turned himself towards the beast. It stood chest high, and its mottled gray fur was stained with dried blood. The eyes swam with the same dark orange pulses that had discolored the baalgrath. It was closest to him and had it not been for Tifala’s spell the wolf would have been on him before he’d even known it was there. Gryph Analyzed the wolf.

  Corrupted Dire Wolf: Level 13 - H:220/S:320/M:0/SP:0

  Dire wolves are larger and more vicious cousins of ordinary wolves. They are pack hunters and are never alone. Dire Wolves have mastered the tactic of showing one pack member to distract potential prey from sneak attacks by the rest of the pack.

  This dire wolf has been corrupted by some nefarious and infectious force. All of its natural abilities are increased, and the best is in a near perpetual state of rage.

  Strengths: Unknown Immunities: Unknown: Weaknesses: Unknown.

  Gryph’s eyes slowly looked to the left and then to the right. Could these things see through their defenses? If it could, then the rest of the pack was likely flanking them at this very moment.

  Watch your flanks. These things are pack hunters, Gryph sent. He could sense more than see his crew turning away from the dire wolf in front of Gryph as they eased into a defensive circle. Gryph kept his eyes locked on the beast in front of him as it continued to sniff the air. It eased slowly forward, its muzzle encountering the invisible edge of Tifala’s sphere and the wolf growled as if some unseen force was irritating the beast. As its muzzle touched the barrier, red-orange flashes of energy pulsed up and around the dome.

  Get ready, the field is coming down, Tifala sent.

  A moment later the field shimmered and fell. Then the world became a swirl of gray and orange as the wolves launched themselves at the group. Gryph became a blur of motion as the first dire wolf lunged at him, orange ichor dripping from its slathering jaws.

  The beast was upon him so quickly that Gryph barely had time to active his Parry perk. The wolf brought its jaws down upon the haft of his spear as Gryph pushed upwards. The beast snarled and slobber sprayed across Gryph. He twisted the spear, satisfied to hear teeth crack as the white mithril of the spear crushed and tore at them. The wolf howled in rage and agony and fell back.

  Gryph wasted no time. He pumped half of the stored mana into his weapon and activated his Impale
perk with a powerful thrust. The tip of the spear entered the beast right below the collarbone and Gryph triggered Penetrating Strike, pushing mana through the spear tip and into the wolf. The wolf’s eyes widened in shock and pain, but the madness that held its mind drove it towards Gryph, rabid jaws snapping as it got close. Gryph adjusted his grip on the spear and heaved with all his strength. His strike toppled the wolf off its feet and it landed heavily on its back. Gryph pushed and twisted the spear, and the wolf went limp, twitching the last few moments of its life away as it bled into the forest floor.

  Gryph tugged the spear free and turned just in time to see a second wolf leap at him. Without being conscious of the thought, Gryph pumped mana into his boots and a surge of speed and agility flowed through him. He activated Dodge and sidestepped the wolf’s attack. As the beast soared by him, he pumped Stamina into his Counter Attack perk and spun the spear in a tight arc.

  A spray of blood and a squeal of pain were his rewards as the adamantine tip of his spear sliced through the wolf’s neck earning him a Critical Hit. The wolf stumbled, blood pumping vigorously from its sliced jugular. He eyed the creature as it stumbled towards him. Gryph had landed a killing blow, but until the beast was dead, it was still deadly. It eyed him warily, a guttural choking rising from its ruined throat.

  Behind you, Tifala sent to him, and Gryph ducked and rolled as another wolf surged through the space he’d just left. Gryph felt the hot breath on his neck as the beast’s snapping jaw missed him by the slimmest of margins. He rolled back to his feet as a small form eased up to him back to back. Gryph didn’t have to turn to know it was Tifala.

  “The others?” Gryph asked.

  “Holding their own for now, but the ruckus is bound to draw more of these foul creatures,” Tifala responded.

  “Then it is time to end this,” Gryph said with a scowl. Gryph dumped more of the stored mana into his spear and advanced on the wolf. He spun the shaft of his weapon in furious arcs as the wolf regained its feet. It backed up under the spinning fury of his assault, but then bared its teeth and stood its ground. The look in its corrupted eyes sunk tendrils of fear into Gryph’s soul and for a moment Gryph sympathized with the beast.