Eden's Gate_The Sands_A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  “Dryden,” I repeated and grabbed the hilt of my dagger as if I was ready to launch an attack. I must have looked like a madman, standing there making threatening moves against two guys who were decked out in full suits of sturdy armor and obviously higher level than me.

  The two men took a step back and put their hands on their swords. “What’s your problem?” one of the men asked. “Trying to get yourself killed today?”

  I gave a wide, toothy smile, reminding myself to act as crazy and ‘brutal’ as possible. “Today would be a good day to die, wouldn’t it?”

  The face of the two men wrinkled and they threw each other questioning glances. “I don’t know you’re tryin’ na—“

  “He’s a pretty low level,” the second man interrupted the other. “He doesn’t pose much danger to anyone. Let’s just bring him to Dryden. If he gets himself killed, it’s his problem.”

  The first man snarled and threw me a death stare before giving a slight nod to his companion.

  “Come,” the other man said, grabbing me by the shoulder and giving me a hard pull towards the keep.

  Halfway through the pull, I remembered to keep up my new persona, and wondered if I should try to kill the guards to achieve that effect. But I just yanked at my arm and pushed the guard away as soon as we reached the door.

  Both men grabbed their sword hilts right as the door of the keep swung open, and I stepped through it defiantly, ignoring the men as if I hadn’t a care in the world.

  Immediately in front of me was large dining table with enough room for twelve people, and pressed against the furthest wall was a towering, large chair. Aside from a few pots and vases that were darted around the corners of the massive room, there area was virtually barren of décor.

  At the head of the table was a man with a long, grey beard and scraggly long hair. He wore the same dark armor and insignia across his chest as that two men outside, though a black cape was strung around his neck. A vertical scar ran the length of the left side of his face, and his skin looked thick as leather.

  His chair was the only one at the table with a tall, raised back, and he was ripping through a cooked chicken leg like it was his last meal.

  The man’s eyes shot up from his food when he saw me enter, and I strode into the dining area without any sort of reservations.

  “Slaver?” the man asked through a mouthful of food. “What are you doing here?”

  “We warned him,” the two guards standing behind me said.

  “You have a message?” the man at the table asked.

  I took a few steps forward until I was at the other edge of dining table. It was time to make my big move. “I’m here to join the Bloodletters.”

  The man paused and stared at me while he chewed the last remaining bits of food in his mouth. He then dropped the chicken leg that he was holding in his hand and stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking them one by one. “Join the Bloodletters?” He nodded a few times while licking, and when he was satisfied his digits were clean, he looked towards the two guards. “A Bloodletter applicant. What do you think of that?”

  The two guards said nothing.

  I went for my final move.

  “I brought you a gift, Sir Dryden.” I couldn’t be sure if I was speaking to Dryden, but I couldn’t deny the vague resemblance that the guy at the table had to The Dark Hand.

  “Sir Dryden?” The man asked.

  I didn’t respond, and just reached into my bag, grabbing a thick head of hair and pulling the severed head out for all to see. I heard the two guards unsheathe their swords, but Dryden just looked on with no change of expression.

  I tossed the slaver’s head on to the dining table, and the head rolled several feet until it hit the edge of Dryden’s plate.

  He looked down at the atrocity, and for a moment I thought he was disgusted by its rolled-up eyes and plasticy, dead skin. But then he smiled and chuckled. “You killed Slave Master Rohlhol? He was at least level 26…”

  I killed a level 25? Or higher? I wondered. If it had been any other time, it would’ve seemed unbelievable, but as I was still on a kroka high, I had the sensation that I could kill a level 100 if I wanted to. I was way overconfident.

  I gave Dryden a slight nod.

  “Why?” Dryden asked.

  I locked my fingers together and bent them back, causing them crack. I wanted to paint the picture of the most arrogant, cocky, bloodthirsty asshole possible. “He annoyed me.”

  Dryden leaned back fully into his chair, swallowed and gave a slight nod. He looked past me and to the guards. “Come on. What do you think, boys?”

  When the two guards said nothing again, he stood from his chair, and I immediately noticed how tall he was—a few inches over six foot at least. He walked around the dining table and towards me with his chin held low and his eyes pointed to the ground as if he were thinking.

  He stopped a foot away from me and looked me directly in the eye. “What makes you think that you can march in here, throw your leader’s head on my table, and it’ll just earn you a spot in the Bloodletters?”

  “Why not?” I asked, staring back at him, showing not an ounce of fear. “I don’t waste time, and I wanted you to see that I was capable to join your guild.”

  Dryden clenched his teeth and leaned in so that his forehead almost touched mine. “I hate traitors,” he snarled. He stood unmoving for a moment, his eyes burning into mine, and I was certain that he was about to attack. In one swift motion, he drew the long sword that was draped at his side, and swung it upwards, missing me so closely that I heard the blade whizz by my ear.

  Bad aim? I wondered. I reflexively reached for my dagger, preparing for a counter attack.

  “But!” Dryden yelled loudly and turned around exposing his back, making it obvious that he intentionally didn’t hit me. He twirled his sword in wide vertical circles as he spoke. “Killing Slave Master Rohlhol at your level, cutting his head off, and marching into my keep alone? That’s fucking impressive!” He twirled his sword one final time and slammed it down at the table slicing into the severed head. When he lifted the sword back up, the blade was lodged in the head’s skull and the head rose with the blade. He looked up to it in admiration. “You just might be worthy of a position.”

  “Might?” I asked.

  Dryden reached up and pulled the head off the blade. He quickly tossed the bleeding head at the two guards that were standing behind me, and one of them caught it, then squeamishly tossed it to the other. They passed it back and forth a couple times like a game of hot potato, each one of them not wanting anything to do with it, until it finally fell to the ground. They straightened their backs and tried to act like they weren’t as fazed as they were.

  Dryden snorted. “If you ever get the idea that you can kill me the same way that you killed Rohlhol, I’ll cut your balls off and let you bleed out.” He rubbed his finger across his blade. “And then when you think you’re just about to die, I’ll bandage your wound and skin you alive.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m a busy guy, so I’m sure the process will take several days.”

  I smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear. “I would expect nothing less of you.”

  Dryden looked at me out of the corner of his eye and let out a single chuckle before putting his sword back in its sheath. “It’s been years since I’ve met someone like you… What’s your name?”

  “Gunnar,” I replied.

  “Gunnar…” He walked over to me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I think I might like you, Gunnar.” He patted twice. “You can join the Bloodletters on a preliminary basis. If I feel you’re not a good match, I’ll ask you to leave, but if you fail to serve me, you’ll die.”

  You have been invited to join the registered guild, The Bloodletters! If you’re already a member of a registered guild, you will automatically be disbanded from that guild if you accept.

  Do you accept this invitation? Yes/No

  It wasn’t clear right away if joini
ng the Bloodletters would force me out of Unity. Unity was a rogue guild, and the messages didn’t mention anything about being a member of a registered guild and a rogue guild at the same time. It had also been a while since I had the discussion with Aaron about guild types, so I couldn’t remember exactly what he said.

  Still, I didn’t have much of a choice. Even if Unity was disbanded, I had to do what I had to do if I were to ever make it back home. We could always regroup and reform later.

  I willed myself to accept the invitation.

  Congratulations! You are now member of The Bloodletters! Details about your guild can be found on your Manifest screen.

  Dryden smiled. “I hope you know what you’ve got yourself into, Gunnar.”

  “I’m sure I—” I stopped talking when a chill flowed through my body. My knees were suddenly weak, and I felt like I was going to faint. I stumbled forward and grabbed onto the chair at the dining table, trying to prevent myself from falling.

  “What’s the hell?” Dryden snarled.

  “I ugh…” I looked down at the ground, unable to hold my head up straight, and only then did I notice that the floor of the keep was covered in a gooey, sticky substance. I felt like I was struggling to breath, and when I took a deep gasp for air, all I got was lungs full of stinky, rotten death.

  I wanted to vomit.

  At first, I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but then I looked to my status bars and saw a green skull and crossbones below, much like the one that appeared anytime I was poisoned.

  You are experiencing drug withdrawal. Your Willpower has been reduced to 1 and your attack power is drastically reduced. This effect will naturally wear off, but can be cured immediately through healing remedies or additional drug use.

  All the fear that the kroka had suppressed seemed to flood into me all at once, while all the overconfidence seemed to wash away.

  I was standing between three killers, all higher level than me, and I had just joined their guild. I looked over to the defiled head. I had cut someone’s head off?! I couldn’t believe I did that! What the hell was I thinking?

  My stomach did a somersault and I fell down to one knee. My mind was spinning, and my tongue felt like sandpaper.

  “What the hell?” Dryden barked.

  “Water…” I gasped. “I need water…”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  1/22/0001

  I slammed the goblet of water down and leaned back in my chair. Drinking had helped a little bit, but I still felt dizzy, nauseous and weak. Regardless of how I felt, I knew I needed pull myself together put on a straight face or my relationship with Dryden would deteriorate fast.

  “Better?” Dryden asked.

  “Yeah,” I groaned. “I must have been out in the desert sun too long. I’ll be fine.”

  The main door of the keep swung open, and one of the Bloodletters walked swiftly towards dining table where I was sitting and the three other Bloodletters were standing. “This quest may be of interest, Lord Dryden.”

  Lord Dryden? I wondered if they expected me to call him Lord as well.

  Dryden grabbed a small scroll out of the man’s hand and started to read. “This should be good, thank you. You’re dismissed.”

  The man gave a deep nod, turned on his heel and quickly marched back out of the keep.

  “Get him some food and show him to a room,” Dryden said to one of his soldiers. He turned to me. “There’s a few areas where you can fight monsters for experience surrounding the keep, or you’re welcome to spar and practice in the training room. If you need rest, make sure you get it now. I don’t want you being the mess that you are now when we head out tomorrow.”

  “Head out tomorrow?” I asked.

  “You’ll accompany me on this quest. I want to see your skills in action.”

  “Shall I set him up in the shared living quarters?” the soldier asked.

  Dryden pooched his lips together and shook his head slightly. “Show him to one of the commander’s quarters for now. With all our men off to battle, there’s plenty of room to spare. When our squadrons return, we can move him to the shared quarters with the others.”

  The soldier nodded and stepped around me to a hall off the to the left side. “This way.”

  I stood up, focusing hard on staying steady and showing no more signs of how terrible I felt. “Thanks,” I said.

  Dryden raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Thanks, Lord Dryden,” I corrected.

  Dryden didn’t acknowledge my thanks. He just returned to his seat at the head of the dining table and started scooping up the food he hadn’t finished, shoving it into his mouth.

  I groggily followed the soldier down the bland, undecorated hallway. I tried to make a note of each door we passed, but after the fifth or sixth door, I realized that I was going to have to wait until I was feeling better if I wanted to commit anything to memory.

  The black substance covering the floor of the hall was mostly dry, unlike the gooey area in the dining area, but there was a step where my feet squished and felt sticky as I lifted them up. “What is this on the floor?” I asked.

  “Blood,” the soldier replied.

  “Blood?”

  “Do you have a hearing problem?”

  “W-w-why is there is blood on the floor?”

  “Dryden’s orders,” the soldier replied. “When blood is spilled in or around the keep, it stays there as a constant reminder to us all of what happens to those who go against us. Bodies and guts we can dispose of, but the blood stays.”

  “This is all blood?” I asked looking further down the hallway and noticing that some of the substance was splashed against the walls.

  “It may look like a lot, but it’s several years’ worth of buildup. Dryden has only executed three people that I know of in the last couple of days.”

  Only three, I thought. What a wonderful guy.

  “You’ll stay here,” the soldier said, stopping and pressing open a small wooden door. “I’ll have someone bring you a little bit of food.”

  I stepped inside the room, and it was unimpressive. There was a fair-sized stone bed with a blanket and pillow on top, a table, a chest, and a weapon rack with a couple of weapons. Maybe it was the lack of décor or the coldness of the walls, but even Aaron’s small cabin looked a lot more comfortable and welcoming.

  My mind was cloudy, but seeing the room was a strong reminder that I wanted to find Satorin’s wife and get away from the keep as quickly as possible. The only reason I was there was to complete the mission, get my rune back, and recall to the other side of the Serpent Sea.

  I turned and cleared my voice. I thought there was a chance I might learn a clue of Maleena’s location. “What if I want the comforts of a lady?”

  The soldier chuckled. “Who do you think you are here? Dryden may be letting you sleep in a commander’s room for a while, but he’s not turning you into a prince. You’ll have to go out and find a woman on your own in your own free time.” The soldier raised his eyebrows and leaned forward a bit. “And let me give you some advice. If you find yourself a good lady, keep it to yourself, and don’t bring her to the keep. Anything Dryden wants, Dryden gets… and you can’t do nothin’ bout it.”

  I gave a slight nod.

  He pointed towards a pin on the wall that had a black piece of cloth with the Bloodletters emblem embroidered on it. “Throw that over your armor, so everyone who hasn’t met you knows you’re part of the guild.”

  “Alright. Thanks.”

  The soldier turned at that, walked out, and shut the door behind him.

  I exhaled as he was gone, letting out the tension and force that was building as I tried to maintain my composure. I took a few staggering steps forward and rolled onto the bed.

  Kroka was some serious stuff, and now I knew why it sold for so much money on the black market as well as why it was illegal. It was the only reason I was able to kill the slaver that was so much higher level than me, and I doubt I would’ve be
en able to talk my way into the Bloodletters without the strange effects it had on my personality.

  I shuddered as I remember the bodies and body parts that were mounted on the stakes outside the keep. I looked down at the floor inside the room, and while it wasn’t caked in blood like the hall and dining area, there were still lots of tracks and bloody footprints.

  The question, though, was where was Satorin’s wife? I had only seen a small portion of the keep, and I wasn’t sure how I’d find her without attracting attention.

  I started to tremble from the withdrawal effects as I lay there in the bed, and my mind started to wander. I wondered what Aaron, Ozzy, and the gang were doing back at our settlement. I hoped they were safe, but with ten dark elf guards, surely they would be, right? Surely.

  I thought about Rachel. I had started thinking about her a lot more since the day I teleported into the cave prison. I didn’t know if she was in Eden’s Gate, but if she was, I still wanted to find her. I didn’t want to forget my goal to make a name for myself in the world in hopes that maybe she’d learn about me and we’d be reunited.

  What would it even be like if that happened?

  I still cared about her, but everything had changed in the past few weeks. I had a new group of friends, and surely she did too. I had a new outlook on life and my personality was changing for the better. Maybe she had forgotten about me since then. Maybe she was on Earth. And then there was Adeelee…

  My body twitched a little and my stomach cramped. The side effects were strong and painful.

  Adeelee was beautiful and fun to be around, but when I was in the prison I was ready to give up on her. I admit I was pissed at the time, because I assumed that she had tricked me by giving me the wrong rune, but I think my reaction was telling. If it had been Rachel who had given me the rune, I wouldn’t have assumed for even a second that she had deceived me. Adeelee was still new to me, and while I was attracted to her, maybe I was basing too much of my feelings on her beauty. Plus, she was an NPC!