Camelot Dungeon: An Arthurian LitRPG

by Galen Wolf

  'Have you seen Bernard?'

  'Yeah, he's in the mine.'

  'He hasn't been to see me.'

  'Sorry, I'll tell him you miss him.'

  'I don't miss him.'

  'Right. Then what...?' I scratch my cheek.

  'I miss fighting! I want to go out and kill some bad guys. Can we go soon, please? Can we?'

  I laugh out loud. The crazy mule is saying what I'm thinking. We need to strike fear. We've been gone too long. I need to get skill points so I can dominate Reza and kill him every time. Then I'll take his boss Maligon.

  I stroke Spirit and tickle Henry's big ears then return into the mine. The guards knock the heels of their spears against the ground as a salute. I acknowledge them and pass within.

  A quick look at my dungeon schematic shows how much it has grown. Yellow dots of loot and green dots of mobs now litter the extensive first floor plan. I can see the cluster of chambers that make up the Fire Dwarf section and beyond that the interconnecting rooms of Tye's lair.

  I also see we have two groups of adventurers playing at the moment. There's a four and a five. They seem spread out so I don't think they are the same group. I hover over the group nearest the door, the five. They're Level 2s with one Level 3. I'm guessing they haven't been in long. Peter's traps are going to blow them to kingdom come at that level. All very nice for the dungeon xp.

  The group of four are higher level. Actually above the dungeon level at Level 4 all of them. They've survived the crush trap, so that means they've got the key.

  I decide to go see how they're getting on.

  It takes me five minutes to walk back into the dungeon proper and I close the connecting door behind me, locking it with my shiny key. I switch on Observation Mode and go down the Creepy Corridor. I see the Crush Trap has triggered and is smeared with blood. That will self clean but it shows the party of four was once at least a party of five. I check the dungeon xp and see it's risen a tad.

  Then I'm behind them as they descend into the Gas Room. They are in an extended line. The Heretic Healer is in the middle, a warrior at the back as rear-guard, a rogue in the front and another warrior behind the rogue. All Level 4s. The Heretic is carrying a burning brand for light. That's unfortunate.

  They go down the sloping corridor. Soon they'll be in the Gas Room. I hurry to catch up. I almost go on tip toes until I remember they can't hear me anyway.

  The rogue enters the gas room. I can't remember if it's always filled with inflammable gas or whether they need to trip something. I guess the latter. The rogue might not trip it. He's stealthy. He might even see the trap. I won't know for a while. The first warrior's in. Then the heretic with the torch. It's flickering flames cast long shadows back along the passage to where I'm standing. I edge forward until I see they're all inside. I see their shadows doing something, exploring. They've got the key to the far door. They're probably really pleased with themselves.

  Maybe they didn't trip the pressure pad. Maybe the rogue disarmed it and they're through.

  I go forward until I see exactly what they're doing. They're all clustered around the far door, standing back. I can almost feel the air of anticipation as the rogue checks the door for traps.

  It's not the door that's trapped of course.

  Boom!

  An explosion of incandescent gas roars out from the room. I feel the heat flash on my face. All four adventurers are instantly incinerated, and the xp ticks up by another 800.

  Ding!

  The Dungeon is now Level 4.

  21

  The Green Knight Returns

  The next time I log on, the population of Silver Drift is up to fifty-four; we're getting closer to our Milestone. I'm out in the fields of the Secret Valley watching the eagles swoop on their never ending vigil. I see some farmers manuring the fields and kids are playing round their ankles, a little boy and a little girl. Jason notices me from afar and comes over to join me.

  'Population's growing nicely. How long before we hit the hundred?'

  He shrugs. 'At this rate maybe six days or so?'

  'Plenty of beer?'

  He smiles. 'Plenty, but we're also growing other crops. Beer is mainly used to feed NPCs because it's cheap and easy to brew, but because we've got more fields now we're now trying other things — like potatoes and cabbage.'

  'I see we've got manure too.'

  'That comes with the cows and sheep. It increases the yield by 10% on each field.'

  'What's the benefit of using different foods to feed the NPCs? Surely beer is adequate.'

  He purses his lips. 'Beer is adequate, sure. But potatoes provide a 5% boost to population growth and cabbage 7%. They're just more nutritious.'

  'So we grow the village faster?'

  He nods. He hesitates then says, 'But bread is better still. It gives a 15% boost to population growth.'

  I smile. 'You're the business manager. Tell me what you need to start producing bread.'

  'First of all we need another couple of fields.'

  'You've got it. Clear the land. Use the farmers, I guess?'

  He nods. 'Then we need to plant wheat. We can make barley bread, but wheat bread's the best at 15%.'

  'So wheat it is.'

  'Then once we grow the wheat, we'll need to thresh it and winnow it then grind it into flour.'

  'So we need a mill?'

  He nods.

  'I'd prefer it underground. We can use one of the fast flowing underground streams. Will that work?'

  'Should do.'

  'Then a bakery?'

  'You guessed. And we'll need a baker. We don't have any, so we'll have to hire one from Asterix.'

  I realize this is going to cost me but Geraint is making and selling jeweler still from the precious metals the miners dig up and we're also vending the low level trash gear we clone. But if we shell all of this out, we'll have wheat bread, and if we have wheat bread, we'll breed population and if we breed population, I'll have an army. And I need an army. Not today, not next week, maybe not even soon, but as soon as I hear the King is pushing back north, I will bring out my forces to join him.

  I'm making my way back into the mine when Blodeuwedd appears in a flutter of white, all big eyes and feathers. She lands on my shoulder.

  'Blod! Long time no see.'

  'Don't call me Blod.'

  I grin. 'Where've you been?'

  'Here and there. I see you haven't improved much.'

  'Eh?'

  'Your level.'

  'I've been busy with the dungeon and the settlement. They've been levelling or improving. I haven't had time to look to my own level.'

  'I see you're on 26,895.'

  'You can see my character sheet?'

  The owl blinks. 'Of course. I'm your advisor. You need 31K for Level 13.'

  'I know.'

  'That's a long way. You better get to it.'

  I sigh. 'You're a very annoying bird.'

  Blodeuwedd gives a screech I take to be a laugh.

  'It's not just about me. I've got to be strategic.'

  'Have you thought about your prestige class, when you get to Level 15?'

  I give a noncommittal gesture. 'Some. I'd thought of Paladin. I think Fitheach would like me to do that. Paladins are pretty tanky. Plus you get healing.'

  'Stupid idea.'

  'Excuse me?'

  'Being a paladin is a stupid idea.'

  I consider knocking her off my shoulder, but maybe she's just trying to help so I take a different approach. 'You're the advisor. Go on advise.'

  She blinks again. 'They've implemented four prestige classes for the warrior path: Paladin, Death Knight, Barbarian and Baron.'

  'So—'

  '—You asked for my advice, so shut up and listen.'

  'Sorry.' I can't get mad at Blodeuwedd. She's annoying but so fluffy.

  'Death Knight is for evils.' She looks at me long and hard. 'You thinking of that?'

  I shake my head.

  'Nah, I didn't think
so. Barbarian is just rough and has no manners. Not for you.'

  I smile. 'You think I've got manners?'

  'Yeah, you do. You're very chivalrous.'

  I raise my eyebrows. 'That's the first nice thing you've ever said to me.'

  'Don't get used to it. It'll be the last for a while.' She reaches to pluck an itchy feather then turns her big lamp eyes back on me. 'So that leaves Baron. Look around you. You're already into that. You're a builder, a commander. It's in your nature. Don't be a plonky paladin.'

  'What's plonky?'

  'Bad. Don't be it.'

  'I don't know. I like the idea of being a holy warrior. I like the idea of having the healing and a few magic spells. You know you can stand and take so much damage with that self healing power.'

  'Plonky.'

  'That's the end of your advice?'

  She blinks a yes.

  'Thank you.'

  I walk back toward the mine entrance. I need this disguised so it looks like a wall of rock in case Satanus's minions ever come into the Secret Valley. Even if they burn down the farms, the mine would be secure.

  I'm thinking that when Blodeuwedd says, 'Reza's saying he can take you anytime.'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'He says you are a big girl and can't fight.'

  I'm halfway between outrage and laughter. 'What is he — six years old?'

  'Maybe, even if he is six, he's still a better fighter than you. I told you to improve.'

  'He's not a better fighter than me, he just got lucky.'

  She squawks again a noise filled with pure mockery. I feel the need to defend myself. 'I've been preoccupied. The time will come.'

  'You're not really striking fear into the enemy. That was your plan, wasn't it? You need to improve your build.'

  'What do you know about builds? You're an owl.'

  'Plenty.'

  The truth is that the skill in Camelot isn't necessarily about the toe to toe fighting. Players have certain combos of skills, absolutely. And that can make a difference, but the build is the thing. The choices you make with your skill points have a big influence on how you will do in the game. I made some unusual choices, putting skills into mining and smithing, but it's paid off and looking back, I don't think they were wasted. I've got far higher armor than most guys my level because of my smithing skills.

  I even found a build on the forums that advocated smithing and warrior combined. They called it The Miner 49er.

  I'll take a look at it when I next level.

  I'm at the door. The guards salute and look with narrowed eyes at Blodeuwedd, whom they suspect, correctly, of disrespecting their lord.

  'I'm going underground now. You won't want to come.'

  'No,' she says. 'See you around. Just improve your combat, Gorrow, so I can be proud of you.'

  I clump my way through the echoey stone passages until I come to the inhabited area. I hear the whump and hiss of the forge and feel its heat. Geraint is forging a sword, concentration etched on his face. I raise a hand in greeting but he's lost in his work and doesn't see me. Shortly, I come to Bernard's alchemical laboratory. The flasks bubble with their colored liquids and I smell gunpowder. Bernard is bent over a book. He's tooling it with leather and I see there is silver lettering on the front.

  'What are you up to?'

  'Gorrow! Great to see you. See this?'

  'The book?'

  'The tome, dear boy — the tome. This is the +100 skill tome. I'm just finishing it now.'

  'Oh, wow! That's great. The loot for Level 1, it'll get them pouring in.'

  He grinned. 'If they can get through Tye. None of them have made it through the Gas Room yet. It's been boom-boom every time.'

  'They will figure it out.'

  'Sure.' Bernard smiles. 'Even dumb Fangs of Koth or Bloods for Satanus have got to figure out it's a trap eventually. The same ones will return and remember and start looking around for the mechanism. But then they've got to get through the Fire Dwarfs, and then our Master of Fire himself. He's not going to let them win easily.'

  I study the tome. 'May I?' I pick it up gingerly. It doesn't look finished, but then it isn't. 'What's still to do?'

  'Alchemist stuff. Artificers skills. You wouldn't understand, you're just a dumb musclebound knight.'

  He's smiling but he half means it. Fair enough, he's probably right— I don't know anything much about his skillset.

  We sit down and shoot the breeze. He says, 'I'm going stir crazy down here. I need some fresh air.' He's eyeing me knowingly. I know he means go raiding. I'm reluctant to leave my settlement and my dungeon, but truth be told, my NPCs and players lodged here can run both for me if I go a way for a short while.

  And I need the xp. I tell Bernard I need to get up to 31,000 for Level 13.

  'I'm Level 14 now. The numbers get bigger but if you're doing it right, you're killing higher level mobs and enemies so it rolls in.'

  'What are you going to choose for your prestige class when you get to 15?'

  He ponders. 'Well, I could go Chemist— that's a potion specialist, or Artificer — making stuff like this tome and other enchanted items...'

  'Useful.'

  'Yeah, I know. But I'm really fancying Runesmith at the moment.'

  'I didn't know you were into runes?'

  'Nor did I. I put a few points into it as I was coming up and never really experimented until now. Come see.'

  He stands and takes me over to a wooden workbench. The wood is old and scarred but he has a tray of what look like jewelers tools and sheets of silver. He has shears to cut the silver then diamond knives to cut the runes. There's a book of runes propped up there and I see various sinuous designs.

  There are some cut and shaped runes on the bench. They look like a cross between Arabic and Hebrew letters, but they neither.

  He looks up brightly. 'I can fix some to your sword for extra effects. I'm only low level in my rune skills so far so I can't make a whole bunch of them yet. But this one...' He picks up a slender rune in his brown fingers. It looks like an eye outlined in silver, but simplified so it's only a few strokes. 'This one blinds your enemy. If it beats their Luck stat. It's got a value of 10.'

  That makes me frown. I have put precisely zero skill points into Luck. I groan. More things to put my valuable skill points into. I've never needed Luck so far. NPCs don't use anything I need to save against and fortunately, I've never knowingly come across a player who does either. I guess that will change the higher up I get in levels.

  'So if their Luck skill isn't better than 10, they get blinded?'

  'Precisely.'

  'Man.'

  'Want one on your sword?'

  I shake my head.

  'Why ever not? It'll help.' He's obviously really pleased with his new rune skill and I don't want to let him down but it's like using poisons. 'I just don't think a chivalrous knight would use such trickery.'

  He pouts. 'Suit yourself. What about this one?'

  He picks up another silver rune. It's small enough that it would fit along the middle of my sword. Its shaped like a triangle. I smile. 'What's this one do?'

  'This is a bleed rune. Value 10 again, so not great.'

  'How's it work?'

  'If you hit them, they bleed 10 health, then bleed 8 in a second's time, then 6, then 4, et cetera. Total damage of 30. Imagine when I can make a bleed rune 500!'

  I scratch my cheek. I'm interested.

  'Too unchivalrous?'

  I shrug. 'I'm not sure. I mean it's not magic...'

  'Not magic, magic. But it is magic, don't doubt that.'

  'Yeah but it's not sorcerous magic.'

  'I get where you're going with this. You want the rune, but you don't want anything to do with dirty, unchivalrous magic.'

  'I mean — holy magic is different.'

  'Sure.' He studies me. 'Magic is magic. You should use it because your enemies sure as heck will.'

  'And if I get the rune put on my sword, you can take it of
f again?'

  Truth is I'm not sure what the holy man, St Fitheach will think of this. I want to stay on the side of good.

  'Just try it.'

  I stand and draw my sword. Bernard takes it and places it on his workbench. The sword blade lies flat against the wood, the colored flames fluttering but not burning the bench.

  Bernard leans over. He gets a small brown flask with a wooden brush with bristle of hogs' hair. He dabs it and paints a small section of my sword blade.

  'What's that?'

  'Glue.'

  'Glue? You're kidding me, right? I thought you'd seal it with some arcane ritual.'

  'Nah, glue.'

  He places the bleed rune on the flat of the blade and smooths it down with his thumb. It lies smooth on the metal, gleaming slightly in the flicker of Bernard's several Bunsen burners.

  It doesn't look particularly special, or magic.

  'So this will work? It'll make them bleed?'

  He nods. 'Sure.' Then he rubs his stubbly chin. 'I haven't tested it, but it should do. Anyway, Gorrow, when are we going raiding again?'

  'Funny you should ask that. I saw Henry...'

  'That crazy mule. He's getting married, I hear.'

  'Please. I don't even want to talk about that lunacy. He's asked me to be best man.'

  'Really? That's a great honor.'

  I put up my hand. 'Stop. Anyway, he wants to go raiding.'

  'We should. Take the fight to the enemy. That's what you said.'

  'Yes. We should. I need the xp.'

  'Here. Wait.' He goes over to wooded rack against the wall. There are several rows of potion bottles all clustered there. They're all different colors. He brings me four and gives me two blue ones.

  'Health?'

  'Yeah. I always do health blue. Some of the others I change around, 'cause I get bored. Health 200s, mind you.'

  Two hundreds. That's pretty cool.

  He then gives me two black potions. I take them in my hand. They're vaguely warm.

  'Damage 200s. Put them on your sword.'

  I know what to do. I've used them before, and I realize that they're magic and it didn't bother me before. Maybe I'll get used to the idea. As long as Fitheach doesn't object and stop be being a paladin because of it.

  Bernard sits and flops his hands on his lap. 'So when are we off?'