The Lost City: The Realms Book Two: (An Epic LitRPG Series)

by C. M. Carney

  All eyes in the room were on the spear as the Icon flashed once, twice, three times, each flash surging tendrils of electricity up and down the weapon. A few moments passed and the distant rumble of thunder stopped, and the flashes of blue eased as the blue gemstone drew them back into itself.

  With a satisfied grin, Yrriel picked the spear up and handed it to Gryph. “What do you think?”

  Gryph took the spear in his hands and his mouth hung open as a prompt filled his vision.

  War Stave of the Elven King (El’Edryn War Stave)

  Item Class: Artifact - Item Category: Passive/Active.

  Base Dmg: 18 (+8 Artifact Bonus).

  Passive Powers.

  Power (1): +20% Total Mana.

  Power (2): Store 200 pts of Mana.

  Power (3): +3 to all Attributes.

  Power (4): +20% immunity to all Spheres of Magic.

  Active Powers.

  Power (1): Penetrating Strike (Damage added to strike).

  Mana Limit: 10% (+ Option for 20% of Stored Mana) - Cool Down: 10 min.

  Icons Slotted: 1 of 6.

  Icon 1: Maelstrom of Yrriel - This is an Icon of Air Magic

  Icon Category: Passive/Active.

  Charges: 125 (100 Base +25 Item Power perk)

  Passive Icon Powers:

  Power (1): 25% (20% +5% Item Power Perk) reduction to the Mana requirements for Air Magic spells.

  Active Icon Powers:

  Power (1): Yrriel’s Bite (+5 Electrical Damage added to strike + 1 per level of Air Magic mastery) x 1.25 (Item Power Perk)

  Cost: 1 charge - Cooldown: 10 seconds.

  Power (2): Yrriel’s Maelstrom. Creates an explosion of electrical power reminiscent of a lightning strike that causes 12.5 (10 points x 1.25 (Item Power Perk)) points of damage per level of Air Magic mastery to everything in a 20-foot radius. The bolts will avoid hitting the user as well as any members of the Adventure Party making them effectively immune.

  Cost: 25 charges. - Cooldown: 1 hour.

  Icon Regeneration: 1.25 charges per hour.

  This magnificent weapon was constructed by three grandmasters; an El’Edryn Smith, a Nimmerian Imbue Master and a Thalmiir Artificer with a gift of ultra-rare Prismatic Elementum from the Raal Zanaag (Orcs), to commemorate the Alliance Against the Dark Ascendency. To create the "War Stave of the Elven King, four ingots of White Mithril to construct the stave itself, one ingot of Prismatic Elementum (a mix of Black, Blue and White Elementum) entwined throughout, 6 draughts of Aether Worm Blood (to etch the slots for 6 Icons), an ingot of Adamant to make the adamantine spear tip, and four Blood Diamonds (diamonds infused with the blood of powerful beings; in this case a willing offering from the four racial leaders of the Alliance)

  One Icon has been added to the artifact.

  “Holy shit,” Gryph said, unable to keep his amazement in check.

  “I thought you’d like it,” Yrriel said with a sly smile.

  “You made this?”

  “It bears my name does it not?” she said with a wry note.

  “Can you teach me?”

  Myrthendir snorted. “Do you have decades to devote to the study of Imbuing?” He exchanged a grin with Yrriel. “If you even have the Affinity for the skill.”

  “Imbuing? What is that?” Gryph asked, feeling relief wash over him. They have no idea I have 100% Affinity in everything, thanks to the Godhead.

  “It is one of the rarer Crafting skills. Essentially it allows me to force my personal mana into an object, saving it until needed. Like I said before, magic can be corrosive to flesh and blood beings, so the gemstone takes the burden instead.”

  Gryph ran his hand along the Icon, stunned to discover that it had set perfectly inside the slot. The barely noticeable seam would not hinder his use of the weapon.

  “Can it be removed?” Gryph asked.

  “Are you expecting to find a treasure trove of Icons?” Yrriel asked, her hand on her hip and her smile giving Gryph the ‘you’re an idiot’ look that was the same for all women across all universes and cultures.

  “Maybe,” Gryph said with a grin, trying to regain some high ground in the relationship.

  “It is as difficult to remove as it is to slot, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “So I shouldn’t just pry it out with a dagger?”

  “Not unless you want all the stored mana to explode in your face.”

  Gryph was properly chastised. “What happens when I run out of charges?”

  “You wait for it to recharge or you come back to me, or someone like me and I place more mana into it.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  The older elf woman laughed at him. “Oh youngling, you have so much to learn. Survive the Thalmiir city and I’ll teach you, if you are pliable enough,” Yrriel said with a smile.

  Is it just me, or are the women of the Realms a little more … flirty and aggressive? “I’ll hold you to that,” Gryph said, trying to force snark into his tone. Yrriel tossed a quick glance at the loop of spider silk rope at his waist, and another flush of red flashed across his cheeks.

  “Good,” she said. “Now shoo, the Steward has one last thing for you.”

  Gryph turned to see his companions standing in a semi-circle as Gartheniel walked up with a velvet padded box containing five ruby laden platinum bands. Gryph’s mood soured at the sight of the rings. He wasn’t sure what Rings of Binding Fellowship were, but he suspected his life was about to get even more complicated.

  13

  Gartheniel held the box out to each of the five members of the group. Myrthendir took a ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand without hesitation. Ovrym eyed his platinum band with suspicion before slipping it on. Tifala examined hers with interest and Gryph suspected that she was trying to Identify its properties.

  Gryph had been unaware of just how powerful his ability to Identify any object was. It was just another wondrous power granted to him by the Godhead. Tifala, satisfied with her examination, slipped the ring on her own finger. Wick just scowled at it, holding it as far from his body as he could, as if it were some kind of poisonous insect. The Steward stopped in front of Gryph and his gaze was firm and steady. Gryph picked up the last ring. Gryph slipped the ring on and it adjusted its size to fit.

  “These are Rings of Binding Fellowship. They are mystic bands used in the days of old to bind a group of people to a common purpose. Vows taken and accepted under the aegis of the bands will become binding. Failure to abide by the terms of the vow can lead to discomfort, pain, sickness and even death. You will swear this vow under the leadership of Myrthendir, son of Lassendir and you will join his Adventure Party. Do you understand?”

  One by one the members of the group nodded that they understood. Wick glowered at Gryph for several heartbeats before grudgingly nodding himself.

  You have been invited to join Myrthendir’s Adventure Party.

  Do You Accept: YES/NO?

  One by one they all accepted. Even Wick barely grumbled.

  You have accepted an invitation to an Adventure Party while wearing Rings of Binding Fellowship. The Adventure Party is upgraded to a Fellowship. It doubles all Boons granted by the Adventure Party leader in potency and duration.

  You have been granted the Boon 1 Lore Boost.

  Knowledge is the key to power. Lore Boost grants you a short-term connection to the Sea of Knowledge. This connection will increase the level of any one skill by 1 level for the duration of the Adventure Party.

  Fellowship Bonus: Temporary increase is now 2 levels.

  Note: Temporary skill boosts do not affect tier level.

  Well that is amazing, Gryph thought and wondered if he could finagle keeping the rings after this current mission was over. Lore Boost was a badass boon although he had no idea what the hell the Sea of Knowledge was.

  Gryph opened his Skill Sheets and tagged Spears/Staves and his level jumped to 15. It upped his attack speed by 10% and his
damage and chance to hit by an additional 4% each. It didn’t sound like much, but Gryph had seen enough combat in his life, many lives if his Soul Reverie was legit, to know fate often turned on the slimmest of margins.

  Gartheniel waited for everyone to choose their bonus and then spoke again.

  “While I trust Sillendriel with every fiber of my being, her visions are not always easy to decipher.” The Steward cast a sideways glance at Myrthendir and Gryph saw the muscles of the Prince Regent’s jaw tighten.

  “She has seen glimpses of a possible future, and I hope her visions come to pass. I hope that your presence, your actions, will help ensure our safety in these uncertain times. However, I am a man who likes certainty, even when I know it cannot be promised. So, to ensure you are trustworthy and to ease my mind you will all swear a vow. These rings will bind you to a common purpose. If you stay true to the words, you will soon swear to, then you will be rewarded. If you fail, then your lives are forfeit under the law, though it is unlikely that you’d resist the negative effects of breaking the vow long enough to see justice.”

  Wick grumbled and tried to pull the ring from his finger, but it would not budge. Gartheniel gave him a look of disapproval and Tifala elbowed him in the ribs. Wick scowled at her before noticing the half elf’s glare, and despite the gnome’s anger, a guilty look crossed his face and he stopped tugging on the ring.

  “Now bring your right fist to your hearts and repeat after me.”

  All five of them did as bid. Gryph felt a wave of warmth flow from the ring and into his hand. It swirled around his wrist and flowed up his arm, then into his chest and to the rest of his body. It felt like settling into a hot bath after a hard day’s physical labor.

  “I … Your Name … swear to hold faith with the other members of this fellowship. I vow to do all that is in my power to prevent the Dwellers in the Dark from using any power found in the city of Dar Thoriim for an ill purpose, whatever that purpose may be. I vow I will support the members of this fellowship with my weapons, my magic, my skills and my life in all the ways I am able. I vow I shall hold faith with Myrthendir the leader of this fellowship for as long as he holds faith with me. I vow that my word is my bond and that the words I now speak are true and honest.”

  They all repeated the vow and the sense of warmth became a chill that flashed up from the ring and into Gryph’s chest, where it seemed to grip his heart in an icy embrace. He closed his eyes and bent over with a grunt of pain and heard the other four do the same. When he opened them again, the pain had abated and the jewel on the ring flared a brilliant blue white and then faded.

  Gryph used his Identify talent.

  You have been awarded a Ring of Binding Fellowship

  This ring is a powerful magical item that helps ensure trustworthiness and Fellowship in an Adventure Party that may otherwise lack such fidelity. Any Vow sworn to while wearing this ring becomes binding. Stay true to your Vow and you will be rewarded with the following Buffs. Break the Vow and you will suffer from the following Debuffs.

  Powers: All Adventure Parties are upgraded to Fellowships. +200% potency and duration of all Boons granted by the Fellowship leader.

  Buffs:

  Buff 1: +25% to Health, Stamina, Mana and Spirit regeneration.

  Buff 2: One full heal per day.

  Buff 3: +20% to the likeliness of achieving a Critical Hit against any foe that opposes the mission of the Fellowship.

  Buff 4: +1 to each Attribute.

  Debuffs:

  Debuff 1: -50% to Health, Stamina, Mana and Spirit regeneration, until the vow is honored.

  Debuff 2: Health, Stamina, Mana and Spirit reduced by 50%.

  Debuff 3: -50% to hit.

  Debuff 4: You are afflicted by Traitor’s Rot, a mystical disease that will lower all of your Attributes by 1 point per hour. If any Attribute reaches 0 you will die.

  Reward: Upon the successful completion of the Fellowship a Reward may be granted by the Vow taker.

  Gryph’s eyes went wide in shock. The Buffs were amazing, but the Debuffs were terrifying.

  “This will end badly,” Wick muttered under his breath.

  “Only if you are a liar,” Gartheniel countered. “Stay true to your word and great rewards will be yours.” A young male elf walked up and handed each of the members of the Fellowship a small pouch. “As a token of our appreciation for taking on this task, please accept these potions. May they serve you well in the coming trials.”

  Gryph opened the pouch to see three Potions of Healing, three Potions of Stamina and three Potions of Mana. Another, smaller vial he had never seen before also lay in the pouch.

  You have been awarded an Elixir of Mastery

  Drinking this elixir will grant you a 25% bonus to all XP gained for 24 hours. It will also grant a 50% experience bonus to any one skill for 24 hours. Hold the name of the skill in the mind while drinking the elixir.

  Everyone murmured at the amazing power of the Elixir of Mastery and the Steward nodded. “These elixirs are incredibly rare and powerful. Use them wisely.” The group nodded their appreciation and made final preparations to leave. The Steward walked up to Gryph. “May I have a word with you in private?” Gryph nodded, and the Steward led him away from the others. The man hesitated as if he were trying to figure out how to discuss a difficult and painful topic.

  “How can I help you Steward?” Gryph asked.

  For several moments the half elf seemed deep in thought before looking up at Gryph. “I need you to give me your word you’ll do all you can to protect Myrthendir, especially from himself. He is a capable warrior and a master of secret knowledge, but he is rash and will sacrifice himself for the greater good.”

  Gartheniel paused and looked at his soon to be liege lord and then back at Gryph. “You cannot allow him to put himself in undue danger. He is Regent now, regardless of what law and tradition states, and Sylvan Aenor needs him, especially if what the adjudicator tells us is true. Word will soon spread, if it hasn’t already, that the High King will never return to us.”

  The smaller half elf gripped Gryph’s forearms tightly.

  “If I could, I would add this personal vow to the Rings of Binding Fellowship, but they do not work in such a manner. So I ask this as a man who cares very much for those under his care.” Both men glanced at Myrthendir again as the tall elf lord joked with the others, even eliciting a small smile from Wick. Pride mixed with worry on the Steward’s face. “But I know that without Myrthendir … we will be lost. Will you help me help him?”

  “I will do my best Gartheniel. You have my word,” Gryph said and gripped the shorter man by the shoulder.

  “That is all a man can ask of anyone.” He looked at Myrthendir once more and then smiled up at Gryph. “Let’s get you down to the quay. It is time you crossed the Deep Water. Who knows how much of a head start the Dwellers in the Dark have on you.”

  14

  The quay was a massive stone pier that knifed out into the thin lake. The dark blue, almost black of the Deep Water reminded Gryph of the lochs scattered across Scotland. Ill thoughts of serpent-like creatures swam into his mind and he grinned at his foolishness. No need to invent imaginary monsters. The Realms have plenty of real ones.

  The fellowship climbed into a waiting boat that, like everything else in Sylvan Aenor, was as much a work of art as a functional piece of equipment. A tall human, with sandy hair and deep blue eyes, piloted the boat. He helped them stow their gear and pushed them off.

  Ovrym eyed the lake warily. Gryph came up beside him and whispered. “You okay?”

  Ovrym’s eyes snapped up and Gryph felt the fear in the stalwart warrior monk’s eyes. “Water is a rare and precious resource in the Outer Realms. We adjudicators rarely see it in such quantities. It makes me … uncomfortable.”

  Gryph nodded towards the boat. “It looks pretty solid. We should be fine.”

  Ovrym nodded. “I hope you are right.”

  “Does anything live in this lake?” W
ick asked as the sail took the wind and the boat moved away from the quay. He dragged his fingers in the water, leaving small rivulets in their wake.

  “Fish … mostly,” said the boatman.

  “Mostly?” Wick said, turning towards the calm man at the tiller. “But not only?”

  “There are old tales,” the boatman said as the boat picked up speed. “Tales of a great serpentine beast named Deni.”

  “Deni? Doesn’t sound so bad,” Wick said.

  “It is short for Denizen,” Myrthendir said, with a grin.

  Wick jerked his hand up and looked into the deep black waters. “Just how old are these tales?”

  “Something came to the surface a few mornings back as I was casting my nets. All glistening black scales and fins. The air turned frigid, and the waters seemed to stop churning, despite the strong winds that morning.”

  Wick’s eyes widened in alarm and he stared at the boatman.

  “Or it might have been an old tree,” the boatman said as if the difference made no difference at all.

  Wick clued into the fact that he'd been played. “I hate all of you.” Chuckles flowed from the boat and over the water as Tifala hugged Wick from behind.

  The boat cut through the water with barely a sound. Gryph peered over the side where the hull barely touched the water, like a hydrofoil back on Earth. He gave a glance to Myrthendir.

  "Water and air masters have imbued the craft with spells that hasten the speed of the craft. We will be across the Deep Water in no time. It may be our one advantage. Hopefully it will help us catch Barrendiel before he uses the seal."

  The elf’s eyes went dark at the mention of his cousin’s name. “You argued against opening the city. Why?”

  Myrthendir sighed and sat down. “The Thalmiir were said to be greedy, isolationists with a superiority complex. It was a well-deserved reputation, but they were peerless smiths and crafters and the El’Edryn and the Nimmerians knew without their aid, Korynn would fall to the Dark Ascendency. The high elves and high men each built cities here in the valley to force the Thalmiir to engage them. A few skirmishes broke out, but eventually the Stone King faced the power of the Dark Ascendency and agreed to join the Alliance.”