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

by C. M. Carney

  Once again, Myrthendir seemed to read his mind and the tall elf conjured a large ball of silver light at the tip of his staff. He held the staff above his head and the sphere hummed gently for a moment before zipping into the darkness of the ancient welcome hall. It traveled a dozen feet before it pulsed and fired two smaller globes towards each wall. The main sphere continued its journey, periodically firing other pairs. By the time the original sphere hit another set of huge doors, the entire chamber was illuminated. Gryph estimated the distance to be at least one thousand yards from the entrance to the far door.

  Twenty feet inside the chamber a shining strip of gold nearly half a foot wide traversed the chamber from wall to wall. Gryph suspected it was an official border, between the Realms at large and this ancient city of a long dead people. He felt as if he were being watched. Apprehension built inside him as he stepped over the line.

  He paused as if waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. He inhaled deeply and took another step, then another. Each one easing the phantom feeling of eyes upon him. He looked back with a small smile. Matching grins creased the lips of his fellows, but then a low rumble built in the floor and flowed up Gryph’s legs.

  Grins faded and eyes went wide. Of course, that was too simple, Gryph thought. The rumbles built, augmented by the creaking of metallic machinery in dire need of maintenance. Gryph saw metallic glints of motion ahead of him and heard Wick exclaim in surprise behind him.

  Gryph spun towards his friend as the statue closest to Wick pulled itself from its alcove. It thundered forward on metallic feet and it raised an arm, palm up, at the gnome. Bursts of steam pulsed from its back as the plates of its body shifted with each step. A thunking, grinding, shifting sound rose as the now mobile statue’s arm split in half at the palm, creating a gap from which a nozzle protruded. A sound like a distant rush of wind built up and a deep orange glow built inside the tube pointed at Wick. He stood rigid as shock made him freeze.

  “Wick move!” Gryph yelled and rushed towards the gnome. From the corner of his vision, Gryph saw at least three other metal automatons coming towards the group.

  Fire erupted from the nozzle and snapped towards Wick like a grease laden serpent. It seemed alive the way only fire can as it surged towards the gnome. The danger of imminent immolation finally overpowered Wick’s shock and the gnome dove aside, just as the flames turned the spot he’d been standing into a charred stain.

  The metal monster turned towards Wick again and a second flare built inside the nozzle. Gryph increased his speed knowing his friend would not regain his feet before the flames enveloped him. Fear bit into him as the glow reached terminal brightness and Wick covered his head with both hands. Both men knew it was a pathetic defense.

  18

  Gryph screamed, but then he heard a pop of air rushing into a vacuum and the bitter tang of sulfur reached his nostrils. A flash of red and black soot exploded around the automaton’s hand just as the flames erupted from the end of the tube.

  Razor sharp-clawed hands and feet dug into the splayed metal fingers of the statue’s arms as the flames flowed around the crimson body of the tiny imp. Gryph’s mouth gaped open and then a loud cheer pushed from his throat. Drawn by the unexpected sound, Wick opened his eyes and watched Xeg not only taking the full brunt of the flames but somehow absorbing them.

  The scaled beast purred like a cat enjoying a good scratch from its human as the flames petered out. Then he laughed and crawled up the creature's arm. “Shiny for Xeg,” the imp said as he jumped from the massive construct’s arm and onto its head. Xeg clawed at the ruby eyes which now glowed with an internal light. Gryph wasn't certain, but the imp seemed to have gotten larger.

  He rushed to Wick’s side and pulled the gnome to his feet. “Did you know he could do that?”

  “Never seen anything like it,” Wick said, shock and elation battling in his voice. “Did he get bigger?” Neither man had any time to wonder as the chamber suddenly exploded with the buzz of mechanical whirring.

  Gryph spun to see three more of the large metal monsters had extricated themselves from their alcoves and joined the fray. Tifala had already cast her super handy vine spell, and root thick brambles twined about the machine's legs and dragged it to its knees. The mechanical whirring came from a fast-moving blade that vibrated faster than Gryph’s eyes could follow. It's a damn Realms version of a Sawzall reciprocating saw.

  The automaton brought the blade down onto the writhing vines and they parted like grass under a lawnmower. Tifala was not standing idly by, however, as she unleashed her spell Water Blast. The jet slammed into the metal creature with all the force of a firehose and it toppled backwards with a thunderous crash.

  Gryph turned toward the others. Ovrym was slashing and weaving, his curved red blade leaving deep scratches on the automaton’s brass colored carapace but doing little real damage. Myrthendir had conjured a glowing spiked mace head on the end of his staff and swung it with ease. The basketball-sized sphere crushed into the shoulder of the metal monstrosity with a crushing thunk. The monster’s arm went limp as a gush of clear golden oil erupted from the damaged joint.

  This dude is a badass, Gryph thought.

  Once again the Prince Regent showed an uncanny talent for knowing what Gryph was thinking, and the tall elf turned to him. “Return control of the Adventure Party to me,” the regal elf yelled. “I have a spell that will help.”

  With a mental flick, Gryph did as asked and a moment later a prompt came to him.

  You have returned control of the Adventure Party to Myrthendir.

  Myrthendir has granted the Adventure Party the spell, Blazing Armor.

  +20% to the effectiveness of all armor worn by the Adventure Party for 30 minutes.

  +20% to Movement and Attack Speed for 30 minutes.

  A luminous aura of light enveloped Gryph and twined its way around and through his armor. He felt more agile and quicker as he spun back to see Wick had regained his feet. The crimson glow of chthonic magic surrounded the gnome’s hands as he moved with heightened agility, avoiding the automaton’s attacks. Gryph knew the power the gnome’s Chthonic Bolt could unleash, but the gnome hesitated to fire for fear of hitting the imp who was spastically jumping about on the living statue’s head. It was almost comical watching the lumbering beast punch itself in the face repeatedly as it tried, yet failed, to crush the imp.

  Gryph took a moment to Analyze their opponents.

  Thalmiir Goliath: Level 32 - H: 986/S:2500/M: 585/SP: 0

  Thalmiir Goliaths are among the largest and deadliest of the Thalmiir constructs. These magically empowered automatons guarded Thalmiir cities, fortresses and treasure vaults. They are tireless protectors armed with blade and flame. While not intelligent in the standard sense, they will follow the simple commands of their masters. Given time a destroyed Thalmiir Goliath will regenerate and repair nearly any damage.

  Strengths: Unknown. Immunities: Unknown. Weaknesses: Unknown.

  Gryph grumbled under his breath. He really needed to level his Analyze skill. His inability to know the Strengths, Immunities, and Weaknesses of his opponents was becoming truly irritating. Well, I guess we’ll just have to beat them up the old-fashioned way.

  “These are Thalmiir automatons,” Myrthendir yelled above the din. “Their armor is incredibly tough. Aim for the joints and spaces between their armored plates. If you can get between them, their inner workings are susceptible to electrical damage.“

  Gryph was thankful for the information, but couldn’t shake the coincidence that, yet again, Myrthendir had offered the advice just as the question had come into Gryph’s mind.

  A quick look around told him that Ovrym needed the most immediate help. The saber wielding warrior monk was likely the deadliest of all of them under most circumstances, but his sword was ill-equipped to battle the heavily armored goliaths. Gryph poured mana into his spear and rushed to aid the xydai, just as the metal titan brought the whirring blade down upon the adjudi
cator.

  Ovrym parried the attack and dove aside. A trickle of blood dripped down his sword arm where he’d been less successful on a previous parry and despite Myrthendir’s Boon, Gryph realized his friend wasn’t moving as quickly as normal.

  “Ovrym, down,” Gryph yelled as the goliath took aim with its flame cannon. Without hesitation the xydai threw himself aside, giving Gryph a clear line of attack. Gryph activated his Impale Perk and the spear’s own Penetrating Strike ability as he thrust his adamantine spear tip into the fiery orange nozzle.

  The spear tip sunk in nearly a foot dealing incredible damage to the goliath’s arm. The automaton stumbled back as the torrent of magical fire tried to force itself past the lodged spear. The shaft vibrated in Gryph’s grasp as he struggled to hold on. Heat flared around the spear and up the shaft. Gryph grimaced in pain as the metal cooked his hands. His health bar flared and then a gout of flame pulsed from the nozzle and flowed over Gryph. He screamed in pain and his health dropped further. He pushed with all his strength and the spear lodged itself deeper inside the goliath’s arm. The flames winked out and Gryph’s health stopped dropping.

  The metal of the creature’s arm turned orange and then red and then white-hot as the backdraft of fire built up inside the flamethrower’s housing. Then an explosion tossed Gryph backwards as whatever fuel powering the jet of flame exploded.

  Shards of the white-hot metal bit into Gryph like the bite of dozens of fire ants and his health sunk further. His head smacked hard against the stone wall and his vision turned warbly. Through the haze of pain, a distant part of his mind suspected he had a concussion. He tried to stand but toppled to his knees with all the grace of a drunk man during an earthquake.

  Suddenly Ovrym was there forcing a red health potion down his throat. “Get up,” the xydai mumbled through the ringing in Gryph’s ears. As the potion did its work, Gryph realized that Ovrym had been yelling. Ovrym helped him to his feet and handed him his spear. Gryph gave him a goofy grin of thanks.

  “That’s one way to do it,” the xydai said with a grin and then walked over to the crippled goliath. Its arm had burst apart from the force of the explosion and most of its chest plate was shorn off. It tried to bring its bladed arm up, but the servos that allowed the beast to move were too bent or melted.

  Ovrym grabbed the lame arm and held it at bay as he slid his sword into the exposed chest cavity towards a glowing red sphere. The sphere was made up of interlocking rings of bronze colored metal that spun around a central core.

  Ovrym pushed the blade between the rings, arresting their motion to a grinding halt and then shoved deeper into the crimson core. Gryph watched as blue mana flowed up the blade and into Ovrym’s body. Bleed metal was an incredibly rare variety of elementum from the Outer Realms, found in comets, asteroids, and meteorites that had passed through a magical null zone known as the Bleed. Weapons and armor made from the fantastic metal absorbed magical energy. Gryph watched as the xydai recharged his mana pool like an Earthling would a car battery.

  I have to get me one of those, Gryph thought and turned his attention back to the battle.

  Myrthendir bore several shallow wounds, but he avoided a clumsy swing of the goliath’s bladed arm and smashed his energy mace into the mechanical beast’s side with a crunch of metal. Despite the force behind the blow, he moved the weapon with ease. Gryph suspected the glowing sphere must have somehow added mass to the elf’s attacks while adding no real weight. The automaton’s flame-throwing arm hung limply at the creature’s side. It seemed to Gryph that the Prince Regent was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  Gryph turned to the gnomes. Tifala’s battle wasn’t going quite as well. The vine spell had all but failed, and the goliath’s legs ripped apart the few remaining vines. At some point, she’d switched from Water Blast to Life Bolt, and blasts of golden light exploded across the bronze beast’s armor. She backed away slowly as the beast came forward two steps and fell back one with each blast.

  Wick wasn’t doing much better. Xeg was gone, but the imp had torn one of the goliath’s eyes from its head. The good news was that losing half its vision was something the machine couldn’t adjust to. It continued to blast away with both arms but rarely came anywhere near Wick. The bad news was that apart from the missing eye and several dents and scratches on the its head, likely from where it punched itself trying to dislodge the imp, the goliath was undamaged. The rotten cherry on top of the crappy situation was that Wick was slowing down. He only had a few scrapes and nicks, most likely from diving and rolling away from the goliath’s attacks, but he was not landing any blows and he looked exhausted. Sooner than later his stamina would bottom out and then the mechanical monster would have him, no matter how slow it was.

  “Ovrym help Tifala, I’ve got Wick’s back.” The xydai nodded and before he turned away Gryph saw a purple halo of energy wrap itself around the adjudicator’s blade.

  Gryph ran towards Wick. He spun his spear and powered the weapon up and got Wick’s attention. The gnome dodged another clumsy blow as he looked to Gryph. Gryph twirled his finger in a clockwise manner, hoping the gnome understood his meaning. The gnome nodded and then barely ducked under a saw arm attack.

  Gryph watched as the gnome moved clockwise, slowly drawing the goliath after him and exposing its flank to Gryph’s attack. Gryph’s eyes scanned the beast as he ran towards it. The thick metal plating on its back would surely block any attack, but there was a weak spot where the torso met the legs. Thick metal plates hung down from the automaton’s back like the tails of a tuxedo, but as the construct moved it revealed a space between the protective plates.

  Gryph thrust his spear into the gap between the thick armor and once again unleashed Penetrating Strike and Impale. It awarded Gryph a Critical Hit and he watched as more than half the automaton’s health dropped in an instant. The thing fell forward onto its knees with a thunderous boom, servos squealing and golden oil flowing from the wound like blood.

  The creature was in serious trouble, but not yet down for the count as its arms spun back and down in a motion that no flesh and blood arm could have managed. The goliath’s fist pummeled down onto Gryph’s shoulder and he fell to his knees, almost losing his grip on the spear. He twisted and pushed harder taking more of the creature’s health. Despite that, it got to its feet again.

  “I can’t hold it,” Gryph said as it pointed its flame-throwing arm at Wick again. The exhausted gnome slipped in the ever-widening pool of golden oil flowing from the bronze juggernaut, and his head hit the floor hard, dazing him.

  Gryph knew he had only seconds before Wick would become a gnome kebab and his brain scrambled for some way to save his friend. Old training came back, and he found clarity. A dozen options flashed through his mind and then he saw the blue glint of the Icon set into the shaft of his spear and he smiled. He pushed the spear deeper under the armor on the automaton’s back, pushing until he felt it pass between the spinning rings of the machine’s dynamo core.

  While the goliath did not seem self-aware in the traditional sense, it knew a mortal threat when it had impaled it in the back. Its head spun 180 degrees to look at Gryph with its one malevolent eye. Its mouth opened and then it exhaled a blast of superheated steam into Gryph’s face. Gryph screamed in agony as the skin of his face, neck and arms blistered and his health dropped by a quarter, but he did not let go of his spear, nor did the pain prevent him from unleashing his own attack.

  Gryph triggered Yrriel’s Bite as the spear tip pierced the delicate wiring of the glowing dynamo’s core. The Bite didn’t do nearly as much damage as Yrriel’s Maelstrom, but he'd slammed his spear into what he guessed amounted to the mechanical beast’s brain. The goliath shook and spasmed under the electrical assault looking for all the world like a gigantic bronze man being tased.

  The goliath wasn’t dead, but the shock to its central core seemed to have stunned it. Gryph just hoped it wouldn’t recover before the ten-second cooldown on the weapon’s ability passed. />
  He looked up to see Wick double fisting a health and a stamina potion. “Go help the others. I’ve got this,” Gryph told him and the rejuvenated gnome nodded and rushed towards his fellows. Below him, the goliath stirred as its core rebooted. It shuddered as it tried to get up, but Gryph thrust the spear deeper, spearing the construct like a worm on a fishhook. His heartbeat mirrored the cooldown clock, and when it thumped to zero, he sent another surge of electricity into the monster. It took nearly a minute, but the method finally spelled the goliath’s doom. He heard a sound like the power down cycle of an ancient desktop computer and the core went dark. The goliath was defeated.

  He turned towards the others just in time to see the goliath Myrthendir was battling fall to its knees. Smoke and steam poured from cracks in its armor and a metal-on-metal grinding rumbled through the room as it struggled to stand. The Prince Regent held his energy mace in both hands and took a home run quality swing. The phantom spikes of the glowing sphere of energy crunched the automaton’s neck and tore its head from its shoulders. The head bounced across the floor as the red light of life illuminating its ruby eyes faded and died. Steam gushed from the beast’s neck and then the body fell forward and hit the ground with a tremendous crash.

  The others were faring just as well and Gryph took a much-needed breather as he watched. Tifala had cast another vine-based spell and had the machine’s left arm tangled. Some kind of crimson colored bands erupted from Wick’s hands and wrapped themselves around the dwarven war machine’s right arm looking for all the world like a massive, glowing Christmas ribbon. Tifala yelled and both gnomes magically tugged on the bonds, stretching the goliath’s arms wide and giving Ovrym a clear line of attack.