Scourge of Souls: The Realms Book Four: (An Epic LitRPG Series)

by C. M. Carney

  His hand charred as metal that looked cool and solid passed through his palm. His health dropped 200 points in mere moments and kept dropping. He rushed to the nearest barrel of water and shoved his hand inside. The burning stopped, but the pain did not abate. He kept his hand in the barrel and watched as the ripples on the water’s surface slowed. Staring back at him was a bearded face that was both familiar and unnerving. He jumped back heart thundering in his chest. A moment later he eased forward and looked again. The same face stared back, and he realized why it was so familiar. It was his face. It was the face of the last Stone King.

  Gryph looked down at his body and realized it was that of a heavily muscled dwarf warrior. “So, it is true. I was the last Stone King.” The shock of his one time, and current, identity distracted him for mere moments before the pain in his hand brought him back.

  He opened his palm and his worst fears bore fruit. Branded into the palm of his hand was a perfect copy of the face from the spectral belt buckle. Over the next several minutes he cast Minor Healing again and again, eventually reaching full health, but the brand remained.

  “Well shit,” Gryph muttered to himself and turned away from the dwarf soul. He looked to his left and to his right. Each direction bore an endless line of forges worked by an endless number of dwarf ascendant souls. Not having any better ideas, Gryph turned right and walked.

  He walked for hours with no change in scenery and stopped to rest, leaning against one of the massive pillars that disappeared into the layer of smoke high above. He closed his eyes for what he told himself would be just long enough to let his stinging eyes recover and then he was fast asleep.

  Sometime later he felt a rough kick to his foot and looked up to see a dwarf looking down upon him. Unlike the others he’d encountered in this otherworldly forge, this one was not only solid, but was eyeballing him with disappointment.

  “Ye plan on sleeping all damn day boyo? Goin’ tae give me a bad reputation if ye do.”

  “Um,” Gryph ummed. “Who are you?”

  “Dern it, ye done forgot me already? Well crud. I’m Regveld. Think of me as yer guide and mentor while yer here in the Great Forge.”

  “Good to meet you Regveld. I’m…”

  “I know who ye be yer damn jackanapes. Don’t ye think I’d recognize me own son.”

  “Ummm, what?”

  “Is that all ye younglings do these days? Ummm?” Regveld mocked. “Makes me glad I stayed here. I was yer pappy back when yer were Mahlgriim, the last Stone King. Ye don’t remember?”

  Gryph gave Regveld a confused look and opened his mouth.

  “If ye say Umm one more time lad I’ll crack ye upside yer thick skull.”

  “I’m sorry, I only have vague memories of that life. My Soul Reverie hinted that I’ve lived quite a few lives since then.”

  “Soul Reverie? That be the fancy elf way of sleeping ain’t it? No wonder Krovoor has such a stick up his bum over ye becoming the new Stone King.”

  “I’m not looking to be a king. I don’t even want to be a lord.”

  “Dinnae wanna be a king? What is wrong with ye boy?”

  “On Earth, where I come from, most kings are despots who lord themselves over others.”

  “Earth? What kinda name is that? Never heard of it. Dinnae have many dwarves there I’m guessing?”

  “No, no they do not. And it’s a ways from here.”

  “Hurm, well that dinnae matter much, what does is that ye be here now. I get yer point about kings and lords laddie, I really dae. I was a king myself ye know. But sometimes ye gotta stand tall and dae what is right for the people ye love. And sometimes that be the very last thing ye want tae dae.”

  “I know. That’s why I accepted Krovoor’s challenge. His way would legitimize hate and people will die.”

  “Krovoor is a bald cocked fool is what he be. Rancid ponce be a poor excuse for a dwarf.”

  Regveld’s harsh words shocked Gryph, but he laughed. “Well, he is an asshole, but I’ll have to take your word on his masculine … failings.”

  “HAAA!,” Regveld laughed and smacked Gryph hard on the back. “Well, get off yer arse, there’s lotsa work tae be done.” With that Regveld stomped away.

  “Okay then,” Gryph said and followed with all the grace of a toddler who’d partaken in too much teething pain whiskey. He had to double time the speed of his stumpy legs to catch up and wondered why it had taken him so long to realize he’d become stuck in a dwarf body. Add it to the list of weird experiences in the Realms, he thought. “So, what is this place?”

  Regveld gave him a sideways stink eye that made Gryph want to crawl into bed and hide. The older dwarf sputtered and harrumphed and grumbled, but finally answered. “This is the Great Forge. It is where the souls of we dwarves come after we pass through the Gray Veils. Well some of us. There be bastards who betray every tenet of goodness and brotherhood who tumble intae the Abyss or elsewhere.” His voice lowered and took on a conspiratorial tone. “I would nae mention them though, the folks here dinnae like talkin’ ‘bout them lost souls.”

  “The folks here?”

  “There are several categories. Them ghostly fellas ye tried talkin’ with be souls awaitin’ a return tae the mortal realm. They are by far the most numerous. They got one focus while they are here, work at the skill they hope tae master in the next life. Dinnae waste yer time chattin’ them up, they dinnae talk much. Then there be folks like me, souls who’ve had enough of mortal life and wish tae expand our consciousness beyond mortal ken. I’m here for the long haul, working towards becoming one of the Long Beards. They be the third type and are the elder ancestors’ we dwarves venerate.”

  “I’m here to see them,” Gryph said.

  “Yes I know laddie, Krovoor challenged you tae the Judgement of the Long Beards.” Regveld gave Gryph an up and down look. “Ye ain’t ready for that yet. That’s why I be here. I’m here tae teach ye tae be a dwarf again, like I did when ye was still crappin’ in yer britches.”

  “Lovely.”

  “No, it was nae. Ye were a dwarf lad, chock full of mushrooms and goat’s milk. Lordy what a foul stench that. So, let’s not be repeatin’ that noxious part of our lives.”

  “Can we get on with this?”

  “Right, sorry laddie. I’m just so happy tae see ye.” Regveld pulled Gryph into a bear hug and it was all Gryph could do to breathe through the dwarf’s brutal strength.

  “I’m happy to see you too,” Gryph grunted and was surprised that he was. He still didn’t quite understand the whole past lives, immortal soul concept, but he felt a definite connection to Regveld, like a déjà vu memory of a place you’ve never been, but somehow feels familiar.

  After a few moments Regveld let go, wiped his nose and stomped off. “Come on laddie, we ain’t got time tae be wastin’.”

  12

  Regveld led him through a shifting maze of corridors until they arrived at an ancient mine. He handed Gryph a pickaxe and walked into the tunnel.

  “The first skill all dwarves learn is mining. The high born and the low all delve in the depths under the mountains seeking fortune for them and their clan. It be hard work. Dwarf work. I know ye have spent the last many lives as prancing elves and sun bathing humans, so this will all feel new tae ye, but dinnae worry, I’ll get ye bustin’ yer hump and crackin’ ore in no time flat.”

  And he did. Over the next several hours, or was it days or even weeks, Gryph busted his hump and learned how to mine. It was back-breaking work, but somehow satisfying. On Earth working with your hands had always been a salve for the soul. The same was true here in the Realms with skill advancements as an added bonus.

  You have learned the skill MINING.

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  You have learned how to delve into the depths of the earth to uncover metals, gems and other valuables to craft a wide variety of useful items and weapons.

  Each level of mining increases the output from any vein
of ore by 1%, provides a 0.5% chance to find valuable gems and a 0.25% chance of finding rare metals.

  “Ye can now call yourself a true dwarf. Ye make yer pappy proud.”

  Gryph grinned at the advancement and chuckled at the commentary on the prompt so clearly left by Regveld. Guess you’re not the only skill commentator in the Realms Lex. Where are ya buddy? As the two men left the mine, Gryph smacked the older dwarf hard on the shoulder. “Thanks pops.”

  Regveld grinned at him. “Ye learn real quick kiddo. Is it be sumthin’ ta dae with that fancy Lore skill of yours?”

  Gryph stumbled. Just how much did his past life ghost dad know about him. “Um?”

  “By Durgath’s nutsack, there ye go with the umming again. This be one of the Higher Realms laddie, we already know all there is tae know about ye?”

  Gryph’s foot caught on a rock and his face would have made friends with the ground had Regveld not caught him.

  “Relax laddie. I truly am here tae help ye. Don’t relax too much though, yer trainin’ has just begun.” Regveld laughed at Gryph’s crestfallen expression and marched down another passage, one filled with heat and noise.

  The next round of training was Smelting, the process that took base ore and turned it into ingots of refined metal useful in crafting. During the mining training, Gryph knew he’d found veins of iron, copper, silver, nickel, gold, platinum, mithril, adamantine, spectral iron, black mithril and a variety of gemstones. He’d not thought much about their differences or properties while mining. After all the process of hack-hack, dig-dig, was the same regardless of what type of metal was being mined.

  Smelting however was a far different skill. It involved tossing the raw ore into a blast furnace and extracting the quality ore while burning off or leaving behind the slag that was not useful. Then they poured molten metal into ingot shaped molds.

  It was brutally hot and dangerous work, but as with mining, Gryph’s dedication paid off.

  You have learned the skill SMELTING.

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  You have learned how to turn raw ore into shining metal ingots used to craft wondrous weapons, armor and items.

  Each level of Smelting increases the yield of smelted ore by 1% and gives a 0.5% chance to upgrade any ore to the pure designation. Pure metals are 25% stronger than their normal counterparts.

  “My will ye look at them shiny ingots. Me heart is all aflutter with pride.”

  Despite being dead tired Gryph had to smile at the praise. Regveld walked up to him and tossed him an ingot of green metal. “Elementum?” Gryph asked.

  “Pah, this nae be none of that fancy sky metal. This be pure dwarf made spectral adamant lad. A mixture of pure adamant and spectral iron. Only exists here, and it’s a ways better than yer fancy elementum, trust me. It’ll slice and dice ghostly creatures and corporeal beings. Enhances a whole slew of skills as well. Now give it here.”

  “Wait, it’s not mine?”

  “O’ ye greedy lout, spectral adamant is one of the rarest metals in all the Realms. Ye need to earn it boy.”

  “So, in your world the last several … has it been days or weeks or months?”

  Regveld shrugged. “Dinnae know. Dinnae care. Time be a bit quirked up here.”

  Gryph sighed heavily. “Regardless, wasn’t all that work earning it?”

  “Oh no laddie. Yer payment was the knowledge ye learned. Dinnae be getting’ all whiny like them surface knobs.”

  “So, you’ve never heard the expression a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work?”

  “Nope, no dwarf ever said such nonsense. Now come on, we have more work tae do.”

  “By we, you mean me.”

  “Yup,” Regveld said with a grin and walked down another passage.

  The first thing Gryph noticed as they circled deeper into the earth was how cool these caves were. Then a familiar smell filled his nostrils, and he grinned. “This is a brewery?”

  A joyous smile split Regveld’s face. “How dae ye know that laddie? Brewed some fine ales in your day?”

  “Perhaps fine would not be the word, but the beers I brewed knocked my platoon mates on their asses.”

  “Well then, ye will have a leg up. This will be fun then.” They rounded the corner to reveal a room filled with massive brew kettles, huge stone fermenting vessels and endless rows of stoppered casks. Gryph didn’t wait for an invitation and just brewed. His skill brought a tear to Regveld’s eye.

  “Ye do be a dwarf. I’ve never been so proud in all me long years.” Regveld turned and walked away, shaking his head and tossing his hands above his head in an attempt to tame his emotions.

  Gryph just laughed and got back to work. After his first batch another prompt filled his vision.

  You have learned the skill BREWING.

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  You have learned how to make beer.

  Each level of Brewing increases the quality of your brews by 1% and the maximum alcohol by 0.25%.

  “Ye be a true dwarf my boy. Cannae wait tae get blotto.”

  “So, we going to get drunk?” Gryph asked with a hopeful grin.

  “Patience me boy. We need tae let it age, and ye have much more work tae do.” Regveld guffawed at Gryph’s sad expression. “Dinnae worry boy. We dwarves party harder than any of them other wuss sack races, ‘cept maybe the orcs. Them bastards be crazy.” He got a serious look on his face. “If ye wanna keep yer honor, never drink with an orc. They have, how should I say it politely, fluid needs when it comes tae lovemaking. Not only do they nae care where they stick it, they dinnae be fans of the word no.”

  “Okay then. So that’s a no to the beer?” Gryph asked, pushing his thoughts away from visions of an orc filled multi-species orgy.

  Regveld chortled and pointed Gryph down another passage. “The real work is about to begin.”

  “Real work?” Gryph asked in alarm, but then rushed after Regveld.

  The real work turned out to be Smithing. He’d thought Smelting was hard, hot work, but it was like a nice spa day compared to the exertion, timing and skill required to craft weapons and armor. His stamina bottomed out so many times he nearly puked on his boots. After what seemed an eternity he received a few new prompts.

  You have learned the skill SMITHING (ARMOR).

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  With strength and constitution, you’ve learned how to take ingots of metal, strips of leather and jewels of all kinds and craft exquisite armor. You are now a dwarf, clad in steel and ready for battle.

  Each level of Smithing (Armor) increases the AC Bonus of any armor you craft by 1.

  “Will ye look at that, ye made yerself a suit of armor. Now let’s see if ye can wear it.”

  You have learned the skill SMITHING (WEAPONS).

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  With strength and constitution, you’ve learned how to take ingots of metal, strips of leather and jewels of all kinds and craft exquisite weapons. You are now ready to crack skulls and splinter bones.

  Each level of Smithing (Weapons) increases the Base Damage of any weapon you craft by 1%.

  “Aw ye made a hammer me boy. Me heart bursts with joy. Let’s go smash some shite.”

  And they did, smash some shit.

  “The hammer is the traditional weapon of the dwarves. Sure some of us use axes and, some of us use swords, but every dwarf babe hefts a hammer as soon as they can waddle about without aid. If ye want yer bearded brothers and stout sisters tae accept ye as one of their own, ye will need to be able tae swing one about without hittin’ yerself in the jumblies.”

  While smashing shit, Regveld also made Gryph wear the heavy plate armor so favored by the dwarves. It felt ungainly and awkward to Gryph, but after many hours of smashing and being smashed, he got the hang of both weapon and armor.

  You have learned the skill BLUNT WEAPONS.

  L
evel(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  You have proven your skill with Blunt Weapons. These weapons include hammers, maces, morning stars and any other weapons designed to beat things to a pulp.

  To Hit Bonus: +20%. Damage Bonus: +20%. Attack Speed: + 50%.

  “Now take heed, hammers are no wussy pointy weapons. Be careful who ye smash. Unless they be goblins, then smash away.”

  You have learned the skill HEAVY ARMOR.

  Level(s): 1-10 - Tier: - Base - Skill Type: Active

  You have proven your skill with Heavy Armor. You are now a tank.

  Each level of Heavy Armor increases the AC Bonus of any Heavy Armor you wear by 3%.

  Note: Heavy Armor interferes with the flow of Mana through the body. The following effects may occur.

  • There is a 25% chance that any spell cast while wearing Heavy Armor will fail. Failed spells create a Spell Backlash which inflicts one point per mana damage to the caster AND places a Casting Debuff on the wearer that makes all casting impossible for two minutes. Each level of Heavy Armor skill reduces the chance of a Spell Backlash by 0.25% and the duration of the Casting Debuff by 1 second.

  • All spells cast while wearing Heavy Armor cost 50% more Mana to cast. Each level of Heavy Armor skill reduces this penalty by 0.5%.

  “The dwarf way is the heavy armor way. Be strong. Be heavy. Be impossible tae knock over.”

  “Damn, no wonder casters don’t wear plate mail,” Gryph grumbled.

  “Ha, yeah, those Debuffs are beauts,” Regveld snorted. “My guess is it’s the Realms way of evening the odds. Imagine a dwarf fire mage wearing adamantine plate. Nobody could take that bastard down.”