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

by C. M. Carney

Unknown

  Unknown

  Unknown

  “What?” Aluran’s eyes went wide. Analyze had given him nothing, which was impossible. He was a level 83 Master of the skill, and even if Gryph somehow had attained a higher level, which was unlikely, Analyze would have given him something.

  An odd chortle that sounded like a man laughing for the very first time bubbled from Gryph’s broken lips. He swallowed hard and spoke. “He said you were arrogant and fearful. He said it was your weakness.”

  “Who?” Aluran demanded. “Who spoke these lies? Who filled your mind with such heresy?” The High God pulled his fist back and drove it hard into the man’s solar plexus. It would cause little damage, but considerable pain.

  Gryph hacked and coughed, desperately drawing oxygen back into his lungs. Then he started to laugh again. “You do not yet understand your error, do you?” He grinned for a moment, and then a look of pain contorted his face and he began to hack and wheeze. “You still think I am Gryph.” The man heaved again, hung his head and spat something up that clattered to the floor at their feet.

  The sound drew the High God’s gaze and he stared at the gray, mucus covered stone in recognition. His eyes snapped back up and he wrenched the man’s head. Looking back at him was not the player Gryph, but the Scourge, the deep pools of silver and black that had been the Scourge’s eyes were now a piercing, pale blue.

  “Who are you? What have you done to the Scourge?”

  The man that was not the Scourge laughed. “He also told me that you could not abide mystery you could not unravel, so I do not believe I will answer your questions.”

  “Who is this he?”

  “Is it not obvious?”

  “Gryph,” Aluran said in a low voice boiling with menace. That menace turned to fear. “Where is he?”

  The Scourge stared at him through his one good eye and laughed again, this time loudly. The unnatural laughter flowed up the tunnels and then back again, mocking the High God with each echo.

  “I can see your fear,” the man wearing the body of the Scourge said with a smile.

  Aluran roared and brought both hands up to the bloodied man’s neck, lifted him from the ground and squeezed. The Scourge clawed at the High God’s vice-like grip, futilely fighting for the last moments of his life. Aluran watched the man’s eyes fill with fear and he spoke in a hissing whisper. “You are the one who knows fear, not I.” A small smile crossed the Scourge’s lips and both men knew Aluran was lying.

  In a rage, Aluran snapped the Scourge’s neck and let his body fall to the ground. He was manic, wide-eyed and forced himself to calm. I am The High God and I do not fear.

  It was then that he realized where Gryph was and he felt fear. Ferrancia. Aluran ran up the incline and activated his Lightning Form perk for the third time in less than an hour. It was his last daily use, but he needed to get to Ferrancia now.

  The High God transformed into living lightning and flashed upwards, raging like a storm towards the top of the Crag.

  68

  A half an hour earlier the group huddled in a storeroom at the end of the hall facing Ferrancia’s quarters. Milly had been true to her word. She showed them how to move unseen through the service tunnels, given them the schedule and routes of the guard patrols and even granted them access to the Port Circles to secure their exit. Now, Lex peered through a peephole the servants used to ensure they were not in the hallways when their betters were using them.

  “This entire tower is a monument to the mistreatment of the lower classes by the rich and powerful,” Lex grumbled.

  “Since when do you care about the plight of the masses?” Vonn asked in a low voice.

  “I told you, I don’t like bullies,” Lex whispered and returned his gaze to the peephole, staring at the two mountainous men standing guard at Ferrancia’s door. Both men were titans of steel and might, each nearly as tall as Errat, but armed and armored like tanks. Each bore a shining tower shield and carried a large-headed mace riddled with spikes. Lex Analyzed them and told his fellows what they faced.

  PALADIN OF THE HIGH GOD – Level: 52.

  Health

  Stamina

  Mana

  Spirit

  2,412

  3,212

  863

  2,156

  Paladins are holy warrior-priests who have dedicated their lives and their martial might to the service of one of the gods. Those who serve the High God Aluran are among the most feared warriors on all Korynn. They are zealots in their priestly devotion and command the power of the High God’s holy light. Few beings in the Realms can stand up to them long.

  Strengths

  Immunities

  Weaknesses

  Holy Wrath.

  50% Resistance to all Spheres of Magic

  None

  “Well, they sound fun,” Vonn said.

  Lex took his eye away from the peephole and looked to the door on the opposite wall. “He’s taking too long.”

  “He is taking as much time as the task requires,” Ovrym said, his eye glued to another peephole, this one in the only door to the room. “You need to learn patience.”

  “Yeah, not sure that’s really my thing.”

  “As a Lexicon I would think learning would be your thing,” Vonn responded.

  Lex scowled at the half-elf. “I meant patience, you dick, and you knew that.”

  “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

  “Obviously, being a dick is your thing.” Vonn ignored the comment earning a scowl from Lex. The silence hung heavy, and the NPC discovered he was worried. He couldn’t say exactly why, it was just a tickle at the edge of his perception. “I’m not sure I like this plan.”

  “What is not to like friend Lex?” Errat asked.

  “Well, it’s a shitty plan with one good part. The good part is where I’m Deputy Commander of Gryph’s Gang, the bad is all the rest. For starters, how can we be sure we’ll be able to pull all the guards away. Isn’t that kinda obvious distraction taught on day one of evil guard training academy?”

  “You do your part and let Gryph and Bishop do theirs’,” Ovrym said. “And we’re not calling it Gryph’s Gang.”

  “Agreed,” Vonn said. “That name is horrible. Sounds like something a ten-year-old made up.”

  “Errat likes Gryph’s Buddies.”

  “Hmm,” Lex thought, rubbing his chin. “That’s not too bad, though it reminds me of one of those sick kid charities. You know the kind where Gryph takes a dying kid to a baseball game. Not sure it fits the here and now.”

  “Shut up,” Ovrym whispered harshly. “He is returning.” The xydai eased the door open and Gryph slipped inside.

  “How’d it go?” Lex asked.

  “The Mimic Stone worked as expected,” Gryph responded. “Bishop should begin his infiltration shortly.”

  “I gotta say man, I’m surprised you let Bishop take point on this,” Lex said. “Doesn’t seem to mesh with that alpha male, ‘I gotta be in charge and you’re gonna do what I say cuz I’m Gryph’ thing you got going.”

  “Lex, eye to the peephole please,” Gryph said.

  “Oh right, sorry.” Lex turned and peered through the peephole. His stomach rumbled from nervousness, or maybe it was hunger. A moment later, Milly turned the corner carrying a covered silver tray towards the door to Ferrancia’s chambers.

  “There he is,” Lex whispered. “Man, its gotta feel so weird being that short.”

  “Figured you’d be used to it by now,” Vonn said, earning a backward flicked middle finger from Lex.

  The elderly woman stopped as the guards lifted the cover and examined the food. Lex couldn’t see the woman’s face, but he swore her shoulders grew more tense. “Easy buddy. Stay calm, control those emotions.”

  “He’s an archon of order,” Ovrym said. “Unlike you, he is not a slave to his feelings.”

  “Well he looks tense, and that ain’t good. These type of guys can smell that shit a mile away.” Lex pressed
his eye so intensely to the peephole he felt the beginnings of a headache brewing. He sighed as the paladins opened the door and let Bishop pass. “Okay, he’s in.” Lex turned and faced Gryph.

  “We must trust in the plan,” Gryph said. “We attack in two minutes. Our mission is to clear a path for Brynn. If we cannot kill the guards quickly, then we retreat and draw them with us before any reinforcements can arrive. Our priority is getting Brynn to the Port Gate. Everyone understand?”

  Nods flowed around the room, and everyone quietly prepped weapons and buffs. Two minutes to the second later, they exited the room and launched their assault.

  *****

  Around the same time as Lex was waxing philosophical about the plight of the underclass Gryph and Bishop were one floor below in an under-used storage closet. They had five minutes before the guards returned, more than enough to complete their part of the plan.

  “Why did you lie to the others about your true plan?” Bishop asked.

  “Because none of them would have let me do it, especially Lex.”

  “That is logical. His often-repeated mantra ‘I must protect Gryph’ would conflict with a potential suicide mission.”

  A look of guilt crossed Gryph’s face. “You’re taking a greater risk than I am. If, when, Aluran comes, he will go after you first. Are you sure you want to do this?” Gryph still found it unnerving that this intelligent, introspective being now wore the body of the murderous Scourge.

  Bishop smiled. “You mortals are fascinated with the concept of free will. It is a curious oddity. I do this because it is logical, and because I now consider you a colleague.” The archon extended his hand and Gryph shook it. “Please do not concern yourself with my wellbeing. The worst Aluran can do is kill me. I am no player who can be bound to a spawn point. I am no mortal with one existence. I am an archon of order, and no matter what happens to this body, my consciousness will return from the Realm of Order to be remade by the tower.”

  “So, no big whoop then,” Gryph said with a light chuckle.

  “As you say, no big whoop.”

  “Regardless, thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  Gryph handed Milly’s Port Circle Key to Bishop and removed the two Mimic Stones from his bag. One was shimmering white and already contained the essence derived from the blood Milly had given them earlier. The other was a dull gray, empty and ready for priming. Gryph pulled his dagger from his sheath and drew it across his palm. He let the blood well for several seconds and then laid the empty Mimic Stone in the small pool gathering in his palm. The stone drank in his blood, and a moment later it shone white. Gryph handed the newly charged stone to Bishop and kept Milly’s for himself.

  “I hope that this is not the last time I see you.” Bishop said.

  “Same here.”

  They both swallowed their stone, and a few moments later their new roles were complete, and the two men went their separate ways. Gryph watched himself walk around the corner, unnerved by the power of the Mimic Stones.

  Gryph walked to the Port Circle. A moment later the platinum ring on the floor illuminated and Milly appeared, bearing Ferrancia’s dinner. She looked Gryph up and down.

  “Do I really look that old?” Milly asked with a smirk but was otherwise unfazed by seeing her double.

  “Thank you for this.”

  “I told you already, I’m not doing it for you.” Then she smiled again. “But you’re welcome.”

  “Are you ready to run? Once Aluran learns of your involvement, he will come for you.”

  Milly patted a worn old bag slung over her shoulder. “I’ve got everything I need right here”

  “You sure I can’t talk you into coming back with us? We could use someone with your spunk.”

  “My place is elsewhere, but thank you, I can take care of myself.” She reached over and touched Gryph warmly on the face. “Now go get our girl.” She turned and stepped back into the Port Circle. A moment later she was gone.

  69

  Gryph walked slowly towards the two massive paladins, and told himself that he, that Milly, had done this same walk a dozen times. This is the easy part. He stopped and looked at the paladins, sure they sensed the nervousness leaking through his smile.

  “I have Her Eminence's dinner,” he said, repeating the simple phrase Milly had taught him. The nearest paladin scowled down on him for several long seconds, but Gryph did not hold his gaze long before lowering his eyes and allowing a small, nervous smile to cross his lips.

  “Show them you fear them, that you understand their superiority,” Milly had told him. “After all, they are the High God's chosen. The best of the best. Show them that respect and leave killing them to your friends.”

  The paladin lifted the cover from the tray and examined the meal. Gryph knew he was inspecting the food and drink for poison, hidden magic or anything else that could threaten the goddess beyond the door. Gryph’s eyes went to the vase of flowers and bamboo and he willed the paladin’s gaze to pass over the smooth length of white wood hidden among the stems and stalks.

  Gryph had wanted to hide the weapon under his clothes, but Milly had ensured him that the paladin’s Perception would see it and assume anything hidden was a threat. “So we put it right under their pompous noses,” she said with a sly smile.

  Gryph drew on old training and forced his heart rate to settle. The paladin let his gaze flow over the tray one last time and then replaced the cover. His compatriot eased the door open just enough for Gryph to slip through.

  “Lower your head as you enter. You need to show the proper respect. They will be watching. Do not look at the goddess until she speaks to you.”

  Gryph did as Milly had commanded and kept his eyes on his feet as he entered the room. He stepped in several paces and then waited. Denied his sight, Gryph focussed his attention on his other senses. A cool breeze blew through the room, and he could hear the winds flow through the high mountains that surrounded the Crag. Despite the elevation, the room was a pleasant temperature, warmed by a large fireplace. The smell of crackling apple wood and lilac brought a surge of memories the way only smell can.

  In an instant Gryph was at the house on Bow Lake, the crackling of apple wood in the fire pit and the first spring flowering of his mother’s lilac bushes filling his nostrils. They were among Brynn’s favorite scents, and their presence here, now, made Gryph’s heart nearly break with joy. She is still in there.

  Gryph pushed down his desperate desire to look, to see his sister, but he knew if Ferrancia felt threatened, his mission to save Brynn would fail. Heartbeats thundered as the seconds past and finally the goddess addressed him.

  “Good evening Milly, you can place my tray on the table. I am not ready to eat just yet.”

  Gryph dipped into a curtsey, hoping Ferrancia did not see his clumsiness. Then he raised his gaze and saw her. She was tall and regal. While she did not look like Brynn, she felt like her. His heart thudded in his chest and a part of him, the part that held her the day their mother had died, wanted to rush to her. The goddess gave him an odd smile and Gryph pulled his gaze away.

  “Is everything alright Milly?”

  “Yes, my apologies Your Eminence. It's just… you reminded me of someone right now.” He knew it was risky becoming personal with the goddess but suspected the truth within the lie would help sell the story.

  “Somebody special?” Ferrancia asked with a slight hint of warmth.

  “Yes, Your Eminence. I am sorry if that offends.”

  “It does not. It gladdens me that I can engender such feelings in you, despite my divinity.” Her eyes went to the tray. “You may place the tray down.”

  "Yes, of course," Gryph said with a nervous start and rushed to place the tray down. He adjusted the place setting and rearranged the flowers in the vase, scowling like a nitpicky florist as he removed the length of white wood. He slipped it into the pocket of his apron and stood rigid.

  “Sit with me for a time,” the godd
ess said, extending a hand to a pair of chairs. Gryph feigned reservation and embarrassment, but the goddess insisted. “It gets very lonely here, and I could use somebody to talk to.”

  Gryph smoothed his clothes and sat. He raised his eyes to the goddess once again and smiled nervously. His hand eased down to his side, gripping the length of wood. He knew he’d only get one shot. If he missed, Ferrancia would be on him instantly.

  The goddess stared at him for a long moment before speaking again. “Tell me Milly, do you have a family?”

  The question surprised Gryph, who opened his mouth and then closed it again, while he struggled with how to answer. Then he looked her right in the eyes and opened his mouth to answer.

  The words never passed his lips, for at that moment a thunderous voice roared into the room, seeming to come from the walls themselves. “YOUR EMINENCE, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. THE DOORS ARE SECURED. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. THE HIGH GOD HAS BEEN ALERTED AND IS ON HIS WAY.”

  The sounds of battle rose from the other side of the door. Ferrancia jumped up, and with a flick of her hand the gown she’d been wearing disappeared, replaced by a suit of shimmering pale-blue chain mail. A bow appeared on her back and she drew a short sword from her waist.

  “Get behind me,” she yelled to Gryph.

  Gryph grabbed the poker from the fire and stood next to the goddess. “No, Your Eminence, I am standing by your side.” The goddess eyes snapped to him, first in a rage at the disobedience, and then a curious, almost warm smile eased the anger away.

  “You are an anomaly Milly. When this is all over I expect an answer to my question.”

  “When this is over, we will have all the time in the world to talk, Your Eminence.”