Eden's Gate: The Scourge: A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  You’ve received a quest offer: A Trollish Request!

  The mountain hobgoblins would like you to kill a mountain troll that has been troubling them for quite some time.

  Reward: 15,000 XP, Unknown Reward

  Do you accept this quest? Accept/Decline

  “What level is the troll?” I asked.

  “Last I saw, he was level 42,” he said.

  I grinned, knowing I didn’t have time, and even if I did, the troll was a bit out of the level range I’d be comfortable with. “Maybe I can help sometime, but I’m not sure when. If you can wait a while, I’ll put it on my list of things to do.”

  You have accepted the quest: A Trollish Request!

  “The sooner the better,” the hobgoblin said. “But if not, please leave my elementals be.”

  “I’ll try,” I said as I looked from side to side, scanning the area. “What is this place again?”

  “This is Gnomino Cliff,” the old hobgoblin said. “I am Fedruka, the village elder. As thanks for your help, you’re welcome to return, and we will allow you freedom through the pass below.”

  You now have freedom of passage through: Hidden Gnomino Pass!

  The old hobgoblin waved his cane in front of him. “And please do not bring many here, as we like to keep to ourselves.”

  I nodded.

  A miniature reptile creeped out of the newly opened cave and limped towards the dark-haired, bag-toting hobgoblin, barking several times like a dog. From the hobgoblin’s scaled-down perspective, the four-legged creature probably appeared the same size as a dog, but it had a snout like a crocodile and a tail like an armadillo. Its ribcage was visible through its thin, scaly skin.

  “Oh, my baby!” the hobgoblin yelled, running towards the creature. “You survived after all this time? How is that possible?” He kneeled and started petting the creature. “Did you drink my health potions?”

  The creature barked again.

  “I will care for him,” another hobgoblin said, kneeling and trying to pull the strange animal’s attention away. “Finish your business with this human so we can see him off.”

  “Yes, yes,” the hobgoblin said, rubbing his pet one last time before standing up and looking at me. “Do you need anything for your journey?” He tilted his head to the cave I had exposed. “That was… or now is, where I conduct trade for the village. I’m certain that my goods inside are still intact.”

  I almost told him that I didn’t bring any gold, but I remembered that I had collected the elemental core and some reagents. There was the possibility to trade them in if they had any value. “Can I see your goods?”

  The vendor looked to me and then to his shop. He twisted his lips and said, “Getting you inside would be impossible, but if you have any idea of what you need, I may be able to help.”

  I groaned. “Maybe health potions and bandages.”

  “Bandages, I can do,” the hobgoblin said. “But we were low on potions even before the troll hit our village with the rock. If you’ll wait a moment, I can show you a couple other things that you may find useful.”

  “Sure,” I said with a nod.

  The vendor hurried into his shop, and I sat and watched as the other hobgoblins went about their business, suddenly showing no fear at all towards me.

  “If you’re hungry while you wait—” Fedruka lifted his cane and pointed it to the food vendor outside who had fixed his stall and was waving a brown block in the air.

  “Hobgob loaf!” the vendor cried. “Hobgob loaf! Little dirty, half price.” He glanced at one of the loaves and brushed it off with a hand. He was selling the food that had toppled when I destroyed the boulder, but several hobgoblins were still taking him up on his offer.

  Other hobgoblins were washing clothes, bickering, and sharpening picks that they used to climb up and down the mountains. One hobgoblin in particular was leaning up against a wall, saying something to a particularly shy female hobgoblin. At least, I could only assume it was female, given her skirt, combed hair, and feminine stance. There was little else I could see that helped distinguish the different hobgoblin genders.

  “Gnomino Cliff, huh?” I questioned Fedruka. “Sounds a lot like Gnominom—a gnome town I’ve heard of before.”

  Fedruka turned towards me and tilted his head to the side. “You don’t know of hobgoblins?”

  “You’re the first I’ve met,” I said.

  Fedruka pointed his cane towards the caves in the mountain face. “These mountains were once home to gnomes before the wars that ravaged the Wastelands. All but a few gnomes moved on to safer areas, but legend says a few brave gnomes chose to stay—all men…” Fedruka shook his head. “It must have been the isolation that drove the gnomes to mate with goblins, but we’re the descendants of that act.”

  “So, you’re half gnome, half goblin?” I asked.

  “We’d like to think we’re more gnome than goblin. We accept what we are, but even we cannot tolerate the vileness and ignorance of goblins.”

  “Bandage!” the vendor yelled when he emerged from his shop. “Take it for free as my thanks. I can’t charge you for something as small as this after you helped us get my business back up and running again.”

  You’ve received: Small Bandage. Durability: 5/5. Quality: Average. Rarity: Common. Weight: 0.1 kg. Useful for healing light wounds.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “And as for the items I wanted to show you, here.” He set two items on the ground in front of me.

  Resourceful Ring of Silvering. Durability: 7/10. Quality: Average. Rarity: Legendary. Weight: 0.1 kg. Spells that require reagents use only ½ the reagents to cast. Steel and iron weapons function as silver against undead opponents.

  Durable Leather Wizard’s Boots of Meditative Prowess. +12 Armor. Durability: 30/30. Quality: Exceptional. Rarity: Epic. Weight: 1.4 kg. +1 Intelligence. 10% Magic Damage. Meditation regenerates mana 30% faster.

  Unfortunately, the first item he showed me was of no use, though very powerful. I had only one spell at the time that required only a single reagent, and I wasn’t using steel or iron weapons much while training with a staff. It was something I’d have to keep in mind to come back for in case I needed it later.

  The boots, however, were particularly interesting. “How much for the boots?”

  “6,000 gold,” the vendor said. “They’re perfect for a mee-gee who can boom.”

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but I knew that was a fair price based on their great stats. “I don’t have the gold, but I can trade you some items.”

  I began to pull out the reagents I had collected along the way. The vendor inspected each of them, but he seemed particularly impressed by the elemental core.

  “A wonderful trade. These are quite hard to find,” he said as he lifted the elemental core. “With this and the Mittitori Blooms, I can offer you around 4,500 gold.”

  “That’s not enough for the boots,” I said, though I did find it comical that I was essentially selling them back something that I had looted from an elemental that Fedruka had summoned.

  “Do you have anything else to trade?” the vendor asked.

  I reached for the top of my staff. “Not that I can part with…” I shrugged and leaned over to tap my low-level, non-magic shoes. “Actually, if I’m buying boots, I can trade in these shoes.”

  The vendor came close to me and started inspecting my shoes. He pulled a miniature identifying wand out of his bag, tapped the top of my foot, and frowned. “These are worth less than 50 gold in their current state.”

  “Be kind to him,” Fedruka chimed in. “If not for him, your shop would remain closed.”

  The vendor took a deep breath and nodded before smiling at me. “I’ll give you a discount on the boots. For your shoes and the reagents, we’ll just call it an even trade.”

  I hated to give up all the reagents, especially the elemental core that I was certain had some unknown importance and also ended in ‘E’, but I also needed to think about
the short term as well. There was always a chance I could find the reagents again, but the boots would help me right away.

  “Fine,” I said. “Even trade.”

  The vendor grinned, lifted the boots to me, and motioned with his free hand to give him mine.

  I pulled off my shoes, handed them to him, and when he handed me the boots, I slid my feet inside. They felt a lot sturdier than the old shoes, and I could feel their magic pouring into me.

  “Thank you,” I said as I tightened the laces.

  “Thanks,” the vendor replied.

  “Thank you for your boom,” Fedruka added.

  “Thanks for letting me by,” I returned with a slight bow. I turned around and headed for the ladder I had climbed. “I need to get going, but I’m sure I’ll be back someday.”

  “I hope you have a plan if you’re heading towards the Wastelands!” Fedruka yelled. “There’s nothing but trouble that way!”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m not sure if it’ll work, but I’ve got a plan.”

  At least, I had a rough plan. If I actually made it into the Wastelands, I’d be playing everything else by ear.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  2/21/0001

  After I descended the ladder that the hobgoblins had lowered, they quickly raised it, offering no obvious way for me or anyone else to go back up. If I ever returned, it seemed I’d have to find a way to get their attention in order to enter their little, hidden community.

  I continued my walk towards the Wastelands, past the area where the hobgoblins had found me, and experienced no other encounters the rest of the way. Like the tiny red creatures had stated, the Wastelands weren’t far, and after only another five minutes or so of hiking, the horizon opened up into a huge expanse.

  I approached the area with caution, not sure what to expect, and ultimately reached a ledge where I could look down to the valley below.

  The ground, several hundred meters down, was nearly devoid of any plant life, and in the distance was a large volcano that was oozing molten lava out of its mouth, down its side, and into a massive rift in the ground beneath it. The rift stretched for further than I could see, and small, crude towers and tents darted the landscape sporadically.

  If there were any doubts that I had reached the Wastelands, it would’ve been quashed by the sight of a large fortress not far from the cliffside, where orcs were slowly congregating.

  The fortress was constructed of tall wooden posts, and at its very top was what appeared to be a lookout tower. Several massive sharp tusks or horns had been erected around the building, which almost rose to the height of the fortress itself. Smaller tusks were protruding from the edges of the structure, and the skulls of unknown creatures hung above the entrance, giving it a menacing appearance.

  I noticed a single emaciated goblin trapped in a tiny metal cage, and vultures flew overhead, waiting for their next meal.

  I felt pretty certain that none of the orcs below could see me from where I was standing, and even if they did, I was far too high up for them to do anything. Still, I instinctively crouched into sneak mode due to the sheer number of them. I was there to infiltrate the Wastelands, and if anyone spotted me, my plans would be ruined.

  My heart raced as I snuck around the ledge, looking for a way to climb down. What would I do first? I wondered. What if the disguise kit didn’t work? I was starting to question the sanity of my plan now that I was actually in the presence of so many orcs. I had taken the force of an orc’s axe to the ribcage before, and I knew there were high-level commanders and other baddies below that were likely a lot stronger than any Scourge I had encountered before. If anything went wrong, I was definitely headed to the void.

  My hands shook a little as I reached in my bag and pulled out the disguise kit, but just as I was about to open it and set my plan in motion, a loud voice echoed off the mountains around me. It startled me, causing the medallion from the disguise kit to partially slip out and dangle between my fingers as I almost dropped the whole thing.

  “Scourge!” a powerful voice yelled.

  “Argh!” several voices shouted in unison.

  I focused in on the orcs and saw that a particularly large and powerful-looking one had stepped out of a lookout tower atop the fortress and was standing on the platform right above the hanging skulls. He wore tall leather boots with spiked metal guards on his shins. A metal cap with bullhorns was strapped to his head, and he had a spiked leather chestpiece with large broken skulls covering his shoulders. His underbite was obvious, even from where I was standing, and he had the two biggest fangs I had ever seen on an orc rising from his lower mandible.

  The orc snorted and paced around the platform atop the fortress furiously before stopping and yelling again. “Scourge!”

  “Argh!” came another chant.

  The large, menacing orc continued to pace for several more seconds before stopping again and looking out to the assembling crowd. “Scourge!”

  “Argh!” the chant grew louder.

  Orcs hidden behind the fortress and more from the mountain directly behind the fortress filed out and gathered.

  “Scourge!”

  “Argh!” the chants continued.

  “Scourge!”

  “Argh!”

  Orcs were still pouring in and around the fortress when the pacing orc stopped right at the center of the fortress platform, unfastened the battleaxe hooked at his side, and lifted it into the air. “Scourrrrrrge!” he yelled powerfully.

  “Argh! Argh! Argh!” the orcs roared again and again.

  The orc lowered his axe and breathed heavily, anger burning in his eyes as he stared down at the orcs assembling below him. He said nothing for several seconds before yelling, “Who is the greatest orc who ever lived?!”

  “Ergoth!” the gathering orcs all yelled, raising their weapons in the air.

  “Who is—” He paused a moment before raising his voice even more. “—the greatest orc who ever lived?!”

  “Ergoth!” the voices yelled louder.

  “Yes…” the orc atop the platform said. “And now, my father, King Ergoth, the greatest orc who ever lived, will lead us all to a new chapter in Scourge history!”

  “Argh! Argh! Argh!”

  My heart thumped. Not only would I have to contend with the orcs in the Wastelands somehow, but I had already found myself standing before King Ergoth’s son. All I had wanted to do was get in and find the baby orc’s father, but my danger level seemed to be rising by the second.

  King Ergoth’s son continued to look out at the other orcs as if he wanted to kill someone before he suddenly smiled and laughed. “We have advanced on the Freelands and taken Newich!”

  “Argh!”

  “We build!”

  “Argh!”

  “We destroy!”

  “Argh!”

  “And soon, Highcastle and the Freelands will feel the true wrath of the Scourge, the true power of orcs!”

  “Argh! Argh! Argh!”

  Ergoth’s son tilted his head back and cackled. “We are mighty, and we will earn our overdue respect. Highcastle will be ours!”

  “Argh!”

  Another orc, dressed in a loose black robe, stepped out of the tower and onto the platform beside Ergoth’s son. He had matted black hair that fell to his shoulders, and a necklace composed of teeth and dried herbs was hanging from his neck. His face was old and wrinkly, and unlike most orcs I had seen, he didn’t appear to have protruding fangs. He gazed at the people below before turning to Ergoth’s son.

  The King’s son noticed the gesture, and his menacing appearance seemed to sadden a bit, though he held his emotions in well. He snarled at the robed orc before looking down at the assembly and puffing out his chest. “Victory will soon be ours, but until then, the Wastelands remain threatened. You all know what must be done.” He turned his head from side to side scanning the onlookers. “The Shaman Council calls upon a brave one in Fort Destrog! Who here has the courage to pay reverence
to the Cataclysm?!”

  Suddenly the answers to the orc’s calls were silent. Only the wind blowing across the valley and the sound of a vulture cawing could be heard.

  “No one here is orc enough to protect the Scourge?!” the King’s son asked loudly.

  Again, nothing but silence.

  “You there!” the orc in the black robe yelled and pointed a long finger with a sharp black nail toward someone in the crowd. “Do you have the courage?”

  All heads seemed to turn to one tall, male orc who was standing beside a much smaller orc—a teenager or young adult. The taller orc grabbed him by the hand.

  The smaller orc tried to pull away from the larger orc, and the larger orc looked down at him, shook his head, and breathed heavily.

  “Nooo!” the smaller orc cried, bending his knees and trying to use all his weight to free his hand.

  A moment of silence proceeded with the man shaking his head and yelling back, “No! He’s too old. The Gilgaroth will not be pleased.”

  “Coward!” the man in black yelled, pointing his finger again.

  “We came here to build!” the older orc yelled. “He works hard. He is a strong builder!”

  A sudden spark of energy seemed to erupt between the young and older orc, breaking them apart and throwing them both to the ground.

  Both orcs were obviously injured and groaned drunkenly as they struggled to get back up. No one offered them any help, and it actually seemed as if everyone were trying to avoid looking at the scene.

  “No one here has the courage?” Ergoth’s son questioned again. “Morgsgorg has given many, but yet our forward Fortress is so cowardly?” After several seconds of silence, he yelled, “Fine! The Shaman Council will choose. You all know what must be done!”