Eden's Gate: The Scourge: A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  Rithnar trembled with anger. “If she’s dead, then you killed her!”

  “Why would he kill your wife and come here?” Mordok asked. “That makes little sense.”

  “A Highcastle soldier managed to find and kill her,” I lied, not allowing Rithnar to answer. After all the trouble Mylynzen and Jenzyn went through to avoid bringing the Barbaros into the war with the Scourge, I didn’t want to throw them under the bus.

  Rithnar shook his head rapidly, but his face was softening as if he was starting to accept my story. “I don’t believe you… She… She can’t be dead.”

  I nodded subtly. “I’m sorry…”

  “Tell me what you know of Malaki,” Mordok said.

  “Malaki?” I asked.

  “His treasured mask. How did it come into your possession?” Mordok asked.

  I placed my hand on my unburdening bag where I had since stowed the Liar’s Mask. “You know what it is?”

  “I’ve read about it and seen drawings of his mask,” Mordok explained. “Malaki, The Liar was a famous riddler and is said to have placed several unsolvable puzzles around Eden’s Gate. There are texts written of him and his treasures, and I was surprised to see a green belt wearing such a legendary item. Did you steal it from someone?”

  I swallowed hard and shook my head.

  Mordok smirked and huffed as if he didn’t believe me. “Whatever. You two speak of a child?” Mordok questioned, raising an eyebrow.

  “He’s being cared for, right outside of the Freelands,” I explained.

  “Who… who is caring for him?” Rithnar asked.

  “An even better question,” Mordok interjected, “is why was your wife in the Freelands? Even goblins wouldn’t purposely take their children into a war zone.”

  Rithnar quieted, swallowed hard, and slowly slumped his shoulders. “I think you may know why.”

  “No,” Mordok said. “I don’t… What is your name?”

  “Rithnar…”

  “Why, Rithnar? Why was she in the Freelands?”

  Rithnar looked up to Mordok and stared at him intently. “You know!”

  “The Cataclysm?” Mordok asked, tilting his head. “Is that why?”

  Rithnar lowered his head and nodded slightly. “Yes…”

  “But that’s ridiculous,” Mordok said. “I mean, I understand your fears—anyone’s fears. But even if your child was chosen, you could always have another.”

  If his child was chosen? I wondered if their discussion had something to do with the rally I had witnessed right before I entered the Wastelands.

  “I may never have another,” Rithnar said. “We tried for years… many, many years, but it was only now that she finally managed to bear a child. I’m afraid he may be the last and only one in my bloodline. And this war increases that risk.”

  “If your seed is spoiled, it makes even less sense that she’d take your only successor into the Freelands,” Mordok said.

  “It’s my fault…” Rithnar said. “I pushed her to do this.”

  “Why would you do that? Why push her?” Mordok asked.

  “Not directly,” Rithnar explained. “We discussed hiring orcs to help us head south and try to make our way to Ember Cove. We thought if we could get there, we may be able to sail away from this continent, to join some of the non-Scourge orcs.”

  “You’d have to cross through Addenfall to get to Ember Cove,” Mordok explained. “Even if the guardians and elves didn’t kill you, the humans further south would.”

  “We spoke of working our way through Nestle Rock then passing through the Wildlands the rest of the journey.”

  “The Wildlands?!” Mordok asked, shaking his head with wide eyes. “That’s a fool’s plan.”

  “Yes,” Rithnar said. “It was… and that’s why I eventually disagreed with the idea. We argued for some time over this. She wanted to flee, but I wanted to fight.”

  “To fight?” Mordok questioned.

  Rithnar looked to the side but didn’t answer.

  “There’s no use for us talking if you’re not going to speak,” Mordok said.

  “Even if we win this war, the risk to my child and the rest of the Scourge is too great. If we capture Highcastle and the Freelands, Ergoth will grow more bloodthirsty. There will be more wars—next the elves, the dwarves, other humans. And these sacrifices—it’s not the right way. If we are truly courageous orcs, we should gather our armies and turn our attention to the Gilgaroth. We can defeat it ourselves.”

  “You misunderstand the power of ancient beasts,” Mordok argued, shaking his head. “And even if you were right, how would you ever convince Ergoth to stop his plans?”

  “Not convince him,” Rithnar said. “Unseat him.”

  Mordok’s eyes narrowed. “You speak of treason.”

  “Not treason,” Rithnar explained. “I had planned to challenge Ergoth like any orc rightly can—to defeat him in a duel and take his place.”

  Mordok laughed. “You think you can defeat King Ergoth? Have you lost your mind?”

  “I believe I can,” he said confidently. “And if I did, I would end this war, end the sacrifices. My child would have time to grow, have a family of his own, and continue our Bloodline. The Gilgaroth would be defeated, and the Wastelands would remain safe.”

  Mordok chuckled and shook his head. “You’d do better trekking through the Wildlands… It would at least be a slower death sentence.”

  Rithnar lowered his head. “Like you, my wife thought I couldn’t defeat Ergoth either. That must be why she left on her own accord. She knew that if I challenged him and lost, Ergoth would purposely kill our child—likely her as well, if he didn’t impregnate her in spite.”

  “He certainly would have,” Mordok said.

  “She said she was heading toward Barbarosia,” I said. “Though it didn’t seem she planned to stop there as she had no gold.”

  Mordok shook his head. “That’s unlikely. If she managed to sneak out of the Wastelands, going to Barbarosia wouldn’t have been very hard, and I’m not sure where she would go from there.”

  I realized that he was right, and the orc mother had likely just lied. When I found her hiding in the wagon, they were located off the road southeast of the Wastelands entrance. Judging by the trajectory from the Wastelands alone, one could deduce the wagon was heading in the direction of Nestle Rock.

  Mordok rubbed his chin. “I do agree with you that we’d be better off without Ergoth. He’s far more bloodthirsty than our former King, and since taking power, he’s pushing us to be more and more like the warmongers and savages other races view us to be.”

  “We once said ‘For the Scourge’,” Rithnar said. “Now we say ‘For Ergoth’. Our faction has lost its way.” He snarled and looked away.

  “Yes,” Mordok agreed. “Ergoth is changing the Scourge for the worst. And if it weren’t for the Gilgaroth and to a lesser degree the reapers, the Wastelands offer us natural security. We’d be better suited returning to the diplomacy table, like we once did with the Barbarosians. We could reach similar peace deals with the other races and spread our power through words and trade.”

  Rithnar nodded. “King Xurrak was a greater King, a more peaceful King. If Ergoth had not defeated him, the Scourge would be closer to progress, to restoring relations with the other races of Eden’s Gate.”

  Mordok nodded and huffed. “You’re right. But what happened, happened. Ergoth vanquished Xurrak—the unkillable, the Immortal King Xurrak. Now, he touts himself as ‘the greatest orc who ever lived’ and has unrivaled support. As long as the Scourge is isolated in the Wastelands, orcs will thirst for battle.”

  “You’re not like the other orcs,” I said, looking to Mordok. “You speak more… how do I say…?”

  “Educated?” Mordok questioned. “That may be the word you’re looking for. Or less savage, perhaps?” He took a deep breath. “Like humans, all orcs are not the same.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come
off as—”

  “No,” Mordok interrupted. “I understand your misperception. Most orcs these days take up the axe or sword and spend little time learning anything other than the art of war. To most, the next best thing to winning a battle is dying in battle. It wasn’t always like this; orcs were once just as rational and educated as other races, but the segregation, change in leadership, and so on has made us this way.”

  “What changed you?” I asked.

  Mordok shrugged. “Nothing changed me, but I’m sure my love of books had a big influence on my thoughts. Once my masters died, I had a lot of time to study and read here in this tower alone.”

  “Alone?” I asked.

  Mordok nodded. “I’m the last member of the Mages Guild here in the Wastelands, so I have the whole tower to myself. I’ve tried to get a few of the more intelligent orcs to join, but the rules, such as using magic only for good and ban on dark magic means most orcs interested in spellcasting choose to rather become warlocks or shamans and forgo any training in the Mages Guild.”

  “I see…” I muttered.

  “Without this warmongering, perhaps one day I can make a push to further educate my people.” Mordok turned to Rithnar. “Why did you think you could defeat Ergoth anyway? When I inspect you, it seems you’re only level 31. We both know the ‘greatest orc that ever lived’ is all propaganda, but he’s still a tremendously powerful orc who managed to kill King Xurrak. Do you have a special skill or ancient weapon you’re hiding?”

  “I had a plan…” Rithnar said. “I know I can’t defeat Ergoth under any normal circumstances, but I’ve located a blight beetle nest. I could challenge him and kill him while he’s weakened.”

  “Hah!” Mordok spat and raised his eyebrows high. “A blight beetle?”

  “Once bitten by a blight beetle, it takes sixty seconds to for its toxin to take effect. If I could get him to accept a duel after he’s been bitten but before he’s weakened, he’ll be forced to fight me in a blighted state.”

  “Clever…” Mordok said. “Clever, treasonous, unfair…”

  “That or we continue sacrificing our children to the Cataclysm,” Rithnar countered. “That or destroy Highcastle and enter a period of never-ending war.”

  As I listened to them talking, everything was beginning to come together, but I still didn’t understand parts of the story. “Ergoth is sacrificing children?” I asked. “Orc children? To the Cataclysm?”

  “To the Gilgaroth,” Rithnar answered.

  “An ancient beast?” I asked, seeking confirmation of what I was previously told.

  Mordok nodded. “An ancient beast—one of the most powerful, they say—is sealed in the Cataclysm below the Wastelands. A short time ago, it suddenly began stirring—a pounding beneath us that rattled the ground and terrifying roars each night, frightening enough to cause many of our goblins to run away and hurriedly flee the Wastelands.”

  That explained why I had encountered rushed goblin camps set up right outside the mouth of the Wastelands prior to the Scourge attacks. They must have been some of the goblins who had run away.

  “The shamans say the Gilgaroth isn’t pleased with something and has sent dangerous Reborns to terrorize us. They call them reapers.” Mordok waved his hand in front of him. “The prophecy of immortals and ancients seems to be unraveling, and some fear the Gilgaroth will escape the Cataclysm and lay ruin to everyone and everything in the Wastelands. Thus, the Shaman Council has advised us to sacrifice our youngest to the Gilgaroth in order to appease the ancient beast.”

  “That has pressured Ergoth to make his move now,” Rithnar explained. “He wants to act quickly so that we’ll have somewhere safe to go if the Gilgaroth actually does break free.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and shook my head, realizing immediately the folly in the orc’s thinking. I wasn’t sure why they were calling Reborns ‘reapers’, but it made little difference, so long as they were actually Reborns. “So, immortals are attacking you, and an ancient beast in the Cataclysm is acting weird, right?”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Mordok said.

  I smiled and exhaled. “Do you know of the Old Ones?”

  They both nodded.

  “The Gilgaroth isn’t ‘angry’, but the spell that holds it is weakening,” I said. “Most of the Old Ones have died, and not too long ago, an All-Seeing Eye was stolen from the remaining Old Ones. I’ve been to the Eternal Ravine.”

  “What?” Mordok asked, creasing his brow. “The Old Ones are dead?”

  I nodded. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, since you’re orcs and all, but yes, partially. Only two Old Ones remain, and they’re struggling to keep the ancients pacified. When did the volcano erupt?”

  “About two weeks ago,” Mordok answered.

  “During the period that the eye was stolen,” I said. “That’s when dragons were more agitated than they are now… One even flew down and wrecked part of the Arena in Highcastle.”

  “Yes…” Mordok said. “I saw dragons flying closer than normal. Many of our worgs were eaten.”

  “Shouldn’t we just tell Ergoth?” I asked. “If he knows why the Gilga-whatever is acting up, he’ll stop sacrificing orcs. He’ll call off the war as well.”

  Mordok shook his head. “His ear is open only to the Shaman Council, and none of them would believe us without proof. Do you have any proof?”

  I thought about it a moment then shook my head. “No, there’s no way for me to prove it.”

  “Then forget about that,” Mordok insisted. “So long as the Gilgaroth stirs, Ergoth will move forward with his plans, and until we’ve conquered Highcastle and moved the Scourge out of the Wastelands, he’ll continue to sacrifice orcs to the Cataclysm.”

  “I must kill him,” Rithnar said. “For the future of my bloodline.”

  Mordok sighed loudly. “You’re more level-headed than Ergoth and would surely be a finer King than him, but you’re not thinking clearly. You’d need to be in close enough range to have a beetle bite him, and Ergoth rarely leaves his fortress. Not only that, but you’d have only a sixty second window for him to accept your challenge. Too many things would have to be aligned in the right order for that to work.”

  “I must try,” Rithnar said, “for my child and for the future of the Scourge.”

  Mordok shrugged and shook his head. “Level-headed and hard-headed.” He looked up a bit and swiped his finger against his nose. “I suppose it may work if an orc serving in the fortress could also tame a beetle and joined in on your plan. With the right coordination, he could use the beetle from out of sight and behind Ergoth, and you could subsequently challenge him. But… Good luck trying to find an orc close enough to Ergoth who’d be willing to do that. You’d likely get beheaded at the suggestion of such a thing.”

  “Even if you can’t defeat Ergoth, I need to return your child to you,” I said. “How do I get him back to you and complete my quest?”

  “So long as there’s fighting in the Freelands, it’s too dangerous to transport my child,” Rithnar explained. “I won’t allow the risk, and things are going to get much worse soon.”

  “Much worse how?” I asked.

  Rithnar turned to Mordok, and they eyed each other a long while before Mordok gave a subtle nod. “He’s a neutral member of the Mages Guild,” Mordok said. “I’m certain he’s not a spy.”

  “Ergoth is building a catapult the likes of which Eden’s Gate has never seen,” Rithnar said. “It will be able to throw boulders four times the size of an elephant, directly over our mountain borders and into Highcastle. It will be finished soon.”

  “A catapult?” I muttered.

  “Once the human King grows confident that he’s regained control of the Freelands, he’ll most likely send the bulk of his army to retake Newich, and that’s when Ergoth will launch the catapult, killing the King and destroying most of Inner Highcastle. That’s also when Ergoth will send the second wave of Scourge—our highest-level commanders, worg ri
ders, goblin mages, warlocks, shamans and all else to wipe out the rest of the Highcastle’s army in the Freelands, unprotected by any walls. They’ll be surrounded, and ultimately surrender or fall.”

  “Many lives will be lost,” Mordok said, “Highcastle is strong, but it will be an easy victory for the Scourge.”

  I gulped and suddenly felt horrified about the situation. It wasn’t just the King, Queen, Princess Isabella, and everyone else I knew in Highcastle and the Freelands who I was worried about, but the absolute confidence that both the orcs seemed to have that they’d win. The threat of the Scourge was far greater than anyone outside of the Wastelands knew, and with half of Highcastle’s army shipped away, I was beginning to believe that Ergoth could execute.

  I had been concerned about the Bloodletters, the ancient beasts, and looking for ways to rebuild and grow Edgewood Village, but this was a more urgent threat than them all. If the Scourge really took Highcastle and the Freelands, everything I was working for would be turned upside down. Would the Arena even exist anymore? Would Dryden immediately sail across the Serpent Sea? The orcs were wrong with their assumptions about the ancient beasts, but if Ergoth acted on it the way I was told, it would be a disaster.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

  “You?” Rithnar asked. He turned to Mordok and stared as if looking for an answer from him.

  “I understand you had a quest to return the orc child,” Mordok stated, “but how can you help otherwise?”

  “Maybe I can help you defeat Ergoth in some way,” I said, giving a subtle nod to Rithnar. “I’m not a Freelander, but I live not too far from Highcastle, so it’s in my best interest that this war is ended before it goes too far.”

  “But how could you possibly help?” Rithnar asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. You suggested that someone else tame a blight beetle to take out Ergoth. I can tame… not much, but a bit.”