Eden's Gate: The Scourge: A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  Rithnar laughed. “We need someone who can act from inside of the fortress. There’s no way Ergoth would allow a human in there.”

  I lowered my head and sighed as I tried to think of another option.

  “Wait,” Mordok said, holding up one of his palms. “Actually, it’s not as crazy an idea as it sounds.”

  “What?” Rithnar leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

  “This human here is a member of the Mages Guild, and even Ergoth knows we act as a neutral faction and for the greater good of Eden’s Gate. If I were to request a meeting with Ergoth on behalf of the Mages Guild, there’s a possibility Ergoth would respect tradition and allow the human inside of the fortress.”

  “No,” Rithnar said, smirking and snorting. “He would not.”

  “Yes…” Mordok argued. “It’s not unheard of for members of the Mages Guild to be granted meetings with faction leaders, to request an end to tyranny or war—an invasion of the Freelands, for example. We both know Ergoth wouldn’t honor our requests, but it wouldn’t be impossible to get close enough to make the proposal.”

  “He wears a green belt,” Rithnar said. “The Mages Guild wouldn’t send one of their worst.”

  I felt a little offended by the comment and almost chimed in to defend myself but thought better of it.

  Mordok shrugged and shook his head. “We can play him off as a master.” He turned to me. “You can stay calm and act as if you’re a master mage, can’t you? A red belt might even cause Ergoth or the shamans to hesitate before trying to attack. They’d at least know they’re in for a hard fight if they launch an assault on a master mage.”

  I nodded. “I believe I can…”

  “Ridiculous,” Rithnar spat.

  “Ridiculous?” Mordok questioned. “Trekking through the Wildlands is ridiculous. Battling Ergoth as a level 31 is ridiculous. Virtually everything you’ve been talking about is ridiculous! This may be your only chance to make your ridiculous ideas work.”

  Rithnar had no retort.

  Mordok turned to me. “You may die, human. You realize that, right? Ergoth can be brazen and unpredictable. If we approach him, he may throw tradition out the door and kill you simply for being a human.”

  “I understand,” I muttered. “But if he did, wouldn’t that be grounds for the Mages Guild to act?”

  “Good point,” Mordok said. “Hopefully, he’s wise enough not to invoke the wrath of the Mages Guild.”

  “How can we trust him?” Rithnar asked, staring at me out of the corner of his eyes. “This human may really be a spy here to attack us.”

  Mordok sighed. “If he’s a spy, he knows too much already. But we don’t have to trust him any longer. If he does something stupid, he’ll die either way.”

  I frowned and glared at Rithnar. “How can I trust you? What if you kill Ergoth and kill me right after?”

  Rithnar stared at me a long moment before saying, “You have my word, human. If I manage to kill Ergoth, I will end this war and seek peace with Highcastle. And if I can retrieve my child, you will forever have my gratitude.”

  “Very well,” Mordok said. “We don’t have much time. If you’re really going to do this, I suppose you’ll need to start with a blight beetle. Are you certain that you wish to take this risk?”

  You’ve received a quest offer: Bite of the Blight!

  Rithnar and Mordok have proposed you tame a Blight Beetle in order to help take down Ergoth.

  Reward: 10,000 XP

  Do you accept this quest? Accept/Decline

  “I’m certain,” I said. I looked to my shoulder where an arrow was still protruding that I had been ignoring the whole time. “Let me just get this thing out, and we can go do whatever we need to do.”

  You have accepted the quest: Bite of the Blight!

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  2/21/0001

  As we rode away from Morgsgorg, I saw more of the Wastelands from a tiny hole.

  A few hundred meters behind the capital city was yet another city—if it could be called that. It looked a lot more like a massive detention center or a homeless slum. Hundreds, if not thousands of tiny tents, barely two feet tall, had been set up. They were built of twigs, torn thin cloth, and were just big enough for a goblin or two to crouch and fit inside.

  The area was surrounded by a rusted, metal picket fence, giving clear sight inside, and goblins were packed in there like sardines, standing or sitting nearly shoulder to shoulder. I wasn’t sure how the giga-goblins, who were also roaming inside, managed to fit into the tents.

  Outside the fence, several armed orcs guarded the pen, crossing their arms and looking in, making sure none of the goblins made the wrong move.

  We passed several caves, a cemetery with wooden markers, and a few stone structures that looked like tombs or temples of some sort. There were also a few stray homes and small communities of orcs and goblins scattered about, but for the most part the Wastelands were barren.

  “Ow!” I groaned as my head hit the top of the wooden crate I was crouched down in, for the millionth time. I rubbed my head and peeked outside the hole again to see if anything had changed over the past twenty minutes of travel.

  It was dark, and we were moving fast, but the squeaking of the wheels below the crate were finally starting to slow.

  Rithnar clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth several times. “Whoa, whoa…”

  As the cart stopped, I stayed quiet, waiting and listening.

  “We’re clear, human! You can come out,” Rithnar finally said.

  I pushed the lid of the crate I was in open, and I was surrounded by darkness. With Rithnar’s torch only lighting the immediate area, I raised my hand and cast Divine Sight on myself, giving me a better view.

  “What magic is that?” Rithnar growled.

  “It grants me vision in the dark,” I explained.

  “Hmph,” he said, turning away and to the animal that had pulled us somewhere deep within the Wastelands. It was big but only about half the size of Sora. It had a vague resemblance to Fenris with a doggish mouth and deep black, matted fur. Parts of its pelt were missing all over, as if it were sick or had previously been in a fight, and the lips of its mouth were set in a way that it constantly showed its teeth. Sticky drool dangled from its jaw.

  “Is it a Great Beast?” I questioned as I stepped out of the wooden crate.

  “No,” Rithnar said, as he unhooked a set of chains that were attached to the cart. “Just a regular worg. A great worg would be at least twice this size.” He pulled the worg by the chains and started tying it off to a rock nearby.

  Even with Divine Sight, there was little to see where we had stopped. A single old, leafless tree was nearby and some sparse rocks and foliage. The ground was nothing but hardened brown dirt with an occasional blade of brown, dying grass.

  I stepped out of the cart and to the dusty ground below. “Where are we?”

  “A far corner of the Wastelands, near where I found the blight beetle’s nest. We should be fine to camp here for tonight. It’s rare for anyone to venture this far out. Most Scourge looking for experience venture into the caves and tombs closer to the city. The braver ones will try one of the pits in the Cataclysm, though few have traveled there since the eruption.

  “Camp? All night?” I questioned, not liking the idea. “Here?”

  “Argh,” the orc grunted. “Blight beetles are small and like to hide during the night. You’d likely get bitten more rustling around in their nest without a clear view.” He turned to me and grinned. “You don’t want a blight beetle’s bite if you can avoid it.”

  I sighed. I knew I was going to have to spend more time in the Wastelands than I had intended, but I didn’t think I’d be there an entire night, camping and all. Some of my guild wouldn’t be happy about my disappearance.

  Rithnar finished tying off his worg, set up a small campfire, and erected a portable tent that he had brought with him. We each gathered good-sized rocks and carried them
to the campfire for seating. Rithnar grabbed a fallen twig near the tree, which he rammed through a piece of large, mysterious brown meat.

  “What’s that?” I asked as I hoovered the meat over the campfire.

  “Human,” Rithnar said.

  My eyes went wide, and my heart dropped. “What? You’re eating human? In front of me?”

  Rithnar chuckled and smiled, which surprised me considering his usual serious nature. “It’s only drope meat. But if you try anything stupid tonight, I might have to try my first bite of human flesh.”

  I frowned at his threat, but my frown quickly turned to a grin as I considered the joke. It was a good one, coming from an orc—at least I hoped it was a joke.

  He pulled the meat from the fire and ripped a piece off with his mouth. As he chewed, he held the stick out towards me. “Here, have some.”

  I swallowed hard, not really wanting to eat something from an orc, but I was a bit hungry at the same time. I had eaten drope meat in Edgewood several times, and it was quite delicious, but there was no telling if Rithnar’s meat was old, rotten, or actually drope meat at all.

  I grabbed the stick, took a whiff of the meat, and when I felt confident that it was really drope, I took a bite. It was drope meat alright—a bit tougher and less flavorful than what I was expecting, but mostly the same as what I was used to.

  “Thanks,” I said as I handed the stick back to him.

  We sat silently for several minutes, passing the meat stick back and forth, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

  You are well-fed! Stamina and Vitality increased by 15% while this effect is active

  “The castle or whatever it is—the big building in Morgsgorg. What’s that?” I asked.

  “Ergoth’s fortress,” Rithnar answered.

  “I saw something similar but smaller when I first entered the Wastelands. Someone was giving a rally there, hooting about the upcoming attacks.”

  “Fort Destrog is one of Ergoth’s newer fortifications. He has multiple forts that he oversees and rallies troops from, but his main fortress is in the capital. It was likely Prince Azhug you saw there. He’s been heading up the construction of the catapult there.”

  “It looked like they were choosing someone for a sacrifice,” I said.

  “The Shaman council will do their rounds, looking for volunteers in each of our cities. If no one volunteers, they will choose one of our youngest on their own.”

  “I see…” I muttered. “And the goblins behind Morgsgorg. Why are they fenced in?”

  “Goblins that can behave are allowed to roam free, but the stupidest goblins are confined while we train them for war. If we let all goblins run free, the Wastelands would be chaos. Some have no self-control, while others are trusted warriors, even a few mages.”

  “Don’t you think it’s cruel?” I questioned.

  Rithnar huffed. “Why don’t you try living with goblins?”

  “I’ve seen goblins tortured for fun as well,” I said. “Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair?”

  “Unfair how?” Rithnar asked.

  “Orcs treat them like they’re monsters, but I’m sure orcs don’t like that other races treat them like monsters.”

  Rithnar tilted his head a bit and his eyes shifted slowly as he thought about my statement, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Why help orcs?”

  I shrugged. “I can’t let Ergoth destroy Highcastle, and—”

  “Not now,” Rithnar interrupted. “My wife and child. What made you try to help them?”

  I weaved my fingers together and looked off into the darkness. “I’m not sure… But when I’ve met orcs before, they just came right at me, wanted to chop off my head. But when I saw your wife under the wagon, she just wanted to save your child or live for your child—probably both. There was something human about it, like how any human mother would act. Killing them just felt wrong. Letting them die would’ve felt wrong too.”

  “You’re not like other humans,” Rithnar muttered, and he suddenly smiled. “You smell as bad as the others, but you don’t behave the same.”

  “I don’t smell bad,” I refuted. “Have you smelled yourself?”

  Rithnar lifted his arm, whiffed his hairy armpit and shrugged. “Better than a human, that’s for sure.”

  “You might want to get your nose checked,” I said.

  Rithnar smiled, but after a few seconds, his smile melted back to a sad frown. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for what?” I asked.

  “Thank you for trying to save them,” he said.

  I lowered my head. “You’re welcome. I just wish I could’ve done more.”

  “Are you certain my child is safe?” Rithnar asked.

  I thought about my friends in Edgewood, and while I had my concerns, particularly about the High Elves, I was pretty sure the guild would do their best to protect the baby orc. They might be upset that they’d have to take care of him longer than expected due to my late return, but they wouldn’t let me down.

  “I’m sure,” I said.

  “Tell me again what your Beast Lore level is.”

  I pulled up my stats to double check.

  “I’m at level 3.”

  Rithnar ripped the last bit of meat from the stick and threw the stick in the fire. “We should rest now. Tomorrow will be much work.”

  He quashed the fire with dirt and pulled back the curtain of the small tent he had set up. He had laid out two tufts of hay, which I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on. Not necessarily because it was hay, but because I’d be sleeping right beside an orc—something prior to that evening I couldn’t have ever imagined.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Day 52 (Earth)

  “So, are you saying that titles have no meaning,” the dark-skinned man in the grey suit questioned. He had told Kendra his name was Todd from the CIA.

  Todd, along with two of his companions, sat at a long, white table in a large conference room.

  Kendra stood in front of a whiteboard where she had been writing details about the workings of Eden’s Gate to them. “No, I’m not saying that they have no meaning. They’re more so an identifier than anything. In fact, titles can be quite strategic. For example, a fighter could gain a caster’s title through learning certain magic skills, misleading an opponent about their skillset. And of course, gaining certain titles such as thief or rogue could have negative social consequences. Elusive titles such as Prince or King can be very powerful, as they give prestige while also masking your primary abilities.”

  A shaggy-haired man, Jeff from the FBI, leaned forward. “And you just gain them by doing shit?”

  “Yeah, basically,” Kendra affirmed. “Titles are based on your skills and experience.”

  “Let’s talk about banking,” Todd said. “You mentioned before that there’s no universal banking system.”

  “Right,” Kendra said.

  “So, you can’t just deposit all your gold to a bank, travel across the world, and safely withdraw it?” Todd asked.

  Kendra bobbed her head from side to side. “That might be possible if you stumbled across some sort of banking broker.”

  “What do you mean, ‘If you stumbled across’?” Marsha, a blonde woman from the Department of Defense asked. “Either it’s in-game or it’s not.”

  “No,” Kendra said, shaking her head. “Something you have to understand is that Eden’s Gate is organic. The NPCs behave organically. Yes, there are banks. For example, you can go to most major cities and deposit money, but you’d have to go back to that city and withdraw it as your money is actually stored in that city. However, it’s not entirely impossible that a group of NPCs could develop a ledger system to allow people to withdraw money from different cities. There are magic means for data to be communicated via books and texts.”

  Jeff dropped his hand on the table and looked aside. “Fuck, this is so convoluted.”

  Todd chuckled at Jeff’s frustration. “So, you can store your gold
on yourself, in your house, in a guild treasury, all of which could be compromised in some way by another party?”

  “Yes,” Kendra said.

  “So, putting your gold in the bank would be safer, right?” Todd said.

  Kendra shrugged. “Yes, to some degree. But if you stored your gold in a city and that city got ransacked, you’d still lose your gold. There’s always a risk.”

  “Eden’s Gate has no mercy,” Todd muttered. “You could lose your whole life savings in an instant.”

  “That’s why you hire guards, build a stronger house, etcetera, etcetera,” Kendra explained. “Hell, you can even bury your gold if you’re especially paranoid.”

  “Storing your gold in a highly fortified city would be the best bet, right?” Marsha asked.

  “Possibly,” Kendra said. “But bankers are going to charge you interest to hold your gold. There’s no free lunch.”

  “Wait,” Jeff said. “You don’t earn interest?”

  “No,” Kendra said, shaking her head. “Bankers don’t take your money, reinvest it for higher profits, and then print more of it if they make a mistake like they do here on Earth. Bankers in Eden’s Gate protect your gold for you as a service, and you pay them for that service. If you want to hoard gold, you’re going to have to pay for it in some way, whether it be investing in proper security or paying interest for someone else to secure it for you.” She held up her hands and shrugged. “Though I’m just going on how things were during the beta period. Things could definitely have changed since then.”

  Marsha sighed. “I need a break.”

  “Me too,” Jeff said. “My brain is about to explode.”

  “Alright guys,” Todd said, slapping his hands together. “Let’s take a lunch and regroup here in an hour.”

  The three officials exited the room, and Kendra followed right behind them. The group filed down a hall somewhere, and Kendra headed for the front door.