Lord of the Dead: A LitRPG Saga (The Eternal Journey Book 2)

by C. J. Carella

  “How about Alchemical potions?”

  “I have read the books of the Craft and its Lore. Such potions do exist, although they are beyond my skill even if I had the ingredients, which I do not. Finding the herbs and other components would be an ordeal in itself. And you would need no less than a fifteenth level Alchemist to prepare such a concoction. In any case, their fees would be several hundred gold with the ingredients. Thousands otherwise.”

  Five thousand gold, or finding some extremely rare ingredients. Or learning the spell himself, maybe. He had access to Life magic, after all. Make three more levels, pick up the spell, and he would be happy to sacrifice fifty Mana to bring Kinto back to full health. We’ll call that Plan A, he told himself.

  “Thank you, Alchemist Flava. I think I know what to do.”

  “I wish I had better tidings to give you, your Holy Eminence. Not least because I wished to ask a favor from you.”

  “I make no promises, other than to hear your need,” Hawke replied formally. No more jumping into things without learning more.

  “Wisely said. My daughters and I often travel into the woods, seeking new herbs to bring to our shop. While we cultivate much of what we use, some plants can grow only in a state of nature. Of late, our travels have taken us north, to the Shadowy Foothills.”

  Tava had mentioned the area; she had also said that the woods there were ‘hostile,’ whatever that meant.

  “One does not venture deep into the woods leading to the distant Dragonback Mountains, as they are inhabited by beings that care not for outsiders. Even Old Urso and his Dire brethren never tried to claim that territory. My daughters and I explore on the outskirts, picking the young flowers and leaves that grow there. Richer rewards abound deeper in, but the dangers are proportionally greater.”

  Hawke nodded to the Alchemist. That was the recurring theme of the Lands.

  “On my last trip, a few days ago, I noticed a change. The ancient woods are pushing forward. Great trees I once glimpsed far into the distance are now standing on the periphery of the grasslands. They are not alone. The forest is marching south, at speeds too slow for most mortals to perceive, but apparent to the likes of me.”

  Marching forests. How Lords of the Rings-like. Maybe they’ve got Ents in the pants.

 

  “Do you think this could threaten Orom?”

  “Yes. Orom, and all those who till the soil or cut down living trees. I fear a great power is stirring there. The Fae or their Nature Gods may be responsible, or the culprit may be a darker force.”

  All I wanted was to help my father-in-law, Hawke thought, knowing when a Quest was going to drop in on him. Oh, well, that was how you leveled up. “After I have concluded my business in the Sunset Range, I will visit the Shadowy Foothills and try to learn more about what is happening there.”

  Quest Accepted: Explore the Shadowy Foothills

  Something is rising in the deep woods that cover the Shadowy Foothills north of Orom. Flava the Alchemist had asked you to investigate.

  Quest Objective: Enter the forest and explore it for at least one day.

  Rewards: +75 Reputation with Flava the Alchemist, 250 XP, 1 gold.

  Penalties for Failure: -25 Reputation with Flava the Alchemist, -10 Renown with the Town of Orom.

  “I could not ask for more, your holy eminence.”

  Well, at least things won’t get boring even after I take care of Domort, Hawke thought as he headed for his next meeting.

  * * *

  “Good morning, Antana. What’s the good word?”

  The Mistress of the Coin looked unhappy. “Today? I would say the good word is ‘Insolvency.’”

  “All right, let’s work on that,” he said. “What’s the money situation.”

  “I hired three tax collectors, but so far have returned from their travels with little more than coppers on the gold owned and long lists of excuses. Most business and property owners still claim their own revenues are down because of the recent unpleasantness.”

  “They have a point. We can have the collectors find out who is actively trying to cheat us and who is just having a hard time, can’t we?”

  “I hired men – and a woman – who owned their own businesses. All three had their shops destroyed and needed the work. They can tell the difference between the unfortunate and scofflaws. And they were told to use no threats or, what did you call them? Strong-arm tactics.”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to start a reign of terror,” Hawke said, coming to a decision. “Tell you what. Let’s give everyone a six-month tax holiday, to get things back into shape. How short will that make us?”

  “Without the tax holiday you propose, we already were spending close to a hundred gold over revenues each month. With it, and adding the expense of buying food instead of taking payment in kind from the neighboring villages, our outlays total one hundred and sixty gold a month. The treasury will be depleted by the beginning of next month.”

  “Okay. How much is this worth?” Hawke asked, producing the gold ingot he had collected back on his first day in the Realms, and placing it on the table in front of her.

  “That is a full gold bar! Is that pure?”

  “You tell me.”

  Antana picked the thirty-pound bar with a grunt of effort and placed it in the biggest scale she had on the table, adding counterweights until they balanced out. “Pure gold, it is. Which, if melted and coined – luckily we have the equipment for such – will yield eighteen hundred and seven gold denars.”

  “Holy crap!”

  He’d been walking around with a fortune in gold and he’d been counting pennies – well, copper denars – when he had first arrived at Orom. He also had two silver ingots. Just to be an ass, he placed one of them on the table. “How much for this silver brick?”

  “Far less, of course.” She weighed the silver and pronounced it pure as well. “Nine and a half libras of silver will yield the equivalent of sixty-eight gold and four silver denars. Six hundred and eighty-four silver coins, in other words.”

  “Good enough. If you can turn all of that into coins, put all eighteen hundred and seventy-five gold in the treasury, which should cover expenses for over a year, right?”

  “Added to the amount already in the treasury, and without any revenues, that is correct.”

  Easy come, easy go, Hawke thought.

  “Well, that should tide us over during the tax holiday. In six months, we can start oppressing the taxpayers again, although I will make time to figure out if we are squeezing people fairly. And the mines will be opening soon. Our cut should be pretty good.”

  “Wait. All this gold and silver should be treated as a loan. I can draft the papers with the standard terms.”

  “Fair enough,” Hawke said. “Except I want the loan to be at zero interest. Getting the money back would be awesome at some point. Make it payable over ten years, starting next year.”

  “This is very unusual. Most Prefects enrich themselves through their position. You have given up a princely sum instead.”

  “Well, I was an Adventurer before being a Prefect, and still am. I make money by killing nasty critters. Beating the Lair netted me a whole bunch of gold. I had to kill him a lot of monsters to get it, of course.”

  “Of course,” Antana said, looking a little pale. “The Arbiters reward killers quite well.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Hawke told her. “And I am sorry I did.”

  “The Common Realm is a land of strife,” the merchant said, composing herself. “In my travels, I have had to loose crossbow bolts or swing a staff at bandit and beast. Never killed anyone myself, but I have seen it happen. It has never stopped being something I find unpleasant.”

  “And I made it sound like it was a simple transaction. My apologies again. Where I was from, I had never even seen a dead body. I arrived at the Realms atop a mound of c
orpses. My experiences have… hardened me to such things, I guess.”

  She nodded in understanding. “Of course. And without people like you, willing and able to keep the peace, people like me would have a much harder time living from day to day.”

  Hawke nodded. The Mistress of Coin might not like violence, but she knew how the world worked.

  “But, getting back to business, your eminence, this loan will alleviate our current problems, and I believe things will improve greatly over the next six months. Even if you choose to make some adjustments, our revenues should meet our expenditures by then. Assuming good harvests and no other crises.”

  I wouldn’t hold my breath about that last part, Hawke thought but didn’t say out loud. No sense in upsetting Antana.

  Twenty-Nine

  “I wish I were going with you,” Kinto said after Hawke conducted a review of the Town Volunteers.

  “Someone has to mind the store. I almost left Marko and Calvo behind as well, but they need the experience.”

  “Take good care of my children,” the old Hunter said looking over at Tava and Gosto, who were checking their gear down at the courtyard. “How fast have they grown!”

  “I will. I’ll swear to it.”

  “No need. You never have to affirm your word for me, Hawke Lightseeker, for I know it is good.”

  “That means a lot, man.”

  The last couple of days had come and gone in a blur. Hawke had raised his Arcane Blacksmith level and his Blacksmithing Skill to four, mostly by spending hours and hours helping Katro fix damaged gear, forge a few simple weapons, and listen to the smith’s steady talk about the craft. Katro himself had reached level seven, partly as a result of fighting Undead during the taking of Orom, but gaining his last level for repairing high-quality weapons and armor. Everybody’s stuff was at one hundred percent.

  Hawke had selected twenty volunteers; another ten were temporarily assigned to the Town Guard, and everyone involved got the same pay as the regulars. That took a bite out of Orom’s gold reserves, but he hoped to make it all back from looting Domort’s little house of horrors. Robbing your enemies after killing them was the gamers’ way. Everybody from the Lair party (except Desmond, of course) had contributed the Enchanted Quality naginatas they had found to the war effort, so everybody who knew how to use a spear or axe now had a weapon that did a good deal of damage and also increased Strength, Dexterity and Constitution by two each.

  One of Hawke’s goals was to eventually turn the guard into an elite force, turning as many of its members as possible into Adventurers. Some of them would no doubt quit and head off to seek their fortunes after they picked up a couple of levels, but he was okay with that. The ones who stayed would be dedicated to defending their homes and families.

 

  And you’ll point out every flaw you see, I know.

  The Volunteers were all wearing green tabards over their chain mail suits. Hawke and Kinto had selected the fittest people in the bunch, people with decent stats who were also stubborn enough not to drop out after Kinto had them do five-mile runs with bags filled with rocks on their backs. Half of them had crossbows, the rest naginatas; Hawke had seen to it everybody had at least one Minor Healing Potion. They had done a little bit of training, but Hawke knew the small army was too inexperienced to trust in a battle. He had no plans to use them to fight in the front lines; they were there to help keep watch and protect the small army’s camps while the strike force went and did most of the fighting. First Sergeant Marko would lead them.

  His friends were gathered to one side. Alba, Gosto, Nadia and Tava, with Rabbit looming over them. They and the five Dwarves of Korgam’s Company formed the core of the small army. Korgam and Daggon were melee fighters, Crommen was a Battle-Bard who did both support and fighting, and Taggan and Egg were a Stone Mystic and Priest, respectively. Give Hawke and them a narrow front without flanks to worry about, and they could fend off an army.

  Time to give a short speech and get going. They were wasting sunlight. Before he spoke, he added everyone in the Volunteers, except Rabbit and Korgam’s band, to his Adventuring Party, turning the young men in the group into first-level Warriors and improving everyone else’s level, including his own. That was only possible because all of them had joined his Guild, removing the need for level requirements when forming a Party. Onlookers gasped as the young men seemed to grow before their eyes. The effect was subtle – nobody could put a finger on the change in the now first-level Volunteers – but noticeable. Many of them looked at each other in wonder as they saw status boxes over everyone’s heads for the first time. Hawke had given them a taste of life on the Path to Power.

  “Domort, the Necromancer up in his Stronghold on the Sunset Range, is our enemy,” he began, pointing to the pale tower that was barely visible alongside a distant peak to the west. “Domort woke up the monster who turned your friends and neighbors into vampires. Domort used Prefect Felix’s love for his dead family to trick him into turning against his own people. Domort sent monsters to walk on your streets or strike from the skies. Many are dead because of him. People were afraid to even say his name. We are not afraid anymore. What is our enemy’s name?”

  “Domort!” hundreds of voices echoed. Beside the Town Guard and the Volunteers, it looked as if half the town had shown up for the parade.

  “That is what he calls himself. What is his real name?”

  “Greggy!” everyone shouted, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar English words Hawke had shared with them. “Greggy the Gaming Geek!”

  Hope you are listening, dickhead, Hawke thought. Get good and angry, because soon you are going to be scared, and a bit after that, you aren’t going to feel anything.

  “We shall return, and Greggy will no longer trouble us,” he concluded. “Let’s roll.”

  He, Tava and Rabbit led the way, followed by the Sterns, who looked very impressive in their armor and fighting gear; the Dwarves were armed to the teeth, and all had hit level seven or eight in the past few days. The Volunteers came next, led by Marko; they marched in an uneven line and weren’t even trying to walk in lockstep, but they looked dangerous enough. The rest of the party followed. People gathered on the town walls and cheered the small army until it disappeared from sight.

  * * *

  While they walked along Orom’s main road, Hawke checked his ‘character sheet’ one more time:

  Name: Hawke Lightseeker. Race: Half-Elf, Eternal. Classes: Twilight Templar, Monster Trainer. Level: 12 (Effective Level 13 through Generalship I)

  Experience/Next Level: 5,929/16,000

  Attributes:

  Strength 26(45), Dexterity 20(39), Constitution 31(49), Intelligence 20(22), Spirit 20(24), Perception 24(28), Willpower 18(22), Charisma 20

  Characteristics (Effective Level 13 through Generalship I):

  Health: 387 (17.9/min)

  Mana: 420(720) (18.4/min)

  Endurance 354 (17.9/min)

  Identity: 17

  Skills

  Blacksmithing 4, Climbing 2, Detect Traps 3, Disarm Traps 2, Dodge 7, Lore 3, Shield 7, Spear 4, Stealth 4, Survival 3, Sword 7(19), Swimming 2, Tracking 3

  Languages: Common Fey, Vulgate, Lesser Celestial

  Perks

  Aegis of the Fae, Dark Vision, Mana Sight, Sidhe Caster, Sidhe Speed Casting, Speed-Casting (Life and Light Magic), True Sight, Undying, Unlimited Potential

  Spells

  Animate Shadow, Armor of Life, Aura of Light, Bless Crops, Bolt of Darkness, Bolt of Life, Bulwark of Light, Burning Light, Consecrated Ground, Dark Step, Dark Tendrils, Enlightenment, Deadly Roots, Gift of the Martyr, Growth, Hammer of Light, Hammer of Twilight, Healing Blows, Healing Wave, Lesser Healing, Nature’s Grip, Nature’s Guardian, Sense Life, Shadow Leech, Shadow Step, Shadow Transformation, Shield of Light, Shroud of Darkness, Shroud of Twilight, Touch of Light,
Transference, Twilight Mantle, Twilight Step.

  Special Abilities

  Analyze Monster, Evolve Monster, Greater Bond, Mana Channeling II, Node Mastery I (Node Recall), Ritual Magic I, Spell Deconstruction, Spellcraft II, Stop Monster, Summon Monster, Tame Monster, Tulpa Creation I

  Arcane Vocations

  Blacksmith (Level Four), Mining (Level One), Skinning (Level One), Steward (Level Two)

  The extra level he gained from Leadership only affected his Characteristics, with the exception of Identity. He was still a lot tougher, thanks to clearing the Lair. He only wished that Desmond was still with them. The Warrior’s strength and deadly skills would be missed in the days ahead.

  * * *

  For most of the morning, the Volunteers traveled on country roads linking the town to outlying farms and villages until midday. After breaking for lunch, they advanced into the Highlands Forest. According to Tava, there was a ford about eight miles to the southwest, shallow enough to let a large body of men cross the Auric River quickly and safely. She and Rabbit scouted ahead, letting Hawke know of any obstacles or problems through their link with Saturnyx. Gosto summoned his scouting Nature’s Guardian; it only had a hundred-and-sixty Health, but was shaped like an eagle and capable of flight. He and Hawke took turns using the spell when it wasn’t on cooldown, giving themselves almost continuous air coverage over the warband and keeping an eye out for Harpies or other airborne dangers.

  Moving thirty-odd people through the woods, even an old-growth forest that had plenty of clear space under the large trees’ thick canopies, was slower than marching on a road. The group stopped just after reaching the Auric, an hour or so before sunset. The looming mountains to the west were already obscuring the dying sunlight, turning the late afternoon into dusk. Tava led the group to a campsite on a slight rise by the river, big enough to fit a couple dozen people.

  Hawke reached into his inventory and produced two cauldrons filled with the Copper Kettle’s best stew, still hot enough to burn your mouth if you weren’t careful. He and Nadia were carrying four cauldrons each, which would provide warm meals for a few days. Everybody got a steaming bowl of stew, rich with chunks of lambs, potatoes, and other vegetables, as well as a large chunk of bread, plus whatever other foodstuffs they had brought along. The Volunteers ate happily before setting camp for the night.