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

by C. J. Carella

  “Lord of the Dead,” Tava finished with a grin. “It is only proper to address you by the titles you have earned.”

  Hawke grimaced at that. Being a Twilight Templar was cool, and of course it was a secret. People mostly thought of him as a Paladin of Light, however. He didn’t know how to reconcile that with being the ruler of a Necromantic Stronghold. Paladin of Light. Lord of the Dead. Twilight Temple. That was a whole mess of stuff to put over your nameplate.

  He’d better figure it out soon, though. Like Tava said, none of this wasn’t a game.

  Fifty-Four

  “That was something else,” Nadia said when she met them at the Stronghold.

  The Sorceress/Paladin looked even paler than usual, and her Fae-marked eyes were actually glowing. Hawke turned on his Mana Sight and saw the Elf’s aura was surrounded by yellow light with the soft hues he had learned to recognize as belonging to the Element of Life. He couldn’t figure out what the light did, but his guess was that it was some sort of blessing. Hopefully. It could be a curse, too.

  “What happened?”

  “The chapel was right where you said. Remember that sacred vessel in the center? It was back.”

  “Did you touch it? I thought I said not to.”

  “That was okay. Vitara told me to. I did, which led to a brief meeting with the Triune Goddesses.”

  “All three of them at the same time? Jeez,” Hawke said.

  Meeting the deities one on one had been intimidating enough. He was glad he hadn’t gone through that. With his luck, he would have said or done something to piss off all three deities.

  “It was something, all right. Especially when I got into an argument with them.”

  “You what?”

  “About religion, of all things.”

  Tava was looking at the Sorceress like she had ascended to godhood, or gone completely bonkers. Most people in the Realms didn’t have private convos with deities. Hawke’s experiences had been pretty unique, although that might be changing. And they certainly didn’t get into arguments with them, not if they valued their lives and sanity.

  “My father used to say that the best way to ruin a social gathering was to discuss religion or politics,” he said.

  “They were pretty understanding, actually. They even agreed that there probably was a Creator who had made everything, including them. They didn’t know for sure, though. Kind of funny to hear a pagan goddess admit she doesn’t know the answers to the more important philosophical questions.”

  “Okay. What did they do to you? You are glowing.”

  “I swore to uphold the Tenets, just like you did. And also, to keep my Fae side under control. That may become a problem as we go up in levels. Sidhe blood tends to make people surrender to their baser instincts, or so the goddesses told me.”

  “Great. Poor impulse control and superpowers.”

  Come to think of it, he had been acting pretty impulsively since landing on the Realms. Maybe it wasn’t just his natural dumbassery but his Elf-Fae side making him do crazy stuff like getting into polygamy or chasing Necromancers into their sanctum sanctorum. It’d be nice to have an excuse for his behavior. None of that absolved him from trying to do better, of course.

  “Yeah,” Nadia agreed. “And we have Awakened that side of ours, so it’s likely to get worse. Keep that in mind. Anyway, I received a special blessing. A permanent one, at least for as long as I stick to the Tenets. It gives me a 25% bonus to my Life magic. Healing, damage, range, everything. Not too shabby.”

  “You can be the party’s top healer and DPS, from now on,” Hawke said. “Congrats.”

  “How about you? What did you do at the other temples?”

  “We just came back from the Temple of Darkness,” Hawke said. “It was interesting, but nothing like the Death Temple.”

  Unlike the majestic pyramid of Death, the Tenebra Temple was only slightly bigger than the shrine of Vitara, and was nestled right against the seventh floor of the tower. At first glance, it just looked like a dark corner, so deep in shadow that you couldn’t see into it. When Hawke walked in, he saw an obelisk in the center of a circular room. The obelisk was covered with writing in several styles: he recognized the Roman and Fey alphabets, Dwarven runes, Goblinoid pictographs, and the glowing letters of Celestial. He couldn’t make out most of the words, of course. Nothing was easy to understand when it came to Darkness.

  He felt the presence of Tenebra, but only as a vague sense of being watched. As he approached the obelisk, two notifications popped up:

  You Have Been Offered Two Quests:

  Quest #1: Uplift the Temple

  This monument to Darkness was largely ignored by the previous ruler of the Stronghold. As an Adept of Darkness and follower of Tenebra, you have a duty to correct this.

  Objective: Raise the Temple to Level II.

  Rewards: 1,000 Experience, 10 gold. Gain Mastery over Darkness spells (+20% to damage and effects). Gain +100 Reputation with Tenebra.

  Accept: Y/N?

  Quest #2: Become a Temple Hierarch

  Paladins and Priests of Darkness, as well as Twilight Templars, can become Hierarchs of a Temple. As Hierarch, you have access to its daily Mana, but using it will make it unavailable for Stronghold purposes.

  Objective: Link your spirit to the Temple.

  Optional Objective (Mana Channeler): By sharing some of your power through your connection with the Temple, you can create a Node of Darkness here. The process is lengthy and requires a Mana sacrifice, but you will automatically become the Master of the new Node.

  Rewards: 1,200 Experience, Access to the Temple’s daily Mana generation (100 Mana/day). Gain +50 Reputation with Tenebra.

  Optional Rewards: 500 Experience, 1,000 Experience towards Node Mastery, Access to a Darkness-attuned Node (Level 1).

  Accept: Y/N?

  “I accepted both of them,” Hawke said. “I just have to figure out how to create a Node. The Quest didn’t give me instructions. But the Death Temple is the one that worries me.”

  “Yeah, that’s a bit of a pickle,” Nadia said after Hawke explained his options. “Getting on a Maker’s bad side is not a good idea, not when all of us are low-level scrubs. Well-geared scrubs, sure, but we’re not even max level for the Common Realm, which is like the kiddie pool of this universe.”

  He had to nod in agreement. Even with all his extra advantages, fighting the Necromancer had been an ordeal. A couple of mistakes or a bit of bad luck, and he would have been the one respawning. He had a lot of spells or abilities, but still didn’t have the proper training to use them effectively. Looking back, he realized that in the heat of battle he had forgotten to use several spells and abilities that might have let him win more quickly and decisively. He kept going for his old reliable spells and often neglected to use more powerful ones. That was probably why it took so much experience to reach a Milestone; to give him time to learn how to use the abilities he already had.

  A quick look at his ‘character sheet’ showed him just how many abilities he was leaving unused:

  Name: Hawke Lightseeker. Race: Half-Elf, Eternal Class: Twilight Templar, Monster Trainer. Level: 14

  Experience/Next Level: 5,929/30,000

  Attributes:

  Strength 26(49), Dexterity 20(43), Constitution 37(59), Intelligence 22(26), Spirit 22(28), Perception 24(30), Willpower 20(26), Charisma 20(22)

  Characteristics:

  Health: 492 (19.9/min)

  Mana: 562(862) (20.8/min)

  Endurance 454 (19.9/min)

  Identity: 18

  Skills

  Blacksmithing 3, Climbing 2, Detect Traps 3, Disarm Traps 2, Dodge 7, Lore 4, Shield 7, Spear 4, Stealth 4, Survival 3, Sword 7(21), Swimming 2, Tracking 3

  Languages: Common Fey, Vulgate, Lesser Celestial

  Perks

  Aegis of the Fae, Dark Vision, Elementalist, Mana Sight, Sidhe Caster, Sidhe Speed Casting, Speed-Casting (Life and Light Magic), True Sight, Undying, Unlimited Potential
<
br />   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, Enlightenment, Dark Tendrils, Deadly Roots, Fireball, Gift of the Martyr, Growth, Hammer of Light, Hammer of Twilight, Healing Blows, Healing Wave, In Extremis, Indomitable Aura, Lesser Healing, Nature’s Grip, Nature’s Guardian, Sense Life, Shadow Leech, Shadow Step, Shield of Light, Shroud of Darkness, Shroud of Twilight, Simple Spell Inscription, Touch of Light, Transference, Twilight Mantle, Twilight Step.

  Special Abilities

  Analyze Monster, Dual-Casting, Evolve Monster, Greater Bond, Identify Spell, Mana Channeling II, Dispel Magic I, Node Mastery III (Node Recall, Node Sight, Node Travel), Ritual Magic I, Seal Inscription I, Spell Deconstruction, Spellcraft II, Stop Monster, Summon Monster, Tame Monster, Tantric Touch, Timeless Mind, Tulpa Creation I

  Arcane Vocations

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

  He needed to practice. A lot. Using the same spell rotation for every problem would not work against powerful enemies. He needed to train with his spells and abilities until they became instinctive and he picked the right one for the challenge at hand. To say nothing of maybe training a Monster one of those days, instead of leaving his second Class largely unused.

  “I’ll leave the Death Temple Quests alone for now,” he said. “Let’s see to the prisoners and then get some rest before we take the Eternals to Orom.”

  Fifty-Five

  Gzzatt (Murk Arachnoid)

  Level 9 Warrior

  Health 270 Mana 156 Endurance 248

  The Arachnoid in the cell watched Hawke through the slit on the door, its legs bent in preparation for a leap. If he opened the door, the Warrior would spring into action and do its best to kill him before its inevitable death. He picked that up through his Mana Sight: the spider-man’s emotions had a colder and more detached undertone than other species, but they weren’t that hard to identify. Gzzatt had resigned itself to die and only wanted to take a few more enemies with it.

  “The Necromancer is dead,” he told the Arachnoid in Common Fey.

  A series of buzzes and clicks were its response.

  “He – he is a male – says he is glad the corpse-desecrator is dead,” Nadia translated. “And he only wishes that Domort had lived long enough for any fertile females in his village to implant their eggs in his stomach so a hundred hatchlings ate him alive when they were born.”

  “He seems nice.”

  “He was the champion of his village,” Nadia added as Gzzatt proceeded to go into a long speech. “Far to the west. He killed several Wolf-Men during a counterraid. The Necromancer didn’t like that, so Gzzatt surrendered himself to pay for the crime, in order to spare his tribe.”

  “I killed Domort and now rule the Stronghold,” Hawke told him. “Will you swear an oath to keep the peace? We will let you go back to your people if you do.”

  Conflicting emotions coursed through the Arachnoid as he clicked-buzzed his answer: anger, sadness, a tiny glimmer of hope.

  “His village rejected him,” Nadia translated; her eyes widened in surprise. “He has nowhere to go. But since I have the symbols of the old empire, he wants to pledge himself into my service.”

  “Up to you,” Hawke said. “If I understand how that sort of thing works, you have to provide his food and gear, and he will fight for you.”

  “Outcasts can make loyal followers,” Tava said. “He will stand to rise in your service, which will restore his standing in the eyes of his people. When you release him from it, he may have a better chance of finding a home among them.”

  “This is a very Edgar Rice Burroughs sort of situation, except those usually involved a manly man having other manly men swearing to follow him,” Nadia mused. “I think I like it.”

  With Saturnyx’s help, Nadia came up with an oath of service for one year and one day, binding Gzzatt to her service as her bodyguard. Hawke released the Arachnoid and he stayed by her side, asking only for a weapon. Hawke looked through his Inventory and found a double-headed axe with +3 bonuses to Strength and Constitution, as well as a helmet that raised Perception by 4; he handed them over, getting a lot of buzzes and clicks of thanks in return. Nadia had a handful of Arachnoid suits of armor taken as spoils of war; she gave the best one to her new henchman.

  “There you go,” Hawke told her. “You’ll have your own private army in no time.”

  “I don’t know how the politics are going to play out, but I guess it’s nice to have an ally.”

  They moved to the next cell:

  Wolf-Man (Fae Mutation)

  Level 8 Hybrid

  Health 220 Mana 90 Endurance 220

  The next prisoner understood Common Fey but communicated in growls and grunts that not even Saturnyx could decipher. After asking a bunch of ‘yes/no’ questions, they got a sense that the were-creature had been handed over to the Necromancer to be an experimental subject. Having seen Greg’s laboratory, they all knew the likely fate of the furry would have been. The Wolf-Man appeared to be eager to return to his people, and swore never to attack the people of Orom, the Stronghold, or the Arachnoids without provocation. After that, Hawke released him and led him out of the cells; a couple of Volunteers went off to guide the furry out of the Arachnoid caves. Hawke hoped the former prisoner might become an ambassador of goodwill or something.

  So far, the Stronghold interface hadn’t shown him what sort of deal the Necromancer had with the Wolf-Men to the west. He was probably going to go to the plateau on the other side of the mountains and either work out a deal with the furballs or drive them out. Couldn’t have an army of hostile werewolves living next door.

  That left the Fae Scout:

  (Unknown), High Fae

  Level 7 Scout

  Health 148 Mana 175 Endurance 153

  “Ah, you are back!” the nameless Fae said as soon as he saw Hawke. “I will be happy to be released now.”

  “I have some questions for you,” Hawke told him.

  “And when I answer them, you will release me?”

  “No. When I have the information I require from you, I will decide what to do.”

  The Scout’s smile became slightly more predatory. “An interrogation, followed by summary judgment. Not very hospitable, are we?”

  “You are not my guest,” was Hawke’s curt reply. “I have not extended guest-rights to you. You are a foundling, with no standing on my Stronghold.”

  Saturnyx had warned him about that. If he even accidentally treated the Fae as a guest, he would be bound to release him whenever the Scout demanded it, or suffer some nasty magical penalties for breaking the rules of hospitality. When it came to the High Fae, even common courtesy was wrapped up in magic and full of hidden meanings and traps.

  “Is this your Stronghold now? What of the Eternal known as Gregory Ballantine, who imprisoned me here?”

  “You have it wrong, Scout. I am the one who asks the questions here.”

  “Ask them, then.”

  “Who do you serve?”

  “At the moment, no one. I am a prisoner.”

  It’s going to be like that, isn’t it? “Who did you serve before you were captured?”

  “A Lady of the Unseelie Court.”

 

  Hawke nodded and went on. “What was your mission?”

  “To learn more about Gregory Ballantine, an Eternal from Earth, one of the Outer Realms. My mistress wished to repay a debt.”

  One of Domort’s memories flashed through Hawke’s head. “What sort of debt? Did he, I don’t know, enslave her and sell her off to a magic merchant?”

  The Fae’s expression changed immediately upon hearing his words. He went from a fairly humanoid specimen with a mean smile to looking like a monster from a ho
rror movie, with a scowl full of sharp teeth that hadn’t been there a moment later, coupled with a murderous glare that made Hawke glad there was a metal door between them.

  “To even say those words is to give great offense to the one I serve.”

  “So, the answer is yes.”

  With a visible effort, the Scout composed himself; his face became humanlike once more, but Hawke realized the Scout’s appearance was little more than an illusion.

  “She owes him a great debt. That is all I will say.”

  Looks like this lady and Domort had some beef that has nothing to do with us.

 

  “Well, Gregory is dead,” Hawke told the Fae. “All the way dead. With that in mind, I am prepared to set up conditions for your release.”

  “I would be delighted to bargain with you,” the Scout replied. “But there is a small problem with such an agreement.”

  “Which is?”

  “Gregory Ballantine, or Domort the Necromancer as he is generally known, is not dead.”

  Fifty-Six

  “Stick close together, and you will be fine,” Hawke told the assembled Eternals and their babysitters. “You all have the basic skills you need to stay alive. If you need to fight or run, don’t overthink things; let your character’s instincts take over. Trust me, they will keep you alive much better than anything you learned on Earth, unless you happened to be a Navy SEAL back home.”

  “How dangerous is this going to be?” Moe Butts asked. The former YouTuber had calmed down quite a bit and wasn’t yelling all the time anymore, but still sounded worried. They all were, and with good reason.

  “Not very. There are a few Dire Beasts in the forest, but they are unlikely to attack a group of people this size.”

  Olaf Goode raised his hand. “How about the town? I was a Medieval History major in college. Medieval societies were pretty violent.”

  “Orom is a civilized town. Nobody there is going to start trouble with you. And I expect none of you will start trouble with them, either.”