Strength Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Strength Build Cycle) Page 7

The dwarf spat again.

  “That’s the stupidest fucking story I’ve heard in months. Enjoy the night voyage, phantom …”

  The dwarf was about to loose a bolt when the front door squeaked open.

  “It’s a story I can believe, Panny,” said an ancient-looking man in a simple black robe. His wiry grey beard almost reached the ground but there wasn’t a single hair on his scalp.

  The dwarf muttered something under his breath as he rounded behind Nick and prodded him forward. The pixel runner didn’t need further encouragement. In truth he was curious to hear what the Robed One had to say.

  The interior of the cottage needed a good airing but was homely enough.

  “Make us a cup of tea, will you, Panny?” the wizard said.

  The dwarf knelt by the roaring hearth, grumbling to himself. Shaking his head in disgust, the wizard gestured to an empty stool. Nick took the seat, noting the sea of sealed documents around him.

  “Eleven years worth of correspondence,” the wizard said proudly. “I can’t deliver it, but I continue to file my reports.”

  The dwarf handed Nick a cup of hot tea. He sniffed at it - cinnamon, vanilla, a hint of aniseed. It smelled delicious.

  “You didn’t make it too hot, did you?” the wizard asked accusingly. “You do tend to over-brew, Panny.”

  “Next time do it yourself,” Panny grumbled as he headed outside. The sounds of vigorous whittling drifted through the door. Nick got the impression these two had been together for a long time.

  “So,” the wizard said, peering down his nose at Nick. “How does a young man like you find himself on the wrong side of a king’s portrait?”

  Nick didn’t quite know where to start.

  “The name’s Banda, by the way,” the old man added. “Formerly of the Duskstar Order.”

  He glanced around at all the paperwork he’d amassed over the years.

  “I suppose I’m still with them, in a way. Writing is the only thing that keeps me sane.”

  “What happened here, Banda?” Nick asked, sensing that the wizard’s story might help clarify his own path.

  “Well, you know about the attempted Reclamation, right?”

  Nick shook his head. “I’m new to Durandor.”

  Banda bowed his head.

  “Around fifteen years ago humans lived happily in this forest,” he said wistfully. “King Andaran invested much in relocating war refugees here. Back then it seemed like heavenly, virgin forest. How wrong we were.”

  “The Spiderling,” Nick guessed, sipping his tea. It was probably the best, most refreshing tea he’d ever had. His HP, which had been sitting on around 80%, rose steadily to max.

  “The Spiderling indeed,” Banda said somberly. “My order had some inkling he lived here, in the oldest part of the forest. But we never imagined how strong he’d become.”

  “Who is the Spiderling?” Nick asked. “What’s his objective?”

  “His objective?” Banda snorted. “To defend his home, boy. To him, we are the evil in this forest. He is not of this world. That mind of his works in ways we cannot conceive, which is probably why he was able to defeat my brothers and sisters.”

  “The survivors have been scattered,” Nick observed.

  “Precisely,” Banda said. “The King deployed the Duskstar Order as soon as he learned of the threat here. In our arrogance we spread out to begin a war of attrition. We thought our combined powers would gradually wear the Spiderling down. The reverse is true.”

  Banda’s eyes had been hollowed out by years of bitterness and grief. This was a broken wizard, devoid of confidence and hope.

  “You can’t leave?” Nick asked.

  Banda shook his head sadly.

  “My dear boy, the Duskstar Order operate under a strict code of honor. We failed the King when the Spiderling defeated us. If we left now, the evil in this place would be free to slither anywhere in Tyrennia.”

  Nick sipped at his tea. He couldn’t linger, but he felt this wizard was crucial to his survival.

  “The King’s dead, Banda,” he said. “Killed by his own son Jannibar.”

  Banda closed his eyes. It was clear that one of his last remaining shards of hope had died.

  “That is grave news indeed. He was a very good man, Andaran. I shall always regret not being able to repay the faith he showed us.”

  “They say the Prince came back from Bariz with some kind of sickness,” Nick said. “Ghouls began appearing around the same time.”

  Banda’s eyes widened. “Have you verified this?”

  “I killed one myself,” Nick said with a trace of pride.

  “Most interesting,” the wizard said, deep in thought. “There’s a tomb in Bariz where the Lich Queen is buried. Could it be that Jannibar, in seeking to kill his father, has removed the sacred rags from her grave? If so, an ancient Covenant has been broken. Every one of her servants will have risen to retrieve what was stolen.”

  Nick nodded, finally piecing the story together.

  “He knew exactly what he was doing,” he said. “Jannibar turned the King’s portrait into a two-way portal. Ghouls and other creatures had direct access to the King’s private chamber.”

  Banda slapped a hand on his table.

  “No man has paid a higher price for power than Jannibar,” he exclaimed, showing the fire of a much younger man. “The Lich Queen will march on Durandor until her rags, all that remains of the enchanted gown she wore in ancient times, is hers once more. She must be stopped at the Tomb of the Fallen. She must be stopped in Bariz.”

  Nick noticed a flood of XP entering his tally. At last, he’d achieved a major quest-driven result! He allocated a point to STR as planned. Now it was time for action.

  “I need to find a way out of Duskstar,” he said, finishing his tea.

  “You seem a capable young man,” Banda said. “Alas, you seem unsuited to the magical items I possess. I can give you Panny, my long-suffering assistant. He’s been itching to leave this place for years.”

  Nick’s heart lurched. A companion! He had mixed feelings about that. Sometimes it was safer to tackle RPGs alone. But then again, Duskstar Forest might throw up a boss he needed help with.

  “I’m grateful,” Nick said. “But I must leave now.”

  He waited while Panny collected his things. The dwarf wasn’t a melee fighter but some kind of Brigand. His primary weapon was the crossbow, but he had a series of throwing daggers tucked into his belt.

  The dwarf seemed happy to leave the wizard without another word. Banda stood at the doorway with a curious expression. There was renewed hope there, but something like envy too.

  Nick and Panny settled into an easy rhythm as they padded through the ferny undergrowth. Fingers of cloying mist and an owl’s mournful call did nothing to settle Nick’s nerves as he peered through the gloom, sword at the ready.

  “Where are you from, Panny?” he asked his companion. Anything to break the oppressive silence.

  “Hammerhorst,” came the abrupt reply. “I offered to serve Andaran’s Reclamation Host over twelve years ago. When the Spiderling gained ascendancy over the Duskstar Order, I elected to protect Banda. Here I stayed.”

  The bitterness in the dwarf’s voice was palpable.

  “What creatures cause you trouble?” Nick asked. He’d already spent ninety minutes in Duskstar and needed to begin farming.

  Panny spat. “Batwings. Occasional ghoul. Mostly the Spiderling’s minions.”

  Nick was about to ask about them when the dwarf raised his hand.

  “Hold still,” he demanded. Panny advanced slowly through the undergrowth. He suddenly released a bolt and a large, bat-like creature fell from the upper canopy.

  “Batwing,” he muttered, nudging the leathery corpse with his boot. The best part? Nick was credited with the kill. Panny dispatched four more of the creatures before they could lay any bites. A tidy 600 XP all up. Nick was warming to the idea working in tandem with the Brigand!

  At len
gth the pair happened on a wide clearing dominated by rows of white marble columns. It looked like the ruins of a temple.

  “From a happier time,” Panny said. “When humans believed this place was good for them.”

  Another message appeared in Nick’s view.

  Spiderling: Why bother with all this, Nick? You know you won’t make it. Deep down you know you’re a loser. But if your opinion isn’t enough, your dear father thinks so too.

  “No,” Nick said involuntarily. What vindictive code had been written into this fucking game? If this was what Immersion was all about, he didn’t want a part of it. Neutron Syndicate was digging into his life to uncover his weaknesses, his vulnerabilities. And now their in-game “boss” knew how to wound him with words.

  Nick shed a quiet tear as he fell in behind Panny, such was the impact of the Spiderling’s message. Another part of him resisted, insisting that he was being fed poisonous lies. He chose to focus on that shred of comfort - the alternative was to give in to despair.

  “You alright, boy?” Panny asked gruffly.

  “I’ll be OK,” Nick replied, taking a deep breath. All he could do was press on and prove his mettle once and for all.

  “This place isn’t safe,” Panny muttered, eyes darting left and right.

  “Should we go round the long way?” Nick asked.

  A hideous screech tumbled from the tops of the pillars.

  “Too late,” Panny said. “I can cover you from range, but make sure I don’t get attacked.”

  Nick nodded and Panny withdrew to a grassy knoll at the rear of the clearing. An enemy was now visible - a stone gargoyle, flitting down to land. Three more joined it on the ground.

  Nick prepared for battle, engaging the gargoyles one at a time. Each of them carried halberds, which he knew had a long reach and could hit like a truck if used correctly. Therefore he hung back and fought the way he preferred - with patience and grit.

  Keeping his back to the pillars, he picked his way through the mob, striking only after his buckler repelled their halberd attacks. Occasionally an enemy would execute a leaping thrust, which taxed him a portion of HP, but for the most part he was able to counter-attack without taking damage.

  It wasn’t pretty, but by staying disciplined Nick was able to destroy two gargoyles before his HP dropped below 50%. Panny’s wooden bolts harried the enemy, not doing much damage but splitting the gargoyles’ attention.

  Whenever one of them looked like rushing the dwarf, Nick stepped in and landed a damaging blow. Before long four gargoyles lay dead on the grass. Nick was hoping for some loot, perhaps a halberd, but there was nothing on offer. Oakshield Junction did not rain loot on its players.

  Still, the gargoyles delivered 200 XP apiece, bringing Nick halfway to the next level.

  “Don’t get comfortable, kid,” Panny said, appearing by his side. “Around here, gargoyles are usually just minions.”

  Nick’s blood ran cold. “Minions for what?”

  One of the marble pillars cracked and toppled. Panny grabbed Nick and tackled him to the ground as the heavy stone embedded itself in the grass where he’d been standing. A long, white, worm-like creature with a grotesque, humanoid head slithered into the clearing.

  “Basilisk,” Panny spat. “Banda always suspected one lived here. Don’t look it in the eye!”

  Nick followed Panny behind the pillars while the basilisk wheeled around to face them. Avoiding direct eye contact was far, far easier said than done.

  “Use the pillars,” Panny advised. “I’ll set up from range.”

  And with that he was gone. Nick tried to compose himself but failed. That thing out there filled him with despair. In a panic he stepped around the pillar and landed two blows on the basilisk’s soft flank. Its HP drained by 25%, which emboldened Nick to attack further.

  He ran down to the tail and hacked away with abandon, but the basilisk executed a spinning move that brought it face to face with him. He had a second to witness how truly ugly it was before he stood frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move. All he could do was watch while the basilisk lashed with its tail and smashed him into a thousand pieces.

  Everything went dark.

  After an interminable pause, he re-spawned at a location he recognized. He sprinted east through the trees, noting his HP was now at a pathetic 25%. Oakshield Junction punished death severely, to the point where pixel runners couldn’t afford to die more than once or twice a session.

  He was rushing through a glade of brambles when two meaty hands grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “Thought I’d lost you there,” Panny grumbled. “The basilisk is hunting you.”

  It was true. The slimy thing was crashing its way through the ferns further east. For the moment it hadn’t seen them.

  “Hack its tail like you did before,” Panny said. “Then withdraw. I’ll get its attention.”

  Nick wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, but couldn’t conjure a better plan. He circled round to the south, watching the putrid beast advance through the trees. Its eyesight didn’t seem all that great, which he resolved to use to his advantage.

  Stepping into the path created by the basilisk, Nick advanced for a rear assault, chopping savagely with his longsword’s power attack. The basilisk’s sickening flesh quivered from the blow. Keeping his head down, Nick kept raining blows until his stamina bar was depleted. It left him wide open, but he trusted that Panny would act at the right moment.

  And so it proved. The basilisk had been poised to strike at Nick, who was now out of breath. An arrow struck the thing in the back of the neck, very nearly passing straight through. Nick could actually see the steel tip through the creature’s translucent flesh. Lightning damage crackled along the length of its body. Panny must’ve fired a special bolt.

  Squealing with rage, the basilisk doubled back and slithered after the retreating dwarf. It’s HP was now less than 25%. Nick waited until his stamina had returned before haring off after it. By the time he reached the monster it was striking at the prone dwarf, who could only raise a wooden buckler in defense.

  Nick scythed at the tail and the entire segment came free in a shower of ichor. He launched a running power cleave, reducing the basilisk to a mere sliver of HP.

  His stamina exhausted, Nick could only sit back on his haunches, avert his gaze and raise his shield feebly. He couldn’t believe he’d come so close only to die yet again.

  But his world didn’t go black. There was a wet pop as Panny sent a regular arrow into the basilisk’s shoulder. It was enough. The beast gave one final squeal before collapsing for good. Nick started breathing again as 700 glorious XP points were banked. Panny stood groggily, his HP at dangerous levels.

  “You need healing,” Nick said.

  “We’ll do it on the way, boy, don’t fuss,” came the typically gruff reply.

  Although he’d leveled up, Nick had a rule that all available loot had to be collected first. You just never knew what you’d get. Very occasionally he got something worth sending the stats in a different direction.

  The basilisk’s loot included an item that might, if he wasn’t on the clock, have been a game-changer. It was a bone katana that delivered bonus poison damage. It required a DEX of 19, which was pretty much out of reach for a STR build like Nick. He just couldn’t afford to abandon his usual setup, however tantalizing the weapon was.

  He’d seen plenty of gamers drift from the builds they were good at just for pretty, exotic weapons. It was like leaving your under-appreciated, loving girlfriend for a hollow one-night-stand. Bad RPG business. He faithfully allocated another point to STR.

  “Thanks,” Nick said as Panny limped up to the basilisk’s broken body. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “We’ve opened up a direct path into the Mound,” Panny said grimly. “We should take it before night falls.”

  Nick blinked - it was indeed getting gloomier under the forest canopy. He’d assumed Oakshield Junction didn’t have a diurnal
cycle, but then again yesterday’s session had consumed less than a day of in-game time. The prospect of night in Duskstar Forest filled him with dread.

  “What’s the Mound?” he asked.

  “The Spiderling’s lair,” Panny said casually as he arranged his possessions and began heading east.

  “Wait a minute - his lair?” Nike asked incredulously.

  “You want to leave the forest, don’t you boy?” Panny replied. “The only way is through the Mound. Ravens tend to mass at the top.”

  Nick didn’t like the plan one bit. He found himself following Panny nonetheless. He felt he could trust him. As far as you could trust a dynamic collection of text strings in an RPG.

  Light was fading by the minute as the pair reached a contemplative glade. Of course, it wasn’t as peaceful as it looked. Panny flushed several small, gnome-like creatures from the bushes for Nick to smite. His ability to see things in the foliage that Nick couldn’t was proving to be critical.

  The forest gnomes didn’t yield much XP but Nick was able to farm specialist rogue armor and a few daggers. He’d never really explored thief builds as they didn’t really satisfy his thirst for melee battle. He was, on the other hand, more than happy to on-sell whatever he foraged from their cold, stiff corpses. He wondered if there were any merchants in the forest. If there were, they were more likely to cater for mana and piety builds - it just seemed like that kind of place.

  Having cleared the glade, the pair moved east through dense riparian vegetation. A swift-flowing stream burbled to their right, and Panny seemed intent on following it.

  “How did you come by your name?” Nick asked his companion, more to lighten the oppressive atmosphere than anything else.

  “The name’s Pannen Paligrove,” Panny snarled. “My father gifted it to me.”

  So that was that. Nick was curious about dwarven customs but didn’t want to irritate the dwarf further.

  “I hate Banda,” the dwarf offered soberly. Bemused, Nick just let the brigand talk.

  “I never saw his equal as a wizard. But as a man, he was pig shit.”

  They continued in silence. A light rain began falling through the gloom, pattering musically on Nick’s chain mail. The musky smell of earth, moss and rotting vegetation grew stronger. He felt they were edging closer to the heart of Duskstar. Just as well, because only two and a half hours remained on the clock.