Warfang: (Sky Realms Online Book 5): A LitRPG Series

by Troy Osgood

  “I’m so glad I agreed to come to Breakridge Meadow,” Bradberry said, smiling at Hall. He stood up, holding the parchment and quill in one hand, dusting himself off with the other. Hall couldn’t see too many of the lines already drawn, but he knew it was the start of a map. “You have the most interesting places.”

  Now Hall was curious.

  Why was there a tunnel running through the mountain? It had to lead somewhere interesting.

  Both Garrick and Bradberry were smiling as Hall passed them.

  There was a flat area just outside the opening, only as deep as the tunnel was wide, twice as long, the end curling back to meet the mountainside.

  Stepping out onto the flat shelf, Hall was amazed.

  He looked out over a small valley not that far down from where he was standing, only a couple of hundred feet. The mountains towered behind him, casting the tree-filled valley in shadow. The peaks around were smaller, not high, more like hills, with the taller mountains beyond. A waterfall crashed down from the north, emptying out of the side of a mountain, falling into a pond at the base, becoming a river that flowed to the south before it disappeared beneath another mountain.

  There was a roar to the wind as it ripped through the peaks, pushing at his cloak and hair. The sound that gave the Thunder Growls their name.

  The valley was beautiful but not spectacular.

  But what was in the middle of the valley was.

  The trees thinned out, forming a wide grassy clearing. The river flowed through the middle, splitting in an almost perfect circle around an island, coming back together on the other side, forming a moat.

  There was evidence of stone bridges that led to the island, the ends and part of the span still existing, the middle sections fallen into the water. Dirt paths, starting to become overgrown with weeds, led from the two bridges and into the forest, disappearing beneath the trees.

  The island itself was exposed rock, no grass or green at all, just the gray of the rock. In the middle stood a ring of stone blocks. A perfect circle, all the slabs equal in size. Longer than they were wide, only a foot or two thick. There were six pairs of two standing on end, another across the top, almost touching the ones on either side.

  There was no visible wear or erosion to the blocks, just the bridges.

  From his vantage, Hall couldn’t see what was in the middle of the blocks.

  To his left he saw a trail running along the side of the mountain, descending and disappearing into the trees. He assumed it met the dirt path he had seen. Eyes returning to the island, he traced the other dirt path, following it through the forest. He was able to pick out the patch carved into the far mountain as it snaked through the lower hills, ending in a dark tunnel opening.

  Mentally opening his map, Hall mentally pulled away from the image, showing a wider view of the land. There were many areas clouded over, not revealed, as he had never walked those areas. Most of the Thunder Growls were like that. His map showed the edges that he had flown, the edges along the plains that he had walked, but nothing in the middle of the wide range. He could see the blinking dot that represented him, the valley now appearing on the map, the far mountain and then nothing but empty paper until the mountains facing the plains.

  Just as he had assumed, if the tunnel he saw across the valley ran straight, it would exit the Thunder Growls close to where Hall and the others had found the Sage’s workshop.

  A direct path through the mountains from the edge of the island to the workshop.

  But why?

  What was down in that valley? What was in that well inside the mountain?

  Why had Bastian the Sage built all this?

  Chapter 13

  Surprisingly it was Bradberry who suggested they hold off on exploring the valley once Hall had explained what they’d discovered down the other tunnel.

  They’d accomplished what they had come there for. The Duntin raiders had been eliminated, but there might be a greater threat to Skara Brae. Bradberry was curious what was in the well, but that something was there held him back from exploring more. At least for now. At least until he could conduct some research into the Thunder Growls, see if anyone else from the Guild of Exploration had ever been there.

  Somewhere there had to be information on what the ring of stones was for, a similar set found elsewhere in Hankarth. That could lead to more information about what could be in the well.

  A little disappointed, Hall agreed.

  He was very curious about the ring of stones.

  And the well.

  But there was so much more to do.

  Bradberry was right. The ring of stones and well weren’t going anywhere. It was smart to see what they could find out first. It reminded Hall of some quests he had accepted in the pre-Glitch game of Sky Realms Online. Instead of the typical kill, collect, or find quests, there had been a couple that required the player to research an objective. They would find the lore, learn it, and use it to complete the quest.

  There was no quest, not yet. Hall had a feeling that Bradberry’s research would lead to one.

  Everyone was also nervous about messing with anything related to Bastian the Sage. Brandif and Garrick had the hatred that most of the natives had toward the Sage. Bradberry, whether it was because of his Arashi heritage or the research he had done over his adventuring life, was a little more open to the Sage and his constructions. He felt there was more to the story.

  The four left the mysterious valley, returning down the tunnel, rejoining the others outside the six stone houses. Hall sent a mental command to Pike.

  With a screech, the dragonhawk flew off to the north. He would find the Ridgerunner, his presence the signal that it was safe to bring the ship down.

  Roxhard and Jackoby had collected every piece of usable material from the dead Duntins, even going through the forest and scavenging the bodies there. It was a sizable pile of armor and weapons. A lot of material.

  Hall tossed the buckler onto it, the metal clanging against an axe. It was bent and useless but he liked the idea of it. He’d have to talk with Brandif and Tunwell when there was a free hour or two. He was able to use it, but there had to be a way to better use it as a Skirmisher, turn the defense capabilities of the buckler to his advantage with the way he approached combat.

  “How are the two ships?” he asked Brandif.

  “You looking to add them to your collection?”

  Hall laughed. The Ridgerunner had cost him a lot of money, but a lot of luck had helped in acquiring the ship. Taking on the always fighting Battleforge brothers had been part of the price. Traveling to Greenfire Depths, fighting the Desmarik Republic, Hall had left the Dwarven outpost the owner of a second ship. The Desmarik vessel, named the Red Eye Blood, was a warship. Deadly, harsh in its design. It was an ugly ship, to Hall and the others. They had needed it to get everything they’d recovered in Greenfire, along with the people they had rescued, back to Skara Brae. There had been two ships. The other prisoners had taken the second for the voyage back to their home islands. Hall and the others had no idea if the freed prisoners had made it.

  Their own voyage back had been relatively uneventful.

  The Red Eye Blood, Hall still hadn’t come up with a new name, had been cleaned up during the trip. The ugly demon heads that were painted everywhere and the Desmarik rune work had been removed or painted over. The ship was still ugly and obviously not local to the Hankarth islands.

  It sat in one of the three berths at the elevated docks built in the Breakridge Meadow. Just sat there, unused. Hall wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the ship. They could use it. The Ridgerunner spent too much time going back and forth from Skara Brae to Silverpeak for more supplies; a second ship would help out a lot. But they had no crew. It was a bigger ship, requiring a much larger crew.

  The Ridgerunner was designed to be sailed by a small crew. The Red Eye Blood was not. It required a full crew. Two full crews if it was to sail overnight.

  “We threw torch
es on both ships,” Brandif said. “The Red Caps on guard got them out with minimal damage. Mostly cosmetic. We didn’t search either ship. Not yet. But if they can sail? Probably. Or we can salvage them for parts and material.”

  Hall liked that idea better than keeping the ships.

  But stripping them for parts would take a very long time.

  It would be worth it though.

  He couldn’t see the ships, but he knew their relative sizes. Where would they store all that material? Glancing down at the pile of loot, he wondered where they’d store all of that as well.

  Would it make more sense to fly the ships to the meadow, land them on the grass, and use them as storage? Taking the parts as needed?

  Finding out if they could fly them the short distance to Skara Brae would have to come first.

  “We can try,” Gorid Stoneglare answered Hall’s question.

  They stood at the island’s edge, a dozen feet in, the wind tugging at them, looking up at the two ships floating above them. The lines snapped in the breeze, the sails furled, the two ships gently rocking back and forth in constant motion.

  “Getting them along the island’s edge with a smaller crew isn’t the problem,” he continued. Gorid walked toward the edge of the island, looking up at the underside of the two ships. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to how close he was. “It’s the winds over the meadow that’ll be the issue. Without all the hands to keep ’em controlled, these ships will crash. I know ye want to scuttle them on the meadow, but that’s a controlled crash, not what will happen. All these nice parts will be lost.”

  Hall sighed. It was what he had assumed Gorid’s answer would be.

  “I’m worried if we leave them here, other raiders or ships will take all the parts.”

  “I didn’t say we’d leave them here,” Gorid said, turning around, smiling.

  Hall didn’t like the look in Gorid’s eyes.

  “What?” he asked with some hesitation.

  “Don’t you worry,” Gorid said, walking away from the edge, passing by Hall.

  The Dwarf started muttering to himself. Hall thought he heard something about ship weight versus thrust. He decided he didn’t want to know what Gorid was planning.

  He walked back up the hill, circling around the forest, taking the path the Duntins would have if he and the Wardens hadn’t ambushed them. It was easier than walking through the forest. He passed by some of the others as they carried loads of items looted from the Duntins to the waiting ships.

  “This is the last of it,” Roxhard said, bringing up the rear. “Everyone’s heading down.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Hall replied. “One last thing I want to do.”

  It didn’t take him long to get to his destination. Pulling his spear from the harness, he walked into the stone house, eyes adjusting to the dark. The tunnel was empty. He walked down it, entering the chambers, stepping over the bodies of the Duntins now stripped of anything usable.

  The old gamer mentality. Take it all.

  But now instead of just selling it in town for coin, he could get some use out of it.

  He felt the presence as soon as he entered the large chamber. His eyes were drawn to the well. It wasn’t calling out to him, but he felt it. He stood just inside, studying the well. He knew there was something down there.

  Slowly, a step at a time, he walked toward it.

  The pull wasn’t strong, and it didn’t get stronger the closer he was. It was just there. It wanted his attention, but didn’t seem to want anything from him. Without the adrenalin from the fighting, he could now concentrate on what he was feeling.

  Roxhard was the only one who felt it. Just not as strong. He had called it a feeling in the back of his head, like someone was watching him.

  To Hall, it was a pull for attention. Whatever it was, it wanted Hall to know it was there.

  He just wasn’t sure why.

  Stopping at the wall, he leaned over, careful not to touch anything or lean too far.

  Without any light, his Limited Night Vision was useless. The well was too deep, too much shadow.

  Whatever was down there, it wasn’t alive. He could tell that much.

  He stepped away.

  What had the Sage been doing here? There was the stone ring in the valley and this well. No evidence of any work areas like in the other cave. Just the well and stone ring. Were the six houses for people who served the Sage? Lived here and took care of whatever it was here?

  He had no answers and doubted he would get any soon.

  “Whatever you are,” he said, feeling weird speaking to the well. “Just stay down there. We’ll be back at some point to figure all this out.”

  Hall stood at the back of the Ridgerunner, hands tight on the rail, watching the Duntin ship pushed by the strong winds. A thick length of rope, not long enough for his liking, connected the two ships. The sails were at half-mast on the Duntins’ warship, the smaller of the two, just enough power to the engines to keep it floating.

  Gorid and the Ridgerunner were doing the rest.

  The ship moved slowly, the engines loud as they pushed the power to drag the heavier warship. Gerdi Battleforge kept it steady, turning the wheel slowly, just enough to keep the Ridgerunner on course. It was hard, her arms straining. Every time a gust of wind slammed into either ship, she had to work fast to get them both on course. Gorid stood beside her, head constantly moving. From Gerdi to the Ridgerunner, to the Duntins’ ship and back.

  He didn’t say much, giving Gerdi quiet instructions now and then, but mostly leaving it up to her.

  He had been very confident in the plan, sure it would work.

  Hall hadn’t been, but Gorid was the ship’s captain and an experienced one. If Gorid said the Ridgerunner could do it, Hall had to trust him.

  Didn’t mean he had to like it or feel comfortable with the idea.

  But so far it seemed to be working.

  The idea was simple enough. They didn’t want to keep the Duntin ships at the collection of small homes that Hall had marked on his map as Sagewell. Not the most original name, he admitted, but it worked.

  It was taking twice as long to return to Breakridge Meadow, but they were making progress. The sun had set, the moon high, providing plenty of light. They were lucky. The positions of the islands above them were letting more moonlight and starlight down onto Edin. Night in the islands of Hankarth was dark, so many islands above blocking out some of the light from the moon and stars.

  Not tonight, which Hall was thankful for.

  “There it is,” Gorid said, loud enough for Hall to hear.

  He turned, looking to the bow, past the ship, seeing the familiar edge of the Thunder Growls where they met the island’s edge, forming a narrow passage. It was hard to believe the raiders had attacked yesterday, coming up that passage. Already, Hall could see the start of a wall across it. Duncant and the Valedale Gnomes had been hard at work.

  That narrow strip of land was the windiest part of the meadow. It blew in, slamming against the mountains. Normally ships would swing out wide, going out away from the island with nothing but blue sky beneath them. Hall didn’t think the Ridgerunner could manage that with the warship behind them. Gorid had agreed.

  His plan didn’t call for them to even fly through the passage.

  Gorid moved forward to the front rail of the deck, eyes watching the approaching mountain. The side was almost flat, only a couple of dozen feet from the edge, rising vertically a couple of hundred feet before steeply sloping toward the peak much higher up. A natural defensive spot with the wall that would soon be in place.

  The Ridgerunner flew closer. About a hundred feet out, without turning back, he shouted, “Now. Cut the line.”

  Hall already had his dagger in hand. Leaning over the rail, he grabbed the end of the rope close to where it passed over the rail. Holding it tight, he started sawing through the thick line. Bit by bit he cut, hearing the snapping as more and more of the fibers were ripped a
way by the weight of the ship.

  The last bit snapped on its own, whipping up, almost catching Hall in the face. He stepped back, watching the rope drop away. It fell to the ground only fifty or so feet down.

  This was the part that worried him the most. And seemed to worry Gorid as well. The ship’s captain was now standing next to him.

  They watched as the Duntin ship crept forward, getting bigger and bigger as the gap between the ships got smaller. And then it stopped.

  The warship shook, the entire ship shuddering. There was a loud groan, the sails snapping, the engines straining.

  A minute later the anchors were dropped, slamming into the ground, the lines holding the ship steady. One of the Battleforge brothers stood in the bow, waving. A little too enthusiastically for Hall’s liking. He couldn’t remember which Battleforge brother it was, even after all this time unable to tell them apart. Whichever brother it was had been on board the warship with Herj Onyxshard, the most experienced sailor aside from Gorid.

  Their job had been simple but the most important.

  Once the line was cut, they had to stop the ship as quickly as possible; otherwise its momentum would carry it right into the Ridgerunner or the mountain. Either would be bad.

  But they had managed to bring it to a stop.

  Hall watched as the ship slowly drifted to the ground. It moved forward a bit, but Gorid had already had Gerdi move the Ridgerunner further away. With a loud scraping sound, the warship settled onto the rocky edge of the island. It landed on its slightly angled keel, coming to a stop and leaning to the side.

  The two Dwarves on board jumped out, pulling lines with them. Each scrambled across the open space between the island’s edge and the mountain. With the lines tight, they started to hammer spikes into the ground.

  “Would have liked it a little further from the edge,” Gorid muttered.

  The warship had settled about fifty feet from the jagged edge, moving slightly in the wind. Hall didn’t think the wind would manage to push and pull the ship the entire distance, not with the lines secured.