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

by Troy Osgood

  The demon turned, the tip still in its body, ripping out a large chunk of hairy flesh as the weapon was pulled out. It roared in pain, slamming its body into Hall. He fell back, ribs bruised from the impact. The Bovir thrashed, tail whipping to the side. Hall ducked, getting the spear up to deflect the spikes. He snapped the butt end against the demon’s side, wood clacking against armored plates. The head twisted, trying to gore Hall with the horns. He stepped back, driving the spear into the flesh above the shoulder plate. It was an awkward, quick attack that barely did any damage, but it did make the Bovir step back.

  And into a storm of splinters.

  The small shards of wood struck it in many spots, some breaking against the bone plates, others sinking into flesh, disappearing into the shaggy hair. Enraged, the Bovir turned, looking to the forest. Another cloud of splinters slammed into its face. The demon roared, the sound so much louder.

  Hall activated Leap, jumping straight up. Coming down, he used Leaping Stab, the tip of the spear pointed straight at the neck of the Bovir. Hall felt the impact, felt the resistance, felt it through the wood and his arms. He felt a sharp pain in his left wrist, a bone cracking. The resistance faded, the tip of the spear plunging deep into the creature’s neck.

  He landed to the side, tip still in the demon, pulling the large head, widening the wound as Hall yanked the weapon out. With the Attack of Opportunity, he crouched down, slamming the spear into the underside of the Bovir’s neck.

  Dark-colored blood poured out of the wound, dripping onto the ground. The head sagged, bleeding from top and bottom. Thrashing caused Hall to jump back, barely avoiding the tail. He took another couple of steps back, watching the Bovir thrash about. The body shook; the feet stamped; blood poured from the wounds.

  The demon just dropped to the ground, no longer moving.

  Shaking his wrist, feeling the bones grate together, unable to close it around the spear’s shaft, Hall looked for the next target. There was fighting all around him. More Expedition soldiers and Desmarik, another Stontle.

  He tried to grab the spear but couldn’t. Pain shot up his arm.

  Cursing, Hall dropped the spear, drawing his short sword.

  There was no time to find Leigh or one of the other Druids.

  Hall activated Leap, knowing it was a drain on his dwindling Energy, but needing to cross the distance before the new Expedition soldiers could surround Ganner.

  The fighting had stopped. Finally.

  Hall leaned against the cave wall, watching the three Druids move from person to person. None had avoided getting hurt, not even Sharra or the Druids. The plan to divide the Desmarik, demons, and Expedition soldiers had been the only thing that had saved them. It had been chaotic, a seemingly never-ending stream of enemies.

  He was exhausted, bruised and battered. His Energy was tapped, slow to recharge. Near full Health, after a couple of healing spells from Leigh, Hall didn’t want to move. But he knew they would need to. There was still the source of the corruption to find.

  They had to rest first, though; there was no choice.

  He had already gone through his notifications, and there had been a lot of them once the combat was done. He’d lost count of the number he’d killed, but it had gone into the double digits. It reminded him of the battle on Huntly with the Svertleim. Finish one foe and another appeared. The Experience and skill gains were good.

  After spending months in the post-Glitch world of Sky Realms Online, Hall had gotten used to the slow pace of leveling. But now he was very close to hitting level nine, and it had only been weeks since hitting level eight. Nowhere near as rapid as the original game but much better than it had been.

  Maybe someday he’d be able to finally decipher the Treasure Map he had found on Cumberland during his first weeks trapped in the game. It had a level twenty and Cartography skill of forty restriction. Hall had started to worry he’d never get high enough to decode it. A map like that, the treasure at the end had to be epic.

  Some of his current quests had gotten nice bumps as well.

  RETAKING THE NORTH I

  Kill members of the Expedition Lumber Company 146/150

  CULL THE DEMONS

  Kill demons in the Northern Territories 15/100

  FINDING WARFANG II

  Journey to Warfang Hill 1/1

  Dain walked over to him, the Ranger holding an arm out, swinging it to loosen the muscles. He bore a new mark, a scar down his right cheek and through his beard.

  “Wouldn’t heal?” Hall asked, pointing at the scar.

  “Just one of many,” Dain replied. “Just more visible than the rest.”

  It had stopped bleeding, the skin fused together. It looked red and raw, which was to be expected. Freshly healed. Hall had noticed a couple on his chest, wounds that refused to fully heal. Something else new to the game.

  “I’ve been at this a long time. Scars are part of life,” Dain said, reaching up and touching the wound. He winced at the tenderness. “Are we ready for this?” he asked, pointing down the tunnel.

  Hall turned, looking down the length. Jackoby and Roxhard were ten feet ahead, just where the floor of the tunnel started to slope steeply. So far nothing but the strange glow had come up from below. Even with their night vision and dark vision, neither could see the end of the tunnel. The sides were smooth, as was the floor and ceiling. There were no designs, pilasters or anything to show someone had carved the tunnel beyond the smoothness. No noises came up from the depths.

  It couldn’t be a long tunnel. The hill wasn’t that big.

  “I’m still surprised none of the locals knew this existed,” Dain muttered.

  They had found a pile of rotting vines, the ends showing evidence of being hacked through. Looking around the mouth of the tunnel, they saw where vines and grass had been removed. At one point the tunnel had been covered up. But Hall had to agree with Dain. There was no logical way the tunnel could have remained hidden with townsfolk making trips to the hill.

  But it apparently had.

  Maybe there had been some magic at work, which the Desmarik had been able to dispel.

  “No,” Hall replied, answering Dain’s question. “But we have no choice.”

  He pushed himself off the wall, grunting as a wave of pain shot up from his wrist. Leigh had healed the damage, but the bone and muscle were sore, still stiff and hurt. Magical healing was amazing, but it could only do so much. Hall hoped he’d still be able to grip his spear. He walked to Leigh, the blue glow fading from her arms and hands as she stopped touching Ganner’s arm. She looked up at Hall, as tired as he was. Probably more. Between the fighting, healing and how the corruption was making her feel, Hall was surprised she was still standing.

  “Ten, fifteen minutes,” she told him, knowing what he was going to ask. “Let us get full Energy back before we start fighting again.”

  She looked past him, into the dark mouth of the tunnel.

  “It’s down there,” she said with a shudder. “I can feel it, a darkness.”

  Hall reached out, pulling her in tight. Ganner walked away, giving them a private moment.

  “This will be over soon.”

  Dawn was coming, the sun rising in the east. The light barely cut through the trees, but the ground around the hill was open, letting more of the morning sun shine down on them. Covered in grass, the hills were almost entirely purple. Small blades of green lay scattered, overwhelmed by the dark color of the corruption. Hall could see bands of the purple snaking across the ground, under their feet, disappearing into the forest.

  “We’ll stop this,” he told Leigh, kissing the top of her head.

  Chapter 38

  The slope was very steep, but not so bad that they couldn’t walk. They stepped carefully, to avoid slipping, moving in single file but not directly behind the one in front. Hall estimated that the sloping tunnel ended in the exact middle of the hill.

  It opened onto a wide shaft, up and down, stairs spiraling around the perimeter, o
nly going down. Looking up, there wasn’t anything to see, the top lost in darkness. Below, the blue-white glow seemed to come from not the shaft, but to the north. It was bright, flaring through the shaft, reflecting off crystals in the wall.

  Small, randomly spaced, Roxhard thought them part of the hill. They weren’t placed there, he thought, just found when the shaft had been carved. It was the crystals that let the light shine outside the hill.

  Hall stood at the top, on the edge, looking down. He couldn’t see far. The glow gave his Limited Night Vision the ambient light it needed to work, but at the same time was too bright. It was a long way down.

  Pike flew past his shoulder, crossing the width of the shaft. He spiraled around the shaft, flying higher and higher. Near the top, disappearing into the shadows, Pike dove. The air whistled as Pike fell quickly.

  Hall had been hesitant about sending Pike out to scout, but the Desmarik knew they were there. They had no element of surprise. It was more important to see if there was an ambush waiting to take them out as they walked down the exposed stairs.

  Stepping back, Hall connected to Pike, seeing through the dragonhawk’s eyes.

  The walls were a blur, the crystals bright spots.

  Spreading his wings at the bottom, Pike pulled up, evening out into a spiral along the bottom. The stairs came down one side, directly across from the opening. Worked stone blocks bordered the arch, bright blue-white light coming from a long corridor. Pike flew away from the arch, angling up the stairs. Sharp eyes looked for traps or ambushers. He saw nothing.

  Flying past the top, Pike continued back to the dome. Hall closed his eyes, disconnecting the Shared Vision. Blinking, he refocused, looking down the shaft.

  “Nothing on the stairs,” he told them, describing what Pike had seen. “Can Lissie and Ganner cover us from up here as we descend?”

  The two Rangers stepped to the edge. They looked down, talking quietly for a minute.

  “The distance is great, so our aim would be off,” Ganner answered. “But we can be accurate enough to make them not want to come out.”

  “Good enough. Caryn and Jackoby,” Hall ordered.

  They set the line going down. Caryn and Jackoby were first, Caryn checking for traps. Hall followed, but kept five or six feet behind, leaving space between them. Leigh and Angus were next, the cow mooing quietly, complaining about the steep steps. The rest spread out, a long line down the stairs.

  The shaft wasn’t that wide, Hall across from Roxhard on the stairs. When Roxhard was where Hall had been, Dain was pulling up the rear of the group.

  Caryn paused five feet up from the bottom, turning away from the stairs, examining the ground. She said something quietly to Jackoby. The large Firbolg nodded and jumped down to the bottom. He took a couple of steps toward the arch, stopping in the middle of the room, shield and hammer ready. Caryn walked down the last couple of steps, both swords drawn, taking up a position behind and to the side of Jackoby.

  Hall’s feet touched the hard ground, stone like the walls and steps, smooth. He couldn’t tell if someone had worked to make it that smooth or age had done it. He studied the stones around the arch, seeing symbols carved into them. Time had worn most of the detail away, but he saw enough here and there to recognize some. He moved to the top of the arch and the keystone, studying the one symbol carved into that stone. One that time had not diminished.

  He knew that symbol.

  A half moon, with three lines above and below.

  The symbol of Bastian the Sage.

  Hall cursed.

  Dain spit on the ground.

  “Nothing the Sage touches is good,” he muttered.

  Hall didn’t respond. The natives of Hankarth universally hated Bastian the Sage, blaming him for the fracturing of the world. Which was a different story from what Hall and the other players had been told. The game lore had it that the Feardagh, a demon, had somehow made the two great elemental titans, Ymir and Surtr, fight. The energy released had fractured the world. Bastian the Sage was a quest giver who appeared everywhere, involved in many of the game’s more epic quest lines. He didn’t do anything, just a figure in the lore. Hall had forgotten the times he had encountered the Sage pre-Glitch.

  Post-Glitch, he hadn’t ever seen the man, just his symbol in multiple spots. All on Edin.

  The first two made some sense. There was the workshop and through the mountains the small collection of homes on the mountainside that Hall had named Sagewell. A tunnel connected the two.

  But why was it here? In the Northern Territories in Warfang Hill?

  From what the natives said, no one had seen the Sage in over a hundred years, maybe more. Any chance of having the questions answered was gone.

  Hall studied the corridor. Long and straight, no slope to the floor. There weren’t any noises coming from the other end, the light bright enough that they could see the entire length. No one was waiting for them in the tunnel. There could still be traps, but Hall didn’t think so.

  But whoever was in the room at the end had to know they were coming. Which meant an ambush.

  Caryn walked forward, examining the arch, searching for traps or wards. Seeing none, she motioned to Jackoby. The Firbolg joined her, starting down the tunnel. Hall followed a couple of paces behind, Dain to his side, the rest behind. Ganner and Lissie had finally come down, taking the rear of the line. They moved slowly, eyes ahead, watching for signs of anyone or anything in the room beyond. Listening for the sounds of movements, breathing, metal scraping against metal.

  Jackoby and Caryn reached the end, both stopping in surprise. They stood, weapons hanging down, a sign that there were no enemies. But whatever they had seen, it had shocked them. Motioning to everyone behind to wait, Hall crept forward.

  He came alongside Jackoby, looking into the room, stopping as suddenly as they had.

  The tunnel opened up to a long cavern, the ceiling twenty feet or so high, the walls rough, rock formations rising from the floor and hanging from the ceiling. Some were so long they touched in the middle, becoming one big structure. But what had Hall’s attention was the river flowing through the middle. It came out of a dark tunnel to the side, leaving through another tunnel across the length of the room. It wasn’t very wide, only ten feet across.

  But it glowed. The source of the blue-white glow. There was a flow to the substance, not water, but thick and almost solid. The pulses came from the waves made as it journeyed through the cavern.

  Across the river of liquid was a stone bridge, low with a slight arch, no sides, barely five feet wide.

  The river gave off enough light to show the cavern. Hall stepped out into it, eyes following the flow. In the room, the glow was brighter. He brushed at his arms, feeling jittery, wild energy through his body. There was a flashing in the upper edges of his vision. Concentrating on it, his Energy meter appeared. It was the cause of the flashing, pulsing almost in time with the river pulses. Watching the bar, it seemed to flash past the maximum point, settling back at full.

  “What is this place?” Roxhard asked.

  Hall looked behind him to see the others all walking in. Sharra, the only Shaman, and the Druids all seemed to stand straighter, seem stronger. The Druids had been looking ill from exposure to the corruption. All that was washed away. Even Tulla, the fairy in the cage, was affected. Always glowing a light purple, she was brighter, standing at the bars of the cage, eyes wide in wonder.

  “It’s a ley line,” Sharra said, her voice filled with wonder. “The source of all magic.”

  They all slowly walked toward the river of blue-white glowing liquid. Energy, Hall amended. It was pure energy. The cavern was warmer than it should have been. Comfortable but not as damp or as cold as Hall would have expected.

  He would have thought the ley line to have been deeper in the ground, not that he had expected such a thing to actually exist. How magic worked had never been a topic in the pre-Glitch days. It just did. That was all most people needed. There were a fe
w, Seo had probably been one of them, Hall thought, who needed a lore reason for why magic existed and did what it did. But it was a game; that wasn’t a requirement. Hall’s class style of combat wasn’t real. It wouldn’t have been as functional in the real world, but it worked in the game setting.

  Same with magic.

  Back in Timberhearth when they had first discussed Warfang Hill and how it was thought a ley line was close to the surface, Hall had never expected to actually see the line or that it would physically exist. But here it was.

  He didn’t like the feeling being so close to that much pure energy gave him. He felt wired.

  Looking to the south where the flow disappeared into the stone again, Hall wondered if it somehow continued all the way to the south, connecting to the roots of the Branch of the World Tree at Breakridge. It had to. The ley lines were the connecting points that held the fractured islands together. They were the lifeblood of the Branches.

  He looked at Leigh, who also looked at the far end, lost in thought. Thinking the same as he had been, wondering if it connected to home?

  “Look,” Caryn said, drawing all eyes. She was pointing across the cavern.

  Hall followed her arm, seeing a dark opening in the far stone wall. Not directly across from where they had come in, but off to the side, almost blocked by a rock formation that ran from floor to ceiling.

  There was no glow that they could see, just a dark hole. Smaller than the arch they had entered.

  “I guess we go that way,” Hall said.

  They walked out of the cavern, into the tunnel, and Hall felt immediately better. The pulsing of his Energy bar faded, the jittery feeling left his body. That much raw physical energy, the manifestation of what powered the magic of the world, had to be overwhelming being that close. Skirmisher wasn’t a spellcasting class, but it still used Energy for its special abilities. If he had been that affected being in the room, it must have been worse for the casters.