Bugs and Loopholes: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 3)

by Rachel Ford

  Reach the lands of the plains dwellers, where Iaxiabor’s ancient fortress lies.

  “He was going to take some of the gems,” he told Jordan, “from the gold throne.”

  She gestured to a drawstring bag on the ground a foot away from the glimmering throne. “He did.”

  Jack’s expression lit up, and she rolled her eyes. “Ohh…” Seeing her face, he shrugged. “Well, I can’t leave them here, Jordan. That’d just be a waste.”

  “Can’t have that.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, what does a dead elf need with treasure? Nothing. Me, on the other hand…” He shrugged again, as if the matter was self-explanatory. Then, he glanced around. “So, there’s some kind of secret passage behind the throne. That’s what his journal said.”

  She nodded, reminding him that she did in fact know where it was.

  He snorted. “That’s right. You’re filling in for Migli, picking up the role of companion who does nothing to help the team.” He didn’t want to say worthless, since that sounded a little harsher than he intended. “Hey, speaking of…can you rez Aderyn here?”

  “What?”

  “You know, with your staff of resurrection. Can you bring him back to life?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. But we’ll lose the ogre if I do. And he’s going to be a lot more help in a fight.”

  “Well, why not keep both?”

  “Can’t. You can only rez one at a time.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “I take it, then, we’re going to have a fight soon?”

  “Soon enough.”

  He considered for a long moment. On the one hand, the ogre certainly did nothing to help their efforts at concealment. On the other, if they had a big fight ahead of them, an ogre would come in handy. “Alright. Let’s leave Aderyn.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It didn’t take long to locate the door Aderyn mentioned in his journal. Just like the dead man, they found the telltale scuffs along the stone where a portion of the wall arced open. But try as he might, his pushing and pulling and straining and heaving had no effect. The door stayed firmly closed.

  All the while, Jordan watched expressionlessly – with the kind of placid look that could only be the result of a determined effort. Her poker face annoyed him more than the unyielding stone – that, and the thought that he probably looked like an idiot straining against rock.

  So he abandoned the brute force strategy. Instead, he remembered the necromancer’s lair, and the button on the altar. There was no altar here, of course. But there were two thrones, and a dais covered in stone embellishments.

  Jack spent a few minutes pressing gems on the gold throne, and feeling for any sign of give along the embellishments. But all of it was to no avail: nothing shifted, and the door stayed closed.

  He took a good, long look around the room. It was massive, stretching twice as long as it was wide. Pillars lined the outer wall, and the remnants of old benches and seating alcoves remained. Nothing about them suggested they might house the secret passage’s control center. Indeed, they seemed intended for use by persons other than the elf king – visitors and guests, rather than the royal family themselves. In Jack’s mind, it seemed counterintuitive to put access to any fortress secrets among non-residents.

  Then again, this was a game. Like the pressure plate on the altar, there was no guarantee that the developers would have approached building the fortress with the owner’s mindset.

  He was frowning at a cluster of smashed benches when Jordan said, “Don’t forget to look up.”

  He glanced her way. “What?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t forget to look up, at the ceiling.”

  He did so immediately, asking, “What am I looking for?” But she offered no further hints. So Jack studied the vaulted ceiling blankly, surveying each crack and bit of ruined stone, each arc and all the carvings overhead. He was just about to say he hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary when he glanced a little lower than the great arcs, and his eyes fixed on three massive chandeliers. They hung at equal distances throughout the room, which suggested a kind of symmetry of design. But they were anything but alike. The first was dark, wrought metal covered in glimmering red gems; the second, silver with blue gems; and the third, made entirely of crystal and white gems. “Wait a minute. Why do those chandeliers look so weird?”

  She smiled, but said nothing. He frowned for a long moment at the incongruity. Red, blue, white. Then, he smiled too. He knew exactly what it meant. “Fire, water, air.”

  Jordan gestured to the vine-like embellishments around the dais. “And earth.”

  “Son-of-a-biscuit. So it does have something to do with the carvings.” When she neither confirmed nor denied this, he prodded, “So, we have to do something with the elements. But what?”

  “What kind of spells do you have?”

  “Healing and fire.”

  She nodded. “Do you have a canteen?”

  “What?”

  “You know, for water?”

  “Oh. No.”

  She pulled one out of her pack. “Now you do.”

  The game alerted him as he took it that he had a canteen. “So I take it I’m supposed to splash water on the water chandelier, and what? Shoot a fireball at the fire one?”

  She nodded. “You need an earth spell for the dais, and an air spell for the crystal chandelier.”

  “I don’t have them. I told you: my only magic is –”

  “I know. I’ve got the spells we need. Normally, if you didn’t have them, your companions would help out.”

  “Oh.” He nodded. “Okay, well, you ready?” She confirmed that she was, and Jack readied the canteen like a softball. Then, he said, “Go,” and flung it high and hard. The game alerted him that he’d lost his canteen. He saw it sail through the air, and connect with the silver and blue chandelier. He heard a trilling sound, and water began to drip from the lighting assembly.

  He shivered, pushing the thought of electrical fires from his mind only with an effort, and readied his fireball. At the same time, Jordan had unleashed a windstorm at the crystal chandelier. Its gems tinkled in the fierce wind; and even after the spell subsided, they kept on vibrating, sounding like glass chimes in a storm. He fired at the red chandelier, and flames sprung up, engulfing it.

  Now, Jack was really glad he was in a videogame, and not real life. Between water dripping from a light fixture, and flames licking up toward the ceiling, this seemed like a disaster in the making.

  Jordan loosed the final spell, this toward the dais. The earth rumbled underneath them; and all at once, the three chandeliers blazed with light. The dais dropped until it reached the level of the floor.

  And a portion of stone wall opened behind them.

  Jordan flashed a grin his way. “Nice going.”

  He grinned too, and set off into the dark feeling slightly less annoyed with the game – despite the persistent ruckus of his NPC companions.

  The hidden passage they stepped into was dark and cramped. The ogre barely fit inside, and Shimmerfax’s steps seemed to boom in the small space.

  They walked for a minute, perhaps. Jack listened hard for the sounds Aderyn had mentioned. But either he could not hear them over the ogre and battlecorn’s ruckus, or else the source of the noises had moved on.

  The passage twisted and turned this way and that. Then, abruptly, it spilled out into a huge cavern. Pale light glimmered along the cavern ceiling, and Jack stared in wonder. They’d reached an underground city. Residences had been carved into the cavern walls. Cut stone buildings filled the space, along smooth roads and beside shimmering pools. There were well-curated parks, too, with strange trees and shrubs that grew iridescent leaves, and mossy faux-lawns by the larger residences.

  It looked like a massive, bustling city, well maintained and full of life and activity.

  Except, of course, for the fact that it was completely empty at the moment. The streets sat bare. The homes, in whose windows lights yet glowed, showed
no sign of inhabitants – no moving persons inside, no shadows or silhouettes or sounds. The parks lay empty and desolate. No sound of laughter or footfalls, no child’s cries or witty banter, no quiet conversation and no hum of movement sounded anywhere.

  His own breaths and Jordan’s, the clomp of Shimmerfax’s hooves and the moaning of the ogre, the murmur of lonely pools and the rustle of some far away breeze, were all that Jack heard.

  “What is this place?” he said at last.

  “We should go and find out.”

  He nodded, and set his steps toward the center of the city, and the great courtyard there. They followed a wide road cut into the stone. Here and there, where the original floor had risen high enough, the mystery workman had carved benches out of stone, and planters that had been filled with glowing cave flowers. Some gleamed red and white, some blue and green; but all had the wan, washed out look of things unaccustomed to sunlight.

  They reached the outskirts of the city. Small, though not humble, homes sprang up beside them. Small or large, they all bore evidence of incredible workmanship. Delicate carvings adorned the lintels and doorways, and grand statues stood at the ends of walking paths toward the homes. Gems of many colors had been set into the stone, making up the blue eyes of a stone maiden in one direction, or the shimmering earrings of another. A stern-faced elven man wore a badge of office that glinted with golden jewels by one home, and the hem of an old lady’s skirt glimmered with greens and purples beside him.

  Jack’s mouth had gone a little dry at the sight of so much wealth. He remembered the pouch of pilfered gems in his rucksack, and he started to run calculations in his mind. He wondered how many of these stones he could carry, and how much he might gain in selling them. He wondered how many trips he would have to take back to the hidden city before he got them all.

  He was so lost in his musings that he missed the sudden uptick in tempo of the ambient music. He didn’t miss the horde of pale white bodies that surrounded them, though, seeming to pour out of the earth itself like a colony of ants. That would have been impossible: there were hundreds of them, all pressing in close and brandishing weapons menacingly.

  “What the fluffernutter?” he said. Then, “Ambush.”

  He turned in a circle, and saw with dismay that they were absolutely surrounded. It explained, he guessed, why the city looked so dead: everyone seemed to have been in hiding, laying in wait for them to pass.

  Their undead ogre colleague grunted and raised his fists in a threat. Shimmerfax snorted and pawed the stone. Jordan alone of their party seemed at ease, like she knew what was going to happen. Because she does.

  Then the sea of pale bodies parted, and a great, hulking monster stepped forward. He was a tall creature, or had been once at least. Now, his great shoulders hunched over, wide and lumpy, like a thing that had been broken and healed badly. His fingers were gnarled, his movements stiff and awkward, and his face – well, Jack shivered at the sight of it. His visage made the grimmest goblin seem a prince by comparison, so hideous was this man.

  And yet, for all that, stooped and broken, monstrous and mutilated, there was yet something noble in his manner. “Who are you?” Jack asked, his hand hovering above the hilt of his sword.

  “I am Miradorn,” the twisted figure replied in a voice smooth and honeyed as song. “Who are you, who trespasses in the realm of Miradorn and Arya, who carries stolen starlight like a thief in the night?”

  The game’s main quest updated, adding a new objective:

  Fight or negotiate your way out of Miradorn’s kingdom.

  Jack barely registered it. He was too transfixed by the horde of angry soldiers. Plus, he had no idea what the starlight business meant. But he did recognize the names. “Wait, Miradorn? Like, the cursed elf king?”

  Miradorn didn’t answer that. He just repeated, “Who are you?”

  The game gave him four predetermined responses to the prompt.

  I beg your pardon, Miradorn, king of the elves of the north. I am Jack, an adventurer who seeks to stop a great evil from devouring our world.

  Don’t get your silken drawers in a twist, elf boy: we’re here by accident.

  Get out of my face, monster, or I will end you.

  And,

  [Attack]

  Jack chose the first option, and the twisted creature before him nodded slowly. “The wind whispers, and the earth speaks to me. I have heard rumors of you, and your quest.”

  “Uh…well, that’s cool.”

  “But what brings you to my doorstep in the dark of night? And why do you carry the stolen starlight?”

  Again, Jack had no idea what the king was talking about. But the game gave him three options for reply.

  We are passing this way by accident. We came seeking Aderyn, for he had information we needed to find Iaxiabor. But he is dead, and we are now trapped.

  I don’t speak weirdo. You mind trying that again, in English this time?

  And,

  You’re starting to get on my nerves, elf boy.

  Jack chose the first option, and Miradorn eyed him suspiciously. “You are in league with the thief, then?”

  Three more options appeared in the same vein: conciliatory, rude, and threatening. He chose the conciliatory one. “Thief? What thief, Great Miradorn?”

  To Jack’s surprise, though, the answer didn’t placate the gnarled old man. On the contrary, he now unsheathed a great, glowing dagger. “Do not think that we are unaware of the desecration your dead friend committed. We caught him stuffing the starlight into his pack, and he paid the ultimate price for his thievery and insolence.

  “And do not think that we are any more ignorant of what lies even now in your pack, Adventurer.”

  Four options flitted through Jack’s thoughts.

  Wait, do you mean the gems from the gold throne? Are those the ‘starlight’ of which you speak, good king?

  Look, you got me all wrong. Aderyn and I never even met. I just needed some information from the bastard. And he kicked it before I could get it.

  Listen, pointy ears, I’m not going to tell you again: get out of my face.

  And,

  Pardon me, good king: I meant no harm in lifting the starlight gems. But it seemed too great a disrespect to leave them scattered on the earth, like discarded trash. [Poor and downtrodden perk insight]

  Jack hesitated for a moment. Then, as he hadn’t encountered the poor and downtrodden perk dialogue options before, he chose the last one. King Miradorn listened, and then considered in silence for so long Jack began to fear that he’d picked wrongly.

  But the king bowed his head. “Your conscientiousness does you credit, Adventurer. I assume you have come this way to return them, then?”

  Again, he had four possible responses to choose from:

  Sure. That’s exactly what I was planning. Here you go. [Hand over gems]

  That had been the plan. But don’t you think I deserve a reward for being so conscientious? [Hold onto gems]

  Just kidding, Ugs. I nicked ‘em, and I don’t mean to let them go. [Hold onto gems]

  Like the last time, the final dialogue option was a result of the poor and downtrodden perk:

  In truth, good king, I knew not who or what lay beyond these walls. I came here in search of a way out. But I will happily return your possessions to you. [Hand over gems]

  Jack chose the last option, since he figured keeping the jewels would mean fighting Miradorn and his army; and he wanted the quickest way out.

  The game alerted him that he’d lost the jewels, and he felt a pang of regret at that. It seemed he was doomed to be a poor man, no matter how far he got into the game.

  The old elf took the gems, and slipped the bag into a fold of his robes. “You have proved yourself to be an honest man, Jack. You have spoke truly, and dealt honorably.

  “You say you pursue the evil of Iaxiabor?”

  “Yes,” Jack nodded. “That’s right.”

  “He is not in this place.”
r />   “No. But Aderyn – the guy you killed for taking the gems – had some information about his hideout.”

  Miradorn nodded. “It was he who drew his blade first. He refused to return what he’d stolen. But your point otherwise is valid.

  “He was a man who knew many things. He carried a notebook. Perhaps you can find the answers you seek in it?”

  “I did,” Jack admitted, adding, “There wasn’t as much detail as I hoped, but I know what realm I’m heading to, anyway.”

  “The plains realm,” the king said.

  “That’s right. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

  Miradorn shook his head. “I know only what the earth whispers. It is an evil place, far from here: beyond the sea, many days sailing from my realm. There are dark things there, cruel things and wicked things. Ancient things, and powerful ones.

  “You will do well to think twice about going to such a place.”

  A dismissive and a polite answer presented themselves to Jack. He chose the polite one. “I thank you for your wise counsel, Noble King. But if my courage falters on this quest, all life will perish.”

  Miradorn nodded soberly. “You are brave, and I hope before long the earth will tell me of your success.

  “Is there anything you would ask of me? You have safe passage through my lands, of course.”

  Jack considered, then shook his head. “If you know the way out, that’d be great, though.”

  “The way is enchanted, alas; and only I or my fair bride can lift the enchantment.”

  “Okay. Well, can you do that?”

  The king shook his head, though. “The way out is on the far side of the blessed caves. None who are cursed may pass through the caves.”

  Jack groaned. “That’s right. You two are cursed, aren’t you?”

  Miradorn replied in the affirmative, and delved into a backstory that, Jack knew, was intended to evoke sympathy. And maybe if he didn’t want to get out of the game so damned badly, it might have. It was a classic fairytale: true lovers escaping the clutches of Arya’s evil stepfather to live happily ever after in Miradorn’s kingdom. Except the vengeful Brutmyr had cursed his young stepdaughter and her new husband. He took away her beauty, and his freedom to enjoy his holdings. “We were cursed to hide in darkness forever, out of the light of the sun; for it burns our skin, and will kill us if we are too long exposed.