Soulstone_Oblivion

by J. A. Cipriano

  Soulstone: Oblivion

  World of Ruul #3

  J. A. Cipriano

  Copyright © 2018 by J. A. Cipriano

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

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  Also by J.A. Cipriano

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Glossary

  Author’s Note

  Litrpg

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  Also by J.A. Cipriano

  The Pen is Mightier

  King of the Gods

  World of Ruul

  Soulstone: Awakening

  Soulstone: The Skeleton King

  Soulstone: Oblivion

  Bug Wars

  Doomed Infinity Marine

  Doomed Infinity Marine 2

  The Legendary Builder

  The Builder’s Sword

  The Builder’s Greed

  The Builder’s Pride

  The Builder’s Wrath

  The Builder’s Throne

  The Builder’s Conquest

  Starcrossed Dragons

  Riding Lightning

  Grinding Frost

  Swallowing Fire

  The Goddess Harem

  The Tiger’s Offer

  Justice Squad

  Miracle’s Touch

  The FBI Dragon Chronicles

  A Ritual of Fire

  A Ritual of Death

  Elements of Wrath Online

  Ring of Promise

  The Vale of Three Wolves

  Crystalfire Keep

  Kingdom of Heaven

  The Skull Throne

  Escape From Hell

  The Thrice Cursed Mage

  Cursed

  Marked

  Burned

  Seized

  Claimed

  Hellbound

  The Half-Demon Warlock

  Pound of Flesh

  Flesh and Blood

  Blood and Treasure

  The Lillim Callina Chronicles

  Wardbreaker

  Kill it with Magic

  The Hatter is Mad

  Fairy Tale

  Pursuit

  Hardboiled

  Mind Games

  Fatal Ties

  Clans of Shadow

  Heart of Gold

  Feet of Clay

  Fists of Iron

  The Spellslinger Chronicles

  Throne to the Wolves

  Prince of Blood and Thunder

  Found Magic

  May Contain Magic

  The Magic Within

  Magic for Hire

  Witching on a Starship

  Maverick

  Planet Breaker

  1

  She’d really left us. I couldn’t believe it. Dark Heart, the woman who’d dragged us all into this virtual world to fight or die — not to mention leaving us brains in a jar back in the real world — had just ditched us to find Wynn. The leader of the American Guild, the guy who’d put a massive bounty on my head. Who also happened to be her brother.

  Crash let out a little moan and sank onto a nearby rock as Dark Heart sashayed her traitorous ass into the milling crowds of players around us and vanished from view. “What are we going to do, Kahn? I thought we’d get to go home. For a minute there, I really thought…” He broke off with a shuddering breath. “But we’re screwed. I mean, totally, completely screwed.”

  “I don’t know, but we’re not screwed,” I said firmly, despite not believing my own words. We were probably screwed. With Dark Heart gone, and our barbarian Two’ Manchu kidnapped by Sabre, a psycho player who’d been turned into a statue sometime around 1983 and I’d accidently rescued, our party was down to me and Crash, the developer-turned-champion-gamer and battle priest who kind of sucked at battles. And being a priest.

  “What a bitch. Want me to go freeze her ass, boss?”

  And George, I amended silently as the voice drifted up from somewhere around my ankles. “Nah, we’ll deal with her later,” I told my talking rabbit. George was another accidental acquisition — when I’d been thrown into all of this, completely unprepared, I had no idea that players could tame pets until George became mine. And the black-and-white bunny had already proven his worth in battle, time and again. I reached down and skritched behind his ears, just because I was feeling the love. “We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

  George’s back leg thumped happily in time with the ear-scratching. “You mean like that price on your head?”

  “Keep your voice down!” Crash hissed at the rabbit. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

  “Nah. Maybe just you,” George said, sticking his tongue out.

  “Hey, listen, we all need to get along right now.” I stretched some of the kinks from my back and looked around slowly. We’d just arrived in the Town of the Golden Knight for the first time maybe ten minutes ago — at least, Crash and I had just arrived here. I’d learned from Sabre that Dark Heart had already been in the main world, even though we all thought she’d been stuck in the newbie town since we came here to the World of Ruul, like the rest of us. But she’d lied about that too, if only by omission.

  This place looked almost exactly like the starter area, the Town of Silver Gables, except what had been silver there was gold here. Not far from where we stood was the town square, its huge marble fountain edged with gilt as it sprayed glittering, crystal clear water high into the air. Shops, taverns, and stands lined the cobblestone streets, but unlike Silver Gables, some of the shops here were run by players.

  Speaking of players, there were a hell of a lot more here than in the starter town. They were the ones with their names hanging over their avatar’s heads in glowing letters — although some simply said Player. I assumed that word was over me too, since I’d hidden my name when I found out there was a bounty on my head and only my party members could see it. Hundreds of players were gathered here, male and female, most of them appearing human. But at least some had chosen non-human races for their avatars. I spotted a few orcs, a goblin or two, and a whole lot of pointy-eared elves.

  Back in Silver Gables, our party was the only players I met, and everyone else had been NPCs. Still, I owed a lot to those NPCs. We never could’ve beaten the Skeleton King without them.

  Now I had both the Skeleton King’s gear and a soulstone in my possession. The soulstone was
the reason Wynn had placed a bounty on my head. There were eight of them, and winning this game required possessing all eight. We’d been charged with collecting all the soulstones in exchanges for having our brains inserted back into our bodies so we could continue being alive.

  Except Ivan, the creepy guy who was supposed to be monitoring our fragmented selves, was dead. I’d seen him when I flashed back briefly to the real world at the end of my battle with the Skeleton King. When I’d died. I still couldn’t believe the Amulet of Courage had revived me like that, because otherwise it’d be all over right now.

  Oh, yeah. Did I mention that if we died over here, we’d die for real?

  We were definitely screwed.

  “Kahn?” Crash was giving me a slightly annoyed look. “Are you checking your stats or something?”

  “No, but that’s a good idea. I don’t know—”

  “Wait a sec. How about you answer me first?”

  I didn’t even realize he’d asked me a question. I’d been busy contemplating the general screwed-ness of our current situation. “About what?”

  “About finding something to eat.” He looked a little embarrassed. “I mean, how could I be thinking about food at a time like this, right? But my stamina’s way down, and I just … I don’t know. I really want to eat.”

  Actually, that sounded like a good idea. At least it was an active step we could take, while I tried to figure out what the hell to do now. I popped up my inventory window and winced at my diminished supply of Rhuvians. Only a few thousand left, when I’d had more than ten thousand before the Skeleton King’s attack on Silver Gables. I’d spent almost everything to fortify the town.

  “Elizabeth, what’s my stamina?” I said.

  My HUD responded in the voice of Elizabeth Hurley, as I’d programmed it to do. “Your stamina is currently twenty-five percent.”

  “Yeah, okay. Let’s find some food,” I said, and looked down at George nestled contentedly against my leg. “You hungry, George?”

  “If you mean am I having visions of swimming around in a giant bowl of lettuce and carrots, then yes. I’m starving.”

  I held a hand out to Crash, and he took it and boosted himself to his feet. “Don’t worry, man,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.”

  I wasn’t so sure we would, but for the moment I had to believe it.

  As we started through the crowds of milling players, I couldn’t help thinking that everyone was staring at me. Even though I knew my name was hidden, I was convinced someone would realize who I was. Any second I’d hear, “There he is! The guy with the soulstone!” and they’d descend on me and take me to Wynn. Who was apparently level 70 to my level 15. He could probably kill me by blinking a few times or something. At least this was a safe zone and players couldn’t kill other players here.

  But there were plenty of unsafe zones they could take me to. I definitely wasn’t ready to die yet.

  “Hey, Crash,” I said quietly, narrowly avoiding a collision with a huge guy in chainmail who was busy talking up a redheaded elf chick. “Mind if we look for a food stand with an NPC? I don’t think I want to talk to any players just yet.”

  “Yeah, sure, but why … oh, right,” he said with a glance above my head. He could still see my name since he was in my party, but he knew I’d hidden it from everyone else. “Maybe I’d better do that too. Evanna, please hide my avatar’s name.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Evanna?”

  “Er,” he tilted his head away. “Evanna Lynch. She was Luna Lovegood in the Harry Potter movies…”

  “The weird blonde?”

  “I think she’s cute.” He coughed into a rolled hand. “She’s Irish, you know. Her accent is super sexy.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said slowly, trying not to laugh. Big, burly Crash Overdrive, just as slick and muscle-bound in real life as his avatar here, was a Harry Potter fanboy.

  “Anyway. Look, there’s an NPC stand,” Crash said quickly. “Let’s hit it up.”

  We headed for the wooden stand with a hand-carved sign reading Janno’s Fine Comestibles. Behind the stand was a wizened old dwarf in a brown cloak seated on a stool, with random tufts of gray hair on his liver-spotted head and his equally liver-spotted hands folded over a cane topped with a blood red fist-sized gem. He smiled as we approached, revealing three or four crooked teeth clinging to his gums. “Welcome to Janno’s, the finest fresh comestibles in all of Ruul,” he wheezed, attempting a dramatic flourish. “I’m Janno. What can I get for you fine young adventurers?”

  “Um. We’d like some … comestibles,” I said, trying to look around the stand for a menu or something. Behind the counter, there was an empty wooden cart, an empty wicker basket, and a tall stand with three sad-looking plain wooden staffs. I didn’t see anything resembling food. “What do you have?”

  The old man’s gummy smile widened. “That depends. What would you like?”

  “A Big Mac and fries,” Crash muttered.

  I shook my head. “Just your standard meals, I guess. Something nourishing?”

  “Well, then. May I suggest our fine chicken dinners,” Janno said. “Everything an adventurer needs to keep his stamina up during his travels.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Two chicken dinners, please. Oh, and how much?”

  “One hundred Rhuvians each.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I muttered. The food was a lot cheaper back in Silver Gables. “All right. We’ll take them,” I said, and my short supply of Rhuvians got shorter.

  “Hey, you’re buying? Thanks, man,” Crash said.

  “Next one’s on you,” I told him.

  Janno stood creakily from his stool, laid the cane aside and reached under the counter. He brought out two wooden plates, each with a pile of roasted chicken, a huge mound of mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh peas, and half-loaves of steaming, fluffy homemade bread. The food smelled incredible, and my mouth started watering instantly. “Here you are, my fine adventurers.”

  “Oh, yeah. Way better than a Big Mac,” Crash said as he grabbed a plate.

  As I reached for mine, George somehow made a throat-clearing sound and glared at me. I didn’t know rabbits could do that. “Er. Any chance we could get a salad, too?” I said.

  “Of course. Salads are fifty Rhuvians, please.”

  “Done.”

  The Rhuvians vanished from my inventory, and Janno produced a big wooden bowl heaped with lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes. “Would you like any salad dressing for that?”

  “No, this is good. Thank you.”

  I took the bowl in my free hand and noticed Crash was staring at the rack of staffs. “What are those?” he said to Janno. “Are they for sale?”

  “Those? Why, they’re just some old staffs from the Valley of Sto Ryker. Dwarf-made, so of course they are of inferior quality.”

  Crash frowned. “Inferior to what?”

  “Elf-made staffs, of course,” Janno said. “Everyone knows that elves make the best staffs, and dwarves make the best battle axes.”

  “Right. Of course.” Crash looked uncertainly from the staffs to the old man. “But, uh … how much for one of those?”

  Janno looked surprised. “Do you really want one of those staffs, my young adventurer?” he said. “No one wants a dwarf-made staff, you know. Everyone knows they’re inferior.”

  Something in Janno’s gaze made me look closer at him. The words coming out of his mouth said one thing — that Crash would be a fool for wasting money on a staff. But his eyes said something completely different. They held a certain anticipation.

  Crash must’ve picked up on it too. “Yes, I really want one. How much?”

  “For these inferior staffs, I will take twenty Rhuvians.”

  “All right. It’s a deal.”

  After a moment, Janno nodded and creaked his way over to the rack. He appeared to deliberate, and then picked up the center staff and brought it back to Crash. “I must say, young adventurer, I am impressed with you,” he said.
“So few adventurers are willing to take risks, to go against the common beliefs. You have done so, and I believe you will be rewarded greatly.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” Crash said carefully as he took the staff.

  “You are most welcome. Please return your dishes when you’ve finished your meals,” Janno said, flashing another wide, toothless grin. “Those things don’t grow on trees, you know.” He cackled as he settled back down onto his stool. “Trees. Because they’re wooden dishes. Get it?”

  I actually laughed, and Crash joined me. “Yeah, we get it. Thank you, Janno.”

  We carried the food across the cobblestone street to a common area with wooden tables, where a dozen or so players sat eating or talking. As we claimed an empty table, George hopped on to the seat next to me and stood on his hind legs, wrinkling his bunny nose at the salad just out of reach. “Hey, boss. A little help here?”

  I picked him up and set him on the table by the bowl. “How’s that?”

  “You’re a prince,” he said, and dove in.

  Crash was busy staring at his newly acquired staff. “You know, I probably got the wrong idea,” he said gloomily. “For a minute I thought Janno was hinting that this thing’s way more awesome than it looks, but it’s probably just a piece of junk, like he said.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Wanna find out?”