SHARDS OF REALITY: A LitRPG novel (Enter the Realm Book 1)

by Timothy W. Long

  “I’m pretty sure that thing could have eaten us and then had room for a cow,” I shuddered.

  “It wasn’t that big. Probably could have taken him,” Oz touched the sword at his side.

  “Yeah. You go ahead and take him. I’ll sit over in a corner with my arms around my legs while I quiver like a six-year-old in a horror movie.”

  “It’s just a snake, man.”

  “Yeah. Just a snake,” I said and fought back goosebumps.

  I let Oz take the lead this time and he smartly stabbed into the leaves and branches that covered the ground before moving a few steps ahead.

  “So it was a sign indicating there was a bandit cave ahead?” Oz said.

  “More a marker. I think it was a bunch of stones stacked on top of each other. In the game it was easy to spot,” I said.

  “Yeah, might be a little harder if we’re not on the lookout. Do you remember anything else about the location?”

  “No,” I said as I stared into space trying to summon up anything from back then.

  I could almost picture the cave entrance, but they faded into memories of too many other dark and dank locations I had explored over the years. I did remember that the guard had been a slovenly guy. He had pale skin and a huge red beard but was also bald. I was pretty sure he carried a big double-handed sword, and he could swing it hard enough to split trees.

  I gulped and decided not to share that little bit of information because it might spook Oz. The bandit would be asleep, I was sure of it.

  “Once we get on this trail, it’s not very far to the cave. There’s a small hill we have to walk up, but it’s best to stay in the woods or close to them, so we aren’t seen,” I said.

  “So once the guard is asleep, we kill him, and then storm the cave?” Oz said and then looked up at me. “I’m not sure I can kill someone. Rats and chitterlings are one thing. A fellow human being is another.”

  “They aren’t real. They’re NPCs. It’s not like we have to kill a couple of real people.”

  “What if they are people like us and they’re also stuck in the game?”

  “I don’t think that’s the case. The NPCs we’ve run into have predesignated routines. Remember the farmer on the wagon back in Candleburn? He was there when we arrived, just sitting there, staring into space. When we left, he hadn’t moved from his spot. What was he waiting for?”

  “Maybe his wife was getting her hair done,” Oz offered.

  “Right. He didn’t even go into the tavern which was less than a block away. These are dumb NPCs we’re dealing with,” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Oz nodded. “We should hit the road?”

  “I guess so. I’m thirsty,” I said.

  “Me, too. Maybe we’ll find a stream along the way,” Oz said, and got to his feet with a wince.

  I had the same reaction when I slipped my sandals back on and stood. The blister I’d pierced on my foot had released the water, but now it was an open wound that would probably fester as I walked. I wished like hell I had socks or a plastic bag to wrap my feet in.

  We got back on the road and proceeded to walk for ten minutes before I had to pause and sit down again. The pain from my broken blister was like getting stabbed every time I took a step.

  “Did dudes in medieval times have to put up with sandals and blisters?” I groaned.

  “Ask Jesus,” Oz said.

  I chuckled as we got back on the road. I gimped along for another few hundred feet and cursed the lack of proper footwear in fantasy land. In the distance, a hill rose next to the forest as did an ungodly amount of trees. Animals scurried through the underbrush as we followed the old road but none of them showed their faces.

  “I’d give just about anything for some water,” I groaned.

  “Maybe we can walk farther into the woods and find a stream,” Oz said.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “It’s probably a bad idea. What if we get lost in there? I don’t know what’s wrong with the compass thing on my HUD, but it’s all over the damn place,” I said.

  “Mine, too. I think it’s a glitch.”

  “Or we’re near a magnetic anomaly,” I ventured.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. We don’t have an actual compass in our head so how could that mess with our direction?”

  “Huh. Didn’t think of that,” I said.

  We wandered onward as the sun dropped lower and lower on the horizon. It had been blisteringly hot for most of the day, but under the shade of tall trees, we had found some relief. Now that the sun dropped, so did the temperature.

  “Look,” Oz exclaimed and pointed to something off to the right.

  We hustled in that direction until we came to a small pile of rocks. The marker wasn’t something left here by accident; this was the location. In the game, this had stood out like a sore thumb. Here it was a lot subtler. There was a rock the size of a giant turtle. On top perched three large flat rocks mounted by another and much larger smooth rock. I picked up the top one and considered the trees. There appeared to be a small path, but it was overgrown and would offer resistance at every step.

  “I guess it’s this way?” Oz pointed.

  “Yeah,” I said and pushed aside a large pine branch.

  Sure enough, there was a beaten path, but it was narrow, and tree roots crossed at random places. We poked ahead and pushed aside more damn bushes and found that the farther we got into the growth, the harder it was to make out the path.

  It led upward and took a sharp turn before straightening out again.

  The hill we had spotted ended up being much more pronounced now that we had found it. As we left trees and bushes, the path opened up and cut between a pair of large boulders.

  “Are we getting close?” Oz whispered.

  “I think so. Step lightly and if we spot the camp be sure not to panic. Just stay still. We’re in shadow so unless they are watching for our approach, they shouldn’t be able to see us,” I said.

  The book thumped against my side, and a hashtag dropped away from my HUD and lined up over my depleted health bar. Then the mark spun and became a pair of boots.

  “Uh,” Oz said.

  “Did you get a new icon?”

  “Yeah. I think this is going to get us some thieving experience,” Oz said.

  “That makes sense. I wish the icons looked like the game today. I’ve forgotten a lot of the old stuff.”

  “Shh,” Oz whispered as we came around another large rock.

  A growth of trees sprouted up and created the illusion of a wall. But the path cut into them, and when we got closer, I realized they weren’t trees at all but large branches that had been chopped off, and turned into camouflage.

  “This is the place,” I said trying to keep the excitement from my voice.

  “Stay on guard. We still have to deal with the guard. Want me to take a look?”

  “Yeah but be careful,” I said, thankful for the chance to catch my breath.

  My tongue had swollen in my mouth, and every time I tried to swallow, there was nothing to wet my throat.

  Then I smelled it, and I had saliva in my mouth.

  Someone was cooking up ahead. I didn’t know what it was, but it smelled like the most amazing smoked meat ever created in the history of food. I grabbed my stomach, sucked in my breath, and tried to bend over as it growled.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t mention it. I had the same reaction. That’s food up there, and it smells better than any steakhouse I’ve ever been to.”

  Oz moved around me and to the far edge of the branches. He poked his fingers between two and moved them aside at a snail's pace. When he had enough of a gap to get a look, he pressed his face close and stared for a couple of seconds.

  Oz withdrew and backed up a few steps, then gestured. We crouched next to each other and put our heads together.

  “You were right. There’s a large rock, and there’s a fire. The guard is there, but he’s
sitting with his back to us. I think he’s sleeping, just like you said he would be.”

  “Not much of a guard,” I murmured.

  “Yeah but that’s good for us. I think we should go in together. I can sneak around him, so I’m near his side. You lean over the rock and bash in his head,” Oz said. “That way if he catches wind of us I can use my sword if the need arises.”

  “We can get a lot of XP if we take him out together,” I said.

  “True but let’s see how it plays out,” Oz said. “Better we get him quickly instead of worrying about killing him together.”

  I gulped at his words. We were about to kill someone in cold blood while they slept. But it was a game, right? This wasn’t real life. It might still be a dream for all I knew, but I still felt terrible. Did this NPC have a family?

  Stop being an idiot. You’ve killed thousands of mobs in Th’loria, and this was going to be no freaking different.

  Oz and I nodded at each other and moved out.

  WE CUT through the branches as slowly as we could, but it sounded like we were a couple of bears crashing through the woods to my ears. The guard didn’t come howling around the corner, so maybe this would go off without a hitch.

  I spotted him right away as we finally made it through the brush, his feet at least. The top of his head stuck out from behind the rock, but he wore a small round helmet. So much for bashing in the top of his skull. I’d have to aim for his face, and that was going to make an ungodly mess.

  I dropped to a crouch and approached the rock on slow but aching feet. Each step was a matter of carefully lifting my foot and then putting my toes down first before the rest of my foot followed.

  Oz stepped on a small stick, and it cracked. Sounded like a gunshot to me but the guard still didn’t move.

  Good. Maybe we were in luck, and the guy had died of boredom.

  Oz reached the large rock and waited while I brought up the rear. He nodded toward the guard, and I took up my station so I could lean over and crush his face with the mace. Oz slid the short sword out of his belt and held it aloft.

  The guard had dressed in a leather jerkin that covered his arms to the wrist. His legs were similarly attired, and his metal helmet had leather sides that ran down his cheeks and neck. No wonder he hadn’t heard us yet; his ears were completely covered.

  The fire was down to mostly coals, but there was a large cast iron pot to the side with a heavy cover on top. Some animals that looked like a pair of rabbits sat next to the fire on a spit. The smell made me lick my lips. A couple of water skins lay next to the guard, and once again I practically drooled.

  Oz pointed at the guard, and I nodded again. I leaned over the rock until I was practically lying down, and lifted the mace over my head. As I started my downward swing, the guard snored, woke himself up with a start, and sat forward. The mace crashed into his helmet and drove it forward effectively covering his face.

  “I’ll kill the lot ‘o you,” the guard roared, but the helmet muffled the noise.

  Oz dashed in and drove his sword into the man’s gut, but it turned aside with a tinkle of chainmail.

  The man grabbed a big double-handed sword and spun to the right as he came to his feet. He swung wildly and would have lopped my head off if I hadn’t dropped backward onto my ass.

  “Argh!” He howled again and swung left to right like a giant scythe.

  Oz got his sword up, but the other man’s massive blade smacked it aside with a heavy clang. Oz’s arm recoiled as he changed hands and shook out his right hand.

  The guard swung around in a one-eighty, and we managed to get out of the way.

  “Hit something, anything,” Oz urged me on.

  I waited until the guard swung again then I leaned forward, dove to my stomach, and smashed the mace into the guard’s foot. He roared in pain, but the noise was once again muffled.

  He fell backward but lashed out with the enormous sword. Oz dashed behind the man and ended it by driving his sword into the man’s neck, a noise like a blade sinking into a melon. The guard shuddered and went still as he leaned to the left, and took Oz’s sword with him as he fell to his side.

  I remembered to close my mouth a second later, then the man’s bowels evacuated and the smell of shit hit us. I leaned over, put my hands on my knees, and puked up a stomach full of acid.

  OZ and I stood near the entrance to the cave and waited for the other bandits to come out howling for our blood. After five or six minutes, I figured that they must not have heard us. Either that or the guy we had just killed was the one bandit that no one liked, and his loss was no big deal.

  We removed most of his armor and gear but left his pants and small clothes in tact because he smelled like crap. Literally. We dragged his body into the wood and dumped it next to a copse of trees and covered him with limbs and leaves.

  We came back to inspect his gear but not before I lifted one of the water skins, popped the top, and confirmed it wasn’t something that would kill us—like mead. I had that once at a renaissance fair, and it was like a fairy puked in my mouth.

  Oz and I passed the water skin back and forth until it was empty.

  We had managed to knock over the spit with the rabbits, but brushing off the dirt and leaves left them looking somewhat edible. I burned my mouth on the first bite and didn’t even care.

  The pot had something in it like soup, but it was filled with big bright red and green mushrooms. Fearing a bad Th’lorian trip, I decided not to partake. Oz took one sniff, and his common sense kicked in as well. That was just what we needed, magic mushrooms on top of this nightmare.

  “I feel kind of bad about killing that guy,” Oz said.

  “I do, too. Hey, how did your experience bar do?” I asked. I glanced upward, and found mine had moved to a hair past the halfway mark. Level 3 here I come.

  “It jumped. I haven’t even looked in my book yet,” Oz said.

  “My little boot icon is still in place. Guess we’re going into the cave?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. If we hang out here much longer, sooner or later one of those guys is going to come out here for dinner, and we don’t want to be caught with our pants down,” I said.

  “Like that guy?” Oz pointed in the direction of the corpse.

  “Pretty much. Let’s divvy up the armor and stuff,” I said.

  His chainmail hauberk was just about the right size for me. His leather armor was adjustable, so Oz took the jerkin and slipped it over his rag of a garment. I shimmied into the mail and tried to look cool, but it was so heavy it dragged at me. I took it off and left it in a heap.

  The two-handed sword was a beast. Oz lifted it in both hands and frowned.

  “Don’t look at me, man. I’m barely able to swing my mace,” I said.

  Oz turned it over so he could read the letters on the hilt. I leaned over to check out the stats, as well.

  2 LE

  7 DU

  0 MA

  8 DA

  “Eight damage. That’s a sweet upgrade,” I said.

  “Then you swing it,” Oz held it out to me.

  “Maybe we can drag it back to the village and sell it,” I said. “No way I can carry that beast around.”

  “That’s actually a good idea. Probably easier to just leave it here and pick it up if we ever come this way again,” Oz said.

  “Yeah, but what if it pays for a few nights in a real bed,” I said. “From what I’ve seen of the outside world so far, I’m in no hurry to sleep under the stars. We’d probably be eaten alive by those shrimp things.”

  “Crawbugs are so disgusting,” Oz nodded.

  The guard had a little bit of money, and a couple of potions in a pouch, as well as a piece of ivory, carved to look like a small pig. One of the potions was red, and the other a light blue with shimmering pieces of orange free-floating around in the mix.

  “I bet the red one is for health. It sort of looks like the one the priest gave us.”

  “It’s got
a little touch of orange. No telling what it might do. What if it’s a sleeping potion? He sure was out,” I said.

  “I’ll take the blue one,” Oz held out his hand. “You keep the red just in case.”

  “We don’t even know what they do?”

  “Yeah but we can probably ask the priest once we get the idol thing and get back in the good graces of the folks in Candleburn,” Oz said.

  “Yeah, that’s a good point. I’ll hang on to the other one,” I said and slipped it into my bag.

  “Wish he had a health potion. I could use a boost right about now,” Oz sighed.

  “You and me both, pal.”

  We split the coins which amounted to enough to buy a few drinks at the tavern. Some bandit this guy was.

  “Woah,” Oz said as he dug through a satchel of clothes that hadn’t been washed in, oh, say—never.

  “What?”

  “I think it’s a flint kit for making a fire.” He took out a short metal pole and a small black rock.

  Oz struck the pole against the rock, and sure enough, sparks leaped onto the ground.

  I tossed the man’s clothes in a pile and found something else at the bottom. As I carefully pulled it out, something tugged at me.

  The parchment had been bound around the center with a piece of blue cloth not much wider than my pinky finger. I untied the knot and rolled the paper out on my lap. It was smaller than an 8.5 by 11-inch piece of paper, but the page was thick and yellow.

  Symbols like circles and half formed crescents made a strange piece of art, but something again tugged at me. A memory, that was it. Back in the old version of the game, spells had been learned via scrolls but they had been abandoned in favor of selecting spells as a magic user leveled up.

  “What is that?” Oz asked.

  “It’s a…” I trailed off because the crimson symbols moved on the page, realigned, and then faded until the sheet was completely blank.