Champion's Prophecy: A LitRPG Adventure

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  But to forge itself anew, a terrible power must be revived

  That which makes continents tremble and seas vanish

  Only when the solution is struck will the future converge with the past

  The only sound heard was a bird chirping on the branch outside the chamber as the elves sat digesting the words that had tumbled out of Darkness Sigh's mouth. She stood with her eyes closed, head tilted down, as if in prayer. Terran was wondering how he was going to remember all that when a quest notification popped into his vision.

  You have been offered a quest: Fulfill the Shade’s Prophecy.

  Good luck figuring out what any of that nonsense means though.

  As he blinked away the notification the room erupted in questions. This seemed to be the reaction she was expecting. She held up a hand and slowly blinked, quieting the room.

  “I know you are filled with questions. Prophecies often create more questions than provide answers, but it is not the role of the Zythri to answer them. We are only a conduit for the information as it is. The only thing we know for certain is that this pertains to Terran and your burgeoning empire.

  “My instructions were to deliver the prophecy and secure trade between us, but I was given no directions about what to do after those tasks were completed. I am intrigued by all of this, and I would like to help however I can. So if you are willing,” she continued, looking directly at Terran, “I will stay here and provide any help that I can.”

  “That would be much appreciated,” Terran said, noticing several of the council members shifting in their seats. “As for trade, we would welcome the opportunity. I’m sure that could be beneficial to both our settlements. We will need to secure the route and work out the details, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I know alliances with the Zythri have been tentative at best in the past. I sense your discomfort,” she said, looking each member in the eye as she glanced around the room. “Perhaps it would ease your minds a bit to know that I am only half Zythri. My mother was an Offworlder like your chieftain.”

  “I apologize for our reactions,” Petram said. “You are right. There is a long history with your people. I hope that working together now could repair some of that past, or at least begin a better future. Welcome to Gneiss Glen, Darkness Sighs.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at the shaman. “I am certain you have many things to discuss. I will leave you to it. When you are ready, we can work on trade negotiations.”

  You have been given a quest: Negotiate trade and secure a safe route with the Zythri.

  Who doesn’t need more emeralds in their life?

  She seemed to float out of the room, gossamer robes and long dark hair billowing behind her. Her pale skin accentuated her tattoos, creating a ghostlike appearance, but there was a stark difference between her and the four Shades that trailed behind. Their skin seemed translucent and their lankiness made them look more like skeletons compared to her shapely figure.

  “I am not one to decipher meanings from prophecies, but there is much work to do if we are going to secure a trade route with the Zythri,” Lhoris said. “Plus they have asked for help at Wunderlust Keep to clear the quarry. We may be stretched too thin, but I’ll see what we can do. With Grimchar out of the picture, I’m a little less worried about our defenses at least.”

  You have been offered a quest: Help clear the quarry by Wunderlust Keep

  Talk with Lady Aeresteel for details, but you probably need to kill some stuff by some rocks.

  “Thank you, Lhoris. How many more warriors do you think you’d need to make it all work?” Terran asked.

  “I think fifteen or so would do it. I have some recruits that are ready to begin patrols, so I can send them to secure a trade route.”

  “Okay. With all the new arrivals it shouldn’t be hard to give you fifteen. Which reminds me, how are food stores, Kumotake? I assume all the new mouths to feed is putting a strain on our stores.”

  Kumotake nodded. “Yes. We are stretched quite thin. There is a lot more we could be doing in Karst Hollow if we had the manpower, though.”

  “Would twenty new loamers be enough?”

  Kumotake looked up and put a finger to his chin, calculating. “I think twenty-five more would be enough.”

  “Done. Ara, what about you? Have you been able to keep up with armor demands?”

  “It will be difficult with fifteen more warriors needing new armor. I have my eye on a couple of apprentices if we could spare them.”

  “They’re all yours. I’m going to assign more gatherers too. That will help with sap and leaf supplies. Is there anything else we need?”

  Zoras cleared his throat, clearly annoyed that he had not been addressed. “We will need more tenders to help in the crystalline conservatory if you expect more crystals to be grown.”

  “Of course, of course, Zoras. How many tenders do you need?” Terran asked with a smile, trying to placate the elf.

  “Three. I cannot trust any more than that to keep out of my way.”

  “Done. Is it okay to distribute the rest of the newcomers to builders and traders? I’d like to get everyone housed as soon as possible. I will use the seed that is available to grow the Trading Post. After that we can start increasing the orchards and fungi gardens for the increased food production,” Terran said.

  No one objected, so Terran finished assigning the rest of the settlers. He knew that he needed to keep upgrading buildings, but there were not enough resources to spare just yet. The settlement was growing so quickly it was hard to keep up.

  Settlement: Gneiss Glen (Tap to rename)

  +20% defense

  +25% attack

  +20% damage

  +20% food production

  +20% morale

  -5 days seed production

  +5% HP

  +5% AC

  +5% health regeneration

  Level: 3

  Vassal State: Wunderlust Keep

  Essence: 4/5

  Fortifications:

  Bramble wall 1/1

  Watchtower 0/5

  Gate 1/2

  Population: 167/225

  Housing: 20/30

  Seeds grown: 12/30

  Days until next seed harvesting: 0

  Total Buildings: 23/30

  Barracks (Level 2) 1/1

  Fungi Garden 1/3

  Shaman Hut 1/1

  Chieftain Hut 1/1

  Orchard 1/3

  Leaf Armory (Level 1) 1/1

  Weaponmaker (Level 1) 1/1

  Crystalline Conservatory 1/1

  Aviary 1/1

  Archery Range 1/1

  Inn 1/1

  Trading Post 0/1

  Healers Hall 1/1

  Arborist Lab 1/1

  Houses 10

  Occupations:

  Unassigned: 0

  Orchard Tender: 3

  Mother Tender: 1

  Armorer: 3

  Captain: 1

  Shaman: 1

  Tenders: 5

  Warriors: 27

  Loamers: 35

  Weaponmaster: 1

  Gatherers: 15

  Builders: 25

  Vassals: 29

  Falconer: 3

  Innkeeper: 3

  Healers: 3

  Traders: 10

  Resources:

  Food Stores: 509

  Loam: 692

  Healing herbs: 198

  Leaves: 311

  Sap: 18

  Hibernating Shrooms: 18

  Petram sat silently with a small frown on his face while Terran assigned occupations to the new settlers. When he was done the shaman quietly asked the question everyone had on their minds. “Now what are we going to do about that prophecy?”

  Zoras looked down his nose. “I will begin research immediately. Perhaps there is mention somewhere in the lore about the beast that eats the world or the Great Awakening.”

  “Thank you, Zoras. That would be very helpful,” Terran said thoughtfully. “Does anyo
ne have anything else they need to discuss?”

  There was a brief discussion about traders and perhaps giving a council seat to someone who could represent their interests, and Lhoris brought up the idea of creating some rules that needed to be followed now that the settlement was getting bigger. Since no real problems had occurred yet, and the settlement couldn’t grow much more until Terran found the fifth essence, they decided to table that idea until later.

  By the time the council meeting was finished, Terran wanted nothing more than to go share an ale with his friends at the Singing Tree. He smiled as he imagined Flynn tripping all over himself to try to impress Darkness Sighs. But the needs of the settlement had to be taken care of first, so Terran waited for everyone to disperse, then went outside to deliver the four essences he had found in Grimchar’s possession to the Mother Tree.

  The connection to the tree felt both familiar and somehow strengthened. Terran assumed that was because he had finally chosen his Champion’s Path, so the bond with the tree was actually stronger. As he touched the stonelike bark he felt the dizzying sensation of flying that he expected, but somehow was never quite prepared for.

  As his vision soared over the treetops, he saw the signs of war and destruction all over the Rock Leaf Forest. Trees were in flames and entire sections had been clear-cut. Troops had set up camps throughout the land. He began to spin in the air, whirling so fast he couldn’t even tell which way was up, and his vision blurred into a mass of dark greens and reds until it finally faded to black. He somehow knew he was still flying, but he had no idea where he was going.

  After an unknown amount of time, light crept into his vision like the sun cresting the horizon at daybreak. He found himself looking down onto a clear mountain lake. The still water reflected the surrounding mountains and trees that dotted the landscape. The vision felt so real that he could almost smell the cool, clear mountain air and the aroma of cooking fires that encircled the lake, but this was no place he had seen before.

  There were at least a hundred creatures gathered around the lake—elves, humans, and some centaurs appeared to be celebrating together. In the far distance Terran could see the ravages of war on a land he did not recognize. His vision narrowed as it focused on a stone altar next to the lake. From their elaborate dress, Terran assumed it was tribe leaders surrounding the altar, beckoning the others to join them.

  Streams of elves, humans, and centaurs left their separate celebrations and congregated around the altar. A familiar-looking elf prepared to address the crowd. Terran focused in on him. It looked like Petram, before he had the tree tattooed on his forehead.

  “Denizens of the Rock Leaf Forest, we have traveled far to gather here to celebrate the sacrifice of our brethren on this momentous day,” Petram said, bowing to three figures standing next to the altar. “Through the sacrifice of a few we can save and strengthen the entire forest from the brutal war that invades our borders and threatens our existence.”

  Terran watched as a centaur, an elf, and an Offworlder climbed onto the altar and lay side by side on the large stone slab. Petram reached into a pocket in his robe and took out a vial, pouring a drop into each of their open mouths. Terran innately knew they were being given some kind of poison, and he wanted to scream at them to stop. But the reverence of everyone gathered was palpable even in the vision, which soothed him some.

  As if led by an invisible conductor, the elves sang an intricate song as a golden thread of light leaked from each of the three beings on the altar. As the song rose to a crescendo, the thin beam of light expanded and grew until the entire area was bathed in golden, sparkling light, and the feeling of joy blanketed everything.

  Petram, a familiar-looking seed in his hands, reached above his head with his eyes closed. The elven song continued to grow and grow, tempo and volume increasing steadily. The golden light that surrounded everyone compressed, and a small stream began filling the seed in Petram’s raised hands. As the song grew the light filled the seed.

  Terran knew the light was the life force of those on the altar. They were freely giving themselves to fill the seed with their energy. Instead of grief or loss, Terran felt joy and happiness emanating from the crowd and within himself. He was witnessing the birth of the Mother Tree, the tree he had chosen to be a champion of.

  With a renewed feeling of vertigo, the scene shifted and spun again, filling Terran’s vision with darkness. Slowly his eyes adjusted from the abrupt change of the previous scene until he could just make out a lone figure standing in the dark in front of him. The figure beckoned Terran closer as his vision lightened.

  He knew at once he was looking at Andelain, the Mother who had placed her essence within the tree. She looked frail and sunken, her skin wrinkled, but her bright eyes shone with compassion and she wore a faint smile. Her long brown hair hung down her back and shoulders, and her head was encircled by a crown of leaves the colors of autumn. Her skin was a pale gray much like the bark of the tree she inhabited.

  “My champion, we meet at long last. Please forgive my lethargy. I do not feel well these days,” she sighed, and the leaves of her crown rustled in an unfelt breeze.

  Terran dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the floor, his voice a whisper. “Revered Mother, I am honored.”

  “Stand up, foolish child. Save such reverence for the souls that sacrificed themselves to create me. I am but a protector, but I am failing at that. If it were not for the four essences you just delivered to me, I wouldn’t even be able to have this conversation with you. I am but a shadow of my former self.” Her shoulders slumped under the burden of holding the weight of her head, and she somehow looked even smaller.

  Terran stammered for words until she held up her hand to silence him. “I do not have much time to talk with you,” she said. “I have not the strength to continue much longer with my remaining essences gone, but they are gone forever now. You have returned to me all that exist. The rest have been consumed by the necrochanter Grimchar.

  “If the Rock Leaf Forest is to remain protected, a new sacrifice must be made. You, my champion, must return to the place of power where I was created and … to complete the ritual .... Only then can the settlement grow.” As she spoke, her image began to flicker and fade and her words cut in and out.

  Terran watched in horror as her image rapidly faded. “Wait, what? What needs to be done?” he called out to her, but she was gone.

  Terran awoke from his vision on the ground with his arms wrapped around the base of the Mother Tree, tears stinging his eyes. He still felt the joy that emanated from the light of the ritual, but he was disturbed by the words the Mother had spoken. There were no more essences. The thought left him feeling empty and worried.

  He had to find where this place of power was located. He scrambled to his feet and ran to Petram’s tree. The shaman was at his table, bent over a book when Terran entered. His eyes had lost their shiny mirth, appearing dull and dark when he looked up at Terran.

  “Petram, where is the place of power?” he blurted out before the shaman could say a word.

  Petram’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head to the side. “Place of power? You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “You know. Where you did the ritual to create the seed for the Mother Tree.”

  “I do not know. That was long before my time.”

  “But you were there. I saw you in my vision.”

  Petram slowly shook his head. “No. I was not there. Perhaps you saw a long-gone ancestor of mine.”

  “He looked just like you, but without the tree tattoo.”

  “I was born with this marking, as were my father and grandfather. It is the marking of the Mother Tree. As long as the tree has been here, the lineage of my family has been born with their own birth marking. You must have seen my great grandfather. He was the last of my line to be born without it, and was credited with her creation.

  “The only thing I know about where the seed was created is that it was far east of the
Rock Leaf Forest. There was no safe place near here to complete such a ritual, and only sea to the west. The war was raging all around, and enemies were everywhere during that time.”

  You have been offered a quest: Locate the Place of Power where the Mother Tree seed was created.

  You found an invisible tower. How hard can it be to find a place of power?

  Terran sighed. “Nothing is ever easy, is it?”

  Petram smirked, some of the light returning to his eyes. “Quite true. It’s a good thing you are so tenacious. Perhaps there is some lore to be found in the crystalline conservatory about the places of power.”

  Terran grinned. “I’m sure Newt would love the chance to do more research. Thanks for the help, Petram.”

  With all the immediate work for the settlement done, Terran decided to join his friends at the Singing Tree for a round of Ara’s latest brew. Ara had mentioned on her way out of the council meeting that this particular concoction was the best to date.

  The din upon opening the tavern door accosted Terran’s ears. He had never seen the room so full. A small stage had been built in the back of the room, and Jondar stood upon it, strumming a lute and singing a bawdy tune. Half of the room had broken out in song with the jolly elf, and the others were yelling over each other trying rather unsuccessfully to have a conversation with the people around them. Laughter and smiles were everywhere.

  Elsie was behind the bar and waved Terran over as soon as he entered. She filled a mug and had it ready for him before he made his way through the throng of customers and edged his way up to the bar. The elves seated at the bar kindly made space for Terran as Elsie passed him the mug.

  “I don’t know what she put in this one, but it sure makes people happy,” Elsie shouted as Terran took a swig.

  He wiped the foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. “That tastes amazing. What is it? It doesn’t taste like an ale.”

  “Ara calls it a cider. She said it was made from the fruits that were rotting on the ground in the orchard. Without enough people to harvest, they had trouble keeping up with things. So instead of wasting all that fruit, she found a way to turn it into something useful.”