Citadel of Smoke: A LitRPG and GameLit Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 4)

by Carrie Summers

Base Class: Sorcerer

  Specialization: Unassigned

  Unique Class: Deceiver

  Health: 341/341

  Mana: 557/557

  Fatigue: 49%

  Shadowed: 9%

  Attributes:

  Constitution: 23

  Strength: 11

  Agility: 20

  Charisma: 41

  Intelligence: 32

  Focus: 13

  Endurance: 20

  Unspent Attribute Points: 16

  Where should she spend the points? She’d been sorely neglecting Strength and Focus. That wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily. If there weren’t ways to configure a character’s attributes to maximize the effectiveness of different class abilities, there’d be no point in having the system. But Focus did affect a couple of her spells, Wall of Ice in particular. The higher her Focus score, the more things she’d be able to do in combat while maintaining the wall. On her last adventure, she’d found it a useful spell for splitting up rooms of monsters, but she’d had to keep her attention on the spell to prevent the barrier from shattering. It had limited her ability to otherwise contribute to the fight.

  She put three points into Focus, then stared at the Strength attribute. From a pure min-maxing standpoint, boosting her Strength wouldn’t do anything to increase her character’s combat power. But her in-game goals went beyond constant combat and adventuring. And she was getting tired of having her backpack drag so hard on her shoulders. Sometimes, it would just be nice to move heavy things around without having to find someone strong enough to help.

  It might not be the optimal character build, but basically, Devon had to live in her weakling body, and she was getting kind of tired of feeling so physically puny. She put two points into Strength and a couple into Constitution to increase her health pool.

  That left nine unassigned points, which she divided evenly between the abilities that had a more direct influence on her class effectiveness: Charisma, Intelligence, and Endurance. The changes improved her mana pool, spell damage, and regeneration respectively.

  As she accepted the changes and closed the window, she noticed that Hazel was peering into the undergrowth, a puzzled look on her face.

  “What is it?” Devon asked quietly.

  Hazel blinked. “I thought I heard something, but maybe it was my imagination.”

  “What kind of something?” Now that they were once again outside the city’s borders, the surrounding jungle was a bedlam of squawks and chittering and rustling. Devon had no clue how the woman could hear anything in the ruckus.

  “It sounded like…like chanting I guess.”

  Devon raised an eyebrow. “Chanting?”

  “A woman’s voice. I think.”

  “How far?”

  “Near.” Hazel pointed to a curtain of vines that stretched between the thick trunks of a pair of giant trees. “Just through there.”

  Standing straight, Devon twisted her spine to work the kinks from muscles that had stiffened after their sprint. A bit frazzled after their encounter with the Stone Guardian, she wasn’t exactly keen to confront some chanting stranger. But seeing as she was the so-called leader of Stonehaven, she owed it to the settlement’s citizens to investigate. For all she knew, it might be another twisted creation of the corrupted awakening stones. A jungle tapir brought to sentience with a human’s voice and a delusion of becoming a witch doctor.

  “Might as well get that whip back out,” Devon said as she stepped toward the edge of the clearing.

  ***

  “Well, you’re not an awakened tapir,” Devon said as she faced the ragged-looking woman across a small, leaf-strewn ruin that might have once been a shrine. When she and Hazel had crept from the undergrowth, their weapons drawn and breath held, the woman had simply stood from a cross-legged seat and nodded a greeting.

  “Is that what you were expecting?” the woman asked. Though torn and stiff with dried mud, her garments looked as if they might have once been white robes of some sort. A braided blue cord circled her waist, and she wore sturdy leather shoes that were nonetheless battered by what must have been a long journey.

  Devon shrugged. “Not really. But I wasn’t expecting a…” Her brow furrowed. “Priestess?”

  The woman inclined her head. “Sworn to Veia since my fifteenth year. I’m Shavari.”

  Shavari. Was that a name or some kind of religious order? Devon didn’t want to come off as a total idiot, so she simply nodded.

  “Hi, Shavari,” Hazel said, sparing Devon the need to figure it out. “I’m Hazel and this is Mayor Devon.”

  “A mayor?” Shavari said, tilting her chin. “Of?”

  “Stonehaven. The nearest settlement. Did you come from Eltera City?”

  Shavari looked down at her bedraggled clothing. “I suppose I do look like a refugee, don’t I? And I suppose I am, in a sense. But I think of myself as more of a pilgrim.”

  “To…Ishildar?” Devon asked, taking a bit of a wild leap.

  “The very same.”

  “You know it’s currently guarded by a group of stone giants, right?”

  The woman gave a wry smile, a strand of chestnut hair falling across her face. “I had the unpleasant surprise of discovering that.”

  “If you’re not from Eltera City, where did you come from?” Hazel asked.

  A conflicted look crossed the woman’s face. She blinked as if to force away emotions. “The order of Veian devotees maintains a number of temples across the continent. Many of our priests and priestesses prefer to remain cloistered, ministering to pilgrims and penitents, but rarely leaving the temple halls. One of the largest of these sanctuaries was near Eltera City, tucked into the hill country to the north.”

  As far as answers went, that was kind of vague. Was the woman saying she’d been cloistered there until leaving for Ishildar? Or was she just spewing canned NPC dialogue that Devon was supposed to pay attention to? Ordinarily in Relic Online, the NPCs didn’t just give infodumps to cram the game’s world-building down the players’ throats. But there was always a first time.

  “So…you came from there?”

  “It had been my most recent residence. As a prophetess, I often traveled to carry Veia’s word amongst the faithful.”

  “Wait. A priestess and a prophetess? Anything else?”

  Again a smile tickled the corners of the woman’s mouth. “I suppose this has been something of an unordered introduction. Yes, in short, I am one of the Five, blessed—or cursed, as it sometimes feels—with visions sent directly from our creator goddess. Before receiving my first Seeing, I was a mere acolyte studying at a small monastery far to the north. When the vision came, I was sure it was my imagination. A delusion of grandeur. But word arrived via pigeon that one of the Five had recently died in her sleep. As is the way of things, the ability could have already arisen in any of the faithful, but it usually chooses someone with greater experience. My mentor didn’t believe me until I predicted an unseasonable snowstorm that closed the road for a full tenday.”

  Okay, so Shavari was some kind of seer. Devon shifted her weight to her other foot. Given recent events, she had a sneaking suspicion that the woman had been sent visions about a champion, someone who would reclaim the power of Ishildar.

  “I kinda get it already, game,” she muttered.

  “Pardon?” the woman asked.

  Devon shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, nothing important. So you came from the temple near Eltera City? Why? Was it a vision?”

  Shavari pressed her lips together and glanced over Devon’s shoulder toward the ruins of Ishildar. She sighed. “Not exactly. Unfortunately, I haven’t received a vision in quite some time. I don’t want to suggest that Veia has abandoned the faithful, but I’m terribly frightened by recent events.”

  “The demon attacks?”

  The priestess nodded. “They came from nowhere. Eltera City was devastated. Groups of starborn have rallied, leading defen
sive counterattacks that restored some order, but isolated strikes continue to surprise the citizens who remain. Unfortunately, my home temple wasn’t so fortunate. Most of the cloistered faithful were mere scholars, lacking any ability to defend the halls. When I arrived, having heard of the troubles, the temple was in ruins. No one remained alive.”

  Devon grimaced, feeling a little guilty for her egotistical thoughts about the woman’s purpose here. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “Thank you. I take solace in knowing the acolytes and devotees have moved on to communion with Veia. Or at least, I attempt to take solace. But now that I no longer seem able to perform Seeings, I wonder whether there is communion to be found. Is our goddess so pressed by the dark forces of Zaa that she can no longer offer peace? Are their souls lost, waiting for sanctuary that will never come?” Shavari shook her head and waved her hand as if to brush away the conversation. “I shouldn’t burden you with my worries. In truth, it’s self-centered for me to imagine my lack of visions means anything so significant. Perhaps I’ve simply displeased her.”

  Devon wasn’t sure what to say. Back in the real world, if someone called themselves self-centered, she’d probably be expected to start arguing the opposite side. At least, that’s what most people seemed to expect. That didn’t seem to be the proper tactic with Shavari though.

  “Anyway,” the woman said, seeming to take note of Devon’s hesitation, “you asked why I’m here, and I answered with anything but my reason. The truth is, I came because I don’t know what else to do. I’m deeply afraid that a final conflict approaches. Veia against Zaa, a battle for the very soul of the world. So far, we’ve only experienced the initial skirmishes, and—unfortunately—it seems that Zaa commands the stronger forces. The ragtag defenses in Eltera City managed to restore some control, but they’re defending some of the best fortifications Veia’s followers have constructed. Imagine if an army of Veian followers marched on Demonhome in Zaa’s plane of existence. We’d be slaughtered.”

  Devon nodded. True, she’d come out on the winning side against the demons she’d personally encountered. But she hadn’t even considered that the beasts had been fighting in enemy territory. How much more difficult would it be to attack them on their home turf?

  The woman sighed. “I truly believe we will lose the coming war unless we change the rules. There are a small handful of locations across the world where Veia’s power was once said to flow a hundred times more strongly than it does now…”

  Shavari trailed off, her gaze once again wandering to Ishildar’s ruins. The woman really liked to beat around the bush. Was that a habit gained after years as a prophetess? Speak enough jibber jabber, and people would start to pick out truth from inside any words… Devon shook her head, banishing the uncharitable thought. Today’s failure to explore the city had left her impatient.

  “So you came in hopes of reclaiming Ishildar’s power for Veia,” Devon said.

  Shavari’s eyebrows raised. “You know of the city’s ancient strength? I thought only scholars and historians had any memory of its former glory.”

  Devon shrugged. “I’ve been told a few things.”

  “She’s Ishildar’s champion,” Hazel piped up. “She already has three of the relics.”

  Shavari’s eyelids fluttered in astonishment. “The champion…” She looked Devon up and down, and a look of concern stole over her face. “No offense, but I…well…after reading the old stories and subsequent Seeings from some of my predecessors, I assumed the champion would be more…I don’t know…”

  The priestess seemed to think better of carrying on and instead dropped her gaze to the muddy ground at their feet. Beside Devon, Hazel tensed, her boots taking a wider stance. She sucked in a deep breath in preparation for a retort.

  Devon touched the scout’s forearm. No use arguing with the woman.

  “You expected someone more heroic?” Devon asked with a smirk. And because she couldn’t resist, she added, “I’d assumed so as well, but the people who keep telling me they’ve seen me in visions seem to disagree.”

  It was kind of a low blow, pointing out to this so-called prophetess that other people had seen her future. But Shavari’s comment had raised her hackles, especially so soon after Devon’s failure to advance more than a few hundred yards into the city she was supposed to control someday.

  The woman’s cheeks darkened, but she seemed to master her emotions and inclined her head. “Perhaps this meeting is fortuitous, then. I came to Ishildar to discover a way to regain its glory. And the woman who claims she can do that has all but tripped over me while I meditated in search of guidance. Veia works in mysterious ways. But, before I place my strength at your disposal, I need proof that you are worthy of my support.”

  A quest popup appeared.

  Shavari is offering you a quest: Prove your worth.

  A high-level priestess, one of Veia’s five chosen prophets, is willing to aid you in your quest for restoring Ishildar. But without a vision to guide her, she needs proof before committing her support.

  Objective: Prove that Veia has chosen you as the Champion. (Hint: merely possessing the relics isn’t going to cut it)

  Reward: Shavari’s allegiance

  Accept? Y/N

  Devon chewed her lip as she read the quest text. “What kind of proof do you want? Testimonials? The first person that decided I was a worthy champion was a thousand-year-old lich who died shortly after. My wisp guide Bob used to be the lich’s companion. It could testify on behalf of its former master.”

  The woman shook her head. “Arcane manifestations are notoriously untrustworthy. Their energy is guided neither by Veia nor Zaa, so they have no real moral compass. Truth is…conditional for them.”

  Devon smirked. “Hey, Bob, you getting this?”

  As if on cue, the wisp came circling down from the treetops. It shimmered angrily, seeming dangerously close to booping the priestess’s nose.

  “I see no reason to dignify that allegation with a response,” it said.

  Devon sighed, still staring at the quest prompt. “The felsen people had a prophecy as well. It involved me walking into phoenix fire to prove myself. You can trek up into the mountains and ask them.”

  Shavari’s brow knit. “The vanished race? I thought they’d been wiped out centuries ago.”

  Devon nodded, feeling inordinately pleased over dropping that little bomb. “The very same. I kinda defeated their ancestral enemies. A mildly heroic act, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  The woman shook her head. “While I respect all races as creations of Veia, I’m afraid I can’t make a decision like this based on the legends of a foreign people. With the fate of all Aventalia at stake, I must be more thorough.”

  Aventalia? Devon almost asked what she meant but decided that it might make her sound like a clueless newb, the opposite of the quest objective. Not that she was convinced she wanted to jump through hoops to gain this woman’s good favor anyway…

  “You’re asking a lot,” Devon said. “Or rather, you’re asking for something I don’t know how to achieve. I have a settlement to care for and an ancient city to restore. Mind telling me why I should spend time satisfying your request?”

  The woman dropped her gaze and showed her palms, a pretty good imitation of the typical Virgin Mary pose. If nothing else, Shavari was skilled in the theater arts.

  Devon almost commented on that but stopped herself when she realized she needed to cut the woman a little slack. After all, Shavari had come all this way to try to help the world’s people fight off the demon army. Which, speaking of…maybe that’s what Aventalia meant: the world. Devon had actually never asked whether the NPCs had a name for it.

  “I’d like to promise that more Seeings will come to me,” Shavari said. “I’m sure the ability to look into the future would be of great use to your cause—if Ishildar’s restoration is truly your objective. But I can’t be certain, as my link to Veia seems to
have been recently severed.”

  Devon chewed her lip as she nodded. Actually, that brought up an interesting point. Unlike the real world where—unless you believed in predestination—visions of the future were nothing but hokum, the game world could have predetermined events. The AI could alter conditions to make them come true. Devon had been down this thought path before, especially when it turned out that her friends had exactly the skills needed to defeat the final encounter in the Fortress of Shadows once they figured out how to use them. It had seemed preplanned, leading Devon to question her in-game free will.

  “What else do priestesses offer?” Devon asked. She figured there had to be some reason the NPC thought her abilities could help out with the city’s restoration.

  “A few things,” Shavari said as her palms began to glow. Moments later, holy light flowed across the small clearing and surrounded Devon. A sense of power flooded her, and a buff icon appeared in her interface.

  Vitality of the Goddess

  10 Constitution

  Duration: 1 hour

  Oh. Nice!

  Devon kept her face flat though she knew it was petty to hide her reaction. Shavari’s comment about her unsuitability as a champion still stung. Maybe it was the lingering influence of Zaa making her feel insecure, but she also resented the fact that she had to prove anything to this woman.

  “Nice buff,” she said with a shrug.

  “I command a few such abilities. One that might be of particular aid to the true Champion of Ishildar is the ability to identify the magical power of items.”

  Okay, this time Devon couldn’t disguise her reaction, and her eyes widened. Over the last couple months, she’d stuffed a small chest in Hezbek’s cabin with items labeled as (Unidentified). Every time she opened the lid to add another, she’d grown more annoyed with the game for making identification so difficult for people outside the major cities.

  With a small sigh, she accepted the quest.

  “Good,” Shavari said. “Now that I know you’re serious about proving yourself, I’ll tell you one other thing.”