The Wraith of Valenastrious: A LitRPG Epic (World of Samar Book 1)

by LitRPG Freaks

  “I ask you to bring me the head of the man responsible for the death of my wife,” the man pleaded, eyes filled with sorrow.

  For a second, Harrison forgot he wasn’t in the real world and he reached out to comfort this stranger. But his hand fell short and he gave his head a little shake. “I accept this challenge.”

  The moment he agreed, a new set of arrows lighted at his feet, guiding him towards the edge of the village and into the dark and dead grove of trees just beyond.

  “Return to me here when you have his head,” the NPC proclaimed, then he turned around and backed up to stand in the spot he had been before.

  The Knight moved up right behind Bishop, grinning madly, and stood before the NPC. Bishop listened as the man went through the same story with the Knight as well, and again when his friend the Rogue made her appearance from the shadows.

  “Great, we all have the same quest,” the Knight named Arthur said. “Hey Bishop, want to join up with us?”

  Bishop smiled politely but took a step backwards, his boots sloshing in the mud. “Thanks but I think I’ll pass for now. Good luck to you both.”

  Arthur and the Rogue shrugged and then bolted from the village, sprinting out into the grove of trees. Bishop watched them go and glanced around. When his eyes landed on a man with a question mark over his head, he moved in that direction and the lighted arrows shifted so they guided him straight to the man named Master Finnegan.

  Bishop wondered when he would get the usual rundown of quests to show the new player all about the race they chose and their place in the story.

  He stepped up to Master Finnegan, a rough character with burns covering half his face and a hood pulled low over his eyes.

  “You have come for your orders?” Master Finnegan asked.

  “Yes I believe I have,” Bishop responded.

  “Good, there is much to do. Smoke rises from the chasm and I fear it will be the end of Samar. Come, my friend, your journey starts now.”

  Bishop felt a hand on his shoulder, and his whole body twisted around as he yelped and they blinked out of the village and landed hard in a quiet open field filled with dark, acrid smoke that burned Bishop’s eyes. He rubbed at them, flinching at the pain. They said there would be some mild discomfort from attacks and other natural elements within the game, but Bishop’s chest tightened. The stinging was so real and he could hardly see through the haze.

  “This way,” Master Finnegan said, and he took off through the field.

  Bishop followed and his feet picked up the pace as his Hunter skills for increased movement kicked in. The skills worked by command of thought. He had yet to attack anything; would it be so easy to do so when he was fighting as it was to simply run faster?

  Suddenly, his fingers on the left itched to press buttons while those on the right guided his player with the mouse. But there was no keyboard or mouse here. This was pure instinct driven by his need to survive. He had no idea what he was running into with this Master Finnegan, but the adventurer in him was resurrected with each step and he couldn’t wait to face down his first challenge head on.

  The field ended and blackened, decaying trees filled the landscape, yet Master Finnegan kept on. Bishop ducked under branches and leapt easily over fallen trees and protruding roots, keeping close on the man’s tail. He wanted to ask questions, but sensed the character he followed would not be so keen to answer them just yet.

  “Slow,” Finnegan said, and he stretched out an arm.

  Bishop skidded to a stop scattering leaves in every which way, panting for breath. “This…this is way too real,” he muttered to himself, resting his hand on the rough back of a tree.

  “The end is real enough,” Finnegan announced.

  The smoke was thicker here, and Bishop squinted trying to see past the few trees before him. “Why did we stop?”

  “The chasm is close. They did not believe me when I told them it cracked. Now, they will have no choice but to face the truth and push their denials aside.” Finnegan motioned Bishop forward and they crept through the trees. “We are the outcasts and yet we are the first line in defense of saving Samar.”

  “Why are we the first line?” Bishop asked, excitement rushing through him to finally understand the race he picked and his place in the game. “What about the other races?”

  Finnegan snarled and a growl escaped his lips, a very non-human sounding growl. “They do not believe the demons could ever break through to our world, not fully. They despise our kind, the half-breeds who have come to their land seeking refuge from a much harsher world.”

  “So we weren’t born here,” Bishop stated. “We’re refugees?”

  “Yes, we escaped a world torn apart by demons, ravaged and burnt to the ground. We are the descendants of those who managed to flee.” Finnegan paused again, whipping his head around to give Bishop full view of the torn flesh on his face. “Our ancestors thought we would be safe here, but they were wrong. Come, it is close.”

  “What’s close?” Bishop asked as Finnegan took off again and his narrowed eyes barely kept the NPC in view. “Finnegan! Damn it.” He tried to increase his speed more, but all his buffs were in use. He spotted him darting between two large trees and then he vanished. When Bishop passed through the same point, he stopped and glared around, pulling his bow off his back at the sudden stillness around him. “Finnegan?” he hissed, resting his fingers on the bowstring.

  The ground trembled beneath his feet throwing him off balance. He slammed into a nearby tree with a grunt of pain and stared wildly around as grunts and a harsh yell echoed from all directions. Another tremor ran beneath his feet, but he braced for it and managed to keep his back pressed against the tree.

  “Finnegan!”

  The NPC didn’t reply and, for half a second, Bishop wondered if he found the first glitch in the game. Green fire burst out of the ground near the trees and he fell back with a yell, clutching his bow to his chest as shadowy beasts appeared on the other side. One of them, taller than the trees with arms the size of the thickest branches and legs to match, threw its snouted head back with a bellow of rage. Wings spread out behind him.

  Bishop’s mouth fell open in awe taking in the giant form of what he assumed was a demon. The others around his feet were smaller, but they too boasted wings on their backs and carried spears and swords.

  “You didn’t join this game to lie on the ground,” he muttered to himself, and he clambered to his feet.

  His fingers drew back the bowstring and an arrow shimmered into view at his bow, ready to be unleashed. His boots slid through the underbrush as he neared the green fire, and he peered down into the chasm it erupted from. “Shit.”

  “Bishop! Run!” Finnegan screamed.

  “You will not escape me, half-breed!” the massive demon raged, and when Bishop looked up again he saw the fighting form of Finnegan clutched in his fist. The demon stretched its neck forward through the flames glaring at Bishop with eyes of red fire and sharpened teeth the size of his whole body. “You will burn! All of Samar will burn!”

  “Not today, it won’t.” Bishop drew back the bow and fired Instant Shot at the demon.

  The arrow struck the beast right in the eye and he staggered back as a bar appeared over his head with a name surrounded by flames: Azriel.

  The damage barely showed up on the life bar and Bishop cursed, drawing back his bow for a different shot, one to bleed the beast called Barbed Arrow. The arrow turned barbed at the tip and, when he unleashed it this time, the damage continued to strike the demon who still refused to release Finnegan.

  “Run! Warn the King!” Finnegan yelled.

  “Kill him!” The demon pointed a gnarled and clawed hand through the flames, and the demons at his feet charged en masse towards Bishop.

  “Oh come on,” he grunted. “I don’t have an AOE yet!”

  He backed away, firing Instant Shot at anything moving towards him, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  A hand suddenly snaked out a
nd grabbed him by the ankle, slamming him to the ground, and his life took a huge hit, knocking him to nearly half health. Bishop barely kept hold of his bow as the demon dragged him towards the chasm.

  “No! I am not going to die like a newbie!”

  His feet dangled over the edge of the chasm and the heat of the flames bit at his feet. He watched his life drain at a slow but constant rate. Azriel cackled loudly behind him and Finnegan continued to scream as the demon tore him apart. Bishop dug his hands in deep and kicked at the demon hanging from his leg.

  With a shriek, it let go and fell into the fiery pit, but Bishop’s hands slipped and his body neared the flames. He reached into his belt and drew out his dagger, slamming it into the ground.

  “You fool! You cannot escape me!” Azriel yelled. “You will come to me one way or another, Bishop!”

  With a yell, Bishop hoisted himself up out of the chasm and rolled onto his back. More demons closed in around him, but an explosion of bright light surrounded him chasing them off. They hollered and screeched in pain. Two hands grabbed hold of Bishop’s shoulders and dragged him into the trees, away from the chasm and its atrocities.

  “You fool! You’re both fools! Where is Master Finnegan?” a woman yelled, smacking Bishop in the face when he didn’t answer. “Where is he?”

  “Azriel, he took him,” Bishop spat out. “Who the hell are you?”

  The woman hovering over him wore bits of leather and chainmail covering her chest and waist. Her boots came up over her knees and were worn nearly through in places. Tattoos in black ink covered her face and disappeared down the front of her neck to her chest. When Bishop shook his head to clear his blurred vision from the bright light, a name appeared over her head: Tavin.

  “I am his daughter,” she announced. “The chasm, it is true then.”

  “Yeah, I mean yes,” Bishop corrected himself. “The chasm is opened and the demons are here.”

  “Father…if Azriel has him, then he is dead.” Tavin held out her hand for Bishop’s and he let her pull him to his feet. “He put his faith in you and I shall do the same. Come, we must return to Harborage and prepare for our journey.”

  “Journey to where?” Bishop asked as he slung his bow back over his body.

  “To Weston, to warn the King and the others what is coming,” she informed him, and she held out her hand again. “Do you accept this quest as your own, Bishop?”

  Bishop nodded and took her hand firmly in his grasp. “I will.”

  XP points burst around him and he heard the clanking of coins as money fell into his bags and a dinging sound filled his ears. Several prompts appeared before his eyes and he quickly scanned them all.

  You have reached level 2.

  New Skills gained: Rain of Thorns, Triple Barbed Arrow, Poisoned Arrow.

  You have received: Demon Bone Bow. Damage 10-17. Agility +3. Extra 10% against those of Demon race.

  You have received: Gloves of Finnegan. Armor +2. Agility +2.

  You have received: Bane of Azriel Earring. Agility +5. Vitality +2.

  Bishop nodded in approval and the messages faded one after the other. He noticed the icon for his bags and his ability tree flashing out of the corner of his eye, but he would wait until he returned to town to take care of equipping the new gear and learning the skills.

  “Good, then let us begin,” Tavin said, following her script. “Before my life ends, I will avenge my father and you will save Samar.”

  She placed her free hand on his shoulder and his body twisted again. His feet hit solid ground a few seconds later and they were back in Harborage surrounded by other NPCs and a few more players who turned up.

  “Hey man! Did you just get back from the main storyline?” the Knight from before, Arthur, called out as he ran up to Bishop. “What’s it like? Getting ready to do it!”

  Bishop glanced around, but Master Finnegan was gone and Tavin stood in her place. “Is Master Finnegan over there?” he asked, curious to see how the player’s separate storylines would interact with each other.

  “Yeah, about to talk to him. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  Bishop told the player good luck and, as Arthur rushed away, he looked around the town. It was certainly different. There were more NPCs and many appeared panicked, rushing to and fro as they closed up their shops and several grabbed weapons to stand near the edge of town.

  “Very smooth transition. I’m impressed.”

  He pulled up the ability tree again and ran through the new attacks. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized one of them was an AOE, and he stored them in his bank of skills to be accessed.

  Upon reaching level ten, he would be able to pick a more specific spec based on how he wanted to play the game but, for now, the skills would just keep being added to his bank until he ran out of room and would have to decide what was more important.

  When he was done, he checked his bags and equipped the gloves, earring, and his new Demon Bone bow. It stood as tall as he was and the weight was true to form. When he looked up again, several exclamation points appeared over a few new NPCs and he checked his story log to see the main storyline had indeed started. Once he finished these few side quests, he would turn the main one into Tavin and they would leave Harborage behind.

  “Enjoying yourself, Bishop?”

  Bishop frowned at the familiar voice. “Dennis?”

  “Ah, but here I am known as Daemyn.” His robes dragged on the ground as he walked, hands clasped behind his back, and grinned as he stared around the town. “It’s quite something isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. The transition between quests and the aftermath is astounding.”

  “Wait until you see the later game. I reckon you have started the main storyline. What do you think of my demon lords?”

  “Azriel was a demon lord?” Bishop said, and he whistled. “No wonder I couldn’t hurt him.”

  “Not yet, no, but soon enough. Now it is time for a break. All the players are being called out of the game.”

  Bishop kicked at a rock on the ground. “Already?”

  “You have been in for nearly three hours,” Dennis explained. “For the first week, we’re taking things slow to ensure there are no bugs that may damage players.”

  “No you’re right, it’s a good idea.”

  “Besides, too much time spent in here and you might lose yourself. We’ll talk again more, Bishop. For now, log yourself out.” Dennis walked away and a staff appeared in his hands as he went. Several NPCs bowed their heads to him, piquing Bishop’s curiosity at how this Daemyn character really was in the game.

  Bishop lifted his finger and dragged down the options menu. He tapped the logout icon and a timer appeared before his eyes counting back from ten. His eyes drifted, closed, and the sensation of falling overcame him.

  “Mr. Harper? Can you hear me, Mr. Harper?”

  Harrison nodded and, when he opened his eyes, saw his tech lifting the visor and removing the helmet. “How’d I do?”

  “Not too shabby for your first time,” the man said, setting the helmet carefully to the side. He pulled the clips from Harrison’s fingers and pointed to the monitor. “You can see your game stats there and your vitals on the right.”

  “Thanks, Tyler, right?” The man grinned. “Blood pressure looks high.”

  “Those would be the times you were fighting or injured.”

  “Or nearly dragged over a cliff into a fiery chasm,” Harrison commented, and they both laughed. “Level 2, not bad.”

  “About average with the other players, starting zones and all,” Tyler explained as he undid the straps holding Harrison in place. “Think your friend is waiting for you.”

  Harrison saw Jimmy waving his arm by the door. “Looks like. See you after lunch.”

  “Dude!” Jimmy yelled and grabbed Harrison excitedly by the shoulders. “That was crazy! I hope your starting area was as cool as mine!”

  “Maybe. Man, I’m starving,” Harrison muttered
as his stomach growled loudly. “Food then we can talk all about it.”

  They followed the rest of the players towards the cafeteria as Jimmy went on about the elf starting area and the healing class he picked to play. Harrison tried to listen, but the sense of being watched distracted him. He glanced over everyone’s heads right before they reached the cafeteria and flinched.

  “Dude, you ok?” Jimmy asked when Harrison stopped suddenly.

  He blinked furiously, but the face he swore he saw was gone. “Yeah, just an intense morning.”

  No way was he going to tell Jimmy he thought he just saw the face of Tavin in the crowd, the face of an NPC outside the game. It’s the lack of booze, he told himself, that’s all it can be.

  Chapter 4

  After lunch ended, Harrison, Jimmy, and the rest of the players returned to the game. Jimmy said he wanted to try and find a way to meet up with Harrison, but the elf starting area sounded halfway across the map. Harrison said he would try and find the zone at least by the end of the day, but once he left Harborage behind, he quickly realized how massive this game world was.

  Bishop finished up the quests in Harborage reaching level 4, equipped his new gear, and set out on the main road. He almost had enough gold for a mount, but until then he was stuck with walking the dirt road leading through the trees. The farther away from Harborage he went, the greener the landscape became until he found himself entering a healthy forest with tall, broad leafed trees, vines, and flowers dotting the road at his feet.

  He pulled up his map and checked his distance to the next town Tavin said she would meet him at. So far though, he hadn’t found any NPCs or other players, and he wondered if he took a wrong turn somewhere.

  The map showed the road he was on and his path from Harborage, the surrounding areas he explored for his past quests, and the spot outside of Harborage where the chasm opened. Everything else was covered in shadow.

  He stared down the road in front and behind him before deciding he was going to break off from it completely. Bow in hand, just in case he stumbled into a camp of baddies, he wandered into the trees, brushing branches gently out of his path.