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

by LitRPG Freaks

  “I hoped you would be to realize the most interesting aspect of my game.” Dennis hung his head as he walked around their station. “Each player and character they create is unique, that’s what makes MMORPGs so much fun to play. You get to create someone who is like you or who is your exact opposite. So why shouldn’t there be a way for different players of different calibers to have different quests?”

  Harrison’s brow rose as Jimmy smiled like a maniac. “You came up with a way to have a random quest generator based on which player is in a zone at a certain time?” Harrison asked, stunned. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “Time, Mr. Harper, time and coffee. Believe me, I have recently taken out stock in several coffee makers. Please, get settled in and enjoy the game.”

  “You found one of those quests?” Jimmy asked.

  “Yeah, and the loot was incredible, so was the rep.” Harrison helped Tyler buckle down the straps to hold his body before he was angled back. “See you in Weston, Jimmy.”

  Tyler slipped the helmet over his head and Harrison pulled the visor over his eyes. He closed them and waited to be transported back into Samar. His booted feet hit solid ground and, when he blinked his eyes opened, he stared around the village of Horsen.

  Other players appeared all around him and he whistled for Reaper. The stallion appeared, but it took a few minutes for Willy to come running out of the trees and jump on him.

  “Hey buddy, where were you at?” Bishop questioned.

  Willy yipped and licked his face in answer.

  “Never mind. We’re covering a lot of ground today.” He climbed up into the saddle and Reaper stomped his hoof, shaking out his mane with a whinny. “My thoughts exactly. Let’s try one of these side roads and see where it takes us.”

  He pointed Reaper to the road leading out of town then veered to the left. If Weston was in the center of this zone, his best chances were to head northwards and see where the end of the zone was. He followed the side road through the trees and fields passing several traveling NPCs and an outpost or two offering quests for killing orcs and trolls, but nothing yet for demonic activity.

  Bishop completed them with one minor mishap that almost cost his life, if not for Willy jumping in. Each bit of gold in his bank was money towards upgrades before the first dungeon. If the event was anything to go by, the dungeons were going to be intense, and he wanted to have the best gear he could afford before going through those doors. Gear was always a determinate factor in a successful raid. Shitty gear meant shitty stats, which meant the chances of actually killing the boss on the first go around were near to impossible.

  “Morning traveler,” an NPC guard said from atop his horse. “Where are you headed?”

  “Not sure exactly,” Bishop replied. “Searching for any signs of strange activity and a quick route to Weston.”

  The guard rested his hand on the horn of his saddle. “Weston is at the end of this road. Follow it clear on, veer right at the fork, and you’ll come into the small town of Brookside. Weston’s walls will be visible through the trees.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Bishop said. He couldn’t wait to take off and see if he could find Jimmy.

  “As far as for strange activity…well, you might not believe me if I tell you.”

  Bishop’s ears perked up at his words. “I come from the town of Harborage. I’ll believe many things others might not. What did you see and where?”

  “To the south of here near the old silver mines, I saw a spire of green fire on my late morning ride,” the guard whispered as he leaned in closer. “The sounds I heard coming from there were dreadful. Sent a chill right down me spine. Screaming and wailing. I went to see if there were injured people to save them, but what I saw…what I saw was not human.”

  “Demons,” Bishop breathed.

  “Demons? I wouldn’t go that far,” the guard said with a nervous laugh. “Dark magic maybe, but there’s no demons in these parts, well except you and your kind.”

  “Only half demon,” Bishop reminded him. “I will investigate this strange activity.”

  “If you insist.” The guard held out his hand and Bishop shook it, accepting the next part of the quest. He flicked the reins and Reaper took off through the wheat field, guided by the arrows beneath his hooves. Willy ran alongside, leaping up and down to see over the wheat swaying in the warm, afternoon breeze.

  Bishop smelt the acrid stench of smoke before he saw it, and he hopped off Reaper’s back. He whistled and his stallion faded away as he crouched low and, with Willy on his heels, stalked towards the trees.

  He paused when he spotted a ridgeline, giving him a good view down into the small valley where the mine had to be. The climb up to the ridge was hard and he scraped up his hands through his gloves, or at least it felt like he did. Of course, his skin was untouched when he checked. Once they reached the top, he lay flat on his belly and crawled to the edge, stifling a laugh when Willy mimicked him.

  The smoke blurred his vision and he squinted to try and see through it. There was no way to get down there without giving himself away and having to fight off any number of demons, or worse, down in the mines. He brought up his abilities and smirked when he saw the one he needed.

  “Now, I see what you see,” he whispered, as he cast Eagle Eye. It only lasted thirty seconds, but the ability would give him an overhead view above the selected area. “Holy shit.”

  Last night, he had heard a few of the demon players talking about their outposts hidden around the zones. And it appeared Bishop had just stumbled into one.

  In the center of the camp was what appeared to be a green swirling portal held between two black obelisks. Most of the demons appeared to be NPCs with skulls beside their titles, telling Bishop he had better stay clear of them. A few of the others, judging by the way they moved and stood around in groups, were clearly players.

  “Well, Willy,” he told the wolf, as his vision returned to normal, “not sure what we can do here except report it to Tavin.”

  Bishop considered picking off a few of the NPCs and maybe a player, but he hadn’t died yet and he wanted to keep it that way for a while longer at least.

  He checked his quest guide and saw the task of searching for demonic activity was checked off. Now, the quest guided him in the same direction the guard said lay the city of Weston. He hoped to find the dungeon door here, but he doubted Dennis would place it within one of the demon outposts. Then again, when the ability had regened…Bishop cast Eagle Eye a second time and searched fervently around for anything resembling doors writhed in flames.

  “Well son of a bitch.” There, right beside the entrance to the old mine was a set of doors; the doors he knew without a doubt in his mind led to the first dungeon hosting Azriel. “He actually placed it here? Damn.”

  Willy snarled beside him and Bishop pulled back, eyes darting around them. The wolf’s hackles rose up and Bishop drew back his bow as voices neared. He spotted their names through the trees: players. There were three of them, and their levels were three below his. He wasn’t sure what the demon classes were though and all three appeared heavily geared. For all he knew, their level could mean very little and they would make mincemeat of him.

  They neared his place on the ridge. Bishop shook his head at Willy and the wolf’s growl quieted, though he stayed ready to pounce if they came close enough.

  Bishop bit his tongue as he drew back his bow with the new version of his original AOE, now Rain of Poisoned Barbed Arrows. Not believing he was about to do this, he targeted the one who appeared the strongest and fired.

  “Shit!” The three players reeled from the hit and Willy charged out of the brush with a snarl. He attacked the one to the right while Bishop focused on Poisoned Barbed Arrow to stun the beefiest warrior in place. It should have held him so Bishop could go after the one on the left, but his target easily broke off the stun and ran straight at Bishop’s hiding place.

  If he backed up, he would fall over the ridge and into
the outpost below. Bishop braced himself for the hit, firing Instant Shots as fast as he could at the charging player, followed by Increased Swift Bow. But whatever class that enemy was, it sure aided him. Bishop’s hits barely dealt any damage.

  “Ready to die, hero?” the player cackled.

  He was ready to drive his double headed axe down on Bishop when another louder roar shook the leaves off the trees. A great beast covered in dark brown speckled fur lunged out of the brush and tackled the player back down the ridge and into the trees.

  Bishop’s eyes followed their fighting bodies until Willy yelped in pain. He focused on the other two players, shooting another round of Rain of Poisoned Barbed Arrows to drain their life while he targeted one at a time with Increased Swift Bow, sending three arrows at a time flying at his targets.

  They rushed him. Bishop couldn’t fend off both attacks at once. The players hit him as one and curses flew from Bishop’s mouth as he was thrown backwards, nearly sliding down the ridge and straight into the camp. He held onto the edge, his bow hindering his grip. But he wasn’t about to drop it.

  “Damn, that’s a nice pet,” one of them commented, right before Willy flew at him all claws and fangs. “Shit! Get it off!”

  The other player rushed over to help while Bishop slipped even further down the ridge. Bishop dug his hand into the rocks, wincing when it snagged on a sharp one, and he peered over his shoulder. Barely twenty feet below his dangling feet were several NPCs, all of whom would one shot him the second he let go.

  Hating what he was about to do, Bishop tried to maneuver his bow to his shoulder, but it missed and he watched it clatter to the camp below him. None of the NPCs noticed, thank God. It disappeared from sight and he cringed at his stupidity of thinking he could take on three players alone. He hoisted his body back up over the ledge and quickly equipped the sword he had picked up and not sold yet. He had hoped to use it at some point, but in a quest, not taking on demon players for the first time.

  He only had a few attacks. He quickly switched to his offhand spec, drew the sword back like a bat and rushed into the fray of Willy and the two demons. He swiped at them both with Slashing Blow, hitting them across their sides, but they were used to swords. Bishop recovered too late and one bashed him in the shoulder. Bishop glanced at his health, grimacing when his vision flashed red around the edges. He dodged the next attack and parried the few after that, but the player had him beat in sword skills and all Bishop could do was watch his health steadily decrease…until the other player screamed and fell flat to the ground. Willy howled and his body slammed into the other player, knocking his sword free.

  Clinging to the last remnants of life, Bishop rushed over and brought down his sword in a killing blow. Both players died cursing him as he drew his sword free.

  Willy snapped his jaws at their bodies as two green orbs rose up together and darted off through the trees. Bishop didn’t want to wait around for them to reach their bodies again. He took off after the beast and the other player still fighting it out in the trees.

  The beast was easily twice the size of the demon, but its life bar was half gone while the demon’s was nearly full. Willy licked at his side, and Bishop quickly fed him to help him heal faster before he set him on the demon.

  Bishop checked his bags as he ran, but he didn’t have a spare bow. Figuring his best chance was to attack from behind, he ran in and slashed his blade over the other player’s back, following it up with Hamstring to try and limit the demon’s movement, ducking under his large sword each time. The beast held the player’s attention for the most part, giving Bishop’s health a chance to regenerate. Even when the player tried to go after Bishop, the beast quickly tackled him back to the ground and bit into his shoulders, digging its claws in the demon.

  “Damn it!” The player cursed, and he swatted, but between Willy, the beast, and Bishop’s constant slicing attacks, they finally beat down his life and he succumbed to his wounds. “Payback, Bishop,” the player yelled. His body stilled and a green orb appeared for a second before shooting off to respawn like his friends had done.

  Willy yipped at the beast and playfully ran around as the great furry creature stood back on its hind legs. Its body was massive and muscular, with a narrow face like a dog, except larger. Bishop pictured a cross between a werewolf and a bear. He spotted the name over the beast’s head and relaxed even more to know he wouldn’t have to take on this beast as well as those other players.

  “So you are a player. Wasn’t sure. Thanks man,” he said, sheathing his sword at his hip.

  Maverick, the player who Bishop now realized was from the shifter class, shrunk down before his eyes until a woman with caramel colored skin and purple braided hair stood before him. She wore leather and fur garb, and was gripping a large spear in her right hand while her other was planted on her hip.

  “Man, why does everyone assume a woman can’t play the big hairy beast?” she commented, and she patted Willy on the head. “He’s cute, he your companion?”

  “Yeah,” Bishop replied. “Sorry about the man comment.”

  Maverick’s lips lifted in a crooked grin. “Nah, no big deal. Not like you can see my breastplate when I’m all furred up. Maverick.”

  “Bishop,” he said, and he shook the hand she held out to him. “Thanks for saving my ass back there.”

  “Yeah, sure. You have any idea how stupid that was for you to attack all three of them?”

  “Now I do. Hadn’t seen any PVP players yet, thought I’d take a chance.” A trade window popped up in front of him with ten health potions for him to take from Maverick. “You sure?”

  “Got plenty, take them before you keel over just from tripping over a rock.”

  Bishop shifted some gold into the trade window and watched the potions fall into his bag. He used one immediately and took a moment to feed Willy again so both of their health bars would be maxed in case any other players came along.

  “Guess I overestimated my archery skills,” he muttered. “They were the first ones I saw. I figured if their levels were lower, I’d be safe. You take them on before I assume?”

  Her laughter was sharp as she threw her head back. “I have, and they’re a hell of a lot tougher than us heroes. Figured they would make it challenging like that. Their levels don’t mean crap. Three levels under you means they can still easily kill you if you’re stupid enough to take on more than one at a time.”

  “That big guy, what was he?”

  She scuffed her boot in the dirt near the dead player’s body. “Call them Demon Knights, big ole brutes. Nearly impossible to kill on your own unless you have a priest with the exorcist spec, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. But there’s no priests at that level yet, so don’t know for sure.”

  “These the first ones you’ve fought?”

  “Nope, but my first Demon Knight that I’ve successfully killed. You have to keep bashing at him, stop them from charging up their big hits. If you can’t interrupt those, you’re screwed.” She lifted her hand and scrolled through her gear as Bishop glanced at the other two bodies. “Damn, damaged my gear.”

  “I can pay for you repairs,” he offered.

  “Good, you should,” she stated. “First time I almost died. What the hell were you doing over here anyway?”

  “Looking for demonic activity.”

  She bit back a laugh. “Think you found more than you could handle there, Bishop. Hunters, they always think cause they have a bow they can snipe everything before it reaches them.”

  “Normally can,” he said, then he felt a pang as he realized he lost his bow, his beautiful blue item bow. He’d have to pick up a new one in Weston before he faced down another big fight. His sword skills were definitely not going to cut it.

  “Not in this game. There’s three more demon outposts in this zone and this is the smallest and lowest level one.”

  “How much of this area have you explored?”

  She grinned as Willy nudged her hand a
nd she scratched him behind his ears again. “Most of the area. I started in this zone. Each outpost is heavily guarded, and the players like to hang out in them, wait for heroes to walk by and then attack. Chickens if you ask me, but whatever.”

  “Anything interesting at the other ones?”

  “Nope, nothing special about this one either.”

  He picked at the leather covering on his hilt as he corrected her quietly, “This happens to be the one guarding the door to the first dungeon.”

  Her eyes widened and she ran back to the ridgeline where Bishop laid only moments before and nearly toppled over the edge. He slipped down beside her as she frowned down into the nest of demons and even more players. “Shit, we’re going to need a raid party just to get to the dungeon.”

  “Guess we better start forming one then,” he whispered, searching for his bow in vain. His eyes roved over the outpost, checking what else he could pick up, when he spotted three players materialize at the far end. “Shit, our friends just made it back.”

  “You have a mount?” she asked, as they backed up quietly.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a two person.”

  She cackled as her body shimmered before his eyes. “Don’t need no mount. I am a mount. I meant for your slow butt. Weston’s this way. Come on, Bishop, you owe me repairs and if you stick around here, I’m not saving your sorry skin again.”

  Bishop watched her shift back into the gigantic beast. “Should’ve been a shifter,” he murmured.

  Willy whined at his side and shook out his furry head as if to say he was beast enough for both of them. Bishop whistled and Reaper whinnied behind him. He mounted up and kicked his heels, chasing after the shifter who risked her perfect record so far to save him. She was almost his level. At least, he wasn’t the only one making waves in this game. He pulled up his map as he rode and watched the way clear before them. Brookside’s name popped into view, which meant Weston wasn’t too far off. He hoped Jimmy would be there, but as the walls of the city came into view, he drew Reaper up short.