Drake's LitRPG Megabundle (7 Books)

by Adam Drake

  The muddy path ambled through the undergrowth heading west. He could see evidence of branches cut away for the group as they passed through. The muck at his feet was churned up and occasionally he saw a defined foot print.

  Carefully, he followed the path. The urge to run was overwhelming, but he resisted, choosing to be cautious and methodical. He could easily slip in the mud and hurt himself, or suddenly bump into something dangerous.

  Moving through the forest he got a feeling for how creepy it was. His people had been through here, leaving their homes and all they knew. The sense of foreboding as they were led away into this dark place must've added to their terror.

  He picked up the pace a little.

  After a few minutes he noticed a large shape forming ahead, within the trees, and paused. It was huge, hulking in form, incongruous to the natural terrain.

  As he carefully approached, he saw it for what it was. A giant boulder. Standing before it he couldn't help see its resemblance to a bear. He relaxed a little.

  Then he heard a sound. Moving water. A few paces away, masked by the underbrush, was a small creek. It was a several feet across and a couple of inches deep, its water amazingly clear. The path continued on the other side.

  He crossed, wincing at the cold water that sloshed into his boots. He didn't want to stop and wring out his socks thinking he'd wasted enough time already. Now that he was on the move, stopping wasn't an option.

  For twenty minutes he followed the path which barely varied from a westerly direction. Where did it lead? All the way to the mountains? From what he saw standing on Castle Hill, the western forest was big. How long would it take to cross it?

  Something suddenly snagged at his vision and he stopped. Hanging from a low branch was a thread. He picked it off, looking at it closely. No, not a thread, a hair.

  It was long and appeared to be silver. Saif's?

  Could be anyone's, but Saif was the only person out of the tiny number of kingdom folk he knew who had hair like this.

  You have advanced in Basic Tracking! Skill has increased from 3% to 4%.

  He imagined the Sage being pushed along by an amorphous pech, his ponytail snagging on the branch.

  What did pech look like, anyway? Humanoid, most likely. If they can capture people than he figured they'd have to be just as large as their victims, or even larger. And there would be a lot of them.

  Doubt niggled at the back of his mind. One underpowered king versus a horde of highly skilled people hunters.

  Great.

  He continued on, trying to keep the doubts at bay. Gotta think positive.

  A short while later he suddenly caught movement ahead on the path. He stopped, blinking in surprise. Masked by the dense brush, he could barely make out a person walking along the path toward him.

  Elation flooded through Rob. Someone had escaped!

  But as he was about to rush forward, he caught himself. Until he was certain who it was, he needed to be wary.

  He decided to stand and wait for this mysterious person to arrive. Let them be the one surprised.

  A few moments later a man appeared ahead of him, and seeing Rob, stopped.

  Rob didn't recognize him.

  “Oh, hello,” the man said, amiably. He wore a heavy leather tunic, and heavy wool pants. Atop his head was a tight fitting leather cap with a long blue feather sticking out of it. At his belt was a sheathed sword and dagger.

  “Hello,” Rob said. If this was a kingdom folk, he'd expect a different kind of welcome. “Who are you?”

  “Me?” said the man, smiling. “I'm just someone following this path here. Who are you?” He had a thick beard, neatly trimmed. A small scar on his forehead poked out from under his cap.

  Okay, this has gone from weird to weirder. “I'm Rob.” He waited for the other man to give his own name, but he didn't.

  After an awkward few seconds the man said, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Rob. Are you guarding this path?”

  Rob's apprehension raised up several levels at this odd line of talk. What was this guy's deal?

  He decided not to play any games. Rob said, “I asked who are you? What's your name?”

  The man looked affronted. “Well, I thought that was obvious.”

  Again, the man went silent and Rob felt his anger start to grow. “Look buddy, I don't have time to play around. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  The man chuckled, tilting his head back dramatically. “Oh, my manners. My apologies. My name is Gredd and as to what I am doing here, I'm walking east along this path. A path you're blocking.”

  Rob didn't like this at all. He tightened the grip on his axe, casting a glance around him. Was this a trap?

  “Did you see any people pass through here, a large group?” Rob said, trying a different angle.

  Gredd gave the question some thought, frowning and tapping his beard with a finger. “Hmm. People. A large group. Nope, I haven't, sorry. Why? Are you expecting someone?”

  I'm expecting to stomp your ass if you don't start talking straight, Rob thought, his anger growing.

  Rob said, “Buddy, I'm looking for some folks who have been taken by slavers. They went in that direction, the direction you came from. Did you see them?” The hairs on the back of Rob's neck stood on end. This was wrong. All wrong.

  Gredd put on another show of thinking. “No, I didn't. Sorry. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way.”

  “East?”

  “Yes, wasn't it obvious the way I was walking?”

  “There's nothing east for you there,” Rob said.

  “Why is that, my rude friend?”

  “Because I own it.”

  “Own what?”

  “East. All of it. Its mine.”

  Gredd chuckled again, but a tiny hint of concern tinged his voice. “Why, that doesn't make any sense. How can you own east?”

  “This is my kingdom, that's why. In fact, your standing in it right now.”

  “Your kingdom. This here?” Gredd said pointing at the muddy ground.

  “Yeah, that there. This forest is mine, this path is mine, and you've ticked me off something fierce, so why don't you start talking?” Rob took a purposeful step forward.

  The man didn't move. He looked more amused than afraid. “Well, well. So you're the king, are you? How did that come about then? Where's your crown? Aren't kings suppose to have those?”

  Rob was seething, but kept himself in check. This guy was screwing with him, but he couldn't figure out why.

  He weighed his options. Moving west meant getting past this asshole, and every fiber of Rob's being told him it would end in a fight. Or he could step aside and let the man pass if that's what this clown really wanted to do.

  Then he was struck with a thought. “You're working with them, aren't you?” Rob said.

  “Who?” Gredd said. His hand drifted down to his belt, next to the pommel of his sword. “Who do you think I'm working with?”

  “The pech. They've sent you here to slow me down, or something.” Rob was tensed up, ready to spring.

  “Or something?” Gredd said, looking confused. “How can I work for pech if I've never met a pech before in my life. That's the dumbest-.” He stopped talking, his expression suddenly changing to one of exasperation.

  Then Gredd shouted loudly. “Oh, by the Many Hells, would you just kill this idiot, all ready?!”

  He wasn't shouting at Rob.

  A rustling of leaves to his left made Rob turn to look in alarm.

  Something exploded from the underbrush and flew at him. Its speed was incredible, but he got a glance of a man holding a large shield charging at him.

  Rob had absolutely no time to react except to turn slightly in the direction of the attack. The next instant the charging man's shield slammed into his own with a deafening clang.

  Rob suddenly found himself flying backwards several feet, the air rushing out of his lungs. His back slammed into the trunk of a tree, and the sound of hi
s helmet cracking backward filled his ears.

  His vision went black for a moment and when it returned he was face down on the ground, gasping for air, his shield arm beneath him.

  A message appeared.

  You have been concussed!

  He tried to move but couldn't. Stars danced across his eyes.

  Voices approached.

  “Took you long enough.” It sounded like Gredd. “There's only so much nonsense I can babble before it gets on my nerves.”

  “Sorry,” said another voice, low and gruff. “Took me a while to get into position. These bushes are dense. I didn't want to give myself away.”

  Two pairs of booted feet appeared at the edge of Rob's vision which swayed.

  “Really knocked him good,” Gredd said.

  The other man said, “I might've killed him outright if it wasn't for his shield. My Charge works best if I can make full contact with the body.”

  Rob tried to move, but couldn't.

  You are concussed!

  “What was that gibberish he was spouting about, anyway?” asked the other man. “Something about being a king? I couldn't hear.”

  “Yeah,” said Gredd. “Seemed convinced of it, too. King of this land, or whatever. Nonsense. What kind of king wears commoner's trash?”

  Slowly, Rob could feel the sensation in his arms and legs returning. Amazingly, he still gripped his axe.

  “Well, another tale for the campfire. Let's run him through and pick him clean.”

  The feet moved closer.

  Another message appeared.

  You are no longer concussed.

  With all the effort he could muster, Rob suddenly lashed out with his axe at the men's feet.

  He connected with the ankle of one of them, causing them both to jump back.

  As Rob quickly pushed himself up onto his wobbly feet, he could see he'd hit the man with the large shield.

  The man was hopping around, cursing up a storm. Gredd stood beside him, sword in hand, looking at his friend with concern.

  Rob leaned up against the tree, trying to get his bearings. His axe and shield were up, but they felt like dead weight in his hands.

  They rang my bell good, he thought, stars still dancing at the edge of his vision.

  Gredd looked Rob over. “Well, the king wasn't out cold like I thought. You took a couple of big hits, there, but look at you. Up and ready for a fight.”

  The man with the shield recovered and glared at Rob. He held a sword in a meaty hand and was shaking it with anger. “Damn-well sliced my ankle! You'll pay for that!”

  Rob was still recovering from the double whammy and looked at the men in confusion.

  Gredd reveled in Rob's state. “Awe. The king doesn't realize what's going on. Why don't you tell him, Dodger. You've earned it.”

  Dodger hefted his shield, his eyes full of hate. “We heard tell that pech were in the area. So we figured we'd come down and see if there were any scraps from the table for us after they left.” He pointed his sword at Rob. “You're the scraps.”

  “No, he ain't,” Gredd said. “But any coin or items he's got on him, is.”

  “That's what I meant,” Dodger said, looking slightly offended. “He's the scraps. The items he's got on him. And his life.”

  I gotta fight, Rob thought. The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop and he felt like throwing up. He knew these assholes were just toying with him, now. Teasing him until they killed him.

  Purposely, Rob exaggerated his swaying and lowered his shield and axe.

  “See,” Gredd said. “You mashed his brains up good. Finish him off so we can go eat. I'm hungry.”

  With a malicious grin, Dodger stepped closer, raising his sword.

  It was all Rob needed. Quickly, he lunged forward with all his weight, bringing up his buckler.

  The Shield Bash smacked Dodger's own shield, who was unprepared for the attack, knocking him onto his back.

  Gredd shouted and swiped at Rob's left side, striking him hard.

  But Rob wasn't finished. After making contact with Dodger, he immediately swung his axe at his other opponent. His axe bit deep into Gredd's right shoulder.

  Backpedaling, Gredd hurled curses at Rob.

  Rob ignored him, and swung at Dodger who lay dazed on the ground, momentarily defenseless. His axe cracked into the man's bare head with a sickening crunch.

  He caught a glance of a Critical Hit message in his combat log.

  You have killed a Bandit. You have gained 300 experience points toward your next level.

  Shocked at the sight at what he'd done, Rob stumbled backwards, eyes locked on the brain matter spilling from Dodger's skull.

  Oh damn! he thought.

  “No!” Gredd shouted and rushed forward. But instead of attacking Rob, he went to Dodger, grabbing at his still form.

  Rob's vision swayed again, and the feeling of being sick nearly took him off his feet. Gredd was not interested in Rob at all, only clawing at the dead form of his friend.

  Impulsively, Rob lunged forward and sliced Gredd's side. The wound was deep and gushed blood.

  Gredd shrieked in pain and fell back, barely parrying Rob's axe.

  Just as Rob was about to move in for another attack, he stepped in something wet and slipped.

  He fell on his back, knocking the breath out of him. Panicked, he held his buckler up, ready for Gredd's attack.

  But it didn't come.

  When he looked, he saw Gredd staggering away into the foliage, a hand held at his side. In seconds he was gone.

  Surprised to be suddenly left alone, Rob looked over at what he'd slipped in. Dodger's brains.

  Finally unable to hold it back, Rob turned and wretched his guts out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rob crawled over to the tree he'd initially slammed into and sat against it. Stars no longer danced across his eyes, and the feeling of being sick had past.

  He looked over at Dodger's dead body.

  The bandit still clung to his sword and shield, his eyes staring vacantly at the canopy above. The top half of his skull was a mash of bone and blood and brains.

  Rob was aghast at what he'd done. Sure, they forced him to defend himself, but still, he'd never killed anyone before. Not a human being. And the sudden severity of it had thrown him for a loop.

  He looked in the direction Gredd had run off. The damage he managed to inflict on the other bandit was pretty heavy, and he didn't doubt his Axe of Blood would claim another victim. He figured it wouldn't be long before he received another death message.

  The sickly crunching noise of Dodger's skull collapsing played out in his mind, over and over. He'd killed goblins and gnolls, the closest thing to a human, and both times he never felt squeamish after. But killing this bandit felt real, simulation or not.

  At least I haven't turned into a complete barbarian, he thought as he fished out his waterskin to wash out his mouth. Killing wasn't natural to him, not in the real world. But here, it was starting to become second nature, even though the things he fought were fantastical creatures you'd find in books or movies.

  Now he'd progressed to killing people.

  Yet another thing this game inflicted on his psyche.

  And if that Gredd character didn't expire from his bleeding wounds and came back for vengeance, then there would be another human he'd have to kill.

  He grimaced at the thought. So be it. This was his lot, and he'd just deal with it.

  After quaffing a Medium Healing Potion, he shoved his misgivings aside and went to kneel next to Dodger's corpse. Trying not to look at the horrible wound, he released the sword from the dead man's grip.

  You have taken an item: Fine Steel Sword Durability: 25/35

  Damage: 5-9

  +1 Damage

  Value: 1 Gold Piece

  This was a better version of the one he'd left back at the manor.

  With some effort, he managed to remove the huge shield from Dodger's arm. It was easily twice the size of his
own.

  You have taken an item: Large Shield of Charging

  Durability: 42/45

  +5 Block

  +20% damage to Charge Ability