Shattered Lands: A LitRPG Series

by Darren Pillsbury

  The group of cutthroats laughed.

  “Off you go!” Merridack said, kicking Daniel lightly in the ass. “And make sure you don’t try to run off, or ol’ Merridack’ll catch you and kill you slower than any guard ever would.”

  “Great,” Eric grumbled as he and Daniel set off into the marketplace.

  “How are we going to handle this?” Daniel whispered.

  “I’d say stealing some food would be our best bet, so let’s scope out the target first.”

  As they walked amongst the stalls, vendors called out their wares.

  “Hey ho, apples, get your apples here! Grapes, witchfruit, lollops, pears – get it here!”

  “Meat pies, meat pies – lamb, gracklin, chicken, beef! Fresh meat pies!”

  “Fresh-baked bread – wheat, rye, spelt, with fresh butter and cheese if you please! Fresh bread!”

  The smells were mouthwatering. Savory meats, sugary pastries, the tang of fresh citrus… after the stench of the sewers, the scent of food was heavenly.

  Daniel’s stomach grumbled loudly.

  Eric looked over. “Was that you?”

  “Yeah, I’m guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

  “Dude, we’re in a game. Any sensation you’re feeling is digitally produced in your brain by the headset. You’re not actually hungry – the game is making you feel like you are.”

  “Whoa,” Daniel said as the implications sunk in. “That’s…”

  “That’s some real Matrix-level shit right there,” Eric said, impressed. Then added impishly, “Including your ‘whoa.’”

  “Maybe I really am hungry, though. After all, it’s been several hours – ”

  “In the game, yeah, but in real life, we’ve been in less than an hour. Remember the time compression? We basically had lunch, like, an hour and a half ago in the real world, and you just ate a snack before we logged on.”

  “Hold on for a second.” Daniel waved his hand clockwise, and immediately his stats appeared to the left in glowing green.

  Sure enough, his ‘Food’ bar was about halfway down. He also noticed his Strength had dropped by a point.

  “What do your stats say?” Eric asked.

  “They match up with my growling stomach. So I guess we better get something to eat, and not just so Merridack won’t kill us.”

  As they passed through the stalls, Daniel looked for opportunities – but every vendor seemed to watch him suspiciously, even as they smiled and hawked their wares.

  I’m probably just being paranoid, he thought, and reached out and picked up a bunch of grapes from a cart.

  “Three coppers, young sir, just three thin coins,” said the man behind the cart. He was old, with grey stubble and a dingy peasant cap with ties that hung down past his jaw.

  Daniel put the grapes back on the cart.

  The man scowled. “If you ain’t got three coppers, why’re you handling my produce, eh?”

  “Changed my mind,” Daniel said, and hurriedly walked on. Once he was far enough away, he whispered to Eric, “I stole one!”

  Eric looked at him. “One what?”

  Daniel held out his palm. “A grape!”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Merridack’s gonna consider that a good haul.”

  “He said steal something we’d ordinarily have to pay for,” Daniel said defensively.

  “Go ahead and show it to him, then. Maybe he’ll only stick the knife in an inch or two.”

  Daniel grumbled. “Fine – what’s your big idea then, huh?”

  Eric stared off into the distance. “Let’s think about this for a minute. What would we do if we were in a game?”

  “We are in a game.”

  Eric looked at him sourly. “You know what I mean. Let’s say it was a boss battle – ”

  “There aren’t any bosses here.”

  “If one of those guards comes over, I’d say that qualifies. If we were on a quest in a group – which we are – and there was a boss battle… how would we handle it?”

  They looked at each other at the same time and said, “DPS, healer, and tank!”

  ‘DPS’ was RPG slang for a ‘Damage Dealer’ – the person charged with attacking and injuring an opponent. It originally came from ‘damage per second.’

  The ‘tank’ was a heavily armored – and usually incredibly strong – member of the group responsible for distracting the boss while the DPS did his dirty work.

  And the healer was self-explanatory: a third member who could make sure the DPS and Tank didn’t succumb to wounds inflicted by the boss.

  “But we don’t have a tank,” Daniel pointed out. “And we sure as hell don’t have a healer. And I doubt we’d be able to do anything to inflict much damage on those guards.”

  “Yeah – but what does a tank do?” Eric asked excitedly.

  “He distracts the boss.”

  “Exactly. He’s a distraction.”

  “Well whoop-de-doo,” Daniel said crossly. “So we need a distraction. Brilliant.”

  “I have an idea,” Eric whispered. “Get ready – when it happens, just grab a couple of apples and get out, got it?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll see,” Eric grinned, and turned to go.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?” Daniel asked nervously.

  “Just get ready for the screaming,” Eric said as he took off, his black cloak rippling behind him.

  Daniel shook his head in exasperation as he watched his friend disappear into the crowd. “Dumbass.”

  He walked nervously amongst the carts, looking for the easiest target, only to be met with more suspicious stares. He was beginning to despair when suddenly he heard a voice screaming in the middle of the square.

  “OH MY GOD – HELP ME! FIRE – I’M ON FIRE!”

  It was Eric.

  Every single person in the marketplace turned around or craned their heads to see – Daniel included.

  Eric was running around in a circle near the bonfire, the tail of his black cloak in flames. He was screaming and hopping and flapping his cloak, acting like a crazy person as he screamed.

  “FIRE! FIRE! HELP ME, I’M ON FIRE!”

  Daniel’s first impulse was to run and help his friend – but then he realized that this was the distraction.

  Every person in the marketplace was caught up in the show. The drinkers in the pub were roaring and laughing, barmaids were shrieking, people closest to Eric were falling over themselves to get out of his path, guards were racing from their posts –

  And every single merchant was standing on his or her tiptoes, trying to see, hooting and hollering at the stranger about to get burned alive.

  Daniel glanced nervously around, saw that no one was looking, and grabbed two apples and slid them into his pocket. Then he walked quickly away from the cart, out of the line of vendors, and over to the edge of the marketplace.

  A whole flurry of stats appeared onscreen, though he didn’t bother to do more than glance at them:

  New Skill: Thievery

  Points Awarded: +1

  New Skill: Sleight of Hand

  Points Awarded: +1

  New Skill: Evasion

  Points Awarded: +1

  New Skill: Teamwork

  Points Awarded: +1

  Once he figured he was in the clear, he got to a clear spot and watched the chaos in the center of the courtyard.

  Eric was in the middle of trying to get out of the cloak. Five guards had surrounded him – but rather than arresting him, they were trying to help. One was beating at the flames with his shield, and another was trying to use the blunt end of his spear handle to fish the cloak off of Eric’s body.

  The other guards were yelling at him all at once:

  “Stop running around!”

  “Stand still, will you!”

  “Hold on – hold on – ”

  More guards were running through the crowd, who were all jeering and laughing and pointing.<
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  It was chaos.

  Finally Eric succeeded in pulling the cloak over his head. It dropped to the ground in a ball of flames, where one of the guards stomped on it with his heavy boot till the fire was out.

  Though he looked a little frazzled and his hair was a mess, Eric didn’t seem to be injured. The rest of his clothing – black pants, black shirt, black boots – didn’t seem to have been touched by the flames, either.

  “Thank you – sorry – sorry,” Eric said to the guards.

  “Idiot!” the closest one scowled, then picked up the smoldering cloak on the tip of his spear and held it out to him.

  Eric took it gingerly, flapping it to make sure all the flames were out.

  “Why’d you stop ‘im?” roared one reveler in the pub. “We coulda had roasted shrimp!”

  The entire crowd roared in laughter.

  A guard pushed Eric roughly. “Go on, get out of here,” he snarled.

  Daniel caught the look of anger on Eric’s face, though it was there for only a flash. A second later, he’d adopted a look of meek apology as he bowed and scraped his way out of the crowd.

  “Sorry, sorry – excuse me – sorry…”

  Daniel circled around and met up with his friend on the other side of the marketplace. Eric’s cloak was still smoking the tiniest bit, and frayed bits of cloth still glowed with orange embers.

  “Are you alright?!” Daniel asked as they headed down a cobblestone street away from the crowd.

  “I’m fine,” Eric said impatiently. “What’d you get?”

  Daniel pulled the apples just far enough out of his pockets for Eric to see them.

  Eric broke into a huge grin. “Awesome. I didn’t want to have to do that again.”

  “How’d you set yourself on fire without, you know, actually setting yourself on fire?”

  “Easy – I went up to the edge of the bonfire and dangled the edge of my cloak in the flames till it caught fire. I got the idea from when Merridack put the torch out on his cloak. After I got it started, the rest was easy.”

  “Weren’t you afraid you were going to get burned to death?!” Daniel asked, astounded.

  “Naaah – I slipped my arms out of the sleeves beforehand, so I could throw it off any time I wanted. Plus I turned my pain levels way down beforehand.”

  “Wow,” Daniel said, impressed.

  “It was funny, all those guards yelling at me the whole time – I guess they never heard of ‘stop, drop, and roll.’”

  “You weren’t scared?”

  “Well, yeah, of course I was nervous. But it was either die that way or get stabbed by Merridack, so I figured I’d take my chances.”

  “Well… that was freakin’ awesome,” Daniel said.

  “And I got skill points for deception and teamwork!” Eric said happily.

  “Me too – teamwork, anyway. And for thievery and sleight-of-hand.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “Really? I’d say that was pretty easy when you had the biggest diversion this side of a dragon showing up.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Did you do any persuasive begging while you were at it?” Eric teased.

  “Shut up!”

  They were interrupted by the sound of someone clapping slowly.

  They turned around to see Merridack leaning against the side of a building, clapping his hands together. His walking stick was propped up against the wall behind him.

  “Gentlemen – an auspicious beginning to your new careers! Although you, Mage, should probably consider throwing fire in the future rather than sitting in it.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Eric said wryly.

  “Did you get the merchandise I requested, Thief?”

  Daniel brought out the apples.

  “Give them here,” Merridack ordered, and Daniel tossed them through the air.

  Merridack deftly caught them, one in each hand, and took a bite out of one.

  “Not bad for a first haul. We’ll have to up the risk-reward factor in the future, since it would be a pity to lose your head over a piece of fruit.”

  Merridack pulled out a dagger, cut the second apple into halves, and tossed them back to Eric and Daniel.

  Daniel bit into his hungrily. A sweet tang burst over his tongue, more delicious than any apple he’d ever had in the real world. And yet, it was definitely an apple.

  It tastes so REAL…

  “Enjoy the spoils of your first conquest. Half for you, half for me. By the way, that’s the split as long as you work in my gang, so get used to it.”

  A new text box appeared in Eric’s field of vision:

  Quest accomplished!

  Merridack has decided to let you train as a thief under his tutelage.

  “That was the deal you had with him,” Eric said, “but what about ‘pointing me in the right direction’?”

  “You sure you don’t want to become a thief? Or an assassin, maybe?” Merridack asked. “You’ve certainly got the balls for it, I’ll give you that.”

  “Thanks, but I want to be something a little more powerful,” Eric said with a dark smile.

  Merridack laughed. “Fair enough. And a deal’s a deal.” He pointed down the cobblestone street. “Walk until you reach the cobbler’s shop. You’ll see the shoes lined up outside. Take a right at the next street and keep walking until you see the temple. You won’t be able to miss it – there’s a giant robed asshole standing out front. Go inside, and the rest is on you.”

  “Thanks,” Eric said.

  “Let’s go, Thief,” Merridack said.

  Daniel looked back and forth between the cutthroat and Eric. “Can I go with him? Just to make sure he gets there safely – ”

  “You’re not his nursemaid,” Merridack sneered. “He’s already been on fire today, so I think he can get out of any scrapes without your help.”

  “But – ”

  “Either come now, or to hell with you.”

  Daniel looked at Eric.

  “It’s cool – we knew we’d have to split up eventually,” Eric reassured him. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you when we log off. We’ll figure it all out from there.”

  “Okay…”

  “See you soon.”

  Eric smiled, then turned to go –

  “Mage,” Merridack called out.

  Eric turned around.

  “Your little diversion allowed me and my men to make our own rounds, resulting in a profitable afternoon after all, so – here’s your cut,” the thief said as he tossed a tiny leather bag into the air.

  Despite his surprise, Eric managed to catch it. Coins clinked inside the palm-sized sack.

  “Thanks,” Eric said, stunned.

  “Don’t thank me – that was the whole plan. If you two got killed by the guards for stealing, well, that would have been an effective diversion, too. You just happened to get out of it alive.”

  “Thanks,” Eric repeated, this time considerably more sarcastic.

  Merridack just laughed. “If maging doesn’t work out for you, come see me. I can always use a man willing to set himself on fire.” Then he grabbed his staff and started down the alleyway. “Come along, Thief.”

  Daniel turned to Eric.

  “See you…” he said, trying to keep the apprehension he felt out of his voice.

  “See you,” Eric said with a reluctant smile.

  Then Daniel followed his master into the narrow alley, and Eric began his trek towards the temple and his new life.

  10

  Daniel

  After a long and twisting trek through the sewers, their way lit by nothing but a torch, Merridack came to an imposing iron door set into the slimy stone walls.

  He knocked three times, paused, then knocked twice more.

  A tiny, inch-high slot in the door opened up and a pair of beady eyes stared out.

  “What’s the password?” a nasally, high-pitched voice asked.

  “You know it’s me, so open up,” Merridack growled.

 
“Ah ah aaaaah. What’s the password?”

  “Bugger your mother, and bugger you, too!” Merridack snapped.

  Laughter exploded inside the room. The beady pair of eyes narrowed in irritation, then the little slot slammed shut.

  Daniel was wondering if maybe they weren’t going to get in, when suddenly the door groaned on its rusty hinges and swung open slowly.

  Merridack strode inside, and Daniel followed him into what could only be described as a den of thieves.

  It was a gigantic room, easily two hundred feet long on each side, with vaulted cathedral ceilings. Dozens of torches lined the walls and cast off a warm glow amidst the shifting shadows.

  On one side of the room were living quarters, apparently decorated with items stolen from rich households: plush woven rugs, ornate chairs, beautifully carved tables, and piles of pillows made of silk and satin. Everything was stained and dirty, but once upon a time had been magnificent. There were also roughly constructed bunk beds lined against the walls, though those were nailed together out of ordinary pieces of wood.

  Merridack’s men lounged about everywhere. They lay on piles of pillows, smoking hookah pipes and drinking wine straight from the bottle, or they sat at the tables eating and gambling. There were the five from the woods, plus another six Daniel had never seen before.

  On the other side of the room was a makeshift training area. There were dummies held up by wooden frames, their bodies made out of straw-stuffed bags and dressed in tattered clothes. There was an obstacle course of wooden contraptions, with rotating wheels and beams controlled by pulleys and levers. And over in the corner was a massive cage made of wooden bars. Inside, strings crisscrossed the cage like a giant, nightmarish spider’s web, with a tiny silver bell attached to every string.

  “Perfect place to hide out, wouldn’t you say?” Merridack asked. “Only downside is the neighborhood. Don’t mind the smell, you get used to it after awhile. Upside is, you don’t have to go far to take a piss.”

  A skinny, big-eared man stood by the iron door. He was apparently the one who had asked for the password. Once Daniel was inside, the skinny man looked at him distrustfully, but didn’t say anything as he shut and bolted the door.