Shattered Lands 2 The Fall Of Blackstone: A LitRPG Series

by Darren Pillsbury

  “I am sure.”

  “Alright… well, thank you for your help.”

  The king didn’t answer, just began walking towards the tunnel – then stopped as though he’d realized something. He turned back around and gazed at Siffis, who sat unmoving on the grass.

  The king opened his mouth, and sounds poured out unlike anything the group had heard up until now. Hissing, popping sounds, like a fire crackling in a hearth.

  Siffis replied in kind, with noises like the hissing of gas from a stove.

  The king looked at Daniel. “Siffis says he will join you, if you wish.”

  “Uh… that would be great,” Daniel said, and looked down at the little fire sprite. “Thank you.”

  The creature just stared up at him impassively.

  Daniel had no idea what he was going to do with a fire monkey – but the game had provided it, and it had helped them get out of one impossible situation. Maybe it could help with others.

  The king turned and disappeared into the tunnel.

  “So long!” Daniel called.

  “Thahnk you!” Drogar yelled.

  “Yeah, thanks!” Vlisil added.

  And far away, from the lake, Lotan screeched, “Thank you soooooo much!”

  The king didn’t so much as acknowledge them. He just disappeared into the darkness without looking back.

  I guess politeness isn’t really a ‘thing’ in their culture, Daniel thought.

  Vlisil put it even less diplomatically: “Wow, he was kind of a dick, huh?”

  “He got us out of there, that’s all I care about,” Daniel said.

  “Doot, he can be as root as he wants, as long as we’re not in Hell anymore,” Drogar agreed.

  “You mean ‘rude’?” Vlisil asked.

  “That’s vhat I said. Root.”

  “We gotta work on your pronunciation.”

  While they were bickering, the stone edges of the tunnel turned orange and collapsed into a glowing heap of slag, charring all the grass around it within a ten-foot diameter.

  Daniel circled his arm in the air and held his breath.

  His stats appeared midair in a translucent green box.

  Thank GOD.

  Level: 21

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Health: 37/100

  Mana: 50/50

  Hit Points: 130/130

  Health Regeneration: 0.2 every 1 sec

  Hit Point Regeneration: 0.5 pt every 1 sec

  Mana Regeneration: 0.25 pt every 1 sec

  Strength: 14

  Intelligence: 17

  Dexterity: 17

  Endurance: 15

  Willpower: 16

  Hunger: 85/100

  Sleepiness: 77/100

  His Health sucked, but he could feel it replenishing second by second. Hunger and sleepiness were going to keep his numbers from fully recovering, though, until he could get some rest and something to eat.

  Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a British voice spoke up. “Are you fellows alright?”

  “Jerome?”

  Vlisil and Drogar looked around at the air. Siffis just scratched the back of his fiery head, completely oblivious to the voice.

  “Hi there. You just now appeared on our screens. I’m assuming you got out of Hell?”

  Daniel filled him in on the last hour of gameplay.

  “Sounds like quite an adventure.”

  “Where are we?”

  “About a day’s ride from Blackstone, but just a couple hours’ ride on your griffin. I’ll send it to your location, and the others’ animals as well. I’ll also reestablish the neural links – I’m fairly sure they got severed when you fellows entered Hell.”

  “Thanks. What’s going on with Mira?”

  “She’s fine. No progress to speak of recruiting any allies, but she’s fine.”

  That was good to hear.

  The fire sprite looked curiously at the three warriors. “Who are you talking to?”

  “You can’t hear him?” Daniel asked.

  “No.”

  “He’s an NPC,” Jerome said, “so he’s programmed to ignore me.”

  Daniel tried to explain to Siffis. “Uh… an invisible friend in the sky.”

  “Your god?”

  “Uh… no.”

  Jerome chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that.” Then his voice grew more somber. “On a more serious note, the armies are gathering tomorrow morning.”

  Daniel sighed heavily. “I know. How far to the dwarves?”

  “You mean the settlement at Morril? Mm, an eight-hour flight, but it’s a four-day ride on horseback. Even if you convinced them, they’d never arrive in time.”

  Bitter disappointment rose in Daniel’s throat, and he looked down at his sword in dismay. He hadn’t been able to get the dwarves’ help, and there was no chance it was going to happen in the short time allotted him.

  Even though the AI and Korvos had failed to keep Daniel in Hell, they’d won overall. Now there was one fewer group of allies to wage battle against them.

  “Uh… Jerome?” Vlisil asked.

  “Hi there, Prescott.”

  Daniel and Drogar both looked down at the goblin, who blushed beneath his green skin. “It’s VLISIL!”

  “Sorry – I was looking at your player profile – what’s up?”

  “Your name is Prescott?” Drogar hooted in amusement.

  “SHUT UP!”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Jerome apologized. “What’s going on?”

  “What about the goblin village?” Vlisil/Prescott grumbled.

  “Same issue – it’s a two-day march from Blackstone. There’s no point in trying to recruit them. Same with the nearest tribe of Hurokians.”

  “Damn…”

  “Should we try anyway? They could show up if the battle drags out forever,” Daniel asked, envisioning a ‘Here comes the cavalry’ kind of scenario.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you – you’re in no condition to push yourselves. You need to eat and rest or you’ll be a shambles in battle tomorrow.”

  He knew Jerome was right. The imprisonment and slog through Hell had totally depleted him. All he really wanted to do was fall asleep under some trees.

  “Besides,” the tech continued, “Varidian put the word out to every player in the nearby vicinity. There’s a good 30,000 players on their way to Blackstone right now, along with however many NPCs Byrel recruited. I would imagine that’s a large enough force to take the city.”

  “You’re probably right. Thanks, Jerome.”

  “No problem. Just address me out loud if you need anything. We’ll be watching you guys.”

  The voice went away.

  “What do we do now?” Vlisil asked.

  Daniel looked out at the pond, where Lotan was leaping from the surface like a dolphin. “First thing on the list is take a swim, as long as there aren’t any monsters in that pond. Then we can figure it out after that.”

  113

  Mira

  As her griffin circled a barren mountaintop, Mira looked at the map Byrel’s men had given her. The drawing showed a black castle and the name ‘Alshurat.’ She was supposedly in the right place, but there was nothing in sight except endless ranges of rocky crags.

  “Jerome?” she said out loud.

  “Yes, Mira?” the British voice answered.

  “Where’s this dark elf city supposed to be?”

  “Hold on a second…”

  There was a brief pause, and Jerome came back.

  “You’re right over it. It’s just that the city is underground.”

  Mira’s eyes widened, and she looked down below her. There were no gates, no large caves, nothing she could see that would signify the entrance to a city.

  “I can’t see any way in – what should I do?”

  “Try landing. If they want to be found, they’ll come to you.”

  She guided the griffin to a plateau atop one of the mountains
, then unbuckled herself from the saddle and set foot on the rocky soil. Tiny pebbles gritted underneath her boots. Everything around her looked more like the surface of the moon than the potential site for a city.

  “Hold, Sister,” a voice called out from behind her.

  She looked around in surprise as a trio of indigo-skinned dark elves climbed up onto the plateau and approached with their bows drawn. They were males, all with long, silver hair, yellow eyes, and tight-fitting black leathers. Unlike the forest elves, though, they didn’t seem overly antagonistic – merely cautious.

  “Hello,” she called out.

  As they approached, they lowered their bows so the arrows were pointing at the ground – but they still kept them drawn.

  “I am Abenaud,” the lead warrior said. “What is your name?”

  “Mira.”

  The dark elf frowned. “That is an odd name for a dark elf.”

  “I was orphaned and raised by humans,” she lied.

  “Ah,” he said. “Then welcome home, Sister. What is your purpose for coming to Alshurat?”

  “I need to speak to your leader. An evil sorcerer is threatening the Shattered Lands, and we need your people’s help to stop him.”

  The dark elf nodded to the others and they put up their bows. Then he looked back to Mira. “Follow me.”

  The trio led her down a ravine, though a small canyon, and into a grotto. Water trickled down the cave walls, and tiny purple-skinned plants hung with pale white blooms. It was the first vegetation she had seen on the entire mountain.

  There was more. The dark elves led her through a twisting tunnel that finally opened into a massive underground canyon. Unlike the Mines of Alark, though, this was no barren expanse of rock, but a lush underground jungle of exotic plants. Phosphorescent ferns glowed violet in the darkness, and shimmering birds with luminescent wings flitted to and fro amongst alien trees.

  Far in the distance, a beautiful city shone in the center of the cavern. Obsidian towers rose hundreds of feet into the air. Glowing lavender crystals embedded in the walls provided illumination, and a thousand domed buildings surrounded an angular palace with needle-like spires.

  The trio of warriors escorted Mira into the city. The streets looked similar to Blackstone’s, except they were paved with shiny onyx – and they were filled with dark elves with indigo skin. Shopkeepers mended their stalls, children played in the streets. No one looked at Mira in curiosity; they merely assumed her right to be there.

  After the cruelty of the forest elves, and the lingering stares in Blackstone, it was refreshing to be in a place where every single person looked like her.

  The warriors took her to the palace, where a major domo heard her case and escorted her to a balcony overlooking the gigantic cavern. She watched waterfalls in the distance that spilled hundreds of feet down into luminescent pools.

  “You are the one called Mira?” a voice said behind her. “The orphan amongst humans?”

  She turned to see a male dark elf in flowing crimosn robes and a crown of obsidian on his silver-haired brow. He looked slightly older than the other elves she had seen, but not by much.

  “Yes,” she said.

  The dark elf king nodded and said, “I am King Ebnsed. Welcome to the kingdom of Alshurat. Have you eaten?”

  They dined out on the balcony, on a stone table set with silver cutlery and goblets. The food was unlike anything Mira had ever experienced in the game before – chunks of tender, roasted meat, prepared in a stew with fruit that looked like dark cherries – but it was absolutely delicious. The wine the servants poured was black as night, but tasted light and crisp with the faintest hint of sweetness.

  As they ate, Mira explained what had happened in Blackstone. After such a friendly reception, she expected the king to immediately offer his services – and was surprised to hear his answer.

  “Alas, I cannot,” he said.

  “Why not?” she asked, shocked.

  “I am sworn to guard the lives of the dark elves here in Alshurat. We are the smallest of the dark elf cities, and the furthest province from the central kingdom. We could only provide you with perhaps 2000 warriors – and that would leave our populace bereft of protection. Our people would be left defenseless against the mountain trolls and stone men who wander the wastelands.”

  “But the sorcerer is dangerous,” she said. “He might show up here one day.”

  “He very well may… but that is a concern for the future, not today. In addition, we have never been treated well by the outside world. I see no reason to endanger my people for their benefit.”

  “Countless lives could be lost,” she argued.

  “Of other races,” the king pointed out.

  “Yes,” she said, slightly irritated by the same insularity she’d seen in the forest elves.

  “Then their people will weep for them,” the king said. “But I do not wish to weep for my own, especially to save those who hate us.”

  “Speaking of hate – why do the forest elves dislike us so much?”

  The king chuckled. “It is an antagonism that goes back many millennia. They would claim some nonsense about our deserting our brethren thousands of years ago and separating from the fold, but in my opinion, the forest elves are in love with their own imagined superiority – and the only way they can maintain their self-created pedestal is if they look down on everyone else. What interactions have you had with their kind?”

  “Well, earlier today I met ‘Laudriel of Aravall.’” Mira said the name mockingly, reflecting the snotty attitude of the female elf.

  “And what was your opinion of her?”

  Mira paused, considered if she should say what she really thought… and then decided, What the hell.

  “Kind of a bitch.”

  Ebnsed threw back his head and roared with laughter. After he was finished, he said, “Yes, I share your appraisal. Did you also ask for her help?”

  “Yes.”

  Ebnsed laughed again. “No wonder you have had difficulty recruiting allies.”

  “The humans said you wouldn’t join, either. What do you have against humans?”

  “Other than betrayal after betrayal, and injustice on top of injustice? Nothing much.”

  “You don’t seem that angry.”

  “Not with you. You are our long-lost daughter, and I am happy to host your return. If a human or forest elf were sitting here, though, my demeanor would be far more hostile. But this is a gathering of family, and so I am at peace.”

  They talked some more. Mira tried to persuade him with other arguments, but the king put her off politely.

  When it was finally time for her to go, the king said, “Is it possible I might persuade you to stay with us here in Alshurat?”

  “Thank you, but no – I have to go rejoin my friends and fight.”

  “Then I wish you success in battle, Daughter. After it is over, know that you are always welcome in our kingdom.”

  The same three warriors from before guided her out of the cavern to the rocky plateau, then said their goodbyes and disappeared back into the crags of the mountain.

  As her griffin took flight under the noon-day sun, Mira felt an unexpected pang of regret… and maybe even of loss… as she soared off into the sky.

  114

  Daniel

  A crystal-clear stream fed into the pond, and they all took turns drinking great gulps of water. Afterwards they swam and horsed around – which revived their spirits greatly, and their Health levels at least partly.

  Drogar repeatedly threw Vlisil like a baseball into the middle of the lake, and then Lotan would ferry him back into shore for another go.

  Siffis just watched from the bank and hissed at the water.

  An hour later their animals showed up. Daniel and Drogar’s griffins, Lotan’s pegasus, and Vlisil’s chikaril.

  “Prescott rides a baby chicken,” Drogar taunted his teammate.

  “SHUT UP!” Vlisil yelled.

  One of th
e animals arrived bearing gifts. Daniel’s griffin had apparently stolen a side of beef that had been cooking over a fire somewhere. The meat was cold and undercooked, but they lopped off chunks and had Siffis quickly finish the job by holding the pieces of meat in his hand for 30 seconds until they sizzled and steamed.

  They lay around lazily in the meadow, eating meat and discussing what would happen the following day. Siffis just sat there like a dog, taking it all in and occasionally scratching.

  “We need to log off and get some sleep in the real world,” Daniel said.

  “Yah, dat’s a good idea,” Drogar agreed

  “Then I say we meet here before dawn. Can everybody do that? I mean, it is a school day.”

  “I’ll just say I’m sick and stay home,” Vlisil said.

  “Same here,” Lotan agreed.

  “It vill be afternoon for me – no sweat,” Drogar said.

  “Cool – then we’ll meet here and fly out to meet Byrel and Mira.”

  “We’re going to show up empty-handed,” Vlisil pointed out.

  “We might have shown up empty-handed anyway, even if we had met the dwarves and all of your tribes. Besides, you heard Jerome about the players – if 30,000 people actually show up, we’ll whip Eric’s ass.”

  “Vhat happened to the lady scientist?” Drogar asked.

  “She got… removed.”

  “Vhat does that mean?”

  “It means they suspended her. I don’t know why, exactly, other than she wasn’t able to stop the AI.”

  He did know, but didn’t care to go into it.

  “For now I say we set up camp here, log out, and get some rest. Then we’ll fly out tomorrow morning.”

  “What good are we really going to be able to do in the battle?” Lotan asked.

  “I know a back way into the city. I’m going to lead a small force inside, and we’re going to try to open the gates so the army can come in. You guys are welcome to come along if you like,” Daniel offered, and turned to Lotan. “There’s even water you can swim in.”

  “Oh!” the droth said, suddenly interested.

  Daniel decided not to tell him it was sewer water, though. That could wait for later.