Skull and Thrones: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure

by Eric Ugland

  Skull and Thrones

  Eric Ugland

  Air Quotes Publishing, Inc.

  Air Quotes Publishing, Inc.

  Copyright © 2020 Eric Ugland

  Cover by Sarah Anderson/No Synonym

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of Fiction. Of Fantasy. All of the characters in this novel and series are fictional and any resemblance to people living, dead, or undead is purely coincidental and surprising. Mentions of places are incidental, accidental, and mostly mental. The magic and spells have been researched in absolutely no way whatsoever, and any ill-effects after you attempt to cast them are completely on you. Any science is likely wrong considering the laws of physics are different in places with magic, you dig?

  Also, nothing to see here.

  Also by Eric Ugland

  The Good Guys - Epic LitRPG/GameLit

  One More Last Time

  Heir Today Pawn Tomorrow

  Dungeon Mauling

  Four: The Loot

  Dukes and Ladders

  Roseland - Private Investigator Mysteries

  Volume One

  Volume Two

  Volume Three

  For my staunchest proofreaders,

  Thank you, Ma Rents and Pa Rents.

  I, quite literally, could not do this without you.

  Chapter One

  I was in a room. There was wood paneling on all the walls, and the stone floor had a drain in the middle.

  As soon as I came into being, I felt a horrific pain in my back, and my health bar started draining.

  “Paid a lot for this pleasure,” Insidious said. He was the first member of the Iron Silents I’d ever spoken to, and I remember thinking then, as I did now, that his name was stupid. “Hope you’ve got a lot of respawns. I need to get my money’s worth.”

  And he stabbed me again and again until, once more, I died.

  Chapter Two

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  I hung in the blackness once more and considered my fate. It was not a good fate, at present. Still, I had few options left to me: not respawn or spawn. Was not spawning suicide? I had to spawn in. I picked yes.

  Chapter Three

  I came into being, and immediately, pain.

  "Oh man," the guy said, "this feels so good. Killing you is awesome."

  He slammed the knife into my back over and over again. Pain blossomed everywhere. Then I heard a crack, and felt nothing. Then, blackness.

  Chapter Four

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  I wanted to scream in rage, but also in frustration. Even though I knew the pain wasn't real, I still felt it. I still remembered it. Was this part of the world, or part of the universe? Why was I given the opportunity to respawn when the general public wasn't? It hardly seemed fair.

  Still, only the one option. But I hesitated because I needed to think, and my ability to think was rather limited once I got back to the world of Vuldranni. As soon as I had a knife in my back or through my neck, nothing could possibly exist besides the pain. But here in the blackness, there was relatively limitless time to strategize—

  ALERT: you are running out of respawn time. Your form may be taken over by an alternate entity if you do not respawn soon.

  Well, shit.

  There goes that idea.

  Respawn it was.

  Chapter Five

  I popped into being, and got killed again.

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  Rinse and repeat.

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  Over and over again.

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  Waaah-waaah. You have died.

  Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off the ol’ mortal coil. You have been weighed and measured and found wanting. But, good news! You have at least one respawn left. Maybe you’ve got more. Who knows?

  Would you like to respawn?

  YES/NO

  I lost count of how many times I died, and I started to look forward to the moments in blackness. I even pushed it longer and longer, seeing if maybe I'd reach the point where I wouldn't be allowed to respawn.

  It’s not like I wanted to remain dead, I wanted to respawn, but the pain and experience of dying was horrific. Obviously, there was something intensely visceral about feeling the blade cut through my skin, rub on my bones, puncture organs. Every time, Insidious would change his attack just slightly, so I could never be prepared. He’d stab me in the lower back one time, the upper back the next. Once, he just grabbed my forehead and slit my throat.

  Every time I snapped back into reality, I’d try to enact a plan, but I was never able to act fast enough.

  After what felt like forever, I realized my killer was getting tired. His breathing got heavier, and his stabs were more shallow. Which really just meant that it took longer for him to kill me. How wonderful for me.

  As I hung in the darkness once more, I just couldn't do it. I wanted to let go, to not have to drop back into reality and die all over again. I waited, not clicking the button.

  I hated myself for that, hated that I was giving up. It wasn't something I'd done before, for better or worse. Mostly worse. I'd always been the guy who just keep pushing the boulder up the hill, because fuck you. I decide when I'm done. And I'd never decided to be done.

  Why now, then? I asked myself.

  I watched the warning come up, and thought about ignoring it.

  A small text banner popped up.

  Maybe… one more time?

  That was new. And it was just the kick in the pants I needed.

  It made me want to go in one more time. Because as long as I had one more respawn, I had a chance, however remote, to make the Iron Silents pay for what they'd done. I would go in again, and this time, I was going to jump first thing. I thought about jumping over and over again, and then I selected Yes.

  Chapter Six

&n
bsp; I popped into reality, and immediately dove forward. There wasn't much thought in my head about it — my movement was purely instinctual.

  The asshole behind me swung his dagger, and it sunk into the wood paneling with a heavy thunk.

  That was all I needed.

  I cast Shadowstep.

  Sure, there was a chance I’d be attacked by creatures from the shadow realm. But that was a whole hell of a lot better than being stuck in the kill loop.

  The color left the room, and time began to slow waaay down. I took a look around, and got a good view of Insidious. A handsome, if slightly generic dude who was looking rather the worse for wear. Worn out.

  The room we were in was utilitarian, in an “I really love torture” kind of way. A small wooden table had an impressive array of weapons on it: a dagger, an axe, some bare blades of different shapes, something that looked like a wire with razor blades on it. There was one door out, and no windows. A rack stretched out (ha) along one wall, and an iron maiden stood menacingly in the corner. Its doors hung open, and the spikes looked particularly horrible inside. There was a high ceiling above large beam rafters.

  I reached over, slipped out of the shadow realm, and snatched a dagger from the table. Then I lunged forward and slammed the dagger into the asshole in front of me.

  His eyes went wide.

  "How—“ he started, but then he sliced back at me. I jumped out of the way, leaving my blade buried in his back.

  He lunged forward, leading with his dagger.

  I smacked his hand across, and then punched him in the face.

  He stumbled a little, so I kicked him in the balls. He bent forward, and I grabbed at the hilt sticking out of his back.

  As I wrenched the dagger free, I took the opportunity to knee the dude in the face.

  He took a few fumbling steps back.

  I slashed the dagger across the man, cutting through his loose silk shirt and opening up his torso.

  The guy made a guttural cry, but tried to lunge once again.

  I just stepped out of the way and gave Insidious a helping hand, shoving him faster along his path into the open iron maiden. He met the maiden with his face, making a horrible noise.

  He stood up quickly and looked at me, blood pouring from his ruined face. His eyes, miraculously, were fine.

  I grabbed both doors of the maiden, getting right up in his space.

  "This isn't over," I said. Then I slammed the doors shut and pulled the iron lock down tight.

  Screams and howls came out of the iron maiden. Then came blood — first a little, and then a giant gush.

  I took a few steps back from the man in the maiden, getting my back against the wall. Then I snatched a few more blades from the table and stood at the ready. My heart hammered away, and sweat poured off me. I watched as my opponent bled out.

  GG! You’ve killed a Human (lvl 30 Assassin).

  You’ve earned 5500 XP! You’ve gained 586 respawns. What a mighty hero you are.

  Whoa. That was something I hadn't expected. But it must be why the Iron Silents were so focused on killing other, uh, players. You got respawns and a heck of a lot of XP.

  I waited in the corner for a second before realizing Insidious was about to respawn. It would be much smarter to move while he was dead and couldn’t see where I’d gone. So I corner-jumped up the wall, grabbed onto the rafter, and pulled myself up. I crouched in the shadows under the ceiling, blades in hands, ready to drop and kill at the first sign of movement.

  It never came.

  I don’t know how long I stayed crouching up there, but it was long enough for my heart rate to come back down and for the sweat on my face to dry. With nothing making itself apparent, I did my best to just listen to the world around me.

  The wooden structure made some creaks and pops. There were no other noises — certainly not the sound of someone moving around. My guess was that it was night. And cooling off. I waited a little longer, just to make sure there wasn't anyone being sneaky.

  Nothing.

  I dropped to the ground and opened the maiden. Insidious’ corpse fell to the wooden floor with a gooey thud. I did a quick search of the body, holding back some vomit.

  Four rings, a chain, a talisman, a bracelet, and a heavy pouch full of gold. These guys were certainly into their jewelry. It was probably magical stuff, but it hadn't done much to protect him from me. I tore the man's shirt apart and made a pouch out of the scrap that wasn't soaked in blood. All the valuables went inside there. Next, I grabbed the sword, sheath, and belt my victim had tossed over the table of torture implements, and that went on my waist. I pulled the sword out, noted the delicate white-silver color of the metal and gave it a little swish.

  Unidentified Longsword

  Item Type: Rare

  Item Class: One-handed Melee, Two-handed Melee

  Material: ???

  Damage: ???

  Durability: ???

  Weight: 4.8 lbs

  Requirements: ???

  Description: ???

  I hoped it wasn’t a cursed sword, since I’d already started using it. A weapon was a weapon, and I needed something a little more substantial than a dagger.

  I headed over to the door, leaned my ear against it for a moment, and listened.

  Nothing.

  I pushed the door open a smidge, then peeked through.

  Completely devoid of life.

  The room was quite a bit nicer than my little kill box. It had carpets spread out on the floor, and furniture that looked to be focused on comfort rather than torture. There were even a few paintings on the wall, and a shelf lined with books.

  I took a few steps into the room and looked around.

  Oddly, still no windows. There were two more doors, other than the one I’d come out of. I looked into the nearest and found an open room, about fifteen by fifteen feet. Symbols and circles were carved into the floor. There were lit candles all over the place, but I noticed that despite lots of wax spilled around the room, none of the carvings were blocked in the slightest. It had to be a summoning circle.

  I walked around, looking closely at the carvings, doing my best to memorize them. Then, because the Iron Silents were evil bastards, I took the dagger I’d stolen from them and made a few minor alterations to the symbols and the circles.

  Back into the main room to take a peek at the bookshelf. Lots of books on summoning. Not necessarily spell books — more like on the theory of it all. Bestiaries. Lists of devils, demons, and other entities.

  The only remaining door opened onto a staircase that led up.

  I wasn’t ready to leave yet, because these were the kinds of assholes who almost certainly had secret doors. I ripped a ribbon out of one of the books, and tied it around one of the rings I'd snatched off my opponent. Before more magic, though, I sat down in one of the comfy chairs, and I centered myself. I pulled all my mana together and moved it around my body. The mana channels were still there. Still open, for the most part. There was just a little burning as I cleared them up. A bit of a side-effect from being killed and reborn, I suppose. Then I cast Detect Secret Doors.

  The ring shot out towards the bookcase. I kept pushing mana into it and walked closer to the shelf. It pointed me towards a red book on the top shelf. I pulled at it, and heard a click. The whole shelf swung towards me a little. I pulled it out from the wall, revealing a little room completely lined with shelves. They held a bunch of pouches and bags, plus countless books piled high. I walked over to one of the pouches, opened it up, and peeked inside.

  Nothing. But there had to be something about the bag — otherwise, why would they've gone through the trouble of hiding it away? I pulled out the various crap from my starting knapsack and tossed it onto the floor, stuffing my poor knapsack full of the pouches until no more would fit. Then, I shoved some books in.

  It wasn't pretty, and it didn't really look like it would hold. But then I had a thought, a remembrance of my very first day in Vuldranni, all those days ago.
I’d made some bank selling all the new player kits Etta had on her, when she’d been stuck in her own kill cycle. All my bodies had to be around somewhere.

  I went back into the kill room and poked around some more. I didn’t even need my magic to find the next secret door. Well, it was more of a trapdoor, but still. All it took to open it was to move the chair a little out of the way.

  I saw a pile of, um, me down at the bottom of a pit. The pit itself was circular, like a really wide well, maybe twenty feet or so down. The sides were brick, and I couldn’t see a bottom through all my corpses.

  And, sure enough, each body had a knapsack. And each knapsack would be packed full of all the basic gear. It was telling that the Iron Silents were making enough money that they didn’t seem to be concerned with looting corpses. Plenty of gold in those spell books.

  I jumped down into the pit of me, and did my utmost to ignore the feeling of sinking into corpses. Of my own corpses. But I managed to find a few knapsacks that were’t overly bloodstained or slashed, and pulled them through the bodies to the surface of the corpse-pile. Then, I started into the grim business of pulling the books out of each pack I could reach until I just couldn’t handle the surreality of it all. Climbing up and out turned to be easier than I’d expected, because there was a small ladder along one side.