Skull and Thrones: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure

by Eric Ugland

  I sat down next to him.

  We were looking into a koi pond. Surprisingly deep, with lots of fish. One end had a small stand of thin trees, something that looked a lot like bamboo, but was more flowery.

  "It would seem, Clyde Hatchett," the man said, "that we are fated to keep meeting."

  "Have we met before?" I asked. I tried hard to place the man, but failed.

  "We have not," he said, "I was more using the organizational we."

  "I didn't realize that was a thing."

  "I'm tired," he said. "I didn't get much sleep last night as I was busy trying to quell an international incident."

  "I don't know who you are, but you sound important. Is there some manner in which I'm involved with said incident?"

  "Oh yes. Very much so. And let us do away with those foolish ideas of truth and lies. Let us just talk as two individuals who can be honest for this one conversation, and we can return to the rules of society once we step outside this garden."

  "Refreshing. I like it."

  "I am Walter Scrogs," he said, "current shadow minister of the mancers."

  "Shadow minister?"

  "It means I get to deal with all of this nonsense while the real minister goes to parties and presses the flesh."

  "Seems a bit unfair."

  "I know. I pity how many fancy robes he needs. But I am not at all suited for politicking. Gives me colic. I prefer what I do."

  "Okay. Well, you know who I am."

  "Unfortunately I do."

  "Hey, man, being honest doesn't mean you have to be a jerk.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead he waved his hands around, made a fist, and then flipped his fist over. It was filled with small brown pebble-looking things. He threw one into the pond, and a brilliant yellow fish scooped it up immediately. The other fish headed our way, getting the picture they were about to get fed.

  "Neat trick."

  "It certainly amuses the grandchildren."

  "Wait, you have children?"

  "And grandchildren. Did you think we weren't allowed to marry? Or remain celibate?"

  “Kind of?”

  "Your view of mancers is ridiculous and wrong on so many levels."

  "I could say that same about your view of me."

  "I wager we have a more accurate notion of who you are than you have of who we are."

  "Well this is a fun game."

  "And not the point of this conversation. You think we exist to police magic within the Empire—“

  "You don't?"

  "Allow me some time to finish, please."

  "Okay, but only because you said please."

  “You think we exist to police magic within the Empire. And that has become one of our duties, to a certain extent. But we are the only ones allowed to perform magic within the Empire. I know it may be hard for you to understand why, but that is the folly of youth. There are those of us who have been cursed with such an advanced age that we understand the reasons behind many of the decisions that are not understood today."

  "Cursed with long life?"

  "The nigh-on immortality that may come with study of the arcane arts is only a boon as long as you care only about yourself. As soon as you care about someone else, it becomes a lingering nightmare."

  "Might need you to explain that one to me—“

  "Imagine watching your grandchildren shrivel and die of old-age."

  "Let's not imagine my grandchildren for a good long while," I said.

  “Regardless, there are reasons the Empire requires limitations placed on magic,” Walter said. “Some may seem superfluous now. Draconian or haphazard. And I’ve heard the rumors that magic was only outlawed to control the power of magic-users, and that the Emperor was angry with a mancer and acted rashly. But simply speaking, it was a decision that was not made lightly. There was nearly as much violence over the initial edict as the tumultuous times leading up to it. We like to think the Empire has existed, untouched, for centuries, but we often fail to understand the internal strife that has nearly torn this country apart multiple times. And the bulk of those times, the worst of the massacres and the civil wars, have all been borne on the backs of magic users as they sought to change the world to fit their needs."

  "Look, man," I said, "I know you're telling me some history, and that's all well and good and I appreciate the lesson. But--"

  "I was there for some of it,” Walter said. "I know—“

  “Sure you were. But I can say that too. I can lie and say that I was there and I know—“

  “Do you want me to cast a truth spell?"

  "I mean, it'd be better if you teach me to cast a truth spell. Because otherwise, you can just spout off some Seussian mumbo-jumbo and throw up jazz hands, for all I know. If you tell me that's a truth spell, what am I going to do?”

  "Your lack of arcane acumen is astounding."

  "I mean, not for nothing, but you guys are the reason I don’t have a mentor to teach me anything arcane."

  "She fled because she broke the basic covenant, and she knew she was in the wrong.”

  "Is this the unwritten rule pertaining to underground magic users?"

  "That is certainly one means of referring to it, but it is more than that. There are obvious downsides to having a singular organization responsible for all magic in the Empire. Especially all those who control it are fallible beings. Despite my best efforts, politics infects the organization, both from within as we fight to control and guide the Ministry, and from without as others seek our assistance in their own nefarious plans. It sets various schools of magic up on pedestals and denigrates others. Organizationally, we forget the importance and utility of various magics, to our disgrace. And research is forgotten. We make no new inroads into spells. Most of the research these days is trying to find old spells to bring back into the fold. Nothing bold is being done. And that is because we are a monstrous group. The size has made us unwieldily, and instead of attempting to make each other great magicians with morals and ethics, we police ourselves to within an inch of outlawing magic in its entirety. Sure, we excel at fancy little spells for dinner parties. We fill the ranks of industry and fully half our number do little beyond assist in growing bountiful harvests. But I know we are falling behind other countries. Other wizards grow in skill and spells. and we take up another seat at the ballroom planning to wow a duke with parlor tricks until he gives us enough money that we might have silk sheets instead of satin."

  "Take a breath, man."

  "It is a sore subject, Clyde Hatchett."

  "I can tell."

  He took a moment, and tossed more food to the fishes. He tried to disperse the food as fairly as possible, throwing the pebble-bites to individual fish as he judged how much food they'd gotten. The fishes weren't exactly happy to wait, either, pushing each other around as they jockeyed to be in the right position to grab the next morsel.

  Sitting there, it was easy to get lost in the moment. The glorious smells wafting across the gentle breeze, the vibrant colors of the fish reflecting in the noonday sun. It was idyllic.

  "It behooves us to look the other way for a few certain individuals who we deem able to add something positive to the Empire."

  "By we, you mean you."

  "Yes. The primary duty of the Shadow Minister it to oversee all projects we keep in the shadows. One of which is working with those who remain outside the boundaries of the Ministry. I think you would have done well inside our walls, and I would have personally guided you through the maze of bureaucracy. But after the events of last night, I doubt you would find our group particularly welcoming."

  "I was only defending myself."

  "I have reviewed your actions, at least those that I had access to. You do not attack willy-nilly. You do not sling spells in public. And though I can't quite fathom where you are learning your spells, nor why you've chosen such spells to learn, I can see that though you were fighting for your life last night, you did not use the worst spells within your arsenal. Th
at shows restraint."

  I nodded.

  "This is my lone offer to you," he said. "And there are no negotiations. Either you take the deal, or, we continue as adversaries. And I will make sure the full weight of the Empire comes to bear as soon as we are able."

  "I really don't respond well to threats."

  "It is not a threat but a reality, Clyde Hatchett. Though I can admire your confidence, you lack the skills, level, and spells necessary to make a stand against the Empire of Glaton. However, with all that said, I see you are taking new pathways through the Arcane Arts. You are using different spells, you are making powerful choices. If you can maintain your restraint, I will add you to the shadow roll. You will not be accosted by our members, nor reported to the watch. However, there may be times when you are called upon to give demonstrations of what you have learned, and, perhaps, teach select spells to members of the Ministry. For compensation of course. Should the need arise, you will also come to the defense of the Empire. And you will find a mentor to guide you until you are at such a level that we know you won't accidentally destroy the world."

  Walter threw the remaining food the fish, and wiped his hand off. He looked at me for the first time since I came into the garden. "Does that sound like a deal to you?"

  "So I can cast magic—“

  "You can remain on in the same way you act now. Magic should be something that you hide. You begin casting in public to the point we begin to hear your name bandied about, and we will be forced to come down on you. However, if you maintain a low-profile, we will ignore you."

  "Can you suggest a mentor?"

  "No."

  "But I need one."

  “That you do, but part of being on the shadow role is anonymity. Just as I cannot divulge the name of someone to aid you, I will not divulge your name. That is part of the deal. In addition, finding a mentor to suit your style of magic is important, it is something ever magic user must do on their own. And please trust me when I say: finding your own way through magic is a recipe for disaster, and nearly always ends poorly."

  "Okay. I guess. I mean, seems like I have little choice."

  "Let us be clear," he said, "you have a choice. You can go about your business. It is possible we will decide you are not worth bothering with, especially considering that you somehow have connections to the Carchedonian royal family. But you will always wonder if we are around the corner, waiting to grab you. Or if we are about to interfere with your tomfoolery at the Ministry of the Interior. Be a pity to let Pomeroy know that we know what you did."

  "Hey, he didn't do anything."

  "Politics, though. I daresay he would fare well in The Mamertime.”

  "I'm not even going to ask what that is. Just sounds awful."

  "I suppose it speaks to your skills as a rogue that you don't know the name of the prison."

  "I"ll take the deal," I said.

  "I will add that it should go without saying that you shall not kill any more of our members—“

  "Hey—“

  He held up his hand. "Allow me to finish. You shall not kill any more of our members without sufficient cause and provocation. I urge you to not do it, because even hotheads who step out illegally have friends. Perhaps make use of your hold person spell more. Although, you don't have hold person, you have a variant I haven't seen before, don't you? Hold humanoid. Very interesting."

  He pulled out a notebook, and jotted something down.

  "Anyway," he said, "I fear I have an event to prepare for. One of the few I seem unable to get out of during the year. And you have, well, whatever it is that you do, to do, eh?'

  "Yeah, I guess."

  "I hope it is quite some time before we meet again, and in more pleasant circumstances."

  Walter grabbed my forearm.

  You have been granted the indicium: Shadow Ministry Badge

  Neat.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  I caught a carriage back home. I decided it needed a clever name, but that it wasn't the time to come up with something. Instead, I tried to decide what my move was with Godfrey's brother, Hamilton the beastmaster. A member of the elite Thingmen, a military organization currently breaking with tradition by not standing down. Maybe it was something as simple as a desire of vengeance for their master. Or, and seeming more likely given the political climate of the Empire, it was linked to some sort of coup. Who knows?

  Back at the complex, I got out of the carriage, thanked the elderly gent for the ride, and walked upstairs to my apartment.

  It was empty, always nice. I put down the bag, and I went through the contents.

  I wasn’t particularly keen on handling the two big skin-wrapped books if I didn't have to, so I left them stacked together and concentrated on the spell books. There were nine of them, and as I read over the titles, I found that I was already wrestling with the decision to use them. I wanted to, and yet, Careena had been so against them. And maybe for good reason. Maybe it would stunt my growth as a magic user. And if I ended up focusing more on magic than roguery, it wouldn't do to limit my abilities just to get some easy spells. Most of the books seemed like they were from the bargain bin, just basic stuff that would get someone in trouble. Flamedart, animate minor object, fill small hole, stuff like that. But a few seemed more nefarious, which only made me suspect the Iron Silents had been involved all over again.

  Animate Minor Object - bring a small object, less than twenty pounds, to life as long as you feed mana into it.

  Force Burst - send a bubble of force away from you

  Fingers of the Stone God - send forth up to five pillars of stone from the ground for a maximum height of fifty feet. Height may be spread around pillars unevenly.

  Fireball - summon a medium sized ball of fire, able to be thrown from your hand.

  Summon Imp - summon an imp

  Summon Celestial Ally - summon a friendly celestial, your level or lower.

  Summon Infernal Ally - summon a friendly infernal, your level or lower. May not actually be friendly.

  Flamedart - fire a dart of flame from your hand.

  Fill Minor Hole - fill a small hole, less than two cubic feet

  Nothing that really called out to me. Except fireball. I couldn't help myself — it would just be too much fun to throw fire. So I learned the spell. And it was actually one of the more difficult spells I’d had to learn. At least, as far as the book went. By the time I was done with it, I was exhausted, wanting nothing more than a quick nap. Or a long nap. Maybe I’d just go to sleep for the night.

  I knew that'd be a terrible idea though.

  Instead, I grabbed another of the spell books, and I learned that spell.

  And again.

  Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I was weak. I didn't have these spells, so I didn't see a reason not to learn them. Sure, I understood logically it would be better for me to learn them on my own or develop my own versions of these, but I didn’t have time for that right now. Maybe if Careena was still around, or I had some other instructor of magic, but being a thief-y type and trying to run a guild in the midst of a political war, I didn't have the time to devote to learning the mystic and arcane arts. Hopefully it wouldn't be something that bit me in the ass. That said, it seemed that most things in Vuldranni wound up, at some point, getting involved in ass biting. And not in the good way.

  By the time I’d learned all my spells, I’d bottomed out my stamina, my mana, and even took a decent hit on HP. Which made me think there'd been some sort of internal damage I hadn’t noticed, which wasn't good.

  Slowly, I got to my feet.

  It wasn't dark out yet, but it was well into the afternoon. I'd spent more of my day learning spells than I'd anticipated. And I still hadn’t gotten clothes for the ball.

  I went through all my pouches and bags, looking for what I wanted to take with me that night. First was one of the magic coin pouches. A full one. I was going to buy a lot of stuff, if I could help it. The second, the bag of stasis, because why
not? It functioned as a bag of holding in addition to whatever else it might do. So that was all I needed storage wise.

  Downstairs to the tavern, I looked to see who was around.

  Godfrey sat at the bar. He looked to be in his cups, leaning low over the wood so his mustache drooped into his mead. Titus was reading a book. A young woman worked the seated crowd, delivering drinks to tables, taking orders. She looked over at me, and gave me a smile.

  "Don't bother with him," Titus called out, not bothering to look up from his book. "He'll sit here.”

  I gave the new woman a smile, and went to the stool Titus was pointing to.

  “New hire?” I asked.

  He nodded. “She’s the daughter of one of your new neighbors.”

  “Strange, she doesn’t look like a kobold.”

  That got a wry grin. “Matthew and I had a bit of a talk with Boris and Shae. Freed up some of the apartments. And before you say anything, it’s not because we don’t like the dang kobolds. It’s because there too many good people looking for help, and so we’re just trying to get people in—“

  “The missing kids situation?”

  “Part of it. Maybe most of it. But it’s the instability. There is talk about the Legion leaving the city. Which means the City Guard are going to be swinging their big dicks around, which means the little guy is vulnerable. Some asshole landlord wants to take a tenant out, they can just hire the guard. No Legion around to keep them in check.”

  I nodded. I didn’t particularly need all the explanations, but sometimes people needed to talk. To say things out loud so they could understand them as well.

  “So how many open apartments do we have?” I asked.

  “We have two,” he said. “The kobolds are taking the basement and sub basement of the new building, and the sub basement of the bakery. We offered them one of the apartments there, but they didn’t want it. Boris said that they’d feel too exposed. So, my wife’s brother and sister moved in, and—“