Unexplored: Crisis at Clearwater
Alara Branwen
Copyright © 2017
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
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ONE
Beams of green tinted sunlight from the forest canopy splashed across Cleave’s face as he logged on. He took a deep breath and allowed crisp forest air to fill his lungs and refresh his senses. The day at work had been a tough one. Mondays always were. It felt nice to see actual sunlight, even if it was artificial.
Cleave opened his character sheet.
Cleave Lvl. 7
HP: 100%
Stamina: 100%
Mana: 100%
Character Status
Healthy
Skills Known
One Handed Swords: 7
Small Improvised Weapons: 2
Light Armor: 4
Bluff: 2
Spellcasting: 2
Divination Spells: 6
Spells Known
Reveal Magical Properties for Item
Items Owned
Below-Average Leather Breastplate Armor (Equipped), Below-Average Arming Sword (Equipped), Badly Worn Frying Pan
Character Wealth
7 cp.
He laughed when he looked at his meagre skill set and equipment. For the past month, he hadn’t really been focused on building his character. In between helping the Fey Wilder, the guild he was a member of, and the dryads set up their grove, he’d been really busy.
“Hey Cleave,” a feminine voice jovially called over.
Cleave turned to see a kobold, three feet in height with red scales and bright purple eyes. She smiled and waved with a clawed and as she came over to him. Her leather armor was fitted tightly over her small frame, and her wide hips and a tail swayed sensually.
“Hey Tarka,” Cleave said.
“They have you working late again?” Tarka said.
“Of course, I’m getting a ton of new projects. I can’t get out the door before seven p.m.”
“Damn, well just make sure they don’t work you too hard. I don’t want to come over to your apartment one day and find you twitching on the floor because you had a nervous breakdown.”
Cleave knew Tarka in real life. Out of game she was Mary, his best friend and former video game store employee that’d quit to pursue a college degree.
Cleave chuckled at Tarka’s last statement. Given how crazy his job was, him suffering a total mental breakdown was a real possibility.
Cleave’s real name was Clint, Clint Sahorn. He was a data analytics specialist for a grocery store chain called Madeline’s. His job was to handle all data operations and correct his coworkers’ menial mistakes on spreadsheets.
He did all the work a team of four used to take care of. Clint went through a great deal of mental turmoil and stress, but he somehow managed to get the job done.
A bulky man close to nine feet tall, a half-giant, with wild black hair smiled from behind the kobold and waved a beefy hand. He did his best to look friendly but even this gesture made him look fearsome.
“Hey Krug,” Cleave said to the amiable half-giant.
“Hey, glad you could make it on. I was worried you wouldn’t be here to start the quest.” Krug said, straightening his thick leather armor and shouldering his massive steel kite shield on his shoulder.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this. A fun little adventure is what I need to calm my nerves.”
“As long as a powerful guild doesn’t appear to bring mass genocide to an entire people, I’m happy,” Krug grinned.
The group laughed as a lithe man in leather robes with long blond hair tied in pony tail came up behind them.
“Cleave, it’s nice to see you,” the man said in his low and purring voice. He scratched one of his long ears. “For a while I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“Oh Estelar, you know I couldn't stay away from you,” Cleave said to his fellow elf.
“I know. I have that kind of magnetism when it comes to people.”
Tarka rolled her purple eyes.
“You ready for the meeting with Bitterroot?” Krug said.
Cleave’s muscles ached, his real-world exhaustion seeping into his MMO avatar. The past two weeks had been exceptionally hard at work and part of him really just wanted to rest. However, he needed a diversion. If he didn’t get one soon thoughts of work would drive him mad.
Cleave grinned, even as fatigue tugged at his consciousness. “Hell yeah. We’ve been cooped up for too long in the guild.”
“Not sure why you’re complaining,” the female kobold arched her back and stretched, showcasing her small but perky bust. “You don’t seem to mind hanging around to try out Estelar’s new ‘implements of torture.’”
“But I can’t help it, all of the new equipment Estelar put in the Dungeon of Dreams is so much fun,” Cleave said.
“And educational,” Krug added, “I never knew how flexible dryads were before we joined the guild.”
“I’m having quite a bit of fun listening to you all chat,” Estelar said, “but perhaps we should start heading to the grove. Bitterroot has been antsy for you three to get started on your quest, and I’m not really in the mood to listen to another one of his long, slow rants about ‘wishing to recover the past of his people.’”
“Okay, let's go,” Tarka said. “Better not make the giant tree mad. He’d squish us all into pancakes.”
“Including me?” Krug said.
Cleave elbowed the half-giant in the side. “Nah, he’d just break you into pieces and churn you into mulch.”
The four laughed and walked a few meters to a large building made of twisting tree branches. They passed a large archway into a huge arboretum. Several white trees grew in rows while dryads, dainty green creatures with flowing vines for hair, cared for them. Some of the trees were mere saplings and others were eight or nine feet in height.
The smaller room had three doorways each leading to a different section of the Guild hall. The ones to the side led to living quarters and leisure rooms, while the doorway directly opposite them led into a room about half the size of the arboretum, but still quite large. Two circular limestone fountains on each side had large statues of a male and female dryad leaning against a tree and holding a water jug. Water gushed from the “jug” into the bubbling pools.
Between these fountains was a raised dirt pathway that led to a throne of twisting oak branches. On it sat a beautiful dryad with dark green skin and hair vines that flowed down to the small of her back. She wore a tight brown shirt that exposed her midriff, and breeches that clung tightly to her lithe frame. Beside her was an oak tree close to twenty feet in height. A lined face appeared in the bark beneath its branches that stretched upward a few feet. Thick branches extended from its body and served as arms and legs.
Estelar and his friends walked down the dirt path, passing several dryads chasing each other or playing in the fountain. A few of the dryads were getting very friendly, somethi
ng that Krug found very distracting.
The dryad on the throne smiled and waved, “Cleave, Tarka, Krug, Estelar! It’s so nice to see you.”
The group waved back.
“Sorry it’s been a few days, Lurupine,” Cleave said. “We’ve all been a bit busy.”
“Yeah, laying a cat o nine tails across my ass,” Tarka murmured, and Krug chuckled.
The massive living tree ponderously turned to them. His words came slowly and felt like they were shaking the earth itself. “No need to apologize, I have been watching over the dryads, a difficult but a worthwhile endeavor. I am not one for sentiments, but seeing so much life around lightens the heart. Yet, I am eager to send you on your quest.”
Lurupine nodded. “It has been tough, but I’ve enjoyed every moment of it. We have a few dryad players now. All of us are gonna get together and choose a leader soon.”
“I have no doubts you’ll be elected unanimously,” Krug said.
Lurupine looked at her bare green feet. “I don’t know. I’ve done my best as a steward while we got things set up, but I’m not sure I’d do a good enough job as the actual leader once we get approved as an official guild.”
“You’ve done a fabulous job,” Estelar said. “The arboretum has thrived since you have taken charge.”
Lurupine smiled and blushed a little. “Thanks, but without Bitterroot’s help, I’d be pretty useless. I hope whoever is elected leader will keep him on as council.”
“That is my hope as well,” Bitterroot said. “Now that we have all gathered, I want to discuss your quest to find the Ring of Treesoul. I have information that might make your task easier.”
“Devdan Erwynn was a member of the Lren elf tribe that is currently located near the halfling city of Clearwater. He was the twin brother of Velethuil, the tribe’s current chieftain, who has ruled over them for many years. He would be the first person to talk to about his brother Devdan, the last known wielder of the ring.”
“Do you know anything about Devdan’s disappearance?” Tarka said.
“That is a question that the Lren tribe has been trying to answer for five hundred years. He is a celebrated hero among their people. One day he vanished and he’s been sorely missed ever since. If you can find the place where he rests, I am certain the tribe will be in your debt.”
“An age old mystery,” Cleave said, “this sounds fun. We’ll do what we can to recover this lost artifact of your people. What do you want us to do once we have it?”
“If you find it, send me a message and I will confer with the Lren tribe’s chief to pass the ring onto a suitable wielder.”
“Five hundred years is quite a while,” Krug said. “Is there any other place we can find some information if the elves can’t give us any leads?”
“Check written records in Clearwater. Given their close proximity, it is likely they would have recorded something about a great hero in their area. If you can’t find anything, look for the Lren. They’ve become reclusive, from what I’ve heard, but are likely to know the fate of one of their kind. Even though Devdan has not been seen for centuries, an elf’s memory is long.”
“Will do,” Cleave said.
“Before we start,” Tarka said, “has anyone seen Sphiel or Berryl around? Sphiel’s spell song or that insane catgirl would be amazing help if they wanted to come along.”
“Sphiel, who is now a Fey Wilder member by the way, is on a quest to the north. As for Berryl,” Estelar shrugged, “there is no telling where that crazy catgirl is. Knowing her, she’ll pop up eventually after she is done with whatever hijinks she’s decided to get into.”
“In that case, let’s get going. It’s forty miles to Clearwater and I want to start mapping the road there while we still have daylight left. It’s likely to take us a few days to get there.”
“All great things come to those who wait,” the living tree said. “Take all the time you need. A warning. The elven people are nomadic and might be difficult to find. But keep searching the area a mile or two outside of Clearwater. They’re bound to turn up.”
“In that case, we’ll get started,” Cleave said.
“Woo hoo!” Tarka pumped a clawed fist. “It’ll be nice to start another adventure. I’m getting a little rusty.”
“It’s been too long since my warhammer has faced battle, I hope we find some monsters to whomp on,” Krug said.
“I hope you all have a safe journey,” Estelar said, “but I’m sure some action won’t go amiss.”
Cleave, Tarka, and Krug looked at each other with a sparkle in their eyes. Even though there was probably danger waiting for them, like there seemed to be in all corners of Unexplored, they were excited to start their new quest.
TWO
The going was very slow. Tarka spent a great deal of time meticulously mapping the trail south while Cleave and Krug kept watch. Cleave found his mind wandering constantly during their trek.
His exhaustion had intensified over the past few days. He’d recently begun a new project for the CFO of the company, which he didn’t mind, but on top of this he received all the responsibilities of three people in the marketing department that’d just been let go.
His boss called him a “machine” and said that if Cleave kept it up, he’d be running the whole company.
“Of course that’s what you’d want, you balding bastard,” Cleave muttered to himself.
“What?” Tarka said, looking up from her map.
“Nothing, I’m just thinking about my job. Even though I’m more motivated I’m still falling behind.”
“That’s because they treat you like crap there. Anyway, I know your job sucks, but pay attention to the road. I don’t want some mob to shank us while I’ve got my head buried in this damned map.”
Cleave dutifully turned his eyes to the wilderness around them. “How close are we?”
“I don’t know,” Tarka said, “the directions Estelar gave us weren't all that accurate.”
Krug laughed. “We’re lost before our adventure has even started. I don’t know if this bodes well.”
“At least we haven’t gotten attacked yet,” Cleave said.
The group came to several forks in the road. They took the paths that took them further south, but after a few more hours of travelling this seemed to be a mistake.
There was a collective groan among them as their boots crunched in the sand. Cleave’s sharp elven eyes kept a lookout for a trail that would possibly help them get back on track, but even with his enhanced senses, they seemed to be going further off track.
All three stopped as night settled over the wood and tried to get their bearings. Tarka studied and restudied the map over a magical ball of white light Krug conjured in his hand, but retracing the route they’d come was fruitless.
Tarka let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, it’s official, we’re lost as hell.”
“You know it’s not good when even our guide doesn’t know where we’re going,” Krug muttered.
“It’s okay,” Cleave said, “we just need to backtrack.”
“I don’t know where we’d go.” Tarka blew out a frustrated breath. “The trail close to Clearwater has a ton of little branching pathways.”
“Maybe someone will come along and we can ask directions,” Cleave said.
Tarka and Krug looked around and the darkening forest. Other than the sound of crickets announcing the coming night, there was nothing there but dense trees and thick foliage on the ground.
“I don’t think anyone is coming this way,” Krug said.
“I can’t blame them,” Tarka said. “There’s nothing here.”
Cleave smirked. “Maybe we could ask a tree. They’re pretty tall. Maybe they can see Clearwater from here.”
“Or we could ask this bush,” Tarka said, pointing to a shrub at the base of a tree. “Excuse me, mister bush, but our dumbasses our lost in the middle of a dangerous forest at night. Would you mind guiding our way?”
The group chuckled in
self derision. Even through their mirth, Cleave’s senses were on alert. The Wilderwood was a dangerous place, even more so at night. It wasn’t unheard of for goblins and all other manner of wicked creature to ambush wayward travellers in hopes of scoring easy loot.
Krug suggested they go back to one of the forks and try a different path. The party agreed and went on their way. As they went on, Tarka continued joking about asking different plants for directions.
She saw a cricket singing its nightsong on the trunk of a particularly large tree and stopped.
“Excuse me, mister cricket, we’re lost, could you show us the way?”
Krug and Cleave shook their heads as they listened to the chirping for a few seconds.
“I think that’s cricket for no,” Krug said.
“He probably doesn’t know either. I doubt he travels very far away from this area,” Cleave said.
“I beg to differ, he knows the forest much better than you think,” a bright and airy voice said.
Cleave, Tarka and Krug drew their weapons and looked around them. From behind a tree came three tall, lithe figures. The half-giant held up the ball of magical light. The three figures were dressed in green and had very angular features. All of them wore grim expressions.
“Who are you?” Cleave said, stepping in front.
The figure in front tossed his long, brown hair behind his shoulders. “Stand down travellers, we aren’t here to cause you harm.”
The party relaxed, but still held their battle positions.
The elves were quiet for a few moments before their leader spoke again. “My name is Larukel, I’ve been following your aimless wanderings for some time.”
“Why were you following us?” Krug said.
“You are currently on my people’s land, and we’re very wary of those that come here.”
Cleave slowly sheathed his sword and his friends did the same. “We apologize, we didn’t mean to trespass here. Would you fine lady and gentlemen be able to tell us where Clearwater is? As I’m sure you know, we’re lost and would appreciate any help you could give us.”
Larukel nodded. “I’d be happy to show you the way.”
Crisis at Clearwater - A LitRPG Virtual Fantasy Adventure (Book 2 Unexplored Cycle) Page 1