The Forgotten Faithful: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 2)

by Jez Cajiao

  Thomas had judged the distance as best he could, moving back a single step and bringing the mace up to catch Boris’s left forearm as the jailor lashed out with his cosh, trying to end the fight quickly.

  Boris screamed, dropping the cosh from suddenly numbed fingers. Taking a quick step back, he yanked the sword back around, only for it to clang off Thomas’ hastily raised mace.

  Thomas twisted his wrist, deflecting his opponent’s sword to the side, and kicked Boris hard on the inside of his left knee, staggering him.

  Boris half-fell backwards, the encircling men and women moving with him, and he thrust frantically with his sword, rust spots standing out clearly. Thomas leaned aside, lashing out and grabbing the jailor’s wrist, pulling him forward.

  Thomas grinned into the terrified eyes of the man who’d tormented him, beaten him, and tortured him for months, and he brought his borrowed mace around to smash down onto his forearm.

  The flanged mace hit with sickening force, and Thomas felt the bones shatter under the blow.

  Boris screamed, both arms effectively out of the fight, and Thomas stepped in closer, hooking his opponent’s uninjured leg with one foot, head butting him and sending him sprawling to the floor with conspicuous ease.

  Thomas lunged forward, dropping the mace as he landed on his jailor’s chest and started punching. A right hook, then a straight left, a straight right, then he grabbed Boris’ hair with his left to get better leverage, pulling back his right fist with a feral grin.

  Two men suddenly tackled him from behind, yanking him up and off his enemy, and Thomas went wild, his fury at the interference to his justice roaring to life.

  He braced himself and yanked, digging deep and using strength he’d thought long lost as he brought both arms forward, smashing the restraining soldiers together. Their heads sounded like bells as their helmets crashed into each other.

  The man who’d been holding his right arm let go, staggering and mildly concussed, and Thomas reacted with the speed of a man used to fighting for his life.

  He punched the left guard savagely, his fist actually denting his target’s helmet, and he sent the man flying.

  Thomas spun, tucking his foot under the mace on the floor, and flipped it up into the air, reaching out almost casually to intercept it before screaming in pain and collapsing to the floor as his collar sent a wash of agony pouring through every muscle.

  “Impressive!” came a voice from above him, and Thomas gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes open. It was the Paladin, standing over him, the Restraint Stone for his collar held in one hand. Thomas growled, his fury fully awakening, and he fought through the pain, dragging himself forward, determined to reach the Stone, only to have more soldiers pile on him. They yanked his arms back, and he raged at the terrible feeling of manacles being locked back into place.

  He strained against the irons and the pain, but as the world began to turn black, he saw the Paladin smiling down at him in approval.

  “We can use that anger, son. With a little training, and some reins in place, you might be an asset to the Church of Nimon yet.” He turned to a corporal that quickly stood to attention under the Paladin’s gaze. “Take him to the infirmary; get him healed up and evaluated. I think Sergeant Nix’s squad was one short. If so, see what he can do with him.” He turned back to Thomas and gave him a fatherly smile of approval before sneering down at Boris, who lay half beaten to death, with his arms broken and skull fractured. “Oh, and someone clean this shit up, Nimon has no need of scum like this on his doorstep!”

  Chapter One

  “Do ye be awake, laddie?” a voice called from nearby, and I jerked upright, my brain going from fast asleep into panic mode as my knees hit the underside of the table I’d been sprawled over, drunk. The impact sent me flying back down to bang my forehead on the table in a splash of spilled booze.

  “Arghhhh!” I cried out sharply, pushing back from the table and tangling my legs with the stool that was bolted to the deck. I fell sideways, my flailing arm tearing free a coat from a stand to fall on me as I collapsed to the floor, slumped against the wall.

  “Bwahahaha!” The laughter rang out, echoing around in my skull as I grabbed my head.

  “Oren?” I grunted.

  “Aye, laddie! It be me,” he replied, still laughing.

  “I hate you,” I muttered, tugging the coat off my head, and glaring up at him. He stood leaning against the door to the Captain’s Cabin, shoulders still shaking as he snickered, and I winced at the bright morning sunlight that streamed in through the great windows that took up one side of the room, reaching from the floor to the upper deck.

  “Ye could have let me use the captain’s quarters! Ye did’na even use the bed!” he said in reproach, gesturing to the undisturbed bed as I looked around the room.

  The night before came back to me slowly. After the fight for the Tower was over, I’d gathered everyone together for a wake, and in traditional Northern style, it’d ended up as a party somehow. I vaguely remembered that Oren had found some rotgut in the ship we’d captured, and the combination of a battle won and the knowledge we were safe, for a few days, at least, had resulted in a lot of drinking.

  “Aye, well… sorry, mate,” I muttered, rubbing some life back into my legs as I looked up at him. “Any particular reason you snuck up on me like that?” The note of irritation was clear in my voice.

  “’Snuck up’? I banged on th’ door twice! Thought mebbe you’d been murdered! Or mebbe ye found an elf maid in yer bed and were making th’ most of being th’ hero!” He laughed, giving me a bawdy wink.

  “You thought I might have an elf maid in my bed, so you walked in? Dude, seriously… we need to talk about boundaries...” I muttered, grabbing the wall, and hauling myself upright. I stood unsteadily as I looked around again, my memories of last night blurry and fragmented.

  The room was ostentatious for a warship, even for the captain’s quarters, with gilded lamps, a large table with ornate tableware, a double bed, and multiple decanters displayed in what had previously been a locked cabinet.

  I vaguely remembered jimmying the lock with a dagger while shitfaced, and a crystal cut decanter sat in the middle of the table I’d fallen asleep on. I noticed a piece of parchment curling up from underneath the decanter, stained with booze and covered in what looked like chicken scratch.

  “Aye, well, only one way to be sure!” Oren said, unrepentantly shrugging. “So…ye said to be here early, that we had plans to make?”

  “Yeah…” I said, wracking my brain as I tried to remember what I’d been thinking when we’d last spoken.

  I looked around for inspiration, and when I reflexively looked away from the glaring light of the windows, I found what I needed. The parchment, torn, messy, and laying halfway in a puddle of booze, held my master plan from last night. Thank fuck.

  I rushed over to it, spreading it out and frowning. I’d written it while smashed out of my skull, and I’d never used a quill and inkpot combination before, tearing the parchment as much as marking it intentionally, so it wasn’t the easiest to read.

  To do:

  T…y....up…

  Nottifcasuns!

  Council

  Rebuild t…er!

  Find Tommy the twat!!

  Explore!!!

  I grinned as I reached the second-last one, upon seeing my old nickname for Tommy.

  A memory of the first time I’d used it, when we were training during basic, and he’d lost his mind. Good times…

  “Well, laddie?” Oren asked, and I blinked, lost in reverie.

  “Sorry, mate,” I said, shrugging. “Righto, then. Yeah, we’ve got a few things to get sorted: first, and most important, breakfast! Then you and Cai are gonna help me get shit organized around here. We’ve got a fuckload to get done, and we are at war with an arsehole city lord. Add to that, our army would just about fit in this one damn room, so we’re going to need to find some new recruits. Last, and most important of all…I need a d
amn drink. It tastes like the ship’s cat took a shit in my mouth.”

  I watched as Oren lifted the decanter and sniffed it before gesturing to a glass questioningly with it. “Oh, hell no, I meant water or something. Did you not get enough last night?”

  I said, shuddering and moving back to the cabinet. I quickly checked the other decanters and bottles, finally finding one at the back that had no smell. Taking a tentative sip, I relaxed, tasting water. I turned around to find Oren savoring whatever was in the decanter and shivered again. The little sod must have a cast iron stomach if he was still able to drink after last night.

  We finished our drinks, and I put the decanter back, suddenly aware that I probably shouldn’t have smashed the lock open to get at the good booze.

  “Let’s go,” I said, somewhat gruffly. Gathering up my naginata but leaving my armor and most of my other weapons behind, I led the way out of the captain’s quarters to the main deck of the Airship, locking the door behind us and pocketing the key.

  Despite the large windows in the cabin, I was still surprised by how bright it was outside, and the birds that flitted madly all around. I walked over to the edge and stood, resting my arms on a worn stone railing, and looking out at the world before me.

  I drew in a deep breath as I took in the forested hills and valleys that surrounded the Great Tower of Dravith. For hundreds of miles to the east and north, it was surrounded by dense forests and fierce mountains until the land reached the coast, while to the south by southeast, the forests continued almost as far as the eye could see, broken only by a pair of great lakes and a few small rivers. At the very furthest visible distance from the top of the Tower, the twin cities of Himnel and Narkolt interrupted the horizon. They had been embroiled in their own war, which had begun long before I’d managed to piss off Himnel by claiming both the Great Tower and the continent as my birthright.

  Considering the fact that just over six months ago, I’d been a barman and odd-job dude for a few nightclubs, it wasn’t bad going.

  I looked down, my gaze drawn by children’s laughter rising on the winds, and I grinned down at the small figures. The warship, whose captain’s cabin I’d spent the night in, had a pair of massive cages on its deck.

  When the ship had arrived, they had been holding dozens of people the crew had captured from a village on their way here. Now they held the ship’s crew, and the former prisoners and their children were roaming through my Tower.

  The sight of a trio of young children, all toddlers, splashing and squealing in a pool on one of the lower floors balconies was a balm to my soul.

  I watched their lively play for a long moment, smiling as I saw birds wheeling around, disturbed by the happy laughter that rose on the wind.

  Yesterday, I’d led a group of former slaves to fight the warship’s compliment of soldiers, and while we’d won, it had been at a terrible cost. Three of those brave people had died, and my mood last night while drinking had been foul at first.

  It had only lightened as the night went on, as Oren and the others introduced people who we’d freed. They had been destined for a life of slavery until we had intervened, and that felt good. I drew in another deep lungful, enjoying the clear, crisp air. Intoxicating scents rose from the gardens dotted around the Tower, supported by each balcony, but this one was teeming with plants and herbs. I could practically taste mint and lavender in the air, and after living in the polluted cities of Earth, I fucking loved it.

  My stomach suddenly let out an almighty rumble, and I grimaced as an unwelcome thought filled my mind.

  “Do we have enough food for everyone?” I asked, recalling all of us raiding the stores on the ship drunkenly last night, and the party we’d had.

  I cursed myself for a fool as I realized I could have wasted a huge amount of food when we needed it.

  “Food? Aye, well I’d expect so. No idea, really; I had enough supplies on ma ship fer a month, easy, but that were for ma crew an’ me, nothin’ special.” With that, Oren turned and waved toward the Tower, getting a wave in return as the cat-man, Cai, started heading over from where he’d been talking to someone. “The cat’d be the best one to ask, I bet. Keep hearin’ people complainin’ ‘bout him stickin ‘is nose in everywhere…”

  I regarded Cai as he jogged toward me. The description of ‘the cat’ was accurate, even though I automatically bristled at the use of the casual racial slur. However, I also remembered Cai and Oren drinking together last night and considering Cai had been a slave held aboard Oren’s ship a short time ago, I knew that any real bad feelings would have been evident by now. They were just two men getting on without thinking about it.

  Was speciesism really an issue here? I stood watching as Cai came to a stop, nodding his head at me and Oren in turn.

  He stood a little taller than my own six-foot eight frame, which slightly dampened my recent enthusiasm over the physical growth that my leveling up had provided. Black fur covered him head to toe, and he was dressed in worn but serviceable clothes.

  His face was a mixture of human and panther, with a wide feline nose, sharp teeth, and whiskers. He grinned at us both, and rather than any instinctive fear from facing such an obvious non-human, I always found myself grinning back at him.

  Cai was the unofficial leader of the former slaves and seemed to have settled himself into the role of middle manager for me. Last night, he’d been the one that had organized the food, the few people that could cook, and even limited the booze at one point.

  “Jax, Oren,” he said, ducking his head and gesturing expansively around us. “It is a glorious morning. The birds sing for us, and the sun shines!”

  “It be unnatural!” said Oren, shaking his head. “He always be like this, too damn happy by half!”

  “Bah! I know you love the sun as much as I. What can I do for you, Jax?” he said, shaking his head at Oren and looking at me questioningly.

  “Food.” I said abruptly. “Do we have enough of it? Oh, and good morning to you too…sorry. I was enjoying the view when I had the horrible thought that we might have wasted food we needed last night…”

  “Ah! No, we have, perhaps not a surplus, but enough for everyone for several weeks at present now that I’ve checked the ships over. More than that, if we are permitted to supplement the stores with the bounty of the Tower?”

  “The trees, and so on?” I asked, getting a nod in response. “Yeah, of course, people can have what they want from the fruit trees and gardens; don’t worry.”

  “Ah… maybe a little caution is in order, Jax?” Cai responded, looking at Oren and getting a grimace before carrying on. “Most of the fruit trees are in bloom at this point, and if we are to harvest them, we would have plenty. However, some of the trees are rare varieties, and I have already heard of people stripping them to hoard for later.”

  My attention snapped back to him sharply from where I’d begun to look back down at the garden below, my attention pulled once again by the laughter of the children.

  “Remember, my friend, these people were slaves. Slaves don’t know when they’ll next eat, so they tend to think in the short term with any opportunities they find. It’s not intentional, I’m sure,” Cai said soothingly.

  “Well, we need to figure out what we have, and what we can take safely. I don’t want the trees stripped, and certainly not damaged. We need them.”

  “As to people hoarding, we need someone to look after the food stores, gather everything together, and store it somewhere safe,” I said, grimacing.

  “That was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about today. I know you’ll have a lot to do, but we need to consider the future. Especially if you’re planning on adding the people of the village to our total?” Cai responded, nodding in agreement.

  “Do they want to join us? Where are they, anyway?” I asked, looking around and spotting a few faces I vaguely recognized from last night.

  “The majority of them are a few floors down; They found a reasonably intact seri
es of rooms and set up a camp in there. I’d suggest you talk to them, if you don’t mind me saying so?”

  “Hell, Cai, I’m new to this whole ‘lordship’ thing. You know that,” I said, shaking my head as I met his gaze. “I know there’s a hell of a lot I don’t know. In fact, the only thing I do know is that I don’t know enough! I’m going to need a lot of help from you, and you, Oren,” I finished, looking from one to the other.

  “Of course, Jax!” Cai said, even as Oren responded with a gruff “Aye, well, might as well, I guess…”

  “Thank you both. Okay, first things first. We need to plan things out a little better than we have up until now. We had the ship to fight, and now we kinda have a war with that prick Barabarattas…” They both nodded at me, and I went on. “So first of all, we need to meet the new people; more than we did last night, I mean.” I got a nod from each, and Cai spoke up.

  “The majority of them were very pleased to meet us all yesterday, my lord, especially after you told them there was no debt between them and you for their freedom, and you let them out of the cages they had been kept in. I know a few were unhappy about the soldiers and ship’s crew you imprisoned in those same cages, and the rules you imposed on not harming them. But overall, they have an exceptionally good impression of you, and by extension, us, at this point.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s go meet them.” I said, putting the issue of the prisoners aside for now. I’d had the surviving crew and soldiers of the warship tossed in the same cages and brig that their own prisoners had vacated last night, ordering they be given some food and water and left alone by the others.

  I’d always loved city and world sims in my old life. Now, though, just considering all I had to get in place made me wince.

  I needed a damn system of laws and everything, and what I’d realized about myself during the long hours since I’d adopted the former slaves into the Tower, was that despite those games, I really hated being the one that was responsible for everything.