Travail Online: Resurrection: LitRPG Series (Book 2)

by Brian Simons

  Was there really any hope of convincing the Regent to stop, or at least delay, his attack on the dwarves?

  The corridor ended in another set of stairs. Daniel picked down again. The air got mustier and colder, but he paid it no mind.

  On the one hand, Daniel could make a stand at the banquet, try to explain to the Regent and the guards that attacking the dwarves was wrong. Given their general dislike of non-humans, that approach wouldn’t likely prevail.

  On the other hand, he could flat out refuse. The Regent would just go without him, and he might lose access to his Gallantry skill. Was that the best he could do? Let the Regent take the army north while Daniel went to the desert?

  He came up to a set of bars built into the wall ahead of him with a lock attached. This gate was unlike any of the doors he had seen so far in the castle, except maybe the door to the jail cell he was thrown into the previous week.

  Daniel peered into the darkness down the rest of that corridor, but it gave no indication what lie ahead. The gate was locked, but he rattled the metal anyway to see if it would shake loose. It didn’t.

  A moment later, a small green man appeared and walked toward Daniel. He was an ogre, but not a well-fed one. His narrow frame supported only a small belly, not like the massive gut ogres like Sal had.

  “Yes?” the green man said.

  “Who are you?” Daniel asked.

  “You must be new. I’m Grum. Do you have a message for Embra?”

  “No,” Daniel said. “Who is Embra?”

  Grum narrowed his eyes at Daniel. “Why are you here?”

  “Honestly, I was just wandering. I needed to think.”

  Grum sat down behind the metal bars. “I’ve gotten good at thinking,” Grum said. “It’s all there is to do down here, think and talk, think and talk. What are you thinking about?”

  “War. And how to avoid it.”

  “The Regent,” Grum said.

  “Yeah, the Regent,” Daniel replied.

  “Embra might know what to do, but she’s sleeping right now,” Grum said.

  “I still don’t know who that is.”

  “She’s the dragon who lives in the basement,” Grum said. “I thought you came here to ask for her advice. The Regent always asks her advice, even if he won’t follow it.”

  So there really is a dragon here. “Is the basement a prison?” Daniel asked.

  “The largest one I’ve ever seen,” Grum said.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I don’t remember,” Grum said. “I was very sick, and the Regent brought me to Havenstock to cure me. Only, he didn’t cure me. He never intended to. Next thing I knew I was in some musty dungeon staring up at a dragon. She helped me get better, but now I’m trapped down here.”

  “And why is she here?” Daniel asked.

  “That’s the one thing she still hasn’t told me,” Grum said.

  “I think I do have a message for Embra after all,” Daniel said. “Tell her that Hiber, the manticore, is alive and well, and that he would very much like to meet her.”

  25

  Hector found Domin’s door open. That was unusual. The company’s CEO usually preferred privacy. “Sir?” Hector said, knocking lightly.

  “What?” the man said without taking his eyes off his computer screen. He was busy, Hector understood that. He ran one of the largest gaming companies in the world. Still, as head programmer he thought Domin should pay him a little more attention, and respect.

  “Sir, we’ve had some strange readouts from servers around the world. It looks like players are sinking an abnormal amount of their in-game gold back into the in-game economy.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Domin said.

  “We thought so too, at first,” Hector said. “However, players that usually move their gold out of the game are also putting real life money into the game in unprecedented numbers. It could indicate a problem.”

  “You’re telling me that we’re making money and that you don’t like it,” Domin said, sliding his wheeled chair aside from his computer screen and looking Hector in the eyes. Hector decided he liked Domin better when he couldn’t see his face.

  “I’m concerned for the long term viability of the game economy. These are players that extract small amounts of money routinely. Pouring this much money into the game could indicate player instability, or it could have a ripple effect on in-game item prices that reduces overall playability. My only question, sir, is whether we should devote some employees to determining the cause of this phenomenon.”

  “Absolutely not,” Domin said. “What was your name again?”

  “Hector Pérez, sir.”

  “Well, Pérez, I recommend you get with the program. We run a business here, not a temp agency. I don’t care how much money the players make in Travail Online. I don’t give a rat’s ass about which players are poorer than others. The Board of Directors put me here to make money for us, and that’s what I intend to do. If players have suddenly decided to pour their life savings into Travail, let them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hector said. He turned to leave Domin’s office.

  “Wait,” Domin said. “Pérez. Are you the one I called about the message boards?”

  “Yes,” Hector said.

  “Good job fixing that problem,” Domin said. “I’m happy you’ve kept that nonsense off the boards.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Hector said. “I have an alert set up for anything about the visors. You won’t have to worry about that anymore.” It was the first time Domin had ever complimented him. He just wished it were for his actual programming work, rather than stifling player communications online.

  26

  After Daniel walked back into the castle, Coral logged out. Daniel was working on stopping the assault on the dwarves, but how were they going to stop Sagma from brainwashing everyone? She had never posted to the message boards before, but this seemed like a good time to start. She started a new thread called “Break your visors.”

  Coral_Daring: Hi everyone. Some of you will recognize me from the videos circulating online as the player that got the last hit against Otto on Server 215.

  You may have noticed something is brewing in the desert. It’s bad, and it’s going to get worse. The game is preparing to brainwash everyone into “donating” their money to Sagma’s temple. I know how that sounds, but take a look around. Players have sold off their gear and are begging in the streets of Havenstock for any gold they can donate to this “temple.” Don’t let that happen to you.

  There are two things you can do to help. First, break your visors. Trust me, I did. Step on the lenses to break the plastic. You’ll still be able to log in, even if you can’t see the color red anymore.

  Then, come to the desert at noon tomorrow. We’re going to destroy the temple.

  Play hard,

  Coral_Daring

  Maybe people would listen to her, maybe they wouldn’t, but she had to try. She wouldn’t feel right if she sat on that information without warning other players.

  She logged back in and sat down against the outer wall of the castle. She reached into her inventory bag and pulled out the qualia she had gotten from the dwarven mines. It was silly to turn in all of her ore for this useless goop, especially when she could have sold the other ores and started paying some of her bills at home.

  She rolled the putty in her hand and tried to shape it into something, but it was as useless as before. It wouldn’t stick. It wouldn’t take the shape of anything useful. She should have listened when the dwarf foreman at the mine told her no one knew how to craft with it. What made her think she was so special that she’d be able to do it herself?

  27

  Daniel waited by the metal gate as Grum disappeared down the dark hallway beyond. It took several minutes for Grum to return.

  “I woke her up,” he said. “I told her about Hiber and she started to cry. She thought she was the last ancient left. She wants to meet him too. Can you help her escape?”r />
  “I will certainly try,” Daniel said. “Did she say anything about stopping the Regent’s war?”

  “She didn’t believe you,” Grum said. “She said all humans want war. She said it’s in your veins.”

  “Thank you anyway, Grum,” Daniel said, turning away from the small ogre trapped behind metal bars.

  “I believe you, though,” Grum said. “I met a human once who valued peace. That’s the kind of person you can reason with. The ones who want war, not so much. Good luck!”

  Quest Update: Ancient Mystery (I)

  Embra the dragon is indeed trapped beneath Havenstock, as is an ogre named Grum.

  Reward: Improved relationship with Hiber.

  Daniel climbed the stairs up from the basement of the castle. Grum might be right. Maybe the Regent couldn’t be reasoned out of war. In that case, Daniel’s only choice was to defeat the whole Havenstock army himself.

  The smell of roasting meat lured Daniel to the kitchen, where he found Sal cooking at the castle’s impressive array of stoves. The royal chefs sat on the other side of the room, cowering in either fear or disgust at the green-skinned player handling all their pots and pans.

  “Daniel,” he said, “I cooked up all the wyvern meat for the Regent. This will make everyone stronger. Are you sure that’s what we really want? I mean, the dwarves were kinda nice to us.”

  “Maybe the extra experience will bring a little wisdom,” Daniel said. “I’m hopeful that tonight’s dinner will convince the army not to attack after all.”

  “It’s good to have hope,” Sal said. “Say, if we really do level up the guards, maybe the Regent will like me better, and ogres in general. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s good to have hope, too,” Daniel said.

  “It should be pretty tasty,” Sal said. “I’m dressing the meat with a rich demi-glace. I call it Orkish Delight.”

  “Just don’t tell them it’s snake meat or they won’t eat it, no matter what sauce you put on it,” Daniel joked. “Sal, did you save any of the bush leaves you ate earlier in the Dour Scrub?”

  “No,” Sal said. “There were no buffs for eating that, just dry heaves. No sense in taking up an inventory slot on that. Why?”

  “No reason,” Daniel said. So much for that option.

  Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuussssssseeee meeeeeeeeeeeee. That voice again. I am ready to serve. Put me to my purpose and be rid of me.

  That vial of poison in his inventory had been nothing but a nuisance. Although, maybe this time it made a good point. It was a small vial of morimora, the deathberry. A full pot of demi-glace would dilute it though. It could be more of a sickberry in that case. If Daniel were right, the Regent’s forces would be ill enough to call off the raid on the mines. If Daniel were wrong…

  If Daniel did nothing, war would ensue. That’s all he knew. He had to try something. He uncorked the bottle when Sal turned his back and dumped its contents into the simmering pot of thick brown sauce. He started to stir it in when Sal turned back toward the stove.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sal said, “I’ve got this all under control.”

  “Ok,” Daniel said. “I have a big favor to ask though. When the banquet starts, don’t start eating without me. Everyone else might start, but I’d like to get the toasts out of the way before we dig in. Can you do that, buddy?”

  “Um, sure. If it really matters to you.”

  “Thanks.” Daniel left the kitchen. The feast would start soon, but now that he had a plan in motion he had to tie up a few loose ends. He still had 240 gold in his orange pouch, and this might be his last chance to use it. He wandered the halls until he arrived back at the room with stable implements. He found two boys there banging dents out of old horseshoes.

  “You there,” Daniel said, “what level are you?”

  “Level 9 Stablehand, sir,” the boy said.

  “Here are some gold coins,” Daniel said, reaching into his orange pouch. “I need you to deliver a message to a woman in the Dour Scrub.”

  The boy’s eyes grew wide with fear, but he didn’t shy away from the dangerous trip.

  “Warn her that Sagma will battle with Podonos tomorrow at noon. It may be the last chance her people will have to witness their patron deity.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll fetch a horse right away.”

  “Good. And you, what level are you?”

  “Level 10 Stablehand, sir,” the second boy said. That was a relief. Both boys were well within Daniel’s hiring range.

  “You’ll deliver a message up on Hiber Mountain,” Daniel said, pulling coins from his orange pouch. That left him with only 50 gold coins, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t expect to keep any hirelings after this. “Look for a creature named Hiber, who lives in a cave toward the top of the mountain. Tell him that Embra the dragon is imprisoned here, but that I cannot free her yet. I must go to the desert and prevent Sagma from slaying Podonos and brainwashing the good people of Travail. If I succeed, I will happily help Embra.”

  The boys looked at each other quizzically. Daniel had just trusted them with some very important information. Hopefully they stayed loyal to him and didn’t pass the information onto others instead. He needed his messengers far away from the castle before the feast was over.

  In an ideal world, he’d have sent a message to Marco too, asking Marco to abandon his post and join them in the fight against Sagma. Daniel could only hire two messengers at a time though. Besides, Marco had already made clear which side he was on.

  Now to find Coral. Daniel had to tell her to avoid eating tonight’s meal.

  28

  With nothing she could craft, Coral’s only option was to hang around the castle and wait for this “banquet,” unless she wanted to venture off on her own. She was seriously considering it. No amount of battling dwarves was going to restore Sal’s sanity, and if they did manage to get any quest rewards, Sal was likely to donate his right back to Sagma. If Daniel were working on a way out of this mess, he’d better come through soon.

  >> Construction update: The restoration of Sagma’s tower is 92% complete. Donate gold to the god of wisdom through your status window to restore his temple to glory. Gold needed: 70,781,230.

  Strike that. He’d better come through very soon.

  A shadow fell on Coral while she was thinking. She looked up and saw Daniel standing there, dressed in his torn iron armor, blocking the sun.

  “It’s time for dinner,” he said, “but do me a favor. Don’t eat until I give you the go-ahead. I want to see how things shape up in there.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked. “And why do you have another Dishonor debuff?”

  “Just follow my lead,” he said and walked back toward the castle entrance. He was acting strange. She could leave right now, head to the desert and catch up with Alua. There was some actual good they could do there, as opposed to chowing down with the Regent and his army of would-be dwarf killers.

  Still, they had stuck together this long. She got up from the grass and followed Daniel to a room behind the throne room, which was set up with a dozen long tables all full of guards in uniform and armor. They took a seat at the Regent’s table.

  “When I give you a gift,” the Regent said, pointing at the tear across Daniel’s breastplate, “I expect you to take better care of it.”

  Daniel said nothing in return. “Your Highness,” Coral said. “Is it true that there’s a dragon under the castle?”

  The Regent’s upper lip curled up toward his nose. “Perhaps.”

  “Why?” Coral asked.

  “Because it hasn’t agreed to the terms of its parole. Any creature that yearns to be free must earn to be free,” the Regent said.

  Coral wondered if the Regent thought the same way about people.

  The banquet hall had shields and weapons mounted to the wall every ten feet or so for decoration, with brown banners tucked behind them (or were they red?) that drooped along the wall between fixtures. Coral reached a
hand out and placed it on Daniel’s arm to get his attention before pointing to the other end of the hall.

  Opposite the Regent’s spot at the head of the long room, sat a weapon in a wooden frame covered by glass perched above a doorway. It was large, and white, with no trace of the blood it had once been covered in. The Soulkeeper Axe. Coral was surprised at first that the Regent hadn’t destroyed the weapon that caused Havenstock so much trouble in Otto’s hands. It made perfect sense though. He was ruthless and craved power more than anything else. Now he had one of the most powerful weapons in Travail at his disposal, hanging like a trophy in his mess hall.