The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure

by Harmon Cooper

  Great, now she realizes I’m a Player Killer.

  “Don’t worry about what my handle reads,” I tell her as I whistle for Wolf, who swiftly emerges from the brush.

  He approaches the knocked out Tagvornin warrior and looks up at me.

  “I’m going to take care of him, don’t you worry.”

  I bring my blade down on the man’s exposed neck.

  Instakill!

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell the old woman, who has started to back away.

  I flick the blood from my sword and look for a place to wipe it. Normally, I’d wipe it on my opponent’s garb, but the dead Tagvornin warrior only has his black armor, which gets me thinking …

  I crouch and clean my blade on the grass, but there are still bloody smudge marks across the splintered fuller.

  “Get over here,” I tell the old woman. She approaches me, her gaze cast downward. “I told you, I’m not going to do anything to you. Relax.”

  Wolf barks.

  “Him neither. Actually, he’s a big softy once you get to know him. Wolf, come show the lady what I mean.”

  Wolf approaches the older woman, who appears to be in her sixties. She’s a bit chubby, but still fit for her age. Her gray and blond hair is tied back and she wears a familiar-looking apron.

  “You’re a nurse?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I was passing and I tried to stop the soldier from … ” She gulps and looks from the warrior to the dead teenager. “He’s the last one that’s left – was the last one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our militia, led by Sam Raid, has driven the Tagvornins out for now. This one was in that barn there, with her.”

  “And you just happened to be passing by?”

  She frowns bitterly and begins to weep. “She was my granddaughter. I was supposed to look after her. Her mother is in Solidus; she’s taken a temporary assignment there in the governor’s office.”

  “I see.” I pause long enough for her to stop sobbing. “I want you to help me take his armor off. Can you do that?”

  She bites her lips for a moment. “It’s illegal to steal a Tagvornin’s armor.”

  “It’s illegal to steal anyone’s armor,” I remind her. “And the only thing that separates Tagvornins and any of the other hired thugs on this continent is the extent of their violence, training, and overall demeanor. Sure, Tags are scary with their black armor with its red accents, but in the end, they are just as sloppy as the worst city guard from Scudo.”

  She chuckles a bit.

  “Good, you get me. Now I need your help. I want his armor.”

  “Are you going to wear it?”

  “No, I’m going to sell it.” I glance from her to Wolf. “But you know, now that you mention it, wearing it might be a damn good idea. Hell, I already have the animal to match.” I shrug. “It’s way too bulky for my fighting style.”

  “Your style?” she asks as she goes about unclipping the cuirass.

  “Think berserker.” I nod to Wolf. “He helps too.”

  “And your wolf’s name?”

  “Wolf.”

  She shrugs. “Easy to remember.” Her nurseliness makes itself apparent as she removes the armor, not at all bothered by the blood pooling on the ground around the man. She gets the cuirass off and I work on the gauntlets.

  Dead bodies are weird, digital world or not. It’s amazing how heavy they are and how difficult to work with they are all of a sudden. I swear I spend five minutes trying to get the guy’s gauntlets off. Don’t know why it’s so hard, but by the time they’re off, I’ve definitely broken a sweat.

  We get the rest of his stuff off, and the warrior now lies there in his cotton undergarments. Finally, something I can wipe my Splintered Sword on.

  I clean the blade, and Wolf and I haul his body into the brush.

  (^_^)

  Not all that glitters is gold, I think as I look the armor over.

  Armor: Tagvornin Cuirass

  Grade: E

  Weight: medium heavy

  Def: -50

  Special: Evade +2%

  ---

  Armor: Tagvornin Gauntlets

  Grade: E

  Weight: medium heavy

  Def: +1

  Special: Strength +1

  --

  Armor: Tagvornin Leg Armor

  Grade: E

  Weight: medium heavy

  Def: -10

  Special: Evade +1%

  --

  Armor: Tagvornin Fused Boots

  Grade: E

  Weight: medium heavy

  Def: -17

  Special: DEX +1

  About the only thing worth a damn are the gauntlets, and I’d stick out like a sore thumb if I walked around wearing those things. It’ll be hard to sell the armor too, even though the metal is worth some serious lira.

  The old woman is right; this will have to stay in my list as a possible disguise.

  “Let’s go, Wolf,” I say as soon as the armor is packed up and in my list.

  “Wait,” the old nurse calls after me.

  “Yes?”

  She looks up to me with pleading eyes. “Would you care to stay and help protect the town? The Tagvornins will return, and our militia won’t be able to hold them off. I don’t have anything to offer, but I’m sure the town elders can figure something out.”

  Quest alert!

  You have been asked to stay and help fend off the Tagvornins when they return.

  Risks: Death and/or injury.

  Rewards: Unknown.

  Would you like to stay?

  [Yes or No]

  I’ve seen the damage Tagvornins can do when they put their swords to it. By themselves they are poor at combat, which is why they usually go for the overwhelm technique. Throw enough bodies at anything and you’re bound to do some damage.

  “Sorry, I’ll have to decline.”

  “I understand.” She lowers her head.

  “I need to get to Solidus and continue my journey. You can come with me,” I offer. “It’ll be safer there. The Tagvornins know better than to assault Solidus.”

  She stares bitterly at the ground. “I’m from Tangka,” she finally says. “I can’t just run.”

  “You’re a Player Character,” I remind her. “I once was part of a village myself. Hell, I founded the village – known as Ducat. Ever heard of it?”

  “On the northeastern coast, right?”

  “Precisely.”

  “I visited once, when I was younger.”

  I smirk at this statement. There’s no telling how long the old woman has been logged in to Unigaea, but the world is only ten years old, so it can’t be that long. Odd too, that someone would want to play the role of a grandmother with NPC children and grandchildren, but I’ve encountered that plenty of times before.

  “Well, that’s where I’m going, and if you’d like to continue playing Unigaea as your current character, I suggest you come with me.”

  She turns her back to me. “My people will need me.”

  “I understand.”

  “But … I do need to get the sad news to my daughter in Solidus, the one I was telling you about.”

  Quest alert!

  Would you deliver a message to the old woman’s daughter in Solidus?

  Risks: Unknown.

  Rewards: Unknown.

  Will you help her?

  [Yes or No]

  “Sure,” I say, “just give me the message and I’ll see that it gets to her. One more thing. Ever heard of a guy named Czech Meyout? He’s supposed to have a home somewhere here.”

  Her expression sours. “The whole town has heard of him. His was one of the homes that was looted and burnt to the ground.”

  “Shit.”

  “Why shit?”

  “My original plan was to take his stash.”

  She shrugs and offers me a sad smile. “Well, it looks like your plan has changed.”

  Chapter Twelve: The Light in the Eye
of an Old Friend

  Wolf runs at a wicked pace towards Solidus. The terrain changes slightly as we travel; to the west are plains, to the east a forest that has been thinned out by lumberjacks. We pass a few of their lodges on the way, all of which are now smoldering shells.

  The Tagvornins were here.

  Wolf slows once I notice a series of stacked bodies, a few still burning. Shit. I don’t know why they’ve chosen to burn the bodies; I’ve never seen them act in this manner before. Something is awry.

  “Let’s go!”

  Wolf picks up his speed. Time blazes by and I tune it out, my mind as blank as it has ever been. We arrive in Solidus about an hour later.

  “Rest here,” I tell Wolf as we near a statue of a great warrior with a large scutum aimed towards anyone who dares attack the city. People circle the monument, muttering prayers with their heads down. One man lashes at his own back with a small whip, a practice I’ve never quite understood.

  “You know I can’t bring you into the city,” I tell him with my hand on his muzzle. He licks me and I laugh. “Begging isn’t going to help you. Sure, there isn’t an explicit ‘no wolf’ sign written at the front of the city gates, but you and I both know how hairy things will be if you come in with me. I’ll hurry.”

  He tugs his head away from me and I move my hand to his favorite scratching spot behind his ears. I give him a good scratch and he thumps his leg.

  “I just need to visit Spider House,” I tell him, “find a quest that pays well and then deliver the letter to the old woman’s daughter.” I take the letter out of my pocket and examine it again. The woman has written an address on the front side.

  Brenham Street. Room 2. Across from the Blue Bell.

  “So stay here, and keep alert. If you hear me whistle, you know what to do.”

  I continue down the winding road that leads to the city. Solidus soldiers, all going for the “knights in shining armor” look with their white-gold plackarts and short golden capes, stand in packs along the path and give anyone that looks at them funny the hairy eye.

  The city proper is surrounded by a fifteen-foot-high stone wall that features a wall walk lined with archers and other projectile weapons. Even from my vantage point, I can see the great buildings of the city poking up and over the wall. Places such as the Solidus Math and Science Academy, Solidus University, Solidus Armed Forces Academy, the Solidus Mage Tower, the government offices, the city parks and their magnificent, man-made waterfalls – all built from the taxes collected by the city’s vast holdings in the southern part of Unigaea.

  Solidus owns the south, Tagvornin the Rune Lands in the north.

  A group of begging children run to me, see that I’m a Player Killer, and run away as quickly as their little legs can take them. As I pass through the city gates, the guards look me over and one reminds me to behave myself.

  “I always do,” I tell him.

  Once I’m past the city gates, I take a left at the Dragon Fountains, a public work installed by the last governor that features six expertly crafted dragons all either taking off or mid-flight. Water trickles from their mouths into a great fountain known to grant wishes to anyone that throws lira in it.

  Every morning, the fountain is empty, letting everyone know the gods have granted all their wishes. So many coins have been thrown into the water that it has turned to a light rust color.

  I laugh to myself as I watch a stable boy chuck a coin in and make a wish.

  I’ve been here at night and I see what really happens. Street urchins and the poor of the city wage war over the coins. The city guards don’t really care how much they fight or what happens when they do. After all, one less mouth to feed is one less mouth to feed. They do, however, demand that the city’s poor don’t try to get lira until after midnight, giving time for the tourists to return to their hotels.

  I spot the alley that leads to Spider House up ahead.

  The Player Killer pub is actually a repurposed garden that has been covered by a roof that hardly looks like it would sustain heavy rainfall. A poorly bricked wall has been constructed at the entrance to the pub, keeping its inner happenings away from prying eyes. The only decoration in front of the joint is a single potted palm that has long since died due to the lack of light, water, or both.

  I enter the standing-room-only place in search of a quest and immediately my eyes narrow in on Deathdale, who stands in the far corner, sipping on a cup of hot tea.

  (^_^)

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I say as I sidle up next to her.

  Spider House is mostly empty, aside from a group of men playing a card game at the far corner of the room. The two men, half-giant and half-elf by the looks of them, speak in hushed tones. The bartender, a female with muscles larger than mine, places a napkin before me and asks what I’d like to drink.

  “Looking for work,” I tell her.

  She hands me a book with leather binding and returns to cleaning a cup.

  “Not going to talk to me?” I ask Deathdale.

  The Solar Mage stares down into her tea, as if there is someone drowning in it.

  “Look, we’re both Player Characters. Mind telling me where you’re from? I’m from Chicago. Let’s start there.”

  Deathdale brushes her gray hair out of her face. I’m sitting on her non-eye-patch side, and when she moves I get another whiff of the blue melon scent I got when we were riding yesterday.

  “Crazy how you disappeared this morning, or was it last night? I’m guessing you noticed the red sky.”

  She takes a sip from her tea, sets it down, and turns to me just as a portion of the roof crashes in above two men in the corner.

  A rock rimmed with fire and radiant energy tears through the poorly constructed ceiling. More rocks come hurtling down from the sky, and Deathdale has already started to blast them away with her solar powers.

  I dive for cover as a smaller meteor smashes through a beam holding the ceiling. I practically tackle Deathdale as I grab her by the waist and run towards the exit.

  Rather than kick or struggle, the Solar Mage continues firing over my shoulder at the incoming meteors. We burst out into the alley and the ceiling collapses.

  “Fuck!” I just barely manage to shout. “What the hell was that?”

  The sky above is crimson, lit by a series of tumbling rocks. Chaos has charged the air, filling it with fire, smoke, and blood-curdling screams.

  “This way!” I point to the right, towards the exit point of the city.

  To my surprise, Deathdale turns left. Her gloves come off and her hands flare up, boiling with pure light. She explodes an incoming meteor that’s just about to crush through a small shop.

  She’s fighting back?

  The Solar Mage charges forward. As she does so, her legs fill with light and she’s suddenly airborne.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper as she zips into the air to meet an incoming meteor head on. “You can fly!?”

  I watch her take out meteors for a moment longer, then I turn back to the city gates.

  Wolf. The thought of getting to my canine companion sparks a fire under my heels. I charge towards the city gates, pushing my way through the crowd of people spilling out of their homes and onto the cobblestone pathway.

  I catch blowback from a meteor that tears into an armor shop, sending bolts of melting metal into the air that cut into the side of my armor.

  My vision pane flashes and my ears ring when I’m tossed into a bench.

  Through the bench I go, right into a small fountain. I stand, shake the water out of my long hair and just as I do, another explosion sends me into the sidewall of an apothecary.

  It tore through my armor?

  There’s now a four-inch-wide gash across the portion of my armor that is supposed to be protecting my ribcage.

  No time to survey the damage.

  I push off the wall and blink my eyes rapidly as the sound of crumbling exteriors, explosions, and cries for help infiltrate my hea
dspace. Shouldering past a city guard running in the opposite direction, I press forward, completely oblivious to how fast my legs are carrying me. The city gate looms into view and with a loud BOOM, it is reduced to rubble in an instant.

  The backfire sends me into a tree.

  I cough up blood and once I can see straight again, I crawl towards the crumbled city gate amidst the cries of terror, the people blazing past me, the fires whipping in the wind, and the sickening sound of meteors striking.

  I stick my fingers in my mouth to whistle for Wolf, misting blood into the air as I push the wind out.

  Come on … come on.

  I bring myself to my feet and trudge towards the city gate. I’ve got a bad feeling, a sinking feeling in my gut that Wolf is down, possibly buried somewhere under the rubble. I limp past a smattering of soldiers trying to maintain order and shitting their pants at the same time. One holds the remains of a teenage boy while another tries to lift a large boulder off his fallen companion.

  I grab a health potion from my list, chug it back, and toss the bottle aside.

  +350 HP!

  My spirits lift and my body rejuvenates as the nicks and scratches quickly heal up.

  I place my free hand on the gash in the armor covering my ribcage. The armor protected my skin, but with a gash like that, it will need to be repaired.

  In my other hand I hold my Splintered Sword, and because of all the intensity, I have no earthly idea when I unsheathed it. As I try to get my bearings, I notice something big and black whip through the smoke.

  “Wolf!”

  He rushes over to me and I practically sweep him up in my arms. He’s panting anxiously, the look in his eyes one of utter concern. He jumps up to me and nearly takes me down.

  I push him back down. “We’ve got to go, Wolf!”

  The thought of Deathdale rushing towards the mayhem rather than away from it hits me as I mount Wolf.

  “This way!” I shout, pointing back to the chaos.

  He gets the gist and heads back towards the city center. A few people scream and leap out of our path, but most are too busy trying to gather their loved ones and avoid the flaming rocks coming from the sky to even notice us.

  We continue forward like this, amidst explosions, debris spinning in the air, and general bedlam.