Eastbound and Town: A LitRPG/Gamelit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 8)

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Eastbound and Town: A LitRPG/Gamelit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 8) Page 21

by Eric Ugland


  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to. It’s reality.”

  She gave me a wink, and then walked away with her hips swaying, causing her tails to dance provocatively behind her.

  I looked over at Tarryn. He was laying on the ground, just staring at the sky.

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked. “Injured?”

  “No,” he replied, keeping his attention skyward. “But someone messed with my head.”

  “You want to expand on that?”

  “Someone messed with my head. Mucked around in my brain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Someone forced some new spells into me.”

  “You can tell when that happens?”

  “I remember you telling me you’ve used a spell book to learn a spell, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you remember that feels?”

  “Like pain and shit.”

  “Similar. Whoever did it was very skilled, and if I didn’t know what I was looking for, I’d say it was a side effect of some big oaf crushing me in a mud-pit.”

  “Do you know which new spells you’ve got?”

  “Not yet. I’m treading carefully.”

  “In your head?”

  “Yes. So please stop talking to me so I can figure out what the fuck just happened to us.”

  I laid down for a moment longer, and looking up at the sky. I tried to think back across the day, and see where things went awry. I remembered the fight with the centipedes, and I guess I remembered jumping in after Tarryn fell. But I had no memory of Tarryn falling. And I don’t know why I was muddy, or why the hole was muddy. Or why had Tarryn gotten so close to the hole.

  A shadow fell across my face. I looked up to see Ragnar peering down at me.

  “Is it nap-time?” he asked.

  “I’m not sleeping,” I said.

  “Then get up and get to work,” he said, and poked me with his spear.

  “That hurts,” I said, pushing the point away.

  “It’s supposed to. The kobolds are making you look bad.”

  I grunted, but he did have a point. Not the best one, but I think I was also happy to have an excuse not to be thinking about, well, much of anything. Especially not the strange feeling of blacking out that afternoon. Which I swore had actually been morning. Still, Tarryn was working on the mental side of things, so I should go take care of the physical stuff.

  Amber stayed with Tarryn while I went with Ragnar and the rest of the crew. There was a copse of trees in the way. They were newly grown — it looked like there had been a fire here sometime in the last twenty years that burned out a stretch, and that was now where Maja was angling our road. It would be easy to dig and clear the land there.

  I took my position at the front again, and started the heavy physical labor that I loved so much. Swinging the axe, pushing trees out of the way, and summoning prinkies to haul logs and clear stumps. We were really making good time.

  When the sun came down, and I sat down next to the fire, I realized I was good and tired. My body felt happy to have been used, and, for the most part, I was ready to accept that it had just been a weird day, that I needed some sleep.

  There was one more circle I couldn’t quite square though. I’d been summoning prinkies throughout the day to help with the work. Every other day, I’d do that until I hit my limit. But today, I hadn’t hit that limit. Looking around our little campsite, I saw a sea of the furry creatures. Hundreds upon hundreds of the things. Also, when I tried to summon more, more were available. A lot more. They just kept coming and coming, like the most ridiculous clown car. Finally, I had to stop, because I was worried they’d crush me in the night.

  They were everywhere. Branches in the trees bent down under the weight of prinkies, who sat attentively, awaiting orders. The firelight came back reflected in countless eyes everywhere I looked, all of it with a slightly glittery twinkle, denoting a happy furry mystical creature.

  Ragnar served up a bowl of stew, and was about to pass it over my way when he realized there was no way he could get from his spot at the fire to me. The space had filled up with prinkies.

  And all the prinkies held out their tiny little hands, ready to grab the bowl and take it wherever Ragnar wished.

  “You doing this for a reason?” Ragnar asked.

  “I seem to have gotten more prinkies,” I said.

  “Yeah, I see that. But you gotta have them out and about like this?”

  With a thought, I un-summoned all of them.

  It was suddenly very still and quiet. And darker.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “Creepier,” Ragnar replied. ”But I guess better too.”

  “I like them,” Maja said, her voice quiet as she spoke into her stew.

  “I mean, they’re helpful,” I said. “But they also tend to get underfoot constantly.”

  “They want you to think they’re cute,” Tarryn said. “Engineered to be cuddly little creatures so they can latch onto you and drain your mana like magical leeches.”

  “Are magical leeches a real thing?” I asked.

  “Yeah. They’re called prinkies.”

  “No, but, like—“

  “Yes, there are various creatures out there in the various worlds we cross that live off magical essence.“

  Bear nodded. “We keep a whole list of creatures to avoid. If one attaches to a fey, it gets bad.”

  “I’m a little fuzzy on that whole good and bad thing,” I said. “What do you mean, ‘bad’?”

  “Didn’t you say that once already today?” Tarryn asked.

  “It’s something I quote from time to time. Maybe?“

  “No, it was definitely today. I, man, this is going to bug me. Who were we talking to?”

  “Bear?”

  Bear shook her head. “I’ve been scouting today. Haven’t been around you much.”

  “Did you find out what new spell you got?” I asked.

  Tarryn shook his head. “Not looking yet.”

  “Oh.”

  For some reason, that just shut down the conversation. Even the kobolds were quiet. There was an unsettling feeling hanging over the camp, and I think everyone was trying to reason through what was causing it.

  “You guys figure out watches,” I said. “I really need to sleep tonight.”

  I thought Ragnar might say something, but then he just nodded. I nodded back, then poured the stew down my throat, pretending it didn’t burn the shit out of me. Then I laid down, summoned a bunch of prinkies to act as a blanket and one as a pillow, and I went the fuck to sleep.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  I’ve never been a good sleeper. Ever. In either lifetime, at any age. So I wasn’t exactly surprised when I woke up that night with a start. I was, however, incredibly surprised to see a face directly over mine, staring down at me. Furry, kind of like a bear, but smaller, and more pointed. It had a dark muzzle with with lighter brown fur around it, and small round ears coming off its head.

  It blinked.

  I rolled over and to my feet and got a dagger in my hand in what I thought was a pretty impressive motion. I was ready to fight.

  The creature in front of me took a step back and put its hands — or paws, more like paws — out. It was standing upright, maybe four feet tall, four feet and a bit, but stocky. A lot of weight and muscle under heavy fur.

  “Easy,” the creature said. “I’m a little confused.”

  “Makes two of us,” I replied.

  “Yeah, but why am I back?”

  I twisted my head to get a different angle to look at the guy. He looked like a wolverine, with big canines in his mouth, claws on the ends of his paws, and a short tail.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “But I know where I was before that.”

  “Which was?”

  “Home. Coggeshall.”

  “The fuck you were. I’d know if—“
/>
  “That’s what I’m saying, Montana. I’m different now.”

  “Are you—“

  “Skeld. I’m Skeld Woodingson. Member of your hirð?”

  I looked at the creature, and I did quick peek into my character sheet and screen. Specifically, I pulled up the hirð list.

  Hirð of Imperial Duke Montana Coggeshall

  Leader: Montana Coggeshall

  Hirðmen: Ragnar Helfdane

  Skeld Woodingson

  Tarryn Flynn

  Nikolai Petroff

  Bear Snowgust

  I very carefully hid my smile because it’s not everyday your friend comes back from the dead and you get a chance to fuck with him.

  “Who?”

  “Skeld Woodingson.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “I’m Skeld.”

  “No, he’s an otter.”

  “He was a lutra. I was a lutra. I’m Skeld. I’m not an otter.”

  “I know you’re not an otter, he was an otter.”

  “Lutra.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very fucking sure!”

  “Skeld never got angry like this.”

  “I am Skeld, and I’m angry like this.”

  “Nah.”

  “I am Skeld.”

  “I know,” I said. “Just figured I needed to fuck with you—“

  “Fuck you,” he replied.

  I threw down the dagger, took the two steps I needed to get to him, and picked him up in a bear hug. Or, I guess, a wolverine hug. “I am so glad to see you.”

  “Can’t... breathe... but... happy... too...”

  I put him down, shaking my head. “It’s, I mean, how?”

  “Uh, I woke up over there,” he pointed back behind him, “in a ring of trees. Just, like, from a nap. But I felt really different, and I, I mean, I look really different.”

  “I’d say. You’re finally bigger than Ragnar.”

  “I’ve always been taller than him.”

  “Eh.”

  “I did have a piece of parchment in my hand. I think I dropped it when you pulled the dagger on me.”

  After a little looking around, we found the paper. He passed it over to me, and I was about to ask why when I saw that it had my name on it in beautiful calligraphy.

  It was a note from Mister Paul.

  Montana.

  Can’t say how much you’re going to remember. I don’t think they were quite as delicate as I would have hoped with your memories. However, as agreed, here is Skeld. When you finish reading this note, it will turn into a small wooden cube. Do not lose it. The cube is your building. Place it anywhere in your holding, and it will offer you options for what it shall turn into. Again, nothing directly defensive in nature. Lastly, you have got quite the tonnage of mithril in your bag. I made sure the weight of gold was replaced with weight of mithril, not value, so you might have enough to outfit an army. Smart move on my part, if I do say so myself. I do regret how other things wound up in there with the eight. They are a disagreeable lot on a good day, and yesterday was not a good day. You are on their radar now, not a phrase used in Vuldranni often, but I surmise you will get what I mean. Sadly, this means you must move your timetable up. They will be coming for you, in their own ways. Prepare to fight, Duke Coggeshall. Either that, or plan to perish.

  Smooches, Mister Paul

  p.s. I know Skeld is no longer a lutra, but at least he is not a finnigorn!

  I looked up from the note. Immediately, the paper sucked into itself, like a tiny black hole, and became a small wooden cube about the size of a six-sided die.

  “What happened to the note?” new-Skeld asked.

  “Little bit of magic,” I said, holding up the cube. “I think.”

  Skeld took the cube from me and looked at each side, then tossed it back.

  “Weird,” he said.

  “Weird explains a lot of things, recently.”

  “Always does around you,” he replied.

  “Your life wasn’t weird before you met me?”

  “I mean, I wasn’t a carcajou before I met you.”

  “New race?”

  He nodded.

  “Have you heard of it before?”

  He shook his head. “Totally new to me.”

  “Level?”

  “One.”

  “Shit.”

  “But my stats are better across the board. And my skills and abilities are all the same.”

  “Still part of the hirð?”

  He nodded. “That whole past-death thing coming back to haunt me.”

  “In more ways than one,” I said.

  He smiled.

  “I guess,” I said, “now would be the time to leave the hirð if you wanted out. Wouldn’t exactly lose any experience, would you?”

  “None to lose,” he replied, “but I don’t want to leave. Too addicted to the weird.”

  “You talk to Ragnar yet?”

  “No. Came to you first. I had that note.”

  “Makes sense. But let’s go say hello to the rest of the crew.”

  A very small part of me felt slightly bad to be waking everyone up. We were all working long, hard days, and needed our sleep. Well, everyone else needed sleep. I didn’t really need it the way they did, but I remembered the days when I did need it.

  As we walked over to the group, something bothered me.

  “How’d you get past whoever was on watch?” I asked.

  “Dunno,” Skeld replied. His voice sounded odd, partly because it wasn’t quite the same as before, but somehow Skeld but also sounded like Skeld. Like he used the right words and had the right cadence to sound like Skeld, but his voice was deeper, more gruff.

  I stopped and started counting. Ragnar, Bear, Amber, Tarryn — they were all in their normal spots under a tree near the fire. The kobolds were under a second tree, about twenty feet distant. Baltu was nearest the fire, opposite me. Maja had a hammock strung up in a tree.

  And there was a kobold sitting on a branch, asleep, clearly supposed to be the one on night-watch.

  “I think I needed to bring more guards on this little jaunt,” I said.

  “Maybe next time.”

  “I mean, now you’re here--“

  “With nothing.”

  At which point I realized that yes, in fact, he was naked. It was always a bit tough to tell with the heavily furred creatures. They just looked like, well, animals, so I didn’t find it strange when they didn’t have clothes on.

  “I’m sure I’ve got some stuff in the bag you could wear if you want,” I said. “And weapons.”

  “Always with the weapons.”

  I opened the bag and pulled out a spear.

  “Start with the important stuff first,” I said.

  He smiled, and took the spear in his hand. He gave it a test thrust, then a little spin. He quickly moved into some basic forms, and it was clear the muscle memory he’d developed over his first life had transferred over to his second. Which made me really interested to see how he would progress from level one this time.

  Just then I heard a sharp twang from the direction of the forests to the west. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in my side.

  A bolt stuck out about two inches from the side of my stomach.

  “Sound the alarm,” I said calmly, reaching into the bag and pulling out a large shield. I strapped it to my arm as more bolts fired out of the woods. Most were off their mark, but a few thunked into the heavy wood of the shield.

  “ALARM!!” Shouted Skeld. “We’re under attack.”

  “Skeld,” I shouted, “Baltu. Get him safe.”

  “On it,” Skeld called out.

  I kicked the fire, sending flaming logs into the woods in a shower of sparks.

  The others got to their feet, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. I knelt behind the shield, and sent my tremorsense out. Lots of hits. Seemed like the goblins were trying
to throw down a big attack. Meant I needed a little backup to give my people time to get their shit together.

  Prinkies to the rescue. Which was a bit hard because they didn’t exactly fight. But they did like cuddles.

  I started summoning prinkies as quickly as I could. Hordes of them.

  Still kneeling behind the shield, I looked out across the sea of furry faces.

  “Go hug those goblins over there!” I shouted.

  The prinkies, ever eager to obey, rushed forward en mass. There was an odd noise as they ran through the forest looking for their targets. And then, rather quickly, the sound of crossbow bolts flying through the air was replaced with the sound of a lot of surprised shouting.

  “Bear,” I shouted. “Light! Bright lights, please.”

  I knew most everyone with me had some version of darkvision, but the night goblins were more adept at night fighting that we’d ever be. One of the perks of dwelling in darkness, I suppose. But that also meant bright light would fuck with them.

  Bear shot off a spell into the sky, and a brilliant radiant sphere grew in the sky. Suddenly, we were in something like daylight. Except the light was perfectly white. Bit eerie, but effective. I could see prinky-covered goblins all over the woods, and all of them were shielding their eyes in some capacity.

  “Tarryn,” I said, striding forward, “blow these fuckers to pieces.”

  Tarryn nodded grimly, and pulled arms akimbo. Then he slammed his hands together and a burst of brownish energy shot forth. About ten feet in front of him, the ground started to move upward until an explosion of earthen spikes shot out every which way. Lots of pops of glitter, which made me feel a little bad because there were definitely a host of prinkies caught within the spikes as well as the goblins. Whoopsy.

  I jammed the sword into the dirt and grabbed my throwing axe.

  Throw. Hit.

  Throw. Hit.

  Throw. Hit.

  I was taking out goblins as fast as I could spot them, the axe whistling and glinting in the light as it rocketed back and forth. It wasn’t full-on death with every hit, but I was definitely taking the little fuckers out of the fight.

  Skeld had Baltu over behind a large tree. Ragnar and Amber were huddled behind the other tree, and I was behind my shield in the middle, right next to the fire.

 

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