Eden's Gate: The Scourge: A LitRPG Adventure

by Edward Brody

  “Yes, Master Darion.”

  Chapter Eight

  2/18/0001

  Before heading to Mist Vale, I decided to step outside the Mages Hall and meander around Highcastle to see if anything had changed. As I exited the building, I pulled my hood over my head to avoid anyone recognizing me from the ousting in the Arena. It had been a while since the event, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  Things were mostly the same in Inner Highcastle as they had been before, with people outside selling their wares and citizens wandering around going about their everyday lives. The number of vendors and level of foot traffic was lower, however—only about half of what I would’ve expected, and several buildings had their windows and doors boarded up. Though the air was relatively peaceful, I could see the look of concern in people’s eyes.

  I paused at the Arena, and there was still a sign at the entrance indicating that it was closed for repairs. I was disappointed that it still hadn’t reopened, but it made me feel a little better about my current agenda. With no Arena in play, getting back to my quest to become champion and finding Rachel was put on the backburner by necessity rather than choice.

  As I continued my trek toward Outer Highcastle, the thing I noticed most about Inner Highcastle was the lack of soldiers patrolling the area. Normally, it was nearly impossible to stroll the paved paths without seeing guards, but I didn’t see a single one until reaching the gate that separated the inner and outer regions. I presumed that all available hands had been moved outward to reinforce Outer Highcastle or sent off to help retake the Freelands from the Scourge.

  “I’m telling you, this is a good thing,” I overheard a mustached man dressed in a posh black suit and shiny shoes telling another finely dressed man as I was passing by.

  The other man sighed as he leaned against a tall building with a ‘closed’ sign slapped on the front of the door. “I don’t know. It’s risky—could be a big mistake.”

  The mustached man shook his head. “I’ve been doing this for years, I tell you. Each time the Scourge attacks, prices in Highcastle rocket up dramatically. Folks in Outer Highcastle and surrounding areas who’ve managed to save up a little coin do their best to move into and secure their place in the Inner Circle. It drives values here through the roof. You can’t put a price on safety.”

  “But what if the Scourge breaches the Inner Highcastle wall? We’ll lose everything.”

  At mention of the Scourge, I paused near the corner and continued to eavesdrop on what they had to say.

  The mustached man laughed. “Then we’ll both likely die anyway, and it’ll all be for nothing. But all joking aside, Inner Highcastle hasn’t been breached in our lifetime and likely never will.”

  The man leaning against the building took a step back and looked up towards its window. The building was quite similar to the other shophouses in Highcastle and reminded me a lot of Bartholomew’s building—the one for which I had the deed and had a huge tax debt outstanding.

  “I reckon it’ll go up fifty percent, if not double in value as soon as the battle ends,” the mustached man said. “And even if it doesn’t, Inner Highcastle is prime real estate. We can turn this into a fine armor shop.”

  “I was thinking a leatherworking shop myself,” the other man said. “I have a brother who breeds dropes.”

  “That could work too,” the mustached man cooed.

  The other man sighed and nodded several times.

  “So, you’ll partner with me on the deal?”

  The other man continued nodding for a couple seconds before finally saying, “Fine, I’m in.”

  “You made the right choice!” the mustached man said jovially. He leaned forward, offered his hand, and patted the man on the shoulder as they shook. “A fine investment! It will put us both on the path to riches.”

  The men walked away from the building while continuing to chat, and I wondered if there was any truth in what the mustached man was saying. With Bartholomew’s deeds in my possession, I could theoretically take over ownership of his building if I paid his tax debt, and with the nearly identical building beside it selling for a higher price, that was already a moderately good deal. If real estate prices in the city really went up after the Scourge attacks, that could turn out to be a steal of a lifetime.

  It sounded interesting, but as awesome as it sounded, I had to shake my head at the thought. We didn’t have the money to pay the taxes, and we had tons of rebuilding to do in Edgewood. With no big paydays on the horizon, I had to file the idea of owning Highcastle real estate away in the ‘maybe one day’ category.

  I pulled away from the area and continued down the path.

  When I made it to Outer Highcastle, it was a completely different atmosphere than the inner region. The smell of smoke hung in the air, and there was hardly anyone on the streets.

  A few of the braver vendors still had their stands set up outside and some others were standing by the doors of their shops, hawking their wares, yet ready to dart through their doors at a moment’s notice. But other than a handful of citizens scurrying around anxiously and a few vendors, the only other people on the streets were workers on ladders trying to fix the damage from earlier Scourge attacks.

  The further out I went, the more prevalent the damage was. Sooty footprints lined the footpaths and there were dried pools of blood further out. Near the very edge of the city, there were a few completely destroyed buildings.

  The entrance into Highcastle was guarded by two guards, as per usual, but every twenty meters or so along the usually unguarded perimeter stood another guard, all holding their weapons and forming a human barrier against any possible attack.

  With nothing more to see, I pulled out my rune to Mist Vale and was about to recall, when I had a sudden thought; if I was about to update Queen Faranni on our situation, it was probably a good idea to check in on King Rutherford first. I still wasn’t sure if there was a motive to why the Scourge were attacking, other than maybe ‘political power’, and perhaps the King could offer more intel on what exactly was going on. He had granted me freedom of passage into his castle, after all, so it couldn’t hurt to stop by.

  I put the rune away, started back for Inner Highcastle, but paused when I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

  “Hey!” the voice said sharply. “You… come here.”

  I turned towards the sound and saw nothing but a couple of thick bushes near a boarded-up home, but upon closer inspection, I noticed a hooded head peeking through and Windell, the odd shady character who had once sold me kroka, crouched in a dark vacancy just big enough for his body.

  “Come here,” Windell insisted. He pushed his head out of the shadows, showing his spiky-toothed smile, and looked from side to side to make sure no one else was around. “I’ve got more of what you want. You’re into kroka, right?”

  I noticed immediately that I felt no internal wave of desire for kroka at the mention of it like I had before. It seemed that I may have finally overcome the addiction, and I wasn’t in a rush to get hooked on it again.

  I smiled at my lack of interest and shook my head at the man. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Come on! How about some joojak?” He stepped forward and licked his lips with an unusually thick, greyish tongue. “I’ve even got a little bit of a demon’s breath if you’re really looking for a kick.”

  “No,” I repeated, shaking my head. Though I was interested to know what demon’s breath was, I didn’t want to waste much time, and I was pretty sure it was just another illicit drug that would get me in all sorts of trouble rather than doing me any good.

  “Tell me what you’re looking for then. Kroka, tickets, special weapons, lockpicks?”

  “You have lockpicks?” I asked.

  “Batch of 20 for 200 gold.”

  “Expensive,” I said.

  Windell shrugged. “Can’t go any lower. They’re in high demand these days.”

  I rummaged through my bag for the required 200 gold.
“How much for joojak?”

  “Price is up a little since the attacks. 450 gold for the usual.”

  The guild had been through a lot of stress the past few days, and I wasn’t sure when we’d have a calm night where we could all sit around and have another casual fireside chat, but I knew it was needed soon. I didn’t know if Aaron had stashed away any joojak, so I figured buying a little to have on hand wouldn’t be a bad idea. Thus far, joojak hadn’t led to any bad experiences, unlike the much more powerful and addictive kroka.

  “600 for both?” I asked.

  Windell frowned and shrugged at the same time. “I guess I can accept that.”

  I gave Windell the required 600 gold, and he counted it out before handing me twenty lockpicks and a bag of joojak—identical to the one he had sold me before.

  “Pleasure doing business with you again,” the man said with a devilish grin.

  I dumped the goods in my bag and gave a subtle nod. “You’re working the bushes of Outer Highcastle now, I see?”

  “Work?” the man asked. He looked to each side and smirked. “I’m just passing through and enjoying the city, pal.”

  “Right…” I groaned, playing along with his silly attempt at pretending to be legit. “Anyway, I guess I should look for you here if I need to find you again? Not in Inner Highcastle?”

  The man smirked. “If you need to find me, you will. Just look to the shadows. And if you’re really looking for me, I’ll find you.” He glanced to his flanks again before falling back into the shady area between the bushes. “Now go on your way,” he whispered from within. “Don’t linger.”

  I shook my head as I left the man and continued on my way back to the Inner Highcastle.

  When I finally arrived at the entrance to the King’s castle, the two guards who were at the door recognized me right away. They both nodded to me as I approached, and pushed the doors open for me so I could enter—a stark contrast to the flak I had received from them the first few times I was there.

  The King was sitting on his throne next to the Queen, and Isabella, their daughter, was hovering near his side. In front of the Queen, a neatly dressed woman was kneeling on one knee.

  “Did your husband have debts?” the King asked. “It’s not unheard of to be dragged out and roughed up a bit if someone’s been borrowing or gambling.”

  “No debts, my King, and my husband never gambled. I’m certain it was a kidnapping!” the woman wailed. “He went limp as they took him. I couldn’t do anything but scream!”

  “Did he have any enemies?” the King asked.

  “He’s as kind a man as any. We’ve quarreled with the neighbor over their pooch before, but it’s never been to the point where someone would kidnap another.”

  “Were you harmed?” the King probed. He pressed his lips together hard and stroked his beard.

  “No, they just took him and disappeared into the night. They didn’t even say a word as they snatched him.”

  “That’s the fourth report in the last two weeks,” the Queen said. “Worrisome.”

  “It must be the Scourge,” Isabella claimed.

  The King sighed, still stroking his beard. “Yes, my dear. It could be… But the first report of a kidnapping occurred even before the Scourge attacked.”

  “Well, certainly they would plan things beforehand,” the Queen said. “It could be part of an underlying attempt to sow fear amongst the public before and during this war.”

  The King nodded. “Perhaps. I’m just not sure the orcs are sophisticated enough to do such a thing. And how would orcs make it in and out of Highcastle without being noticed?”

  “Not orcs,” the woman said. “Whoever it was definitely looked human—a bit strange lookin’ but definitely not a greenskin.”

  “There are evil people in the world,” the King said. “I wouldn’t put it past some bastard rogue to take gold in exchange for helping the orcs. A couple of lowlifes from Knuckle Bay, maybe. Did you get a look at where they headed?”

  The woman shook her head. “I was too frightened. I hid until I was certain that they’d left and then immediately went to report the issue to the guards. The kidnappers were quiet in how they came and went—unsettling how quiet they were actually.”

  “Hiding would make the job quite easy for them, wouldn’t it?” Isabella said. “Why wouldn’t you try to stop them?”

  The Queen made a sharp ‘tsk’ noise. “Do not blame the victim, dear.”

  The King looked up from the woman as he noticed me approaching. “We have another visitor, it seems.”

  I was about to speak before Windsor came scurrying from somewhere inside the castle, a thick parchment flapping around in his hands. He slid as he came to an abrupt stop in front of the King and Queen, straightened his back and cleared his throat before saying, “It’s a ‘no’ from the Mages Guild, your majesty.”

  The King sighed. “As expected, I suppose.” He turned his attention back to me again. “Did you hear that, Gunnar? Your Mages Faction is practically useless to us here in Highcastle. I’m not sure what good it is to have them around other than their ability to provide shields during Arena battles. I ought to take that damn tower away and turn it into something useful.”

  I cleared my throat. “From what I’ve been told, it would be a political maneuver to act in favor of Highcastle during the war.”

  The King rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course. The mages always have an excuse.”

  Windsor began unfolding the parchment in his hands. “Our commanders feel semi-confident that they can retake Newich with our current forces, but since the breach, very few orc commanders have been seen anywhere on the battlefield. It’s unclear what the Scourge’s strategy is, but the sheer number and way they’re spread out are proving to be, even without their best, as one commander has put it, ‘a stressful pain in the ass.”

  The King sighed and his jaw tensed. “We haven’t seen an attack of this magnitude for some time. It’s worrying that they’ve gained so much ground without using the full strength of their commanders.” He shook his head slowly. “We shouldn’t have sent half our army to Saltreef.”

  “We couldn’t have predicted this,” the Queen said. “Saltreef is an important asset, and we did what was necessary at the time.”

  “What’s Saltreef?” I asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Saltreef is a small island my father captured and colonized many decades ago. It was once known for its deathsalt mines, but now it’s known for its beautiful beaches and friendly people.” The King took a deep breath. “It’s a week’s sail from here, so we had an alliance with—” The King snarled and groaned. “I won’t mention his reprehensible name. His army was to protect our distant colony, but our alliance has since failed, and pirates getting brave.”

  “If Saltreef is taken from us, there’ll be deathsalt circulating all across Eden’s Gate and certainly here in Highcastle,” the Queen explained. “We can’t allow that to happen.”

  “Ugh, deathsalt,” Windsor moaned. “What a terrible drug.”

  “Indeed, it is,” the King agreed.

  “What about worgs, Windsor?” the Queen asked. “How many are we seeing so far?”

  Windsor shook his head. “I’m not sure about that, your highness. Worgs weren’t mentioned in the report.”

  “Hopefully not many,” the Queen said. “They are terrible for our horses.”

  “Gunnar,” the King suddenly said, turning to me. “Why are you here? Did you come for a purpose?”

  I shrugged. “Just to find out what’s going on. Part of Edgewood has been destroyed by the Scourge.”

  “Pfft…” the King spat. “Edgewood is a problem of the elves.”

  “Does anyone know why they’re attacking?” I asked.

  “Power, I’m sure,” the King said. “It was only a matter of time before Ergoth tried to stake a claim to the Freelands or Highcastle even. He’s more of a warmonger than his predecessor.”

  “Why Edgewo
od?” I asked vaguely, curious to see if the King’s explanation matched that which Darion offered.

  The King shrugged. “Who knows? But if you’re having trouble there, you need to take it up with Queen Faranni and the elves. It might actually be nice if they quit hiding in the trees and got off their sweet elven asses to help take care of the Scourge.”

  The entrance to the castle squeaked loudly, and I turned to see Commander Eldrich marching into the castle, dressed for war, but with his metal helmet off and nudged under his arm.

  “Commander!” the King yelled. “What’s the situation in the Freelands?”

  The commander used his free hand to rub his fingers through his long, golden hair. “Our patrols are keeping the roads mostly travelable, but few caravans are taking the risk.”

  “Perhaps that’s the Scourge’s strategy,” the King mused. “Instead of coming for Highcastle head-on with their strongest, their plan may be to impede our trade until the economy deteriorates.”

  “I feel that’s an unlikely strategy coming from the orcs,” the Queen said. She lifted her chin to Commander Eldrich. “What about worgs?”

  “We’ve seen only a couple worgs, your highness,” the commander said.

  The King shook his head. “It all makes little sense—more goblins than we’ve ever seen, yet fewer worgs?”

  “Let’s pray it stays that way,” the Queen said. “We’ve already lost one town, and goblins are easier to handle than worg riders will ever be.”

  “We’re putting together plans to retake Newich,” the commander explained, “and members of the Fighters Guild are already being rallied to help with the defense of Highcastle and the clearance of the Freelands.”

  “Good,” the King said. “First, we must regain control of Freelands and clear out all the camps. Then we’ll pinch the rest of the Scourge off and retake the city.” He shook his head. “Who knows what kind of damage those dirty orcs and goblins are doing there? The cleanup will cost hundreds of thousands of gold.”

  “Very well,” the commander said with a bow. “We’ll continue working on the camps first.”