Dagger of Doom: A LitRPG Adventure (Beta Tester Book 5)

by Rachel Ford

  And, just in case Jack missed the import of the request, his main quest updated:

  Objective added: report to the king

  Which, of course, put the breakfast plan on hold. If Delling already had the spell he needed, he would eat dry jerky on the way back to Fox’s Crossing. So he asked the boy where he might find the king.

  “In the west wing, sir, with the council.”

  That sounded promising – the council had been assembling to craft the spell he needed, after all. “Excellent. But – how do I get there?”

  “I will be happy to show you the way, if you like?”

  Jack nodded. That sounded a lot better than running all over creation looking for his destination. “Lead on.”

  Berling did, taking him through some familiar passages, and some new ones. The same annoying conversations followed him as he went. An old man wondered if he’d heard “the news” about Wild Wegin. They moved on before Jack could find out what, or who, that might be.

  One woman wanted to know if he’d seen her ring. “The biggest emerald you’ve ever seen. I can’t think what I did with it.”

  A scullery maid begged his pardon for – well, Jack wasn’t quite sure what. It seemed she believed her presence to be some kind of affront. She popped out of a room, apologized, and popped back inside again until he passed.

  A well-dressed lady wondered if he was “here about Wild Wegin? I hear he got himself in a real sticky wicket this time.”

  And despite knowing better, he found himself itching to stop and ask questions. It’d be the start of some goofy side quest, he knew – something whacky and zany and fun. Something that didn’t mean life and death for him, that might feel like the RPG’s he loved to play. Something to remind him why he liked videogames – back when his future wasn’t on the line.

  But he did know better, so he hurried past the quest giver.

  Despite his diminutive stature, Berling moved at a quick pace. Jack barely kept up with him as they wound their way through the palace. The halls grew grander and grander the further they went, and so did the garments of the dwarves they passed. Then, abruptly, the boy drew to a halt before a set of huge wooden doors. “Here we are, sir: the council chambers.”

  Jack thanked the boy, who hustled off down the hall, and pushed through the doors. He found a massive chamber of marble on the other side. A long, gilded table sat in the center, surrounded by plush, gilded seats, and stout, comfortable dwarves. They all glanced up as Jack entered. A few nodded knowingly, a few rolled their eyes, and a few even threw up their hands in disgust. King Delling sat at the end of the table, and grimaced at the sight of him.

  Which, if he was being honest with himself, wasn’t the greatest sign. Still, Jack forced a half smile that he hoped would look approachable, and offered a half bow that he likewise trusted would be sufficiently respectful. “King Delling, you asked to see me?”

  The king nodded. “I did. First, I should introduce you to the greatest minds in the kingdom.” He gestured to the dwarves on his left: a sober-faced bunch, all clad in midnight black robes. “These are the Mages of Ivaldi, the greatest spellweavers in a hundred kingdoms. And these…” He gestured to the dwarves on his right: an equally sober column of men sporting blue tunics, emblazoned with a silver forge. “The Smiths of Ivaldi.”

  “The greatest smiths in a hundred kingdoms?” Jack guessed.

  “Exactly.” Delling shifted his focus to the dwarves. “And this, my friends, is – a human.”

  Jack’s eyebrow crept upward a hair, and not only at the lackluster introduction. No, he also noted the king’s unimpressed tone, and all the harrumphs and scowls turned his way. “The name’s Jack.”

  “Yes: he is called Jack. He apparently knows – knew – my son, Migli.” More harrumphs and grumbles sounded. But Delling turned his focus back to Jack. “We have met to discuss your news.”

  “Oh?”

  “We have observed much to corroborate your story.”

  “Wait…you mean…you haven’t actually cracked the spell yet? You’ve just spent this time figuring out if I was lying?”

  Delling nodded. “We have concluded that you are speaking the truth.”

  At that moment, the game alerted him:

  Objective complete: report to the king

  Jack stared at him. Then, he cleared his throat, determined to be tactful. He couldn’t risk another Lady Milia episode. It wouldn’t do to get thrown out of the dwarven kingdom itself on pains of death. But he was a little too flabbergasted to keep all of the ire out of his tone. “You know Kalbidor’s on his way, right? While you guys were sitting around talking, he’s getting closer and closer?”

  The king brushed this away with a wave of his hand. “Mighty are the walls of Delling, and mightier still his armies. Let the demon horde come. We will send out a thousand stouthearted dwarves. And if they fall, a thousand to replace them, and a thousand again.”

  “Lucky them.”

  Delling nodded. “Lucky are any who serve the heir of Ivaldi. So do not fret, Jack: we are safe behind these walls.”

  Jack gritted his teeth and forced the edge out of his tone. “So…did you call me here for any other reason, or just to tell me you’d decided the truth was the truth?” Wincing a little at the sharpness of that last bit, he added, “Your majesty.”

  “Of course not, Jack. We have decided your report is true. And we have determined that we must aid you.

  “But, in order to create the spell you need, we will need your assistance. Will you aid us, Jack?”

  He grimaced but nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Good. This is not delicate work. It’s not even skilled work. It requires nothing in the way of finesse or wit. So we cannot spare our men of skill and cunning. Not for something so trifling.”

  “Just spit it out,” Jack snapped. “Uh, Your Majesty. What do you need me to do?”

  “We need you to find some items for the workmen.”

  He groaned. “Of course you do.”

  “We’ll get you the list. You can probably find most of what we need at the local shops. As for the rest – well, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out. It should be straightforward enough.”

  A series of thoughts ran through his mind:

  Objective added: aid the dwarven council

  Objective added: find a blank dwarven spell scroll

  Objective added: find a black bone quill

  Objective added: find bundle of sage x 3

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  He found his companions as he left the palace. Or, more accurately, they found him – they just materialized as he crossed the threshold into the city.

  “Well, what’s on the agenda today, old bean?” Arath asked.

  “Where are we going, Jack?” Karag wondered.

  “We go now?” Grem’tha asked.

  “Free, free at last,” her brother celebrated.

  “No,” Jack explained glumly. “We’re not free. Not yet. I’ve got a bunch of runaround first. Gotta play errand boy for the king.”

  Grimlik hissed. “Stupid king.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me there.”

  “Bash him, good Jack should.” The goblin mimed delivering a savage blow and followed it up with a gleeful hiss. “Bash his brains. Then we be free.”

  “I might yet, Grimlik. I might yet.”

  “So what are we doing?” the ranger persisted. “And any chance we can hit the shops on the way?”

  Jack threw him an annoyed glance. “As it happens…that’s exactly where I’m going: the shops.”

  Arath grinned. “Then lead on, Friend Jack. Lead on. Let the commerce commence.”

  Karag grimaced, and so did Jack. But he focused on the mission. He vaguely remembered Varr pointing out the shop district during their last trip. It had been during one of those endless monologues, and he hadn’t paid much attention at the time. Now, he tried to retrace their steps until he spotted it.

  He
took the group down a few wrong turns first, but it didn’t take long to find the area he was looking for. The hustle and bustle of endless foot traffic drew them, and the call of vendors hawking their wares confirmed that they’d come the right way before they even saw the shops.

  As for the shops – well, they were endless. Or so they seemed, anyway. There were permanent stalls, and dwarves selling goods out of little carts and even baskets. Jack glanced by these vendors and kept walking until he found what he sought: regular, brick and mortar shops.

  He stopped at the first one he saw: a squat building with a wooden sign advertising alchemic ingredients for sale. That’d be a good place to find sage, he figured.

  Karag eyed the low doorway and shook his head. “I’ll wait out here, Jack.”

  “There’s a jeweler down that way,” Arath said, gesturing to a building down the road. “I’ll pop in there and meet you when you’re done.”

  The goblins clung to his legs, declaring that they would stick with him. So Jack nodded and pushed through the doors.

  He stepped into a brightly lit open floorplan, broken up only by shelving and displays. Herbs hung from the ceiling, bottles and vials lined the shelves, and crystals and charms dangled from rafters. A powerful earthy smell hit his nostrils with an almost physical force. It wasn’t bad, exactly. It was just – intense. Very intense.

  He hesitated a few steps in, until a sharp voice called, “What can I do you for, dearie?”

  Jack glanced around until he spotted the speaker – a gray-haired dwarf matron behind the counter, stooped and wizened with age. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m trying to find sage.”

  “Sage?” She cackled at that. “Performing exorcisms are we, dearie?”

  “Uh…no.”

  “Purging evil spirits?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so. To be honest, I don’t know why I need it.”

  She stared at him from underneath snow white brows. “You don’t know why you need it?”

  “No. It’s not for me. I’m picking it up for someone else.”

  “Ahh. So it’s your friend whose dealing with evil spirits, then?”

  “He’s definitely not my friend. But I think it’s something to do with demons.”

  “Demons?” She clapped bony hands together. “Oh, now you must tell me: what demons?”

  Jack scratched the back of his head, wondering if he should have kept his mouth shut. Too late for that now, I guess. “Kalbidor. He’s preparing an army – probably already prepared it, actually. We’re going to stop him.”

  “With sage? Oh dearie.” She shook her head. “You’re going to need more than sage to stop him. You should probably talk to Faust, or Shulg – they make fine weapons.”

  Jack decided against trying to explain himself. Instead, he assured her he would. “But I need sage too.”

  She looked a little skeptical but nodded. “Of course, dearie: as much as you need. It’s all yours.”

  Jack purchased exactly three bundles of sage, for thirty gold each. And he winced as his balance fell to a measly two hundred and fifty-three gold. Still, he’d checked one item off his list, and his objectives updated accordingly.

  Which left him with only two things left. Which isn’t that bad, actually. If the rest of his list proved half as easy, he’d be back at the palace in no time.

  So he asked the old woman, “I don’t suppose you’d know where I could find a blank spell scroll? Or a black bone quill.”

  The old crone’s eyes narrowed. “A black bone quill? Now why’d you be needing that, dearie?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. I was told to get one.”

  She passed a dry tongue over papery lips. “There’s only two kinds of people what want them: black mages, and fools. Which are you, then?”

  “Neither, I hope. I’m working with the black mages, though.”

  She shook her head. “Those fools don’t do business with me. Not in a decade. Not since me and their head – differed, over our methods.”

  Jack wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what those methods had been. He didn’t trust the king’s mages. Then again, he didn’t trust this old woman, either. She looked like the kind who would shove him into a cauldron as soon as look at him. So he avoided the topic. “I’m – kind of a freelancer.”

  “A what?”

  “They didn’t tell me how to get it, or where. They just told me to get it.”

  She grinned at that. “That so, dearie?”

  He nodded. “So, can you help me or not?”

  She licked her lips again. “Maybe, dearie. Maybe. It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether or not you can help an old woman in turn.”

  Naturally, it couldn’t have been as simple as walking into a shop and buying what he needed. No. The crone wanted him to collect something for her. “Just a few hearts and things, dearie. Then old Olksana will give you what you need.”

  She wanted the heart of a hart. Someone at Marshfield Studio had a sick sense of humor, he decided. She also needed a raven’s brains and a goat’s entrails. His quest log had updated accordingly with these new objectives.

  She’d patted his arm with bony fingers and told him he could find all of that in the caverns. “You’ll need to harvest them yourself, of course. But that shouldn’t be a problem for a big, strong lad like yourself.”

  As for the spell scroll, she couldn’t procure that. “But you might try Kagil’s shop, down the way. But I warn you – he’s a shifty one. Be on your guard.”

  And lest Jack have any thoughts of scouting elsewhere for a merchant who might not be shifty, the game added an objective to speak to Kagil.

  Then Olksana sent him on his way with a farewell. “Good day to you, dearie – you and your charming little friends. I’ll have what you need when you return.”

  Jack found Karag waiting for him outside the shop. Arath hadn’t returned yet, but he decided not to wait. He could meet up with the ranger before heading out of town on his hunting errand.

  Instead, he scouted the length of street for the merchant in question. He found him in a corner shop. A wooden sign depicting a dragon hung over the door, listing the shop’s name as “Kagil’s Magical Wares.” A sandwich board sign outside the door promised The best prices and selection in the kingdom.

  As before, the building proved too small to admit Karag. So he waited outside, and Jack entered, bracing himself for whatever kind of conman he’d encounter inside.

  The air was smokey and stale, and the lighting dim. A fire burned at an open hearth on the opposite side of the room, and an old woman in a shawl sat by it knitting, her back to the newcomer. A middle-aged dwarf in a workman’s apron bent over a worktable, fashioning – well, Jack wasn’t entirely certain what. It seemed to be some kind of contraption of metal and wood and gears.

  The man glanced up as the door struck a bell, signaling Jack’s arrival. “Ah, welcome traveler. You must be the human I’ve heard so much about.”

  “Probably. I doubt there are two of us.”

  “Actually, I heard there were: a rough fellow, a ranger I think. I reckon you’re not him. So you must be the other one, the adventurer.”

  “Oh, you’re thinking of Arath.” The dwarf stared blankly at him. “We traveled together, the ranger and I.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’m Jack.”

  “And I’m Kagil, son of Kugla, my mother here.” He gestured at the old woman. “She can’t hear you, I’m afraid. Not after the fever last spring. But she still makes the best magical wares this side of the gates. Probably, both sides.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s why I’m here, actually.”

  Kagil nodded briskly. “What are your magical needs, my friend? Let’s see if we have something on hand for you.”

  “I need a blank dwarven spell scroll.”

  Kagil frowned at that. “I haven’t had one of those commissioned in quite a while. Not since the black mages raised the creation fees on
mystical goods.

  “I mean, I can do it. But I’m afraid it’ll cost you.”

  Here it comes. “How much?”

  “Well, let’s see. I’ll need papyrus. That’s not much. But I’ll need holy water too, and a dove’s feather, and the tears of a wicked thing.” He calculated on his fingers for a moment, then shrugged. “With supplies and labor, I reckon it’ll be about 8,000 gold pieces.”

  Jack scoffed. “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem then. It’s only 7,747 more than I have.”

  Kagil frowned. “Well…I suppose if you brought me the supplies, I could charge you for labor alone.”

  “And how much would that be?”

  The dwarf considered, then shrugged. “For a traveler and a stranger? We’ll say 253 gold.”

  Jack blinked. “Really?”

  Kagil smiled. “You seem like you need it, friend. I’ll do what I can for you. But you’ll need to procure the supplies for me.”

  At the same time, the game alerted Jack:

  Objective added: pay Kagil 8,000 gold or bring him the supplies needed to create a spell scroll

  Objective added: find a papyrus scroll [optional]

  Objective added: find a vial of holy water [optional]

  Objective added: find a dove’s feather [optional]

  Objective added: find the tears of a wicked thing [optional]

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jack wasted the better part of the morning scoping out shops and merchants. He found a vendor who sold papyrus, which cost him fifty gold, and another who had the tears of a wicked thing bottled and available on her shelves – for just over fifteen hundred gold. Which was about thirteen hundred more than he had to his name.

  So then Jack followed Arath’s example, hawking what he left of his stolen baubles. They didn’t raise much of a price. When he’d cleared everything out, he only had seven hundred and eighty-four coins in his purse – still far short of what he needed for the tears alone. Plus, he had promised Kagil a fee for his labor, and he couldn’t be short when that came due.

  No, Jack decided, there was only one thing left for him to do: steal the ingredients he needed.