Dreadwar: A LitRPG Adventure (Badges of Dorkdom Book 3) Read online

  DREADWAR

  ©2022 THEO HODGES

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the authors.

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  Print and eBook formatting by Josh Hayes. Artwork provided by Luciano Fleitas.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.

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  also in series

  Dreadlord Wizard

  Dread Fortress

  Dreadwar

  contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Also in Series

  Thank you for reading Dreadwar

  From the Author

  Groups

  LitRPG

  one

  “We didn’t make it down the hill before he demolished the first bush,” Zusni said of Gren, the grumpy but lovable fey bear. “But our noses appreciated the heads up.”

  Their carriage approached a tree fort in the red pines near where they hoped King Ralorie waited. In the last two weeks, Crucible diligently trained his eyes to better use the Hunter enchantment on his warlock helmet. The level one enchantment still required practice to identify the difference in ley lines between natural objects and living beings. He honed that skill by searching the woods around the fort but didn’t see anything worse than a few deer and smaller animals.

  “So, anyway,” Zusni added when she’d finished chuckling. “That’s the story of how I got most of the fey back to our plane. Kendrick and Gren’s plan was to hire a boat and sail north to the island created when I struck the Liberty Bell.”

  Zusni had proven to be quite the entertainer with her tales of the year she spent prior to meeting his group at Crucivania.

  Crucible’s time, from their battle at Frostrider Stockade to activating all the remaining waypoints left by Xigor, had been full of reading the spellbooks left behind by the great sorcerer. They succeeded in closing the hot spots, though not without facing several platoons of orcs and voidwalkers.

  Now they could focus on rallying with King Ralorie’s troops to destroy the orc gate. With that removed from Sol, he could build up his forces on his way to creating the spire and taking the offensive against GkirGkir.

  Crucible felt mostly caught up now. He had so much learning to do. Not having Nuldreyin to help him with the more difficult Spellscript had compounded the stress of being behind. Every waypoint possessed Spellscript drop spots for him to translate while his group split up between defense and resource gathering.

  He’d waited to choose his next warlock and wizard skill until he met the king. Except it’d grown increasingly difficult because their battles with orc raiders, warlocks, riders and partials had nearly killed him several times. Still, he felt it wise to wait until he shared his plan with the king before choosing his ability upgrades. Thankfully no one in the council perished in their battles to recover the waypoints. The Roptier Forest allies and their kellzing class warriors, along with the wood and night elves proved invaluable.

  Kadush the dwarf stopped the carriage and Crucible’s dreadwolves took their preferred position outside the doors.

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” Crucible told Zusni. Her gaze back showed grief still had its barbs wrapped around her, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her from fighting to the finish. “He’ll be honored in our victory.”

  Zusni stepped out first. Crucible hopped out next onto his skates, riding the ley lines with more ease than a few weeks ago. In the month since he arrived to this realm, they’d entered winter. At least the snow patches were thin enough here to navigate through grass paths. He wondered how much more difficult it would be to ley skate through snow and the unexpected objects hiding underneath. Not that skating underwater to kill a dungeon core was easy. He just wasn’t excited about it.

  You complain too much. Did you listen at all to Zusni’s story?

  I did, he thought back as he curved around to the warhogs and his dwarf OG teammate, Fox. Any chance he could get, he’d skate, both for practice and the XP which went toward his warlock class.

  The door opened at the floor of the tree fort, and the ley lines shifted to add a second layer, cross-stitched at thirty degrees down from the original. What is that?

  I think it’s warlock flannel. You should make a shirt like that.

  I’m serious, Jerry.

  A figure emerged from the shadow inside, face draped in darkness from his hood, save for the rounded cheeks and thick neck. He looked left and right, then waved a hurried hand to come inside.

  At waypoint seven of seven, Xigor’s Spellscript unlocked this location on his compass. They’d sent word through Melelaia’s contacts to the king to meet them at the symbol for “MU” or Martin Undermaker’s “home.”

  “What’s our city motto?” Crucible asked.

  He who poops from the highest stair wins the girl.

  Shut it, Jerry.

  It should be. Just sayin’.

  “Worn with Honor,” the man said. “The king’s inside, but you’ve been followed, so please hurry. Did you bring the Spirit’s Eye?”

  Zusni had signed their letter to the king with that. He’d written back that he would postpone his meeting with the Queen of Agheimyma and their plan to trade for elsinth oil. The king wanted to give her the assurance that th
e deceased Diao’s mysterious partner was handled and not a threat to their deal.

  “She is,” Crucible said and skated toward the door.

  “Good. Fey Redeemer. Welcome.” He again waved them in hurriedly. “We’re preparing to storm the fortress. I hope you’re ready for a trip to the void.”

  Crucible didn’t think so, except their choices at the moment appeared one sided. He pushed down frantic thoughts in favor of learning more about why.

  Inside the warlock ley flannel, Crucible walked not into a tree house but through a trunk into a wide-open cabin with furnaces ablaze and Royal guards preparing equipment and loot from the chests along the walls. They bore the blue and brown Sol Badges and emblems on their shields.

  In the last month since he’d killed Diao, a split had formed between the Royal guard and those loyal to the king. Their message to King Ralorie warned him of a traitor working with Diao. Not long after, a coup aligned with orcs had tried to storm the castle. Since then, the king had been on the run.

  A half-elven monk matching the king’s description emerged from a doorway with lattice gold across his shoulders, bracers and at his belt buckle. It formed the shape of an elaborate tree with branches spreading out across his belt and up over his armor. He wore a loose cloak and had a mohawk of reddish-brown hair tied off in dreadlocks by golden bangles. His only weapons appeared to be a wooden staff with finely carved grooves and two knives on his hip. The staff had a knotted fist on the end and a sharpened point at the top. The curved blades gleamed purple, enchanted with secret power, and matching golden lacing along the bone handles. Sitting next to him was a rabbit, knee high, with glowing red eyes, a pair of knives for its front teeth and a white coat of fur that glimmered with enchantment.

  Ralorie offered a welcome, but tired smile. “Lord Crucible, welcome. Xigor has warned me of your coming. Though I’m afraid our path back to the castle will not be traditional or without great risk.”

  A screech issued from outside like a demon being ripped in half. And even though Crucible’s patron was an evil warlock who shared power through him, that noise crawled under his skin with a long tickle of terror.

  It’s ’cause you’re a wimp.

  Thanks.

  The king sighed and paused to lift a fist over his chest. “I’m glad you made it. Is our Orphan’s oath-taker here?”

  Footsteps sounded behind him.

  Zusni walked in behind his beautiful elvish girlfriend, Demy, followed by the shorter dwarves and the other two dragonborn, Emerald and Lia.

  “This is our group,” Crucible said. “Plus the two dreadwolves from Xigor and our warhogs. He told us to have them sniff a shirt at your castle to unlock the treasure we need to kill GkirGkir.”

  “Well met, Dreadlord, may your glory live on. Yes, Xigor came to me too. Unfortunately, we’ve lost the city. Good news is Xigor said GkirGkir’s abandoned fortress in the void has a warlock mirror that routes north of the wall at Castle Sol. It should also have a collection of catapults we’ll need to break back in.”

  Crucible thought of the fifth waypoint and the three Siege Works he built into the cover of druid camouflage. “We have twelve a week production scheduled at Lobee.”

  “Yes, we saw. And we’ll need those to hit the southern wall. I have scouts and two hexes per waypoint to help guard. They’ll relay our signal once we mirror past the northern wall.”

  “How’d they take the city?” Crucible asked.

  “Three orc divisions plus half my army and Shadow sleeper agents embedded in key positions among my staff—some I’ve known since babes. We’re on the precipice of something worse than the War of the Anvil.”

  The king spread his hand toward the chests. “Take whatever you need. I wish I could say we had time to—” another demon screech drowned him out as he said, “rest.”

  Crucible worked through the slight shiver and imagination of what could make such a sound.

  Should I tell ’em you’d rather just read?

  Shut it. I’m going out there.

  Boy, I’m convinced.

  The king handed him a robe. “This will protect you from GkirGkir while you’re in the void.”

  Rare Item gained:

  King’s Robe:

  +20 Magic Defense, +14 Attack Defense, +1 Weight, 10/10 Durability

  +Enchanted: Flame Shield II, Lightning Resistant II

  +MP Regen: 5 MP per ten minutes

  Invisibility to GkirGkir’s tracking spells

  Crucible slid into the loose-fitting cloth made of white fur and soft as a choice blanket. “Thanks! I’ve missed having a wizard’s robe.”

  The king winked. “That’s not all.” He produced a shimmering purple and blue scroll, and handed it to Crucible. “Courtesy of my Chief Magician, Spangler.”

  Greetings, Dreadlord Crucible,

  I hear you like to party with hurling molten lava grenades. Diao was responsible for my sister’s death. Thank you for avenging her where I couldn’t. From my grief over her loss, I’ve written this spell for you. I trust you will use it well.

  The message dissolved in luminescent yellow and orange embers. Purple dust absorbed into his hands and filled his muscles with a strange power. Foreign at first touch, it made its way into his blood and became one with Crucible’s soul.

  Chief Magician Spangler has granted you the Wizard spell, Volcano 2.

  Description: Grants magical shoulder cannon: Range: Propel Volcano stone up to 100 yards. Impact is 2x as great as Volcano 1

  Components: 20 MP to create Volcano Cannon. 9 MP per stone

  Duration: Cannon shoots ten stones per creation, then must be cast again

  Crucible smiled wide at the thought of creating and launching a Volcano Cannon. Demy had made him two mini notebooks with fifty pages each of parchments made from molten wood to add to his arsenal of fuel for the Volcano stones. He couldn’t wait to use them.

  This won’t end well.

  Oh, just you watch.

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “Do any of you need a blacksmith?” The king offered his hand to the room he’d come from. “Please, go quickly.”

  Crucible’s equipment was all over eight Durability. He took a handful of tinctures and potions from the chest and joined the group by the door in the other room.

  Birds with long necks and razor-toothed beaks divebombed them as they charged into the woods of a very different place. The trees looked like they raised claws, while ghost faces were drawn from the knots in the middle. All of his ley lines were 20% thicker.

  A dive-bombing bird appeared out of the trees. Crucible stumbled and almost fell backward. He lined up a four-inch section on a descending bird and Soul Ripped its chest open. It twisted away and a Royal guard sliced its head from its neck. The soul aura filled Crucible with warm power. He switched to his Wizard’s staff to charge a fireball.

  “Kaa!” A fanged buzzard dove off a bough.

  He barely had time to raise his staff before tapping the end in the baraka’s beak and blew its head off in an eruption of black feathers, chips of bone and brain.

  “Keep moving,” Ralorie said and slipped a hand behind the ear of a swooping baraka. He wrapped its neck around his arm and ripped it in two with a sudden power and grace expected from the legendary monk. “More will come the longer we stay.”

  Partials stalked out from the trees into the trail leading out from the cabin to the forest. Their eyes swirled with the power of the void. These were higher-level and equipped with thick leather armor free of the rot he’d seen in partials outside the void.

  They whispered invitations deep into Crucible’s mind. “Join us… in the bliss of silence and rest.”

  “Pilot,” Crucible ordered. Emerald led the group like the cowcatcher on the front of a train, sandwiched by Crucible’s dreadwolves. Sonic Scream forced the partials back. Her Fire Fists and long spiked tail opened a swath to escape. Zusni’s hurricane force combo of tail strikes and long sword slashes cleared the oth
er side.

  Emerald reached the head of their attack formation and jumped into a roundhouse. Her tail struck the lead partial’s forehead with a crack of bone loud enough to carry over the barakas’ screeching. Theirs wasn’t the epitome of terror elicited by the demon screech that echoed from the woods too deep to see. But it would soon make an appearance. Before it did, their job was to clear a path and keep running.

  Emerald’s landing transitioned to a jabbed Fire Fist into the creature’s heart. It burned through the leather armor and extinguished the power in its eyes. The two wolves galloping at her sides leapt at the next two partials, tackling them with neck bites and quick jerks to snap their necks. Zusni swung her enchanted paladin blade up through the throat of another and spun to plant it into the chest of the next one to step up.