Soulstone: Oblivion: Soulstone, #3

By J. A. Cipriano

Save the girl. Beat the dungeon. Get epic loot. 
After a few minor setbacks, Aaron and Crash find themselves all alone in the World of Ruul with only one chance at survival, finding the legendary soulstones before the maelstrom's forces eat them and their friends. 
Worse, the only way to get strong enough to save their friends is to enter a dungeon no one's ever beaten before, defeat the four elemental bosses who reside inside, and shatter the massive statue trapping them inside. 
Sure, it might be impossible, but if it were easy, everyone would have done it, right? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: DDCO Publishing, LLC.
• Release date: Jul 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386754817

Book preview

1

She’d really left us. I couldn’t believe it. Dark Heart, the woman who’d dragged us all into this virtual world to fight or die — not to mention leaving us brains in a jar back in the real world — had just ditched us to find Wynn. The leader of the American Guild, the guy who’d put a massive bounty on my head. Who also happened to be her brother.

Crash let out a little moan and sank onto a nearby rock as Dark Heart sashayed her traitorous ass into the milling crowds of players around us and vanished from view. What are we going to do, Kahn? I thought we’d get to go home. For a minute there, I really thought… He broke off with a shuddering breath. But we’re screwed. I mean, totally, completely screwed.

I don’t know, but we’re not screwed, I said firmly, despite not believing my own words. We were probably screwed. With Dark Heart gone, and our barbarian Two’ Manchu kidnapped by Sabre, a psycho player who’d been turned into a statue sometime around 1983 and I’d accidently rescued, our party was down to me and Crash, the developer-turned-champion-gamer and battle priest who kind of sucked at battles. And being a priest.

What a bitch. Want me to go freeze her ass, boss?

And George, I amended silently as the voice drifted up from somewhere around my ankles. Nah, we’ll deal with her later, I told my talking rabbit. George was another accidental acquisition — when I’d been thrown into all of this, completely unprepared, I had no idea that players could tame pets until George became mine. And the black-and-white bunny had already proven his worth in battle, time and again. I reached down and skritched behind his ears, just because I was feeling the love. We’ve got more important things to worry about.

George’s back leg thumped happily in time with the ear-scratching. You mean like that price on your head?

Keep your voice down! Crash hissed at the rabbit. Are you trying to get us killed?

Nah. Maybe just you, George said, sticking his tongue out.

Hey, listen, we all need to get along right now. I stretched some of the kinks from my back and looked around slowly. We’d just arrived in the Town of the Golden Knight for the first time maybe ten minutes ago — at least, Crash and I had just arrived here. I’d learned from Sabre that Dark Heart had already been in the main world, even though we all thought she’d been stuck in the newbie town since we came here to the World of Ruul, like the rest of us. But she’d lied about that too, if only by omission.

This place looked almost exactly like the starter area, the Town of Silver Gables, except what had been silver there was gold here. Not far from where we stood was the town square, its huge marble fountain edged with gilt as it sprayed glittering, crystal clear water high into the air. Shops, taverns, and stands lined the cobblestone streets, but unlike Silver Gables, some of the shops here were run by players.

Speaking of players, there were a hell of a lot more here than in the starter town. They were the ones with their names hanging over their avatar’s heads in glowing letters — although some simply said Player. I assumed that word was over me too, since I’d hidden my name when I found out there was a bounty on my head and only my party members could see it. Hundreds of players were gathered here, male and female, most of them appearing human. But at least some had chosen non-human races for their avatars. I spotted a few orcs, a goblin or two, and a whole lot of pointy-eared elves.

Back in Silver Gables, our party was the only players I met, and everyone else had been NPCs. Still, I owed a lot to those NPCs. We never could’ve beaten the Skeleton King without them.

Now I had both the Skeleton King’s gear and a soulstone in my possession. The soulstone was the reason Wynn had placed a bounty on my head. There were eight of them, and winning this game required possessing all eight. We’d been charged with collecting all the soulstones in exchanges for having our brains inserted back into our bodies so we could continue being alive.

Except Ivan, the creepy guy who was supposed to be monitoring our fragmented selves, was dead. I’d seen him when I flashed back briefly to the real world at the end of my battle with the Skeleton King. When I’d died. I still couldn’t believe the Amulet of Courage had revived me like that, because otherwise it’d be all over right now.

Oh, yeah. Did I mention that if we died over here, we’d die for real?

We were definitely screwed.

Kahn? Crash was giving me a slightly annoyed look. Are you checking your stats or something?

No, but that’s a good idea. I don’t know—

Wait a sec. How about you answer me first?

I didn’t even realize he’d asked me a question. I’d been busy contemplating the general screwed-ness of our current situation. About what?

About finding something to eat. He looked a little embarrassed. I mean, how could I be thinking about food at a time like this, right? But my stamina’s way down, and I just … I don’t know. I really want to eat.

Actually, that sounded like a good idea. At least it was an active step we could take, while I tried to figure out what the hell to do now. I popped up my inventory window and winced at my diminished supply of Rhuvians. Only a few thousand left, when I’d had more than ten thousand before the Skeleton King’s attack on Silver Gables. I’d spent almost everything to fortify the town.

Elizabeth, what’s my stamina? I said.

My HUD responded in the voice of Elizabeth Hurley, as I’d programmed it to do. Your stamina is currently twenty-five percent.

Yeah, okay. Let’s find some food, I said, and looked down at George nestled contentedly against my leg. You hungry, George?

If you mean am I having visions of swimming around in a giant bowl of lettuce and carrots, then yes. I’m starving.

I held a hand out to Crash, and he took it and boosted himself to his feet. Don’t worry, man, I said. We’ll figure something out.

I wasn’t so sure we would, but for the moment I had to believe it.

As we started through the crowds of milling players, I couldn’t help thinking that everyone was staring at me. Even though I knew my name was hidden, I was convinced someone would realize who I was. Any second I’d hear, There he is! The guy with the soulstone! and they’d descend on me and take me to Wynn. Who was apparently level 70 to my level 15. He could probably kill me by blinking a few times or something. At least this was a safe zone and players couldn’t kill other players here.

But there were plenty of unsafe zones they could take me to. I definitely wasn’t ready to die yet.

Hey, Crash, I said quietly, narrowly avoiding a collision with a huge guy in chainmail who was busy talking up a redheaded elf chick. Mind if we look for a food stand with an NPC? I don’t think I want to talk to any players just yet.

Yeah, sure, but why … oh, right, he said with a glance above my head. He could still see my name since he was in my party, but he knew I’d hidden it from everyone else. Maybe I’d better do that too. Evanna, please hide my avatar’s name.

I raised an eyebrow. Who’s Evanna?

Er, he tilted his head away. Evanna Lynch. She was Luna Lovegood in the Harry Potter movies…

The weird blonde?

I think she’s cute. He coughed into a rolled hand. She’s Irish, you know. Her accent is super sexy.

Uh-huh, I said slowly, trying not to laugh. Big, burly Crash Overdrive, just as slick and muscle-bound in real life as his avatar here, was a Harry Potter fanboy.

Anyway. Look, there’s an NPC stand, Crash said quickly. Let’s hit it up.

We headed for the wooden stand with a hand-carved sign reading Janno’s Fine Comestibles. Behind the stand was a wizened old dwarf in a brown cloak seated on a stool, with random tufts of gray hair on his liver-spotted head and his equally liver-spotted hands folded over a cane topped with a blood red fist-sized gem. He smiled as we approached, revealing three or four crooked teeth clinging to his gums. Welcome to Janno’s, the finest fresh comestibles in all of Ruul, he wheezed, attempting a dramatic flourish. I’m Janno. What can I get for you fine young adventurers?

Um. We’d like some … comestibles, I said, trying to look around the stand for a menu or something. Behind the counter, there was an empty wooden cart, an empty wicker basket, and a tall stand with three sad-looking plain wooden staffs. I didn’t see anything resembling food. What do you have?

The old man’s gummy smile widened. That depends. What would you like?

A Big Mac and fries, Crash muttered.

I shook my head. Just your standard meals, I guess. Something nourishing?

Well, then. May I suggest our fine chicken dinners, Janno said. Everything an adventurer needs to keep his stamina up during his travels.

Yeah, that sounds good. Two chicken dinners, please. Oh, and how much?

One hundred Rhuvians each.

Oh, is that all? I muttered. The food was a lot cheaper back in Silver Gables. All right. We’ll take them, I said, and my short supply of Rhuvians got shorter.

Hey, you’re buying? Thanks, man, Crash said.

Next one’s on you, I told him.

Janno stood creakily from his stool, laid the cane aside and reached under the counter. He brought out two wooden plates, each with a pile of roasted chicken, a huge mound of mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh peas, and half-loaves of steaming, fluffy homemade bread. The food smelled incredible, and my mouth started watering instantly. Here you are, my fine adventurers.

Oh, yeah. Way better than a Big Mac, Crash said as he grabbed a plate.

As I reached for mine, George somehow made a throat-clearing sound and glared at me. I didn’t know rabbits could do that. Er. Any chance we could get a salad, too? I said.

Of course. Salads are fifty Rhuvians, please.

Done.

The Rhuvians vanished from my inventory, and Janno produced a big wooden bowl heaped with lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes. Would you like any salad dressing for that?

No, this is good. Thank you.

I took the bowl in my free hand and noticed Crash was staring at the rack of staffs. What are those? he said to Janno. Are they for sale?

Those? Why, they’re just some old staffs from the Valley of Sto Ryker. Dwarf-made, so of course they are of inferior quality.

Crash frowned. Inferior to what?

Elf-made staffs, of course, Janno said. Everyone knows that elves make the best staffs, and dwarves make the best battle axes.

Right. Of course. Crash looked uncertainly from the staffs to the old man. But, uh … how much for one of those?

Janno looked surprised. Do you really want one of those staffs, my young adventurer? he said. No one wants a dwarf-made staff, you know. Everyone knows they’re inferior.

Something in Janno’s gaze made me look closer at him. The words coming out of his mouth said one thing — that Crash would be a fool for wasting money on a staff. But his eyes said something completely different. They held a certain anticipation.

Crash must’ve picked up on it too. Yes, I really want one. How much?

For these inferior staffs, I will take twenty Rhuvians.

All right. It’s a deal.

After a moment, Janno nodded and creaked his way over to the rack. He appeared to deliberate, and then picked up the center staff and brought it back to Crash. I must say, young adventurer, I am impressed with you, he said. So few adventurers are willing to take risks, to go against the common beliefs. You have done so, and I believe you will be rewarded greatly.

Okay. Thanks, Crash said carefully as he took the staff.

You are most welcome. Please return your dishes when you’ve finished your meals, Janno said, flashing another wide, toothless grin. Those things don’t grow on trees, you know. He cackled as he settled back down onto his stool. Trees. Because they’re wooden dishes. Get it?

I actually laughed, and Crash joined me. Yeah, we get it. Thank you, Janno.

We carried the food across the cobblestone street to a common area with wooden tables, where a dozen or so players sat eating or talking. As we claimed an empty table, George hopped on to the seat next to me and stood on his hind legs, wrinkling his bunny nose at the salad just out of reach. Hey, boss. A little help here?

I picked him up and set him on the table by the bowl. How’s that?

You’re a prince, he said, and dove in.

Crash was busy staring at his newly acquired staff. You know, I probably got the wrong idea, he said gloomily. For a minute I thought Janno was hinting that this thing’s way more awesome than it looks, but it’s probably just a piece of junk, like he said.

I’m not so sure about that. Wanna find out?

Yes. He handed the staff eagerly over the table.

I took it and focused on the item. Identify.

---

Elemental Staff of King Murnath

Damage (Small Monsters): 5

Damage (Large Monsters): 5

Range: 50

Material: Aged Dwarven Knurlwood

Durability: 1000

Bonus: +15 damage against Water/Ice opponents

---

Wow, I said, handing the staff back to Crash as I quietly conveyed the stats. That’s one hell of an inferior weapon.

His eyes went wide, and he glanced across the road at Janno, who was still sitting calmly behind his booth with a vaguely pleased expression. That’s crazy. There has to be a catch or something, he said as he stored the staff in his inventory. I mean, he sold this for twenty Rhuvians? And why would he give it to me?

I don’t know. Maybe because no one else really pays attention to him? I said. I mean, you don’t see any of the other players lining up at his stand.

Yeah, maybe.

We ate our dinners, and as Crash was picking over the chicken bones on his plate looking for more meat, I said, We need to decide what we’re doing.

What do you mean?

I mean, all I know right now is a whole lot of stuff we can’t do. I heaved a breath. We’re both level 15. That’s nothing out here in the main world. We can’t try to rescue Two’ Manchu, because Sabre will crush us. I don’t believe for a second she’ll actually trade him for the … you know. I didn’t want to say soulstone out loud, in case anyone could overhear us. And we can’t stay here, because that Wynn guy is level 70 and the Chinese camp the place for newbies. We have to level up, and we can’t go back to Silver Gables because of the fifteen-level cap. So where are we supposed to go?

Crash furrowed his brow. How am I supposed to know?

You’re a developer! I reined in my shout to a low, harsh whisper. You have to know something about this world. Anything. Come on, man, think.

He scowled for a second, drummed his fingers on the table. I really don’t — wait a second. Do you remember that event we had last year, Oblivion Knights? The one with the crystal MCs?

Yeah, I think so. I had vague recollections of a one-off Titan Gate tournament back in the real world at last year’s World Championships, with a bunch of elemental stuff and rule variations. What about it?

It was based on a dungeon. We never really got a lot of information about it, but we were told that the monsters scale to the average party level and it was basically supposed to be a level-grind area. He looked off into the distance. Since it turned out they were basing Titan Gate on this place, the actual dungeon must be here somewhere. We could try to find it.

You know what, that sounds perfect. Except for the ‘try to find it’ part. Does that mean you don’t know where it is?

Of course I don’t, he said hotly. This is my first time outside Silver Gables, same as you. I have no idea where we are.

Okay. Chill, dude. Let’s think about this. I glanced around, half hoping for a map shop or something. Do you know what the place is called?

Yeah, it’s … hold on. He blinked a few times. We just called it the Elemental Dungeon for the event, but it had a different name in the notes. We changed it because it sounded too ominous. Oh, that’s it, he said, snapping his fingers. The Dungeon of Oblivion.

Oh, good. Sounds like a fun place, I said. Elizabeth, do you know anything about the Dungeon of Oblivion?

The Dungeon of Oblivion is an instanced dungeon located at the Caves of Despair, in the Kingdom of the Golden Knight, Elizabeth told me in her pleasant, sexy voice. Players who enter the dungeon must complete the quest and defeat all enemies, or remain trapped forever. Hence, the Dungeon of Oblivion.

Well, that sounded even worse. But if the monsters scaled to our level, then we should be able to beat the dungeon. Probably. I just wouldn’t tell Crash about that particular requirement yet, because he’d probably chicken out of going. Okay, so we have to find the Caves of Despair, I said.

George looked up from his nearly empty salad bowl at that. The Caves of Despair? Seriously?

Yeah, it’s not as bad as it sounds, I said. Let’s ask Janno if he knows how to get there.

How do you know it’s not as bad as it sounds? Crash muttered. But he stood with his plate and looked across the road at Janno. All right, let’s ask him.

We headed back to Janno’s Fine Comestibles, and the old man rose to greet us with a smile. Thank you for returning your plates, young adventurers. Your courtesy is much appreciated. And how do you like your new staff, my friend?

It’s great, Crash said, swallowing like he didn’t want to mention how great it really was.

I suppose it is, for such an inferior weapon. The look of anticipation was back in Janno’s eyes. Is there something else I can do for you today?

I hope so, I said. Any chance you know how to get to the Caves of Despair?

Indeed I do. Or at least, I can give you a way. For a small price of one hundred Rhuvians, I will sell you a single-use map to the Caves of Despair.

I managed not to groan. One hundred Rhuvians. You got it.

The coins vanished from my inventory, and Janno handed me a stained scroll tied with a bit of string. This map will lead you to your desired destination, but it will vanish once you reach it, he said. Oh, and be warned, my adventuring friends. The path to the Caves of Despair will lead you through a PVP zone. Watch for attacks from other players on the way.

Fantastic, I said as I accepted the scroll. I can’t wait.

2

As we made our way back to the town square, I transferred the map we’d bought from Janno to my inventory. Okay, Elizabeth. Tell me about the map.

The Destination Map reveals a path to a single destination for the user, my HUD responded pleasantly. To activate the map, input the destination.

All right, I said, calling the map to my active screen. A semi-transparent parchment unrolled itself in my peripheral vision where my stats typically appeared. Destination, the Caves of Despair.

Dark blue ink began to bleed onto the parchment, forming rough geographical features. A compass rose blossomed into existence in the bottom left corner. Words wrote themselves onto the map — the Town of the Golden Knight, Combat Canyon, the Plains of Solitude, and then the Caves of Despair. Finally, a dashed red line marched from the town through the canyon, across the plains, and into the caves.

The last thing to appear was a big red X at the end of the line.

What are you doing? Crash asked. Does the map work?

Yeah, it works.

It looked like we were supposed to leave town through the south gate. I started to turn, to look for landmarks or signs somewhere, and the map turned with me as a blinking green dot appeared at the center of town.

Sweet. It was interactive.

This way.

I led our diminished party toward the south gate, trying not to think too hard about going through Combat Canyon on the way to the Dungeon of Oblivion with nothing but me, a priest, and an ice rabbit. Maybe we wouldn’t run into any other players in the PVP zone.

Sure. And maybe Angelina Jolie would be waiting to welcome me back when and if I returned to the real world. Dressed as Lara Croft.

It was a good ten minutes before the south gate was in sight, and I realized this town wasn’t just fancier than Silver Gables had been, it was also a lot bigger. It made sense, really, considering how many players the world was currently supporting. I’d never expected so many.

Hey, Crash, I said as we approached the gate manned by two NPC guards. Any ideas about the current player population in here? Because this is crazy.

He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder, like he thought someone was following us. None whatsoever. I mean, I never imagined there’d be hundreds of people back home with their brains in jars, but I guess that’s not how the rest of them got here.

Yeah, apparently not. Sabre had talked about the government-sponsored program that sent her into the game back when Reagan was president, and from the way the first players we’d interacted with in this town talked, apparently a lot of countries had involved their governments in trying to fight the Maelstrom virus. I was more than a little jealous, since the government-sponsored players had whole bodies waiting for them — if they survived this place. Wish I knew how big this place really was.

Hey, don’t look at me, George piped up. I’d never been out of my nice, peaceful field before, until you happened to me.

"I happened to you? Am I really so bad?"

George smiled, as far as bunnies could’ve said to be smiling. I guess you don’t totally suck.

Wow, thanks.

I’m just kidding, boss.

I know you are.

The guards on the gate watched our approach with vague disinterest. When we reached them, the one on the left heaved a sigh and moved to open the gate.

Headed out to Combat Canyon, are you? he said.

Not really, I told him. We’re just passing through.

You hear that, Wayne? the guard said to his buddy. They’re just passing through. You know, going to spend some quality time in the Plains of Solitude. With their little bunny rabbit.

George snarled. Why, I oughta—

Easy, George. I didn’t really care what the guards thought, but it was a little weird that they’d bothered to comment. And they really didn’t have to insult George. What’s it to you where we’re going, anyway?

Wayne, the other guard, gave a derisive snort. It’s nothing to us. Right, Brady? You go out there and kill yourself a big pile of adventurers. I mean, who cares about saving Ruul when you can load up on loot?

Crash and I looked at each other. Saving Ruul?

You see what I mean? Adventurers these days, Brady said, giving another long-suffering sigh. All you newbies are the same. You don’t even care about the mission, you just want a ton of Rhuvians and all the gear you can steal from the corpses of your fellow adventurers. Back in the day, adventurers were real heroes.

That’s right, Wayne put in. Why, they’d walk uphill in the snow barefoot, both ways, to complete their quests. Never complained about not having cool gear, either. They worked with what they had, and they liked it.

Holy shit, who programmed these guys? My grandfather? Crash said under his breath.

Brady shook his head. Yes, those were the days.

Look, this is all really fascinating, but can we just go through, please? I said, hoping that good manners would score a few points with these guys. We don’t want to kill adventurers. I promise.

Brady looked skeptical, but he finished opening the gate and stepped back. I’ll tell you what, he said. "If you really manage to get through Combat Canyon without murdering any