Torpenhow Dreams, Level 3: Is Life a Game, and Are We but Players?

By Luke Parry

Something is rotten in the forest’s primeval heart.

Having barely survived the fog-shrouded horrors of his first successful crack at closing one of the ‘reality rifts’ threatening the continued existence of the world of Torpenhow, Will is looking forward to a period of relaxation.

Luckily, this time around, the rift that he has been sent to deal with is in quite a different location – in fact, it is at the heart of one of those fantasy-world staples: A dungeon!
However, the Old Forest of Glenmorgan is far from a ‘standard’ wilderness dungeon. Most dungeons are ancient, whilst this one appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and recently enough that it was almost within living memory. Moreover, it has idiosyncratic access conditions that make ‘delving’ a truly punishing trial. Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the local Adventurers’ Guild from running a thriving business supporting groups brave enough to extract resources from it.

Still ...
Rumours abound of a ‘green ghost’ that is occasionally glimpsed by groups that plumb the forest’s depths, and the deeper one goes, the stranger and more bizarre are the verdant lifeforms one encounters.
Why did the dungeon appear? Who is the ghost? What, precisely, is going on in the forest? Is it all connected to the rift? Will is going to need to gird his loins once more, and put his life on the line in order to find out. Fortunately, he still has a number of loyal friends who just might help him to survive long enough to learn the truth ...

The tale of a reluctant ‘hero’ in a world literally cracking apart at the seams continues in Volume 3 of Torpenhow Dreams!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Feb 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781922912398

Luke Parry

It's unclear whether he is a doctor moonlighting at being an author, or an author moonlighting at being a doctor, but Luke has been a dedicated bookworm (and incorrigible dreamer) for most of his life. Escapist fantasy has always held a certain appeal, and in recent years he has developed a voracious appetite for the isekai genre (in all its permutations). That said, whilst he might daydream about being 'summoned to another world', he is realistic enough to understand that his life expectancy would be approximately that of a botfly that found its way into an operating room, if something crazy like that actually happened. He shares a house in the nation's capital with a bearded dragon, and a tank full of tropical fish.

Book preview

Torpenhow Dreams

Level 3

Is life a game, and are we but players?

Luke Parry

This is an IndieMosh book

brought to you by MoshPit Publishing

an imprint of Mosher’s Business Support Pty Ltd

PO Box 4363

Penrith NSW 2750

https://www.indiemosh.com.au/

Copyright 2023 © Luke Parry

All rights reserved

Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author and publisher.

Disclaimer

This story is entirely a work of fiction.

No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional.

The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

Also by Luke Parry:

Torpenhow Dreams, Level 1

We are all but reflections of how others see us

Torpenhow Dreams, Level 2

Is humanity but a skin that is shed

like a snake’s?

PROLOGUE

The sound of combat resounded across the clearing, deep in a twilight-cloaked forest so thick it was essentially impassable. There, a party of four was locked in ferocious combat with a vaguely tiger-shaped plant, which a casual onlooker could be excused for mistaking for an animated topiary bush.

Holding the front line was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed human male clad in chainmail, who was wielding a heavy steel shield and an over-sized machete. He was fighting a predominantly defensive battle, keeping the plant-tiger’s attention firmly upon himself.

Of course, that also meant that all of its attacks came his way …

Gah!, he groaned, as one set of its claws raked across his shoulder, cutting through his armour and causing him to bleed profusely.

A woman with curly brown hair and grey eyes, clad in a white robe (although the muffled metallic noises every time she moved hinted that there was chain-armour of some kind beneath) chanted a spell, causing soothing golden light to envelop the injured man, quickly healing his wounds.

The man grinned broadly.

Thanks, Mary!

At the same time, a young man with bright red hair and green eyes, clad only in a simple brown robe and carrying a staff topped by a big chunk of pink amethyst, chanted his own spell, manifesting a small ball of fire from the tip of his staff. It shot across the battlefield like a bullet, slamming into the plant-tiger, where it charred vines and burned leaves to a crisp.

The plant-tiger, still smouldering slightly, lashed its vine-like tail angrily, and bared its thorn-like ‘teeth’ at the fire-using spellcaster … but then the warrior bashed his shield into the side of its head, causing the beast to turn its attention back to him.

Watch it with those fire attacks, Andy! You almost hit me, and you know how fire riles these things up!

"Honestly Robert, you know that I am a flame sorcerer; what else do you expect me to do?"

Hang back unless I really need the help! You know we need you to conserve your mana …

Andy grumbled.

"You weren’t saying the same thing to Mary a second ago when she healed you; it’s not like you were at death’s door, or anything, and we do have potions …"

Uh, well, that’s not the point …

Yes it is!

Unnoticed by the two who had been arguing, the party’s fourth member, a woman with long brown hair and green eyes (and a pair of fluffy brown rabbit ears poking incongruously out of the top of her head), clad in leather armour reinforced with thick studs of a heavy, iron-like wood, had entered the fray. Moving around to a flanking position on the plant-tiger, she had conjured a scimitar-like blade of flame, which she was wielding with no obvious discomfort.

Hey you two! Less bickering, more working! If we are seriously going to make a push for the Raid Boss of this zone series, we need to focus! There’s still plenty of battle to go!

So saying, she slashed into the creature with her flaming weapon like it was a side of beef, carving off a smouldering chunk of shrubbery.

Both male adventurers flashed her guilty looks.

Aww, Lizzie!

But Liz …

She glared at them.

What was that!

Andy and Robert blanched, and chorused:

Yes Ma’am!

Better! Now, keep up with the S.O.P. you two!

So saying, Elizabeth took another swing at the plant-tiger, slicing deep into its flank. Snarling, it turned to face her … and in response, Robert activated a skill.

There was no visible effect, but it caused Robert to emit an overwhelming aura of hostile intent, forcing the creature to shift its focus back to him again. This time, its attention stayed completely locked onto him.

After that, the battle progressed smoothly. Robert retained the plant’s undivided attention through a combination of keeping his aura up, and repeatedly bashing it in the face with his shield. Meanwhile, Elizabeth steadily hacked it to pieces with her burning blade, until nothing was left but a slowly smouldering pile of vegetable matter.

When all was said and done, the party had performed reasonably well. True, Robert was a bit scuffed up, but they had potions, and the mana usage had been within expected tolerance … more or less.

Elizabeth pulled out a heavy dagger, and began cutting away at the core of the plant-tiger, eventually extracting a golden yellow, semi-translucent, misshapen lump the size of a child’s fist.

Alright. We’ve got the core. Robert, you drink a potion, and the rest of us will power-up the tree-gate to the next zone. Andy? I believe it’s your turn to donate the extra mana share …

Her voice trailed off as something that none of them expected occurred: Over to one side of the clearing, a stone embedded into the trunk of a tree began to glow crimson, thanks to a dense network of spidery runic script across its surface … and a shimmering oval portal winked into existence.

Elizabeth frowned.

"What the Hell? Why the heck is the portal green? They’re supposed to be light blue! Everyone, keep your guard up! This is definitely not normal!"

Whilst the rest of the party scrambled to take up a defensive position, a woman suddenly raced through the strange portal.

She was of average height and build, but had pale green skin, hair like long pine needles, and bright yellow eyes. She had no obvious weapons, and was clad solely in a tank top and breeches woven from bark.

Elizabeth frowned.

Who are you, and how did you get here? I thought crossovers weren’t possible …?

The woman screeched to a halt, her eyes wide with fear.

You need to get out of here!

Before she could explain further, the reason for her wild flight became abundantly apparent when half-a-dozen creatures piled out of the portal she had so recently vacated.

Each was, broadly speaking, humanoid in outline. They had two arms, two legs, and a head, but seemed to have been formed by clumsily lashing together branches into a twisted mockery of the human form. Each also had a face, after a fashion, haphazardly carved into the lumps of wood that passed for their heads, with chunks of shiny obsidian for eyes. Each of them also held a cruel-looking obsidian axe in one hand, and a heavy wooden shield in the other.

Crying out in dismay, the green-skinned woman began running again, causing Elizabeth to click her tongue in annoyance.

Wait! Everyone knows that the gates are locked down during combat …

Elizabeth’s words died on her lips when, against all expectations, the woman called up another green portal on the opposite side of the zone, and the pursuing ‘warriors’ chased after her.

That might have been the end of it, but almost out of reflex, Robert threw up a , attracting the attention of the rearmost pair, who swung around to engage the party.

Elizabeth ground her teeth in frustration.

Seriously, Robert!? Why!? This was one battle we probably didn’t have to fight!

However, her annoyance quickly reverted to professionalism, especially when she saw that, somehow, their axe attacks, despite being blocked by Robert’s shield, were still steadily chipping away at his health.

Damn it! This one looks like it will be on-par with the Raid Boss in terms of difficulty. We can’t hold back. Let ‘em have it!

So saying, she conjured another , and moved to assist Robert.

Aww, yeah!

Literally getting fired up, Andy tried another spell.

One of the warriors immediately burst into flame, sending up a small cloud of thick smoke, and a surprisingly sweet scent. Still, despite being on fire, it showed no signs of stopping, so Andy, with a sour look on his face, kept spamming the same spell.

Meanwhile Elizabeth, with practiced efficiency, kept hacking away with her blade of flame, whilst Robert tried to keep the pair’s attention focused upon him, and Mary desperately cast healing spell after healing spell, frantically trying to replenish Robert’s steadily dwindling health pool.

Needless to say, they never did make it to the Raid Boss that day, but it was not a total loss. After all, the cores that they retrieved from the defeated warriors following a long, gruelling battle were on-par with what they would have expected to recover from the Tier 2 Boss they had originally planned to face … and they had a rather interesting story to tell when they got back to town …

CHAPTER 1:

Everyday Life in Another World

Will leaned back in his chair, his stomach groaning, and smiled in contentment.

I wouldn’t have credited it being possible when I first came to this world, but I am really starting to enjoy life here.

It had been a few months since Will had been summoned to the world of Torpenhow by a spellcaster who called himself ‘The Mirror Mage Who Watches’. He had been bound to a magical ‘Relic’ that took the form of a pair of gauntlets, and charged with the frankly absurd quest, to save the world by closing some ‘reality rifts’ that were slowly seeding it with chaos.

In all honesty, Will hadn’t really held out much hope for success – after all, his only ‘combat experience’ in his old life had been fighting the daily grind of the workplace. Even now, although he had become a bit more toned, his sparse frame could only be charitably called ‘scrappy’ rather than ‘muscular’.

Fortunately, he had been lucky enough to make some pretty amazing friends.

Firstly, Brighid O’Dubhda, an acrobatic knife master and self-described ‘fixer’ and ‘wealth reallocation expert’, who also happened to be a pretty gorgeous fox-folk; with fox ears poking up out of her thick red hair, and a bushy red-furred tail with a cream tip.

Of course, she also had a pretty wicked sense of humour, and frequently teased Will. When they had first met, she commented that he had the common sense of a stunned duckling. Since then, she had taken to using the nickname ‘Duckling’ for Will, as well as ordering duck-based dishes and items at every opportunity. (For example, at the high-end restaurant they were at this evening, she had ordered the ‘duck banquet’ – a five course meal that featured duck in everything but the dessert.)

The second companion that he had bumped into (quite literally in this case) was a lass named Orla. Although short by human standards (barely making it to five feet tall), she was exceedingly exotic, with skin like veined marble, hair akin to finely spun semi-translucent blue crystal, and eyes like chunks of faceted gemstone – one amethyst purple, the other emerald green.

Of course, when Will first met her, both her eyes had been like purple amethyst. The reason for the change was … complicated. After Will and Brighid rescued her from a minibus-sized albino solifugid that had been chasing her, Orla had insisted on taking them back to her people, who were pech – a race of shy earth sprites with a profound connection to the stone.

It turned out that Orla was actually a talented Geomancer, but Will only learned that after a wild party at the pech enclave, where he unwittingly underwent a Ritual that linked his mind, tangentially, to Orla’s. Apparently, among the pech it was often used as some­thing akin to a betrothal ceremony, but it was also used when a pech (like Orla) wished to travel into the outside world, since it allowed the two that were linked to share their languages.

The immediate manifestation of this was that one of Orla’s eyes had changed from purple to green. More recently, Will had noticed changes in his right eye as well; in fact, they had progressed to the point that his entire iris now appeared to be a ring of glittering purple amethyst …

Will also had a vague suspicion that Orla might have a slight crush on him, but his own feelings were rather confused. On the one hand, if his suspicions were correct, he was fairly certain that it was just ‘knight in shining armour syndrome’ (after all, he had almost literally snatched her from the jaws of death). On the other hand, he felt conflicted about the fact that, because the pech aging process slowed down upon reaching adolescence, despite looking and acting like a shy girl in her late teens, Orla was actually probably closer to fifty.

Still, Orla seemed to have taken to the surface world reasonably well, even if she occasionally struggled with the food (having come from a diet rich in mushrooms, fish, and insects, to one rich in red meat protein and root vegetables).

The final member of his party was both its most ‘normal’, and its oddest member.

Evelyn was technically human, although it would be more accurate to say that her component parts had come from at least five human women, based on the differences in skin tone and the circumferential scarring on her body. She was a heavily muscled woman of amazon-like proportions, covered in a dense network of runic tattoos that both fuelled and enhanced her abilities.

She was the result of the pet project of a long-gone mage’s obsession with creating the ‘perfect warrior’ to fight the corruption that was spreading across the surface of the world. Evelyn was an absurdly powerful melee combatant, but had several glaring flaws (although her creator seemed to have viewed than as features, rather than bugs).

Firstly, she had an extremely odd way of speaking, and did not express her emotions particularly well, coming across as more like a high-performance AI than a ‘normal’ person. She also had exactly zero shame, a fact that was painfully driven home to Will when he had tried to ‘fix’ one of her flaws, and it had backfired spectacularly: Evelyn’s higher cognitive functions were dependent upon regular cranking of a magical dynamo that was embedded in her chest, something which only her ‘designated user’ (which Will had inadvertently become) could do.

She was also capable of burning through this stored energy at an obscene rate to ‘supercharge’ her abilities for a brief period. One time, when she had done just that, and required an urgent ‘recharge’, Will had tried to break her core programming by gripping her hand, and using it to crank the dynamo. The resulting logic gate contradictions had rendered her practically catatonic, and afterwards, she had indeed shown far more independent thought and self-interest. Unfortunately for Will, that largely consisted of staying as close to him as possible, and proactively dealing with perceived threats that came his way … although as far as Will was concerned, her definition of ‘threat’ was a bit idiosyncratic.

Of course, the main reason for her hyper-fixation was that she found their ‘joint winding sessions’ incredibly stimulating, and was not shy about loudly expressing the fact, which caused Will no end of embarrassment, and frequent misunderstandings (many of which, Will was sure, were fanned by Brighid, who enjoyed ‘stirring the pot’, especially when it came to teasing Will).

As expected, at dinner this evening, Evelyn was seated next to Will, even though she didn’t eat anything. Indeed, thanks to the magic that sustained her, Evelyn had no need for food or sleep. (The latter was useful when it came to night watches, but Will had been creeped out more than a few times when he had woken in the morning to discover Evelyn staring fixedly at him from a few inches away.)

Of