A Clan's Honor_A LitRPG Adventure by Riley Mercer

Author:Riley Mercer [Mercer, Riley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-04T22:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

“Yo, Paladin_67,” Magnus says once we step through the portal to Haara.

“Are you kidding?” I ask.

“You were Ronin before we went through,” the Troll tells me. “Now you’re just a generic old Paladin_67.”

Haara must technically be a Battle Arena if I, a Drafted player, have a generic name and look here. The island is as desolate as it looked on the map. No, it’s worse. On the map, I could pretend that the gray dot was just that. But here, there’s no denying what a hazard this place is, and why no one visits it.

Smoke rises from the peak of a jagged volcano, mixing with the low, polluted clouds above. The lone portal on the island spits us out onto a narrow trail that’s surrounded by dried lava rocks. The trail snakes up into a large cave entrance with a barred gate that, War_Delegate89 explains, can only be opened by the International Head Delegate. Even he’s useless to pry it open for us.

“But at least there are plenty of hiding spots here,” he finishes, as if eager to please VoiceofHonor.

“True,” the Orc says, stepping off the trail. His large boots crunch the lava rocks beneath his feet as he moves to make space as others struggle to find places to stand. He continues, anyway. “We have two hours before they’re set to arrive, if you’re right, so we had better stake out the area. Everyone, meet on that ridge. Including you, Paladin_67.” He grins at me and points to a flat area above us, one that will require a hard climb. Still, the space serves a good vantage point for us. The Delegates will have to emerge through this portal. From there, they will line up at the gate of the cave, waiting for the Head Delegate to let them in. 89 will have to stand with them to take the suspicion off himself. If he’s even a guy. All the War Delegates have the same booming voice that’s likely programmed. They’re even more anonymous than us Drafted players.

“Before we stake out the area,” Missus_Z says, “we need to cast Night Stealth, so the Delegates don’t detect us on our maps when they arrive.” She waves out two Dark Wizards in our small crowd, a Southern Human and a Dark Elf. “If anyone has Mana Potions, please donate them so the Dark Wizards can maintain the Spell.”

I find one in my inventory and hand it over to the Southern Human, a Level 62 Dark Wizard, who then tucks it into her black robe.

A question burns. “What’s my role in all of this?”

Missus_Z shoots me a warning glare. “As the only Drafted player, it’s to warn the rest of us if there’s a Battle Alert or a conflict resolution.” With a nod, she finishes putting me in my place.

“But while I’m here, I’m invisible to the system,” I say. My log hasn’t even told me I’ve entered a battle arena. But Missus_Z has already walked away.

I swallow, trying to hide my disappointment.

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