Absalom’s Heretic: A GameLitLitRPG Quest (The Everlands Book 3) by J.D.L. Rosell

Author:J.D.L. Rosell [Rosell, J.D.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-28T22:00:00+00:00

13

The Mirror’s Truth

I stepped from the luscious green corridor of the Roots and into the gloomy, brown town of Urandal, with Hanil's promise that he'd keep the portal open until my return. The portal had opened near Isvalla's temple set above the town, so I had a good view of how the Fralishk had progressed since I'd last visited when I'd pulled them into my war. Despite the setback of hundreds of them being slaughtered, the old hag Helge seemed to be doing a decent job renovating the town. Several more two-story houses were in sight, and even a three-story, where I imagined the new Boss of the Fralishk had set up, and the streets looked at least halfway paved. It wasn't much of a looker still, and I doubted it ever would be, but it was progress.

Attendance to the temple, however, seemed to have fallen off completely. As I made my way toward the dark space between the grand double doors, the place looked even worse than the first time I'd come. The Fralishk clearly had no concept of sanctity; every available space in the courtyard had been used as a latrine. Holding my breath, I made a run for the entrance and stepped through, shivering at the transition.

Inside the temple was even worse. Now it was not only the entrance that kept things dark; no lights were lit within the chambers. Casting Magelight, I took a look around. Everywhere I saw negligence and disarray. Half-melted candles had been knocked off their candelabras. Statues of Isvalla lay on their sides on the altars. The ground was smeared with muddy footprints, and the place reeked of wet dog. Things seemed to have really gone downhill since I'd pulled Sarai away, but I was glad the priestess hadn't been pulled down as well.

I shook my head. Here I was, worrying about church cleanliness, while the greatest mystery I'd encountered in the Everlands — one that might spring me from this jail cell of a game — waited to be solved. Not about to waste any more time, I started forward.

Midway down the aisle, however, I heard the scuttle of claws entering the door behind me. Turning, I saw five silhouettes emerging from the portal into the pool of light cast by my spell and knew who had come.

"I wondered when you would come back," Mistress Helge said with satisfaction.

I groaned. The bowed Fralishk was adorned in bright red weavings, her long garments trailing behind her. Flanking her were four beefier Fralishk. Though nowhere near the size of Boss Kerak, they were enough to give me pause. As I suspected, they, too, had received a level boost:

Fralishk Beater (Lvl 35) - A well-practiced pugilist with fists, claws, and teeth. Fierce if he believes he has the upper-hand but will flee when facing an intimidating foe. "Fight, drink, or weave? It no matter, we fight after!"

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