The Orc and His Harpy: A Fantasy Harem Adventure with LitRPG Elements by Callen Clearwater

Author:Callen Clearwater [Clearwater, Callen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Goatfish Press
Published: 2023-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

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I found the oatmeal bath easily enough—once I got to the north end of the basement, I could smell the heavy scent of porridge coming from the end of a carpeted hallway.

I made my way to the corner and peered around it, grateful that the lighting in this area was dim.

Back at the Fuzzy Watering Hole, Ichabod had told me that Farkas traveled with three bodyguards at all times. All three were standing outside the oatmeal bath. All of them about five and a half feet tall—enormous for goblins. My Scout’s Sight told me they were all Level 30 Street Brawlers. They wore leather armor and carried short swords and truncheons on their hips. Good weapons for fighting in enclosed spaces, of which Underside had a surplus. They also had black tattoos winding down their well-muscled forearms and along their necks. It took me a moment to realize the tattoos tracked their blood vessels.

Blackblood Gang. Black blood tattoos. Got it.

The fact that all three bodyguards were out here was good because it meant Farkas Finn was alone in the bath.

It was bad because I had to get past them.

I took a few moments to study the hallway, thinking.

One door. Three high level goblins. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Then I saw it. A little vent above the door. It was currently closed, but if I could open it and get a view of the room on the other side, I could Blink into it.

All of the goblins were standing with their backs to the vent, too. It was doable.

I could have Blinked to the ceiling behind them—the hallway was narrow enough that I could wedge myself in place. But I only had two Blinks left for the day, and I needed one of them to get past the vent. The last thing I wanted to do was go into that room without a Blink available for my exit—it was bad enough that I’d only had one left once I got in there.

Only one option, then. I was going to test the improved camouflage of my Shroud spell in a serious way. And the muffling quality of the boots Kerrigan made for me.

I took a moment to work a Shroud spell around my body.

I took another moment to quiet my racing heart.

I cast Shroud.

Then I sprinted down the hallway, counting out the four seconds before I’d become visible again.

One.

Halfway down the hallway.

Two.

Three feet from the goblins.

Three.

I leapt into the air and vaulted off the right wall, launching myself toward the ceiling above the bathhouse door.

Four.

My Shroud fell just as I got my hands and feet wedged against either wall, pinning myself in place above the goblins.

I froze, forcing every fiber in my body to take slow, silent breaths instead of the heaving gasps of air my lungs achingly desired. Slowly, very, very slowly, I turned my head to look down at the goblins.

The goblin in the middle—who my Scout’s Sight labeled as Unkas—scratched his ass. “Did either of you two hear something just now?”

“Yeah,” said the goblin to his left, whose name was Vikko.

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