Goblin summoner 02, p.1
Goblin Summoner - 02, page 1
part #2 of Goblin Summoner Series
Lichbane
A deckbuilding LitRPG
Tracy Gregory
P.W Hillard Fiction
Copyright © 01.07.2021 P.W Hillard Fiction
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Getcovers.com
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Goblin Summoner – The Rules
Chapter One
Gareth ran, his feet pounding against the cobbles. Things were not going his way that morning, the cold air chilling his bones, thin wispy fog rising from the street. He had to get back to the tavern as soon as he could, to tell the others what he had learnt. It had been a quiet few weeks in Wildermount, and excitement was exactly what Gareth needed. A sombre feeling had descended on the city after it had been besieged by the Republic, understandably so, the invading army and their summoned giant had come crashing through the walls. The combination of flying masonry and trampling feet had crushed dozens of homes and caused untold casualties despite the enemy force being driven off by a comparative handful of inexperienced duellists.
The enemy leader, a powerful card user with an angel affinity deck had been defeated by Gareth, with some assistance from Magda. The goddess turned mortal also used angels, but the creatures summoned by the Republic duellist had been far more powerful than anything she had to hand. Despite Gareth’s victory, there had been no glory from the win, no extolling of his name. Nobody had seen it, aside from a handful of Republic soldiers, and they had been cut down by reinforcements arriving from Seahaven. Gareth’s deed of heroism might as well not have happened, it wasn’t like anyone would believe him if he made the claim without evidence.
Heroism was something that percolated around Gareth’s mind on occasion. His arrival on Acamida—a world of magic and monsters—had not been an expected one. Gareth had died, his demise the result of a poorly made decision. Magda had taken pity on his soul, sending it down to Acamida to be reincarnated. She wasn't supposed to, her job was to search for souls worthy of becoming the gods' champion, a hero to save a world from something they called the Adversary. Knowing that he wasn't good enough, that normally he would have been tossed into oblivion, had angered Gareth. He had resolved to prove the gods wrong, that he was capable of becoming a great hero. It was petty, Gareth knew that, but upon learning the truth of reality, of what waited beyond death, he couldn’t help but feel that it was all wrong. Magda clearly agreed with him, her decision to save Gareth’s soul had come at the cost of her godhood. She had been cast down to Acamida in mortal form as punishment, something the mercurial goddess complained about constantly. That and her new body being significantly shorter than her old one.
Slowing himself to a jog, Gareth rounded a corner, the gateway to the lower tier appearing before him. Wildermount was an ancient city, one that rose up a mountain into the sky. It had been split into differing tiers, each level towards the mountains peak an advancement in society, the houses growing progressively more impressive until they reached the shimmering keep on the mountaintop. The tavern where Gareth’s party had taken up residence was on the lowest tier, technically the poorest part of the city only because the shantytown around the outer walls wasn’t strictly official. It was surprising how quickly it had sprung back up after being torn down to make space to defend the siege.
“Hey slow down!” came a cry from beside the gate. It was a familiar face, Mike was a guard captain, one in charge of the entire bottom tier and a regular patron in the Troll and Bridge, the inn that Gareth's party had taken up residence in. “Running about like that is dangerous.”
“Sorry, Mike,” Gareth said. The guard captain had an interest in Gareth, an unhealthy one if you asked Gareth’s opinion. He repeatedly claimed Gareth had something Mike called the glint, a look in the eye that brought trouble with it. As much as Gareth would hate to admit it, maybe the guard had a point. Since arriving in Acamida he had bounced from one dangerous situation to the next, delving into different dungeons, fighting monsters, even taking part in a battle. The last few weeks had been a nice break, but Gareth was itching to get back at it, even if it did mean more danger. Acamida was a world that rewarded struggle, a person’s connection to the magic around them presented as levels and experience points. Sitting around had meant no gain in experience and if Gareth wanted to prove himself a hero, he would need to grow stronger. Slowing his pace, he nodded to Mike and then absentmindedly opened his menu with a thought.
Level 16
Current Exp 498/1266
Skills
Mana Reserve - Increases available mana by one for every five ranks: 16 skill points
Deck Limit - Increases the maximum mana value of your deck. Increases five points for every two ranks: 6 skill points
Deck Size - Increases the maximum size of your deck. Increases by five cards for every two ranks: 5 skill points
Goblinkin - Increases attack and defence of Goblin affinity monsters. Adds ten to each rating for every five skill ranks: 5 skill points
Starting Hand Size - Increases the size of your starting hand. Add one card for every five ranks: 5 skill points
Feats
Strength in Numbers: Increases the attack and defence of monsters that match your affinity by fifty, provided only monsters of that type are present in your deck.
Recycle: You may discard one shield card to draw two cards.
Open the Reliquary: The first relic card used in a battle costs zero mana.
It was a lot to take in. Every duellist in Acamida had an affinity, a type of creature they were most aligned with. Cards with a matching affinity benefited from a discount in their mana cost, incentivizing people to specialise. Gareth had found himself saddled with goblins as his, a fact that drew mixtures of amusement and pity from others when they found out. Goblins were weak individually and not efficient for their mana cost but with careful choice of his skills and feats, Gareth had managed to enhance them to a reasonable level. It was something his deck leant into; plentiful cheap monsters enhanced by boosting relic cards. From what Gareth could gather goblins was a rare affinity, and the scorn for it was largely a self-fulfilling prophecy. Because it was considered bad, nobody had bothered to put the effort in to learn its nuances. He could hardly blame people for that, most duellists were nobles or at least had been before decks had started appearing in mass around Wildermount. One unlucky enough to find themselves with a goblin affinity likely simply shrugged and went back to their life of luxury rather than endangering themselves to improve. Gareth didn’t have that option, and he wondered if the sudden influx of new duellists would have a similar impact across other affinities. It seemed likely, the number of duellists in the kingdom had more than doubled, thanks to a phenomenon that was likely Magda's fault. When she had sent Gareth down to Acamida she had gifted him with a deck to increase his odds of survival and had probably been a touch heavy-handed with her divine gift.
For now, things had worked out, the extra duellists conscripted to defend the city when the Republic had attacked. They had invaded the west of the kingdom with the bulk of their forces, drawing away the Wildermount army. A small force had then landed at the coast to the south, sneaking past the Seahaven navy in merchant vessels and making haste to attack the capital. It would have been a fine plan if they had faced only the city guard as expected rather than a horde of summoned monsters.
Gareth wasn't an idiot, or at least he liked to think he wasn't. Ownership of a deck was required to tap into the magical power that ran through Acamida. That ability had been controlled by powerful noble families for centuries, but the new wave of duellists were almost entirely peasants. Upending the power dynamic in a society in such a drastic way would have consequences. Gareth suspected that the only reason it hadn't already was because the old guard had a significant level lead on the fresh recruits. Having a deck came with a massive increase in experience points earned. Gareth had been in Acamida for just a few days shy of two months and already he was at a higher level than most people could dream of achieving in a lifetime.
Exiting the gate, Gareth descended the steps down to the lowest level of the city. He found that he was out of breath a little, his eagerness to return robbing him of breath. The way that the streets of Wildermount were arranged made getting anywhere much longer than he would have liked. There was only one gateway between each tier, set at opposite ends to one another. It meant that passing between multiple tiers forced you to walk the entire length of each. It was more noticeable on the lower levels, the conical nature of the mountain shrinking the distance as you ascended. It was a logical layout, gates were a weak point in a wall by their very nature, and it forced an invading army to slowly work their way along the streets peppered by arrows and spells if they wanted to reach the next one. It was of course noticeably less useful if the enemy summoned a giant angel to smash directly through them as the Republic had done.
Piles of rubble were still strewn throughout the streets, the rebuilding efforts well underway. Patching the hole in the outer wall had been the first priority, just in case the Republic decided they were going to ignore the treaty they had signed. Rebuilding the line of crushed houses that trailed from where the hole had been to the next wall was slower going. Gareth couldn't help but notice that some of the houses that bordered the destruction had suddenly grown outhouses or ramshackle extensions that stretched out into the gap. He had to admire the audacity of the land grab that was occurring.
“Out for an early morning stroll, are we?” A figure emerged from the mist, a hood pulled over their head, their hands tucked into the pockets of their trousers. On their belt was a deck box, the tell-tale sign of a duellist.
“Something like that, Jack.” The man who had appeared before Gareth was a familiar face. Their first meeting had been an adversarial one, Jack using his newfound power as a duellist to rob people on the road leading to Wildermount. During the siege, Jack had given Gareth a relic that had allowed him to defeat the Republic's duellist and since then their relationship had become one of quiet rivalry rather than outright antagonism. “Just grabbing some breakfast.” Gareth raised his left hand, a paper bag clutched within. The bottom of the bag was stained with grease.
“Fair enough. There used to be a good place round here. Used to be.” Jack gestured towards the nearest rubble pile. “We’ll rebuild though. We’re tough down here at the bottom.”
“Can’t rob places if there’s no places to rob, after all.”
“Very funny. I’m all legit now, you know that. Got my guild card and everything. Besides, never really much money in banditry. Not like you can catch nobs without guards. Turns out there’s much better money being a duellist. Plenty of work to go around, especially considering, well, all this.” Jack pointed at the outer wall. “Siege riled up the undercity plenty.”
Wildermount was an ancient place, settlements existing on the mountain for thousands of years. New buildings had been built atop the ruins of the old, forming a large network of dilapidated tunnels that burrowed into the rock beneath. It was a dangerous place, one sealed off from the surface to prevent the monsters within from running rampant through the streets, though some escaped on occasion. Just before the siege the Duellist's Guild, the governing body that managed card users, sent the new wave of recruits down into its depths, taking advantage of their bolstered numbers to clear out what they could. There was still plenty of creatures down there, and it wasn't surprising the sound of battle on the surface had disturbed the unstable ecology further.
“Yeah, I’ve heard. My party is taking a break for a bit,” Gareth said. “Getting our feet under us. We’re new to Wildermount, after all.” The decision to take a few weeks break had been made partly because three-thirds of the party were newcomers to the world, counting Sarkuran. Despite having ruled an empire on Acamida a thousand years ago, the former demon king had been sealed away. From his perspective, he had been cast into an unfamiliar future.
Acamida was close enough to Earth that Gareth wasn't totally lost. Sure, it had magic, monsters, and differing races, but people were people. The same kind of taboos and norms, good and bad, were common. There were a few things that were different, opening your menu in the presence of another person was considered rude, and there were a dozen different temples operating under what seemed to be one religion. Gareth had visited every temple in the city, dragged there by Magda as she tried to unravel the mystery of why one of them seemed dedicated to her. Her role in the cosmic hierarchy had been to judge souls, not interact with worlds directly, and she was a relatively young goddess. Certainly not one that should have a following.
“Makes sense, but you’re missing out on a ton of coin though. Looks like you’ll need it too.” Jack nodded towards a slip of paper clutched alongside the steaming bag. He smiled, his face twisting into a kind of wicked smirk. “Hopefully I’ll see you there. I’ve got a few new tricks I would love to show you.”
***
Gareth slapped the piece of paper down onto the table and received only confused looks in return. He sighed and dropped the warm bag next to it, the top torn open and the contents eagerly removed by his friends sat opposite him.
“What’s that?” Magda said, chewing on one of the hot bacon rolls that had been sitting in the bag. She touched the slip of paper, smearing a line of grease atop it.
“What do you mean what’s this? You can read, can’t you?” Gareth knew the answer, but he couldn't resist a chance to annoy Magda.
“Of course, I can read! Or at least I can if I’m not dying from hunger. What took you so long?”
“You’re the one that wanted breakfast from a specific café on the second tier! You could have gotten one from nearby.” Gareth sighed; it was partly his fault for actually agreeing. The Troll and Bridge served food, but only after midday. That was understandable, it had only a tiny staff and its busiest period was at night.
A hand stretched out across the table, its skin pale aside from the dark green scales that snuck out from beneath their owner's cuff. It belonged to Imelda, the only member of the party who was a local. She belonged to a race known as wyrmkin, a people who looked mostly human aside from the large horns growing out from the side of her head and the thick clusters of scales that stretched up the sides of her neck. Gareth had asked once how far down the scales went and had gotten a slap to the face for his trouble.
“Is this that tournament you’re so excited about?” Imelda said, dragging the paper closer to her.
“Sure is! They’ve opened up registration, we should sign up.”
“Why, exactly?” Imelda’s emerald eyes were dancing across the sheet of paper.
“The experience points? The possibility of winning some money? For fun? All of those things. Remember when we were doing formal duels in that field, winning those matches was worth a lot of experience points. If we join this tournament, we’ll get good experience and not have to put our lives on the line. It’s win-win.” Gareth snatched the bag off the table and removed the last remaining roll. Its bread felt soggy, having suffered the worst from the grease building up at the bottom of the bag. “We can’t justify missing out.”
“He’s got a rather astute point,” Sarkuran said. The demon king had remained quiet as he ate his roll, considering talking whilst eating to be uncouth. “We do need to increase our level if we ever intended to return to…what was, Magda.” Sarkuran flicked his ashen hair out his eyes. It had been black when he had emerged from his crystal but had shifted colour when the last of his demonic power had been used saving Imelda from beneath the rubble of the outer wall. A lone horn poked through the mop of hair, so the party had passed him off as a wyrmkin. Wildermount society was notably human-centric, other races using decks considered impossible before Magda's mistake. The majority of humans didn't know enough about wyrmkin to know otherwise, all they saw was the horn.
“See,” Gareth said. “Sarkuran agrees.” He knew what his comrade was getting at. The demon king revealed his form had come from being higher level, his release from the crystal setting him back to level one. It was something Gareth had seen in person. He was certain the tips of his ears were starting to develop a very slight point to them.
“I wonder if he’ll change his tune once he sees this.” Imelda slid the paper to her left, tapping at the bottom for emphasis.
