Curselock: A Cursed LITRPG Adventure

“Elin.”

The woman jumped at Isobel’s voice, freezing like a statue made of ice, her hand stretched out with two gold coins slipped between her fingers. A beat passed, and she quickly curled her hand back, palming the coins as if they were never truly there. Mouthing “run,” to the merchant, Elin briefly glanced at the man’s naked upper lip. Something had changed… she just wasn’t sure what…

The man looked between the woman he was selling to and the woman approaching and promptly dragged his cart away.

“Isobel,” the Legacy of the First Druid said.

“Elin,” the Legacy of the Hunter replied.

“Isobel—”

“Can we not do this? I didn’t come here to—”

“To what? Punish me for a crime I didn’t commit. Again?”

“We both know you stole those enchanted boots from the armory. Even the Captain agreed with my findings even though there wasn’t enough evidence to execute you.”

Elin flinched. “You wouldn’t execute someone for stealing… would you?”

Isobel shrugged, adopting that pure sadistic smirk she wore like a badge of honor. “An enchanted pair of boots stolen right from the military’s armory in an active warzone with Witches as enemies all the while a hole to another world is open just a few miles away?” She purposely scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Elin’s skin had turned several shades lighter, the feeling of dread infiltrating her stomach. “I-I-I—”

“Yeah, yeah, save it.” She nodded to Leland. “That’s Leland. Your protection. And there—” Isobel stopped herself, not finding Glenny where he previously stood. “Well, that will be a surprise I guess.”

“M-my protection? Is the owner of those boots coming to kill me?”

“The owner of the boot—” she sighed, loudly. “No. The owner of those boots is Queen Palemarrow, and if she wanted you dead, Leland would be the assassin to do it. Trust me, they have that sort of relationship.”

Leland glared at Isobel. “That’s not—”

“It most definitely is. If Sybil asked you to kill someone, you’d do it.”

“No. I would investigate to figure out why she wanted me—”

“To kill someone, yes,” Isobel interrupted. “But then you’d realize that Sybil wouldn’t just ask you to do that without a good reason, then you’d do it anyway. You’d be a little royal assassin with little lovey-dovey eyes. Honor bound and also honor blind.”

Leland just stared.

“Um… so I’m not in trouble?” Elin asked, her voice scared like a kitten scolded for drinking too much milk.

Isobel turned to her, causing the woman to flinch. “Can you drop the scared little kid act? You’re not fooling anyone.”

Leland blinked. What act?

Elin’s timid face devolved, taking on a hardened glare. “What is this, Isobel? I thought we came to an understanding.”

She raised her hands, showing off her empty palms. “This isn’t me. Leland here has to protect you for some stupid L—”

Leland cleared her throat, nudging Isobel into silence. “Hello,” he then said to Elin, “I am Leland. I am here to protect you. Your Lord set up protection for you while you’re here. And here I am.”

The First Druid Legacy looked between him and Isobel. “Is this some sort of scam? Because I’m not giving those boots back.”

“I do not care about the boots.”

Leland shook his head. “Same for me. But I do ask that you stop trying to steal things while I’m around because that’s a surefire way to get people angry and after you.”

Elin’s jaw dropped, disbelieving. “Isobel, where did you find this kid?”

“Walking out of a dungeon with a Witch’s head in his hands.”

“No—” Leland snapped. He cooled himself. “I did not have his head in my hands. That’s ridiculous.”

Isobel rolled her eyes.

“Uh huh.” Elin inched away. “Right, okay, so. Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to walk away and, uh, forget this meeting ever happened.”

“No you’re not.”

The voice came from neither Isobel nor Leland. Forming from a gentle shimmer in the air, the body of Glenny appeared slightly translucently before fully materializing from invisibility. He stood behind Elin, cutting off her only exit… if she were to run.

Elin didn’t flinch this time, the lost little girl façade long gone, but she did look incredibly disturbed. Someone sneaking up behind her this close? That shouldn’t happen.

“Who are you?”

“Glenny, the best rogue in this dump.” He tossed a clipping of hair at her feet, a clipping that looked oddly similar to a certain merchant’s mustache.

This time Elin did flinch.

“Where are we going?” Elin asked, stepping up beside Leland because, strangely enough, he seemed the most normal out of Isobel and Glenny.

“To collect our other teammates,” he replied, sticking out his arm.

“What are—”

The words died in her mouth as a crow the size of a vulture dive bombed from the sky and casually landed on Leland’s arm.

“This is Zeke.”

Zeke cawed, taking off back into the sky.

“Riiiight…” Elin groaned. “Explain to me again, why are you protecting me?”

Leland sighed. “Because I said I would.”

“You don’t have some sort of hero complex, right? There must be something in it for you, otherwise you wouldn’t be—”

He held up a hand, stopping her. “I want to answer you. But that answer is both dangerous for you and me. So, I will remain silent.” His grimoire appeared and he read the contract’s page.

Cursed contract of the Lord of the First Druid:

Use: Gain access to the Shamanism spell, Wildfire.

Return: Protect the Legacy of the First Druid known as “Elin” until the threat at the Tear has ended.

“And if I really don’t want your protection?” she asked.

He stopped, locking eyes with her. “Look, I’m not going to get in your way. Whatever you want to do, fine. But if you do get in trouble, find me and I’ll do what I can. Also tell me if you are leaving the fort. I’ll send Zeke with you, and if there’s trouble, I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

“And how fast might that be? Because if I feel the need to call on you, I’m surely about to die.”

“Leland is faster than me,” Isobel helpfully added from behind.

Leland stared dumbfounded. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I’d still win if we fought against each other,” Isobel then added.

“I don’t know about that,” Glenny mentioned. “Leland took a full punch from that parasite and walked it off.”

There were quite a few details left out from that simple assessment, but Leland wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he looked back at Elin. “I’ll be there quickly and I can heal most wounds. As long as you are not dead, I can work with it. I think.”

She blinked. “You think?”

“Yup. Anyways, we’re here—”

A gathered crowd cut off his words, their cheering making all conversation impossible. The group stepped through, finding a familiar scene of broken pillars and victorious mages.

In the front was the newest winner of this competition, Gelo, her icy fur might as well have been a bright orange shirt in the sea of gray robes and brown leather armor.

Leland mentally reminded himself to upgrade his wardrobe.

Jude was there as well, the berserker hoisting the cub up into the air in celebration. They danced through a showering of gold coins, the losers of the betting pool tossing their losses at the duo. Even if they became bruised with the amount of coins thrown, they didn’t care! Sweet, sweet victory!

Behind them was the aftermath of Gelo’s magic – a pillar shattered into a million pieces, each piece covered in ice until it ballooned to the size of a brick. Ice and space magic.

Leland wanted to say he was surprised at the scene, but in reality, he wasn’t. What did surprise him, was that Jude Two was standing off to the side playing a little jig with his harmonica and nobody was questioning his sudden appearance.

“That’s them,” Leland said to Elin over the boos and cheers.

“The bear and the dude?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“What is with this day? How much worse could it get?” she muttered to herself.

A fresh report slid across the Captain’s desk. He snatched it before the attendant could even exit the room, reading it over without so much as blinking.

“Hold,” he snarled, freezing the room.

For a moment he breathed, accepting that this moment right here would set the course for the men and women at this bastion. They would either live or die, like their futures were on a blade’s edge just waiting for the avalanche of blood and guts to expel them from the wake of danger either safely or not…

He took another breath. He was never good at analogies.

And this situation didn’t call for one anyways. “Get that Vagrant Warden here stat.” He paused. “And the Huntress. And all of the team leaders, adventurers teams too.”

“Sir?” the attendant asked, the look of horror casting her face in dark, dark shadows.

“You heard me. War is here.”