Towering trouble a litrp.., p.75
Towering Trouble: A LitRPG Isekai, page 75
Fortunately, the bolt didn’t seem to affect their ability to stay airborne, and the trolls weren’t going to get any more lucky shots off. Their pursuers fell further and further behind, before finally disappearing behind the cloak of cloud cover.
“Surely those flying creatures could carry a troll between branches,” said Saskia.
Rover Dog tilted his head doubtfully. “Roptirs befuddled without branch beneath. Splat into trunk. Safer to climb.”
Interesting. There must be something about the branch that bat—roptir—brains depended on to orient themselves. Some fantasy equivalent of a magnetic field, perhaps, or the simple visual cue of a horizon to the east and west?
Saskia shivered, wondering how many trolls had made the attempt over the ages. A rare few might have succeeded. After all, there were trolls on Ciendil.
Using her minimap, Saskia guided them through the mist to a nearby sparsely populated spur. Zarie looked about ready to pass out as she landed the dragon in a sheltered little plateau halfway down the steep slope. The tempest was in no condition to do any more flying right now.
“Get some rest, guys,” said Saskia. “We should be fairly hard to spot down here, with the trees and cloud concealing us. I’ll wake you if I see anyone coming.”
The adorribles, who had already gotten plenty of sleep on the way here, emerged from their hidey holes and spilled out of the cabin. Watching them go, Zarie breathed a huge sigh of relief and curled up in the back, fast asleep the moment her head touched the floor. Saskia didn’t have the heart to tell her their little passengers weren’t going far, and would probably be back.
For the next few hours, Saskia stood guard over the others while they slept in the cabin, keeping an eye on her minimap at all times. There were only a few small houses on this spur, and the map markers in and around the buildings were grey, rather than the fiery hues that designated enemies.
At one point, the baby adorribles crept back inside the cabin, trailing icicles. They headed straight for Zarie’s sleeping form, clearly intending mischief. The tempest stirred and made a little mewling sound, as if sensing the impending rude awakening.
Bad floofies!
Saskia scooped them up before they could close the distance. As she did so, she felt a sharp jolt in her palm; a static shock on steroids. She staggered, and almost dropped them. Depositing the baby murderlings back outside with their parents, she eyed them suspiciously.
“What the hell was that?” she murmured, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake the others.
The only reply she received was a row of wide, innocent eyes.
It could have just been static. As if on cue, a sharp gust of air tickled her cheek. Maybe just the wind, but…
No. She knew quite well what she was looking at. These were baby tempests. They didn’t have foci, but they were still capable of some minor magic, apparently.
The shock hadn’t been enough to disrupt her oracle abilities, thank dogs. Just as well, that, or a dry carpet would have been her undoing.
A few hours later, Rover Dog took over from her, so she could get a bit of sleep. He didn’t have her minimap, but he knew this place and the trolls who lived here, so she reluctantly agreed.
When next she woke, darkness had fallen, and it was time to discuss their next move. Zarie and the dwarves wanted to hightail it away from the land of the angry flying trolls, but Saskia wasn’t ready to give up just yet
“I’d like to return to Pinnacle,” she told them. “If we land somewhere out of sight and approach the town on foot, we might get a more welcoming reception. What do you reckon, Rover Dog?”
“Sky trows not fight other trows. Not fight mer. Other squishies…” He titled his head, clearly uncertain.
“I can come with you, yes?” said Zarie. Her eyes were alight with curiosity.
Saskia shook her head. “Sorry, Zarie. Not yet. We’ll need you to stay with the dragon, and act as air support if things get…messy.” At the mer’s crestfallen expression, she added, “You could join us after we’ve scoped the place out—and made sure mer isn’t on the menu.”
Zarie inclined her head in agreement. “I will be ready.”
“Okay, great! Now drop me and Rover Dog off part way down the spur, beneath the cloud cover.”
They were about to take off when the adorribles all hopped back onboard and returned to their containers.
“We can leave them here, yes?” pleaded Zarie.
“In the middle of a trow queendom?” said Saskia. “That would be too cruel. The trows wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Zarie gave a little shudder, but didn’t voice further objections. Saskia gave the mer access to her minimap and darksight, so she could fly in the cloud-shrouded darkness.
“Now you be good, okay?” Saskia quietly told the adorribles as the dragon came in to land about two thirds of the way up the spur. “No zapping Zarie—or anyone else. If I hear you’ve caused trouble, we’ll leave you behind next time.”
The young adorribles looked suitably chagrined, though it was hard to tell if they truly understood her.
Dawn broke shortly after Saskia and Rover Dog set off up the slope. They bounded full-troll through the sparse trees, quickly finding their way onto a wide road beneath the gondola lines.
Emerging from the clouds, they passed several pale-skinned trolls, who paid little attention to them. Only as they neared the town at the crest of the spur did a trio of troll guards step out in front of them, speaking a language she didn’t understand. Rover Dog replied in the same tongue. The guards nodded and returned to their post.
“What did you say to them?” she asked.
“We hill trows, here for trade,” said Rover Dog.
“Hill trows? Is that what we are?”
“I not know,” said Rover Dog. “Hill trows look like us, but thinner skin.”
“Wait, I can see why my race may be a mystery, but what about you?”
“I not know,” he repeated.
She stared at him. “You really don’t know what race of trow you are? How can you not know?”
“I not remember,” said Rover Dog, offering her a trollish shrug.
Bewildered, Saskia shook her head. “That’s…odd. Maybe we’ll find something in our travels that’ll jog your memory.”
“Past not important,” he said.
“I beg to differ. Anyhow, could you speak to me in the sky trow tongue? I need to train my…oracle thing.”
He did so, and by the time they arrived in the outskirts of the town, she was speaking back to him in the same language. It had some similarities to the one he normally spoke, but it had a softer, more sibilant quality.
The first thing that struck her about Pinnacle (the town, not the spur that shared its name) was the sheer scale of it. It was a town of giants. Saskia had spent so much time among dwarves and elves, she’d almost gotten used to their tiny houses and tunnels. But here, even the smallest house would qualify as a dwarven mansion.
Sky trolls were an attractive bunch, as trolls went. Sure, most of them had lumpy white moles and hunched backs and spindly limbs, but they moved like dancers, and they seemed lively and cheerful. The working class wore mostly practical clothing—furs and leathers and close-fitting bodysuits. No dresses or baggy pants or open jackets. Such things didn’t fit well on a troll body, and claws tended to shred such loose, flimsy garments. She’d learned that the hard way. A few troll women wore barely anything at all—just loincloths and straps and bits of jewellery. These looked to be the wealthiest of the bunch, lounging about on the balconies of the most expansive houses.
As they walked the bustling streets, Saskia couldn’t help but notice the looks they were getting—or rather, Rover Dog was getting—particularly from the females. Their expressions betrayed more than mere curiosity.
Saskia gave her troll with benefits an appraising look. Was he that much of a hunk to these people? And maybe not just to these people. She’d found herself drawn to him—physically, at least—long before she finally admitted it and allowed him to…
A familiar flush was creeping across her face. Dogram—I mean—aargh, now he’s got me thinking about that again!
“So where’s the library?” she asked, in a desperate attempt to take her mind off such thoughts.
“Already told you, princess,” he said. “Overlook quarter. Far side of Pinnacle. Near dirigible landing pad.”
“Oh, right,” she said lamely.
They made their way through a wide plaza, filled with intoxicating smells and enticing sights. A male troll danced around a bonfire, nude and glistening with sweat, in front of a watchful throng of females—who immediately turned their eyes to Rover Dog as he strolled past. Sticks of meat and vegetables hung from the rafters of colourful stalls. Her mouth salivated at the sight of a cow-sized beast being turned slowly on a spit over a large cookfire.
Then she saw something that made her lose her appetite. Atop a wide stone platform, two male trolls were having an all-out brawl in front of a cheering crowd; slashing and biting, ripping and tearing. The fight ended abruptly when one of the trolls ripped his opponent’s forearm clean off, holding the gory appendage in the air like a club, and drawing a roar of approval from the onlookers.
Cringing, Saskia averted her gaze.
“Will grow back,” said Rover Dog.
Maybe so, but how quickly? Would he even have arlithite to accelerate his healing? Rover Dog had suggested only royalty had access to the stuff.
As they neared the edge of the plaza, a tall female troll in a see-through bodysuit stepped up to Rover Dog, her lips curled back in clear displeasure. “You dare show face in Pinnacle again!?”
Rover Dog’s gaze flicked down the length of her body, a confused grin etched on his face. “Have we met?”
Snarling, the troll jabbed at his stomach with a clawed hand, just missing him as he stepped nimbly backward. “Have we met!? Have we met!? You made a baby with me. Left without a word. Now you return and do not even remember!?”
Saskia tried to make herself small while the troll raged at a sheepish-looking Rover Dog. Part of her wanted to stick up for her friend. On the other hand, assuming the troll woman wasn’t making it all up, he probably deserved this.
Eventually the troll stormed off, and Rover Dog was left nursing more than a few scratches across his face and body.
Well, it could be worse, thought Saskia. She could have torn off his…arm.
The library was a boxy four-story building near the edge of the spur. Far from the majestic tower of learning she’d imagined, it could nevertheless hold a lot of books.
As they approached the door, a burly male troll stepped out in front of them. “Hill folk?” he said. “What need have you for a library? Can you even read?”
“I can read,” said Rover Dog.
“I will be able to read soon,” said Saskia.
The troll looked at her, confusion etched across his heavy brows.
“I teach prin—mate to read,” said Rover Dog, covering for her. “Library good place for learning.”
“Ah,” said the troll, stepping aside to allow them entry. “That is so. Enlightenment be upon you both.”
Inside the building, Saskia swallowed. Yup, there were a metric frocktonne of books. And this was just the first floor. There were three more like this.
“Any idea where we might find books on magic, worldseeds or arlium?” she asked.
“I ask lore guide,” said Rover Dog.
He approached a female troll sitting on a stool at the back of the chamber, her face deep in a huge tome. Saskia didn’t hear what they said, but the moment the troll laid eyes on him, she was giving him that hungry look Saskia had seen time and time again as they’d made their way through Pinnacle.
A few minutes later, after far too much giggling, the lore guide rose and stretched languorously. She stepped up to Saskia, and spoke in a voice that was surprisingly soft for a troll. “Magic section is this way.”
She led them to the third floor and down a long corridor, into a large room. Every wall—every surface of the room, it seemed, was covered in books and scrolls and sheets of parchment.
Humming softly to herself, the guide sifted through the chaotic stacks, picking out books seemingly at random, and placing them in a neat pile at Saskia’s feet. She seemed to be bending over far more than was strictly necessary, and waggling her butt in Rover Dog’s general direction. When she was done, the troll sent him one last smouldering look, and sashayed down the corridor. A silly grin spread across his face as he watched her go. Saskia had no idea trolls could walk like that.
“Yeesh, could she be any more obvious about it?” said Saskia.
“I not mind,” said Rover Dog, without a hint of shame.
“I bet you don’t,” she muttered, feeling half-amused, half-annoyed. The latter was probably unfair of her. He was, after all, a commitment-free zone. He could do as he pleased, and so could she. Hell, now that there were other trolls to choose from, maybe she would! Still, to see the effect he had on other trolls…it would take some getting used to.
With some apparent effort, Rover Dog turned his attention to the books.
“Read it before,” he said, tossing one of them aside. “Read this too. And this.” He frowned at another one. “Wrote this.”
“Wait…what? You wrote a book?”
He nodded. “I explore. Sometimes I document.”
“Let me see!”
He handed her the book. It was slender, but neatly written. The words were all gibberish to her, of course, having been transcribed in one of the troll languages she hadn’t read before. But after flicking through several other books, her oracle translator took the hint and began to work its magic.
Rover Dog’s book was titled Seeking Eternity. It was an account of a multi-year search for the mythical seed of eternity, a worldseed that was said to bestow eternal life on its children. He and several other trolls had travelled the length of Grongarg, before finally concluding that the seed of eternity had either been destroyed in some long-ago age, or had never existed to begin with.
This, he summarised to her verbally, because she didn’t have time to read the whole book right now. It was an interesting tale—and a fantasinating glimpse into Rover Dog’s life—but even if this so-called seed of eternity did exist, it wouldn’t help them solve their current problem.
Another book dealt with the nature of arlium, its strange temperature-dependent properties, and its relationship to the magic of the worldseeds. This one was too technical for her to understand, but it may relate to the metamagicians they were looking for. She’d have Kveld and Ruhildi take a look at it. Feeling a bit guilty, she gave it to Rover Dog to stow under his vest. They could always bring it back later.
The next book talked about the seed of frost, in southern Grongarg.
“Oh, now this is interesting,” she said, showing the book to Rover Dog. “Could this magic cool the arlium enough to seal the rifts?”
“I not know,” said the troll. “Long ago, I journeyed to seed of frost. Could not get near. All who tried…froze solid.”
“It seems like our best lead so far, though,” she said. “What if someone did find a way?”
The remaining books in the stack dealt with worldseeds Rover Dog had either visited or knew about from other sources. They had little to add. Before leaving the library, Saskia asked her oracle interface to highlight any other books that might be relevant to their search.
It revealed a scroll in another room, written not in the troll tongue, but the language of Old Ulugmir.
“I thought Abellion outlawed the use of this language,” she said.
“This Grongarg, not Ciendil,” said Rover Dog. “Arbordeus influence diminished here.”
The scroll looked like some sort of technical design. For what, she couldn’t say.
“Kveld is gonna have to take a look at this,” she said. “I can’t make head nor tail of it.”
They walked out of the library with books and scrolls safely hidden beneath clothing—and stopped dead. A large contingent of heavily-armed guards stood in a semicircle around the courtyard. Through their ranks stepped a female troll draped in jewellery—and nothing but jewellery. Beneath artfully-arranged strings of pearls and sapphires, her skin had the texture of polished marble—as smooth as Saskia’s had been after she clawed her way out of the deepworm.
“Queen Cloudtop,” said Rover Dog, dropping into a deep bow.
“You remember my title,” said the queen. “That is something, dear Rover. But do you remember my name?”
“How I forget?” said Rover Dog. “Queen’s name is Atka, Jewel of Skies.”
A smile flicked across her lips for the briefest instant. Then it was gone, replaced by an expression of simmering anger. “Then you must also remember the name of my daughter.”
Rover Dog took on a distinct deer-in-headlights look. “Queen has three daughters.”
Queen Atka’s expression darkened further. “You know which daughter you…” Her forehead scrunched up, and she let out three rapid-fire sneezes, echoing like gunshots across the library courtyard. The guards around her tensed, placing hands on the hilts of their scimitars. “Speak, Rover, or to the dungeon with you! What is her name?”
Rover Dog’s eyes darted from side to side, as if seeking a viable escape route. “Princess…”
Saskia tensed, preparing to make a dash for safety.
“…Vask.”
Oh. He wasn’t referring to her, but to an actual princess: Queen Atka’s daughter, Princess Vask.
“Do not play games with me. We both know Vask would never…” The queen’s voice faltered, and her eyes slowly widened. “Her too!?”
Rover Dog’s ears drooped. “I mean Espet. Princess Espet.”
The queen’s eyes blazed with incandescent fury. She opened her mouth to shout at him, but before she could speak, another sneezing fit overtook her.
“Princess Zue…?” said Rover Dog, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
