Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) Keith Ahrens (best e reader for epub txt) đź“–
- Author: Keith Ahrens
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Three horses make their way slowly down the small trail. The wagons must have left tracks a blind man could follow. I sight down the barrel and wait for a clear shot.
“Thirax! Desmond! Caleb! We're back,” Haynes' voice echoes through the clearing. I lower the gun and de-cock the hammer. I stand up and turn around and let out a little yelp. I almost bumped right into Jesse. Wow, I never even heard him walk up behind me. He just stands there, calm as ever, looking at me.
“Aye, lad. Just making sure that iron didn't send any hot lead into our Sergeant,” he says with a sly smile as he nods to my pistol. At the same time, I can't help but notice the revolver held up in his left hand. He follows my gaze and spins the pistol once and smoothly holsters it. He walks past me with a friendly pat on the shoulder. What the hell? I really can't figure this guy out, and again, I'm reminded that he is probably insane. And dangerous. And now with more firepower.
We all regroup at the wagons. Haynes dismounts and hitches three horses to the closest wagon. Greetings get exchanged, and Haynes walks to the third horse.
“Thought y'all might be a bit hungry,” he says with a big smile. Reaching up and taking down the saddlebags, he pulls out several MREs and begins passing them around. Everyone grabs one and tears into them like the starving people we are. Haynes puts the rest of the food in the back of the wagon the horses are hitched to.
“Where did these come from?” asks Olivia, with just a hint of suspicion.
“Just get to eating, I got a few things to tell y'all,” replies Haynes.
“Hey. Anyone want to trade?” I ask as I stare down at a plate of cold chicken chunks. I get no takers, so I sigh and begin shoveling the food in as fast as I can chew.
A few minutes pass in silence as we all eat with gusto. Finally, Haynes breaks the silence.
“All right, folks. We discovered these MREs in a stockpile just inside a wooden lean-to about a half-mile down the trail. They were unguarded, but there were a lot of fresh tracks in and around the area. We also found the other wagon abandoned there near the trail marker of skulls on a rotten pole, by the way.”
He notices a few quizzical looks. “They marked the trailhead by mounting a few skulls on a rotten wooden pole fixed into the ground. Try to keep up, people. We saw multiple prints leading off into the woods. Too many for us to follow right then. The lean-to there is just a stockpile and staging area for forays into our world. Further down the trail, about a quarter-mile, is our objective—a fortified cave. It's heavily guarded by ogres and goblins with a stockade wall across the entrance. We need a plan to either try to fight our way through the guards or somehow get them to leave so we can get past that wall.”
“Well, ogres and their ilk are not that smart; we may be able to trick them away,” speculates Thorn.
“We don't have any fireballs left, correct?” I ask.
Haynes and Des shake their heads 'no.'
“Well, I for one, say we need to attack straight away, no more slinking about like the damn Rebs. We may suffer a few losses, but the rest will win the day and their freedom!” Jesse breaks in, eager and excited. The smile on his face makes me more than a little uneasy.
“Negative!” Olivia says sharply. “I'm not willing to sacrifice anyone else to these bastards! There’s got to be another way. A simple distraction, maybe pick them off in small groups instead of from behind fortified walls.”
“Nay, lassie, that'll take too long, we may have more elves chasing our tails! We'd be caught betwixt them and surely be killed,” argues Jesse.
“Hey, Jesse… you feeling all right?” asks Des, with a concerned look.
“Ha! Aye, my friend, better than I have in a good long while! I feel as if I'm awakening from a nightmare, what with our freedom so close at hand!” Jesse replies with a grin.
“Oh, yeah! I think we can all agree with that!” Grayson's deep voice is filled with mirth.
A few chuckles are the only response either receive to this.
“We're not home yet, folks, so stay focused. This is gonna be a tough road. Nightfall is approaching and the sun will be setting soon. I think it would be best if we camped here tonight and set out at dawn,” Sarge brings the mood back down a bit.
“Agreed, besides, the ogres and gobs seem to be more alert at night. Maybe we can catch them napping at sunrise,” replies Olivia. “Meanwhile, let’s set up two-person watches for the night so we don't get snuck up on again.”
“Sounds good. We can all try to think of some kind of plan for tomorrow. We may not have much in the way of info, but any ideas prove useful. Everyone get some rest, except for those on watch. Olivia, would you set up the schedule?”
“Not a problem.”
“We do have a problem, or rather, several problems…” Thorn says quietly, but loud enough to get everyone's attention. “My mentor and friend, Osmanthus Wylde, was killed before we could effect our escape.”
Silence meets this statement. Colt is the first to offer a condolence, “Ma'am, we're all really sorry to hear about your loss, but we've all lost a lot of people these past few years.”
“No, you don't understand. Osmanthus has—had connections in the mortal world. He could have found us allies and protected us from the vengeful Fey who could come after us,” she responds, tears evident in her voice.
“Once we're home, I don't think I want anything more
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