Curselock: A Cursed LITRPG Adventure

After a trip to the bank, the boys spent the remainder of the day touring the city. As they ventured deeper toward the ruins of the Reflection Kingdom, slowly the buildings of Ruinsforth became more robust and set. Wooden structures took a back seat to the more strengthened older stone of the previous kingdom.

Instead of modern luxuries, these stone buildings were flat and short, only offering a small area for people to live. Some were homes, others shops or restaurants. Regardless there was an overbearing smugness to the architecture.

It wasn’t until the second time the boys were kicked out that Leland finally put two and two together. It was self-importance and arrogance. The closer to the Reflection Kingdom ruins, the older, more established a shop, its owner, and their family was. Why would a shopkeeper expecting to sell to nobles and highly renowned individuals give the boys a second glance? They were kids, and the stone brick of their buildings was ancient.

This was especially true when the boys found the city’s adventuring guild. It was… crowded. Even though expected , the boys still stumbled after turning the corner. The sight of the small building alone was enough to group while the sea of people wearing swords or walking through the air was enough for a call for retreat.

“Do we really need to go in there?” Jude asked after a woman with a scar through her eye purposely bumped into him.

“I don’t think so?” Glenny murmured. “We aren’t going to accept any quests for the time being, right? What else is there to do in the guild?”

“Drink?” Leland offered. “But we can do that anywhere.”

Just then, a guild attendant stalked through the building's door and walked through the toughened adventurers like they were nothing more than a light fog. Some challenged her authority, only to be crushed by an invisible weight. She then glared at those who felt they should interrupt, causing multiple to quickly sink into the anonymity of the crowd. The attendant then stood on a set of boxes, higher than anyone, not using magic to move above the crowd.

The attendant cleared her throat before shouting, “First ring seats for the Royal Dream are now sold out. We are now only selling the second through the fifth.”

She hopped down, sauntering back into the black stone building.

The crowd erupted as everyone pushed to get in the doors.

“Oh that explains it,” Jude yelled over the sudden influx of noise.

“Do we need seats?” Leland asked. “I assumed we’d just hang out with our parents during the ceremony.”

Glenny considered that. “They’ll be working… but they probably will be able to get us seats. So, let’s not worry about it.”

They soon left the guild courtyard, consciously walking away from the steady stream of adventurers trickling in. The streets suddenly went quiet, much to the glee of the boys. They joked and teased as they went, making conversation about the many, many shops they passed.

Ruinsforth bought and sold magical, rare, and unique artifacts and items as their main economy. With the ruins of the Reflection Kingdom, there was always a supply, and with the adventuring guild, there was always a demand. Idly Leland wondered if they could have gotten a better price for their items if they sold in a smaller shop.

It wasn’t worth it, he decided. Time and time again, the black stone shopkeepers ignored the boys when they entered or down right refused to allow them to look around. By the sixth time, Jude had finally had enough.

“What gives? Why can’t we shop here?” he asked, his tone like a red hot piece of steel.

The old man running the book shop snorted, returning his nose to the falling-apart book he had in his hands.

“We have money, if that's it!” Jude continued, pulling out a coin purse. He dumped the contents onto the counter, losing a dozen or so gold circles and double as many silver. “See?”

The man looked up and frowned. He gestured around the shop, silently giving permission to look. Jude smirked to himself, gathering his coin and motioning to Leland.

“Well, pick something. Anything at all. I’m paying.”

Glenny then muttered, “You are willing to buy Leland a book just to prove to the shopkeeper you were serious about spending money?”

Jude didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Leland wasn’t listening at this point, but he was sure he heard Glenny mention an “ego” or something or other. Instead, the Legacy of Curses scanned the shelves of books on books, finding many unfamiliar languages and symbols. He reached for one that caught his eye but a sharp pain extended across his fingertip. He pulled back, finding each cut and beading blood.

“No touching,” the shopkeeper then said, never raising his eyes from his reading. “Books here have a habit of giving papercuts.”

Jude spun with that, rage filling his cheeks, but Leland again didn’t care to listen. Instead he was focused on the man’s hand, specifically the tattoo of his Lord. An inky open book sat patiently on a podium, like the jumbled lettering on its pages were able to be read.

Leland recognized it as the Legacy of the Bookkeepers and quickly shifted away from the shelf. Weaponizing books for their own protection was one of the Bookkeepers’ specialties, and it was a specialty not to be trifled with.

Collecting himself, Leland patted down on Jude’s shoulder, silencing the big man. “It’s okay. Thanks for the defense.”

Jude frowned but mutely stepped away.

“Greeting Mr. Bookkeeper,” Leland then said to the man, holding out his hand. “I am looking for books or tomes with knowledge about these runic lettering. Do you have anything you are willing to let me part with?”

The man looked up, his glasses sliding down his long nose. Slowly, like a sloth stretching to a branch, he looked over Leland’s crow tattoo and the ink circle that surrounded it. There was no emotion in the man’s eyes except boredom and annoyance. Still, he flicked out his hand and summoned a book from his shelves.

It flew through the air at breakneck speeds, especially for a small shop. The man caught it, quickly flipping it open with a delicate hand. It was covered in unadorned leather, no design or border, only fading brown in color with a stamped “1” across its spine. The man flipped a few pages, read a few lines, then snapped the book closed. It quickly floated back to its spot on the shelf.

“It’s a summoning circle tattoo. Rare, old, and fallen out of favor,” the man announced. “That will be six gold.”

“Is that it? Do you know what it summons or what it needs for the ritual?” Leland quickly asked.

“No. And it’s a hand tattoo. There is no ritual,” then with a sigh, the man said, “It is also incomplete. It is still settling in your skin.”

“How long until it's done?”

The man stared at Leland. “That will be seven gold.”

“Answer the question, friend,” Jude warned from next to the door.

The man leaned around Leland, eyeing the berserker. With a sigh, he raised a hand and summoned another book. It whipped through the store, purposely flying near Jude and scaring him. The man caught it, showing off its metal inlay for a mere moment before flipping through its pages and reading.

“It is nearly complete. Would you like to know what it will summon?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Leland promptly replied.

“A weapon.” he snapped the book closed. “That will be eleven gold.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have a book that—”

“No.”

“What about the language of these runes? Do you know—”

“Ancient Script.”

Leland raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? I was tutored in Ancient Script and I do not recognize these symbols.”

The man sighed. “A youngling thinking they know all. How humorous.” He didn’t laugh. “That will be twelve gold.”

Jude groaned at that, stepping forward and dumping his purse again. He counted all the amount and slid them forward.

“Good doing business with you,” the man muttered, sweeping the gold into his hand.

“Yeah right,” Jude muttered back before stepping out of the shop.

The others quickly followed, and after a round of ranting, they resumed their adventure of the black stone shops.

At least, they would have, if not for a cloaked figure blocking their path. Glenny froze, finding he and the others isolated. Actually, when he looked around, he found the city street darker and colder than usual. The sky had dimmed, the noise from the adjacent alleyways was weak and distant.

Glenny was the first to realize what was going on. He took a single step forward, activating his Legacy abilities. His eyes turned to reptile slits, his reactions and senses honed. Slowly he produced a Sightless King forged crimson blade, allowing it to spark with unconfined raw power. The showing did little to enhance his strength, but rather he did it for hopeful intimidation.

From the distance the boys stood, Glenny recognized the shadowy figure ahead to be one they would not be able to win against.

“What do we do?” he whispered to the others.

They didn’t respond.

Glenny chanced a glance back, knowing the figure could attack at any moment. In fact, he expected the figure to attack. It was what he’d do after all.

He didn’t, however, expect Leland and Jude to be frozen in an opaque gray film. They stood motionless, smiles and joy still plastered on their faces. Instantly, Glenny spun, parrying an iron sword blade with his conjured daggers.

The figure hadn’t moved, it still sat, waiting in the shadows of the street. Glenny’s eyes traced down the iron sword, it was attached to nothing. No hands, no streams of mana, no invisible person.

Glenny pushed off, sending the sword reeling back. He stepped forward, hoping to keep the battle away from his frozen friends.

At the motion, however, two hands appeared gripping the sword. They were familiar, almost too familiar. Dark leather armor appeared next, tinted gray with hints of off-metal accents. Then the attacker’s chest formed, and the Legacy of the Chameleon shuddered a breath. The attacker’s head was next, coming to life with the same blaze of messy red hair as Glenny.

“What are you?” Glenny asked the being. Or rather, he asked his reflection.