Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) by Keith Ahrens (books for 8th graders .txt) 📗

a huge damn chess match. Each side gets a few rounds to maneuver some squads about the arena, and then they take turns trying to kill each other’s army. Sometimes they throw fireballs into the front lines. Sometimes they just have us charge against one another and cut each other to fuckin’ pieces.” His voice is full of bitterness.

“How many of these battles have you guys been through?”

“Jesse, Des, and I have survived two wars between the Highborn Houses; the Gnolls have made it through five each. We lost Ken about six months ago to a bunch of ogres during the last Mortis Causa; he had made it through three before that. Fred hung himself the previous year, right after his first battle.” Both men fall quiet for a few minutes, remembering their fallen friends.

I wait, a thousand questions churning in my mind, but I’m not willing to intrude in their grief. A few minutes pass, and they both silently drift back to their pallets and go to sleep. The mood has gone through a drastic change by now, turning somber and morose. It seems the Q&A is over for the time being.

I lay there for a few more hours on the hard, splintery pallet, thinking. Could I really kill someone if it meant my own survival? Would I kill to protect any of these new friends? A part of me already knows the answers, but I don't want to hear them right now. Survival instincts are a powerful compulsion.

Every hour that passes, I hear the distinctive step, drag, step, drag gait of the jailer making his rounds. If I listen hard enough, I can make out the faint sound of other people crying in their cells. I try hard to ignore them and not sympathize.

6

The next several weeks or so go by pretty much the same. Time seems to meld into itself, and I lose track of the days. We are awoken each morning by a loud horn, followed by the ogres grunting and screaming at us. More crap food in the form of MREs gets chucked at us daily by 'the Three Stooges,' aka, our goblin benefactors riding the food wagon. Ironically, as bad as these meals are, there’s never quite enough of them. Low-level hunger is just a fact of daily life for us.

Get beaten up all day long on the training field and chained to a wall at night. Lather, rinse, repeat. No blankets or pillows, of course, and it's just cool enough in here to be uncomfortable and chilly all night. Des snores. Repeatedly and very loud. Yup, living the dream. It’s like the movie Groundhog Day but without the fun parts.

I haven’t mentioned the latrines, and I’m not going to. They are as nasty as you would think, and best not to dwell on that.

The training is getting more and more intense every day—no slacking here. Imagine the most dangerous cross-fit you can think of but done with a variety of sharp and deadly objects instead of kettlebells. Injuries are commonplace and expected. Luckily, after the early days of my initiation, I haven't garnered too many severe ones, saving me from enduring frequent visits from Thorn's comforting bedside manner.

On the plus side, by the end of the day, we're all too exhausted to really think about our shitty situation. Which, in retrospect, is probably part of the plan to keep us in line.

Oh, and every couple of days, someone gets killed. Usually in a 'training accident,’ but sometimes it happens at the hands of an overzealous guard. The jailer with the peg leg seems to get some sick enjoyment from beating the shit out of a helpless prisoner. Sometimes, he doesn't even bother inventing an imaginary offense, he just grabs the nearest one of us and goes to town with his club. Random beatings and looming death continue to be a daily factor around here.

Once I leveled up, I began practicing with a mace and shield instead of a sword, becoming more proficient with them as the days pass. I find it more effective for bashing through armor, as opposed to my lack of finesse with a sword. I have to say, it’s pretty cathartic smashing the shit out of things. As a backup, I’m also training with a spear and shield combo. As my levels continue to increase, new proficiency slots open up, and I fill them as quickly as I can, usually with a weapon or armor specialization. Each time my tattoo flashes, the numbers on my sheet increase a bit. I’ve almost caught up with the others, at least in fighting. I remember the higher the level one is seeking to attain, the more experience it takes to reach it. I'm hoping I can close the gap between us.

By now, my stats are looking pretty good:

Cell# K4644

Prisoner# 5925

Fighter

Name: Caleb Bastion

Race: Human

Class: Fighter

Level: 8

Attacks/Round: 2

Hit Points, Max: 108

Hit Points, Current: 10

Special Conditions: None

Strength: 16 (+3)

Constitution: 14 (+2)

Dexterity: 12 (+1)

Intelligence: 16 (+3)

Wisdom: 16 (+3)

Charisma: 12 (+1)

Saving Throws For:

Fortitude: +8 Reflexes: +3 Willpower: +5

Armor Class: Base) 10+1

Bonus Armor Proficiencies: All Light (+1 Dex), Medium (+1 Dex), and Heavy (+1 Dex)

Armor Class Total: 24

Armor Equipped: Helmet +1 A/C, Breastplate +6, Greaves +2 (both legs), Pauldrons/Gauntlets +2 (both arms/shoulders), +2 Round Shield (Heavy, Wooden)

Ranged Weapon Proficiencies: (None Equipped) Firearms, Specialized

Melee Weapon Proficiencies: +8/+3 (2) attacks/round

Unarmed Combat: +11/+6 (Level + Str.) /+3/+3(Str.)

Weapon Group: Maces/Hammers, Specialized, Focused

Mace, Iron: +12/+6 Attack: 1d8+4/1d8+4 Damage

Weapon Group: Shield, Specialized, Focused

Shield, Heavy: +12/+6 Attack/ 1d6+4/1d6+4 Damage

Misc. Weapon Proficiencies:

Spear: +11/+5 Attack: 1d8+3/1d8+3 Damage

Dagger: +11/+5 Attack: 1d8+3/1d8+3 Damage

Skills: Animal Handling 5, Profession (Medicine) 10, Driving 4, Swim 1, Sense Motive 5, Intimidate 4, Survival 6, Alertness 5, Toughness 3

Equipment Carried: None

Base Movement: 30 feet

Property of Lord Dullahan of Terram Caeruleum

Though I’m kinda happy to see such an improvement of my skills, the rest of me hates that this is happening at all. The skills I'm using in whatever this place is are the only ones that actually increase. I guess that's a reflection