A Black Market LitRPG

Paulie roared as he drove a cleaver into the wooden table, causing the cutlery to jump. The two forest bandits standing in front of him shivered slightly as the large man leaned back, the veins of fury clearly visible on his face.

The slaves to his left and right were not bothered at all, remaining completely still and silent as Paulie cursed and swore with every phrase he could find in his limited vocabulary.

“You’re telling me, that after three whole weeks of searching far and wide, you can’t find a single hair nor tail of the guy that killed Orthon and Troy?! ARE YOU EVEN A FOREST BANDIT?!” Paulie bellowed, chucking a glass against the wall which shattered brilliantly. A few of the glass pieces rebounded and cut into a slave’s skin, but she did not move a single inch, remaining passive.

“Boss, we really tried! The closest we could get to was Kris Greyborn, but the only thing we found was his bloodied cloak. No one in town seems to have heard of the guy before!”

“What about the three merchants who were with them? The driver?”

“They are all dead, they swore they did not know anything even under torture. I’m telling you, I think the rumours of it being a monster is –“

“SHUT UP! You know there is no such monster in the forest. We ARE the monsters of the forest. The goblins tremble at us!” Paulie slammed the table. He fumed for a while, before dismissing the two guys and pondering quietly.

Paulie wasn’t an independent boss – most of his work and hijacking came from information given by the Violet Demons in the West Sector of Raktor. He would receive a cargo list, and his boys would be posted on it as guards. The stick-up was supposed to be plain and simple: money or their life, and usually money always came through.

Sometimes the drivers would be more than happy to ‘give-up’ the cargo: they got a cut from the Violet Demons directly, and their employer wouldn’t be able to blame the drivers for the loss. It was an easy business, but having four of his men killed in what was supposed to be a simple nab and grab left a sour taste in Paulie’s mouth.

Is it the Veiled Angels pulling a fast one on us? Or are the new Inquisitors in town trying to get the two of us to clash harder? “You, bring me another glass,” Paulie ordered one of the slaves. He frowned and tried to consolidate the evidence he had now. Was the heat finally catching up to him?

Frustrated, he grabbed the new glass of mead served by the slave, drinking it down in one swift motion. The glass was already slightly jagged, cutting his lips slightly. “FUCK!” Paulie raged and slammed the glass onto the slave’s head, knocking her out onto the ground with a loud crack. Blood began to pool on the floor, but the remaining slaves didn’t react.

“You three, grab the body, clean and dump.”

The slaves complied, hauling the dead body out of the room while another slave desperately tried to mop up the dripping blood stains. “Fucking useless idiots, why did I even agree to buy you all from Vin? I should rough him up the next time his slave caravans come around.”

Suddenly, a loud bell could be heard ringing through the base. “What?! What’s going on?” Paulie demanded, with the slaves all shaking their heads in response. The bell was meant for an enemy attack, but it had not been rung in the five years they had been in operation.

Scrambling outside, Paulie could only see the dead bodies of watchtower scouts falling to the ground, three arrows lodged in their necks while their faces were frozen in shock. “Who, who is attacking us!”

“I don’t know, but they are hitting us from the treeline!” One of the bandits at the top of the wooden walls that surrounded the forest bandit’s base reported down to Paulie, before an arrow went straight through the bandit’s head, killing him instantly.

“GET TO COVER!” Paulie roared, running back into the room as a barrage of arrows flew over the walls, hitting indiscriminately. It was random, but the arrows lodged themselves everywhere – the storage sheds, the walls of houses. One even made it through the windows of Paulie’s house. He observed the arrow, noticing it was shoddily made, but the arrowhead was extremely sharp. Goblins? But why?

He quickly grabbed his armour set, crossbow and sword, along with a metal helmet. The remaining forest bandits were no slouches either, quickly responding to the death of their comrades and firing back into the treelines.

A few goblins were hit, their bodies visible to the forest bandits. “What? Why are the goblins attacking us, and since when were they so good at using a bow?”

“Doesn’t matter, they are all stinking rats anyway. Let’s show them who’s the boss of the forest!” Paulie galvanized his men with a rousing shout, leading the counterattack as he climbed up the walls, firing back with precision, killing a goblin with each bolt.

Another loud bang drew Paulie out of his momentum, causing him to turn and see a lone human at the wooden gate which had been smashed apart by a series of hammer strikes. The man wore a cloak, but his back clearly had the ornate crossbow that Orthon used to have. It’s him!

Paulie slapped the shoulders of the two closest guys. “Get that man, he’s the one inciting the goblin attack!” Already five forest bandits were aiming at him, shooting indiscriminately.

The man lifted his armguard, with green energy bolts flying out and deflecting the incoming arrows. Behind him, more than two dozen goblins wielding bows and swords rushed into the fort, climbing the walls and engaging the forest bandits in close combat.

With the goblin archers shooting from the top of the trees and the goblin warriors attacking from within, the forest bandits were pincered, forced to defend from the side and from the front as well. Paulie immediately recognized he was about to lose this fight, quickly grabbing one of the forest bandits and using him as a shield, as his body soon became a pincushion for arrows.

He ran back into his house, scrambling for his secret stash. I need to get out of here. If the Veiled Angels catch me, it would be all over! “You four, go block that door for me!”

The slaves followed the order, quickly carrying the furniture over to the door and blockading the door. Screams and shouts echoed in from outside as the remaining forest bandits began to waver, trying to flee.

Paulie soon managed to dig out his secret stash from under the floorboards, grabbing everything valuable when suddenly the cloaked man jumped in through the windows. Paulie grimaced, before waving wildly at the slaves. “What are all of you doing?! Kill that man!” If he were here to rescue the slaves, he would never hurt them. This is my chance!

The four female slaves grabbed anything that could act as a weapon nearby, charging at the cloaked man. Without a single breath of hesitation, the cloaked man wielded his hammer and immediately hit the front two slaves right on the head, killing them instantly, while using his free arm to punch the third in the face and sending her sprawling.

The last one did not even move an inch, already dead from a crossbow bolt fired by the cloaked man buried in her heart.

Paulie now knew he was done for – a true killer had arrived.

“Wait, wait, wait we can talk this out! What do you want? Are you an overseer from the Violet Demons? I’ve been following up on every payment, I’ve paid all my debt on time!” Paulie desperately waved with one hand, while his other hand reached for a sword on his waist.

“We can talk this out, right? Look, I’m open to switching sides. Veiled Angels? No problem, I’ll even take a lower cut!” Paulie tried to buy time as he inched closer to the back of the house, trying to feel the floor with his foot.

The cloaked man continued walking briskly towards him, his hammer on his right and crossbow pistol on the left. As he walked into attacking range, Paulie grinned and lunged forward with his sword drawn, charging with a forward stab.

This is My Turf.

but Paulie continued charging when he was suddenly forced back by an unknown force field around the cloaked man.

Paulie got up and tried to swing at the man, his sword bouncing off the invisible forcefield that seem to extend three meters in a radius around the cloaked man. “What the fuck?!” Paulie swung desperately, his sword continuously being deflected off as the cloaked man walked closer and closer to him.

“Who the fuck are you?! What do you want!?” Paulie backpedalled, his back against the wall now as he held the sword in front with both hands, the secret stash dropped to the floor. The cloaked man never stopped walking, continuously moving towards Paulie.

The forcefield began to touch the sword, the sheer resistance forcing Paulie to drop the sword as the skin on his palm was nearly shredded from the resulting friction. The invisible wall began to push up against Paulie, making him unable to move as he was pinned against the wall. The armour on his body began to creak as the cloaked man inched ever closer, as though he was trying to crush Paulie with all his might by simply stepping forward.

“Please, stop! I’ll give you everything you want! Jus-ARRGHHH” The cloaked man walked even closer, the forcefield squashing Paulie into the wall. The cloaked man also began to feel resistance from the forcefield, like he was pushing a steel block. He pushed forward, with his feet cracking against the wooden planks in the ground, causing splinters.

As he took the second and third steps, the meat was compacted, with the skeletal structure of Paulie snapped, twisted and deformed beyond its stress limit.

The skill effect ended, causing Paulie’s body to drop to the ground, blood oozing out of every orifice.

Kyle smiled to himself as he picked up the secret stash, wiping the blood off its wooden surface. The skill would be pretty good if it did not have a three hours cooldown.

The sounds of screaming and fighting soon came to a halt outside. Kyle left Paulie’s body in the house, returning outside where Gringer waited for him. “Sir, we have secured the fort!”

“Good. Call the others to transport all the food, equipment and all the human slaves back to the den. Use the wheelbarrows the forest bandits have. If there isn’t enough, make new ones.”

“Yes sir! Shall the human slaves be thrown into a mass grave too?” Gringer asked excitedly, obviously expecting some more juicy maggots.

“No, I have other plans for them.”

The disappointed Gringer moved as ordered, getting the remaining thirty-eight goblin warriors and archers to haul the food back. It took a few hours, but soon the entire fort had been picked clean, with Kyle nodding in satisfaction. Given the right training and command structure, goblins can be quite an effective workforce.

Returning to the goblin den, Kyle suddenly asked for Gulak to meet him independently. “Human! What is the meaning of all these human slaves? How can we feed more than fifty of them!?”

“Not important. And we have all the food stolen from the forest bandit.” Kyle dismissed his concerns, instead his eyes drawn towards the goblin’s runic tattoos on its body. He recalled how Gulak had attempted to disguise himself. Weird. Now that I think about it, these are arcia engravings, are they not?

Gulak instinctively shuddered. “No, I am not female! No breeding!”

Kyle’s face twitched slightly before he calmed himself down. “I’m interested in your tattoos. You can activate them like an arcia engraving?” He recalled the goblin champion healing himself.

“You are human; this is a goblin’s secret. Not allowed to tell!” Gulak crossed its arms, before Kyle suddenly grabbed his hammer, about to smack its head in. “Wait! I’ll tell!”

Gulak led him to a ritualistic chamber only approved for shamans or shamans-in-training. The ceiling was riddled with twine, from which hung countless pig skins that had been carved on. Kyle noted that each of them was a specific skill engraving, which he assumed was what the shamans learnt from.

A unique smell suddenly assaulted Kyle’s nose, reminding him of the arcia fuel packs he had seen in action around Raktor.

The chamber was filled with arcite embedded into the walls, some of it clearly already sapped of all its liquid arcia fuel. Kyle never expected the goblins to have access to such a vein of arcite. It was small, but still something valuable.

He was still weighing whether to monetize it or not when Gulak pointed to a ritual knife, engraved with enchantments too. Picking it up, the knife was extremely heavy, but obviously not made by goblins.

“Only goblins with achievements can receive the sacred symbols.” Gulak motioned to his hands, which were adorned with tattoos. “Any lesser goblin would faint or die from the pain.”

I was under the impression that engravings only worked on objects. Kyle’s eyes lit up. He had a previous plan for the human slaves, but that was not necessary any longer. The sinister expression on Kyle’s face frightened Gulak once more, reminding it of its previous experience.

“Does this work on humans?”

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