Table of Contents
TITLE
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements:
Author’s Note
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
A THOUSAND DRUNKEN MONKEYS
Book 2 in the HERO OF THERA series
Eric Nylund
Copyright
A THOUSAND DRUNKEN MONKEYS
Copyright © 2019 by Eric Nylund. All rights reserved.
First e-book edition: January 2019
Cover: SelfPubBookCovers.com/SFcovers
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. Please do not encourage piracy of copyrighted material in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to locales, events, business establishments, or an actual person—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
~To my family~
A small but merry band of adventurers are we.
Acknowledgements:
First, many thanks to my family for, as usual, putting up with the time away from them and the required authorial grumblings that go into any novel.
More thanks to…
Syne, my alpha reader, for saving me from grave embarrassment, and for the neverending writer-to-writer life support.
My beta readers, Fred, Stuart, Jerry & Gina—for their eagle eyes. You have all earned the “Ranger Editor” achievement.
My gaming buddies for their camaraderie and the countless hours of mirth and inspiration.
And my readers for your encouragement and patience over the years.
Author’s Note
Hi. It’s good to be with you again.
Two quick things.
First, following this note is a brief reminder of the people and events in the first novel as well as a “character sheet” for Hektor Saint-Savage. Some of you appreciate these things; however, if you’re not one of them, or if you’ve just read Hero of Thera—please skip this prologue and start at Chapter 1.
Second, many of you have given, or have read Hero of Thera to your kids. I’m honored. Thank you. While that first book in the series had its fair share of violence, it was mostly directed toward monsters. That changes a bit in A Thousand Drunken Monkeys as there is more violence on a human scale. Think of this as PG-13 content, the Gaming (ESRB) equivalent of “T” or the (PEGI) equivalent of 12+.
In any event, welcome back to Thera!
Pull up a stool, let me buy you a Silvercrest Ale, and I’ll tell you a story.
PROLOGUE
I play therefore I am.
Ego ludere ergo sum.
Yeah, I just mangled Descartes’ “I think therefore I am,” and possibly the Latin language. Sorry about that.
I am Hektor Saint-Savage, and I play a gypsy elf martial artist in the Game. I was formerly Hector Savage of Earth, Marine, ex-Death Row inmate, and life-long gamer.
What is this capital-G Game?
To explain, I have to go back to the beginning of… everything.
BANG! Let there be light!
Or whichever creation story you prefer; they all have a little bit of truth in them.
I’ll just stick to the one I know. Shortly after the Big Bang, as the first protons and neutrons cooled from the surrounding gluon-quark soup, the proud architects of Creation patted themselves on the back—then started to argue, and finally fight over who would run the thing.
Only after these gods, demon princes, and other super-entities of power had almost obliterated the multiverse, did it dawn upon them that maybe they needed a less destructive way to settle this issue.
That way was the Game.
The easiest way to think of the Game is as the biggest version of role-playing RISK ever.
With three crucial differences.
First, to run their Game, the gods begat an impartial Game Master. This GM makes and enforces the rules, and within its limited domain is more powerful than the gods who created it.
Second, the Game primarily plays out in the Kingdom of Thera. It is a magical realm with gateways to many other worlds and realities—the crossroads of the multiverse, if you will.
And third, the gods don’t play the Game themselves. They field clans of mortals to play (and die) for them. We players level up and complete quests to gain points. When one side gains a majority of the points in the Game, they win—everything.
Pretty straightforward, right?
Wrong.
In the twelve thousand years the Game has been running, no one side has ever come close to winning.
…Because it’s rigged by the Game Master.
How can the GM be an impartial referee in the Game and cheat? Simple. Impartial just means treating everyone equally, which he is doing—by equally cheating against all the gods.
The Game Master does this because he believes if one side won it would be… well, it’s hard to come up with a word that describes the genocide of most of the sentience in all Creation.
Imagine, for example, if some demon prince was victorious. They might transform all existence into their personal torture chamber. Even if a relatively benign entity won the Game, what do you think would happen to everyone ruled by the other gods?
Extinction on an unfathomable level—a quadrillion quadrillion souls snuffed.
No one (at least, no one sane) wants that.
I know this is a lot to digest, but contrary to what Einstein thought, the gods do indeed play with dice (metaphorically speaking).
How do I know all this?
Ah, good question.
I was originally recruited into the Game by some of those aforementioned demon princes (doing business as “The Lords of the Abyss”). Long story short: I escaped their diabolical clutches and went to work for the Game Master.
Now we’re trying to keep the Game spinning along without a winner, and give people like you and me a chance to simply stay alive and figure things out for ourselves.
Okay, that’s enough about the metaphysical details of the Game.
Let’s get to the juicy details.
I play a “Spirit Warrior,” the type of martial artist you might see in any good Hong Kong action flick—with a little
chi-powered battle magic added for good measure. Cool, huh?
My current STATS and abilities are:
Hektor Saint-Savage
Spirit Warrior / LEVEL 4
Clan: Hero of Thera
Race: Gypsy Elf
BODY: 11
STRENGTH: 3
REFLEX: 8
HEALTH: 120
MIND: 3
INTELLECT: 0
PERCEPTION: 3
SOUL: 6
EGO: 3
GHOST: 3
MANA: 60
Spirit Warrior Passive Abilities
Fists of Steel (tier 3; maximum): Hit armored opponents without damaging yourself. Bonus damage increases with STRENGTH and REFLEX. May strike creatures that normally require silver, iron, or magical weapons to hit—or are incorporeal, out-of-phase, or dimensionally shifted.
Spirit Armor: Chi-created forcefield aura. Increased armor based on your SOUL stat and LEVEL.
Spiritual Mana: Gain a mana pool based on your SOUL stat.
Wire Work (tier 1): Partially defy gravity in the tradition of martial arts movies.
Spirit Warrior Active Abilities
Perfect Motion (tier 3; maximum): Zen-like trance in which combat and move speed increase by 100% for 10 minutes. Cost: 20 mana.
Spiritual Regeneration (tier 2): Regain health = (two points + ability tier) multiplied by your SOUL stat. Cost: 10 mana.
Non-Combat Skills
Bargaining (5/30): Know fair prices, seasonal variations, and may gain bonus information on items. Sell goods for more. Buy them for less.
Ride (Animal) (3/30): Use animals as a means of conveyance.
Languages
English (4/30): North American dialect.
Tradespeak (4/30): Common Esperanto-like dialect.
Elven (4/30): Gypsy elf dialect.
Elven, Dwarven, Hobbit, and Gnomish (1/30).
Jal’Tek (3/30): Synthetic language used by Theran royals, courtiers, and spies.
Racial and Character-Specific Skills & Abilities
Night vision equivalent to that of a cat’s.
Immune to aging effects and spells.
Minor resistance to hostile magic.
Chance to detect dimensional portals within 100 feet.
Evolution (hands mutated by radioactive magic): +1 to REFLEX, ambidextrous, and an extra finger on each hand.
Charmed birthmark (4-leaf clover over heart): Effects unknown.
Achievements
The Hero’s Scar (aka The Fool’s Star): You have challenged a demigod-like entity and lived. This icon may be displayed on your player placard so others will recognize your exceptional toughness.
Taunting Tenor (achievement-acquired skill, no skill tier): If you overcome an opponent with your insults, they are forced to attack you for a period determined by the severity of those insults.
I had just advanced from a third- to a fourth-level Spirit Warrior. Actually, I have enough experience points to make fourth level, but haven’t yet officially committed to it. Once I do, I’ll have the following points to improve my STATS, skills, and abilities (or buy new ones):
Stat Points: 4
Combat Skill Points: 3
Non-Combat Skill Points: 27
Unassigned Starting Languages: 3
I still have to figure out the best combination of skills and classes to maximize my survivability in Thera—only then, will I spend those points. I’d been rushed through the character creation process, and every time I’d leveled up since it has been on the run or under pressure. It was time to take a breath and do this right for once.
I also needed to invest the loot from my recent adventures on a serious gear upgrade, and then spend some time with fine company and a wide selection of well-deserved ales.
Before the party begins, however, it’s probably best if I remind you what those “recent adventures” were and of the “fine company” I keep (a few of them are actually not-so-fine).
For my first quest in the Game, I had to stop a cultist from summoning some eldrich nightmare from the great beyond. This turned out to be part of a coordinated invasion of Thera, which my comrades and I ultimately thwarted by defeating an army of demons. I had a little help from a pair of evil artifact gauntlets, and almost lost my soul and sanity to the things in the process (but that’s another story).
One other adventure worth mentioning was when I broke the death curse of some barbarian ghosts. Every night for the last ten years, they’d had to fight a cabal of evil wizard spirits, neither side ever winning. I helped the barbarians finally defeat the wizards and as a reward, their leader, Karkanal Kayestral, told me of a martial artist among his tribesmen who would teach me a technique or two.
Or, in Game terms, I got this pop-up alert:
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED
“A THOUSAND DRUNKEN MONKEYS”
Find the old martial artist among the Far Field barbarian tribes.
Reward(s): Bonus experience and new bonus skill.
Suggested Party: N/A
Accept? YES / NO
When I get back to adventuring, that would go to the top of my to-do list.
Now, on to the “fine company” I mentioned.
First, there’s Morgana Nox, a player working for the Tricksters LLC clan. A former biology teacher from an alternate version of my Earth, she’s smart, beautiful, and a particularly resourceful multiclass druid-thief.
Next, there’s Sir Pendric Ragnivald, a non-player knight who’s sometimes fearless, sometimes timid, and also happens to be half Valkyrie. He was raised in Valhalla and trained by the greatest warriors in history. Alas, he decided he’d had enough “adventures” and left to wander alone for a time. He has… uh, personal issues to figure out.
Then, there’s Elmac, the geriatric non-player dwarven barkeep. He was once the Grand General of all the Armies of High Hill, so he’s a fearsome warrior despite his advanced years (and his equally fearsome thirst for large quantities of alcohol).
Although I’ve known them for only a few days—we’ve fought side-by-side, saved each other’s lives—and I consider them the best friends I’ve ever had in either of my incarnations.
Now, unfortunately, we come to the not-so-fine company I keep.
Colonel Sabella Delacroix is an elven solar sorceress and the head of High Hill’s secret police. She helped us defeat the demonic army, but she’s more of a lukewarm acquaintance than a friend. She’s snooty, terrifyingly powerful, and suspects that I had more to do with that demonic invasion than simply stopping it (and since the machinations of the gods, their players, and the Game Master were all tangled up in that event, she’s not wrong).
Since, however, the Duke of High Hill officially recognized me as a “hero who saved the day,” Colonel Delacroix can’t quite justify tossing me into her dungeon and extracting my secrets. For now.
And at the bottom of this list (where he belongs) is my brother, William “the Bloody” Savage. He’s a sixteenth-level anti-paladin player who works for the Lords of the Abyss, and was the guy leading that invading army of demons.
Every family has their black sheep; mine has a rabid dire wolf.
Bill is sitting in Colonel Delacroix’s dungeon right now having a nice long discussion without a lawyer.
If this all seems like a lot for my first few days in Thera… I completely agree.
I figured I had three, maybe four, weeks of rest coming.
Regrettably, like Odysseus, Faust, and a host of other heroes who irritated the gods or demon princes—my luck tended toward the worst side of bad.
So, my plans to eat, drink, and be merry were about to take a detour to murder, mayhem, and heartbreak.
Well, so it goes.
CHAPTER 1
A quest! Nothing stirs the blood of a gamer like a gallop through fog-shrouded woods with an accompanying soundtrack of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries or Metallica’s The Four Horsemen (take your pick of the classics). Beyond yonder misty mountain we’ll find a dragon’s
cavern filled with gold and a Princess or Prince desperate for their heroic rescue.
Unfortunately, the Game I play has no accompanying soundtrack.
Nor any eager-to-be-rescued princesses.
It’s messier, too… as in how was I supposed to keep raw sewage off my new troll-skin boots?
Alas, I was not galloping toward glory, riches, and my one true love. Tonight, I was in Low District—still wondrous High Hill, but the worst part of town, basically a place where tourists like me ended up on HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON? flyers.
I suspected every fantasy city had one of these places. When L. Frank Baum wrote of the Emerald City, I’d bet good silver that he omitted at least one alley filled with drunk munchkins pissing themselves. Stuff like that didn’t sit well with readers who like their heroes sparkling—their damsels virginal—and a big fat happy in their endings.
There were no working gas street lamps here, but countless stars twinkled overhead along with two Theran moons, the marmalade-colored orb called Guda, and keeping her company was her brother, the porcelain sickle, Asago.
Keeping me company tonight was my pal, the geriatric, cantankerous, and definitely un-luminous dwarf, Elmac Arguson.
We stood under the eave of an abandoned butcher shop. A faded sign showed dotted lines crisscrossing an ironically smiling cow.
Notices had been tacked to one wall, most torn with just bits remaining, like:
We enchant weapons
Guaranteed to remain potent for days…
and
Were-boar seeks companion for business opportunity
and long-term relation…
and
Missing: black cat
Shadow teleporting, answers to “Amberflaxus”…
or this one freshly plastered: