Thunderplump: An Epic Fantasy LitRPG Adventure, page 1
THUNDERPLUMP
The Completionist Chronicles Book Eleven
DAKOTA KROUT
Copyright © 2023 by Dakota Krout
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Newsletter
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
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue
Afterword
About Dakota Krout
About Mountaindale Press
Mountaindale Press Titles
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Wow. The 11th book in a series. My wife Danielle deserves a medal for her saintly patience with my relentless typing.
My fans--my friends--you get a wild round of applause for your unwavering faith in my ability to keep you smiling, and to my Patreons Lilly Hawk, Garrett Griffin-Morales, and Mike Rylander.
Thanks for helping me to keep plumping the thunder.
NEWSLETTER
Don’t miss out on future releases! Sign up for my newsletter to stay up to date. And as always, thank you for your support! You are the reason I’m able to bring these stories to life.
PROLOGUE
He had been hoping for this moment, the honor of being the first of his brethren to hunt down creatures from the summer lands. There was no other reason the Mythical World Boss himself would reach out to alter the path Brisingr had been set to roam.
Hours passed as he waited with the patience of a glacier for additional instructions to be offered to him, his anticipation shown by managing to take two entire steps during that time. He had traversed dozens upon dozens of miles of the frigid land where frost and ice had held dominion for millennia—ever since they had last driven beings from the summer lands out.
“I hear. I obey.” Only when the attention of his sovereign turned away did the giant’s features, intricate carvings beneath layers of glaciers and packed snow, begin to break into what could be interpreted as a smile. It was a terrible, cataclysmic grin showcasing the abject, insane glee he was feeling at the moment.
“This. This is it. Finally, after enduring with the persistence of winter’s long freeze, I, Brisingr, will be able to freeze out my brothers. I shall take the position of first disciple for myself.”
As his feet came together, steadying his stance, the ground around him for hundreds of miles began to quake. With a deep inhale that caused tornadoes and hurricanes to form across the continent, he prepared his words. For one moment, there was abject calm, then his deep, resounding bellow reverberated across over a thousand miles as he called upon the children of the Jörmungandr.
The surface layer of the world shook as thousands, then millions of monstrous creatures began to stir from their hibernation. From the most humble yet ferocious Penguin to the great permafrost Wyrms tunneling below the bedrock seeking hidden settlements, all were called to fulfill their ancestral oaths. One and all began to converge on his location, leaving behind all territories, abandoning internal battles, prepared to starve instead of finishing their hunt… all to be a part of the gathering horde.
Brisingr stepped forward once again, each footfall reshaping the geography below him as his gaze remained locked on a collection of low, snow-covered hills. Approaching the mounds, he reached out with surprising care and grasped the nearest of them. With a slow, steady pull, he revealed a mass of frozen fur that seemed to have no end. The frost giant casually looped it around his neck, completing his preparations for the long walk.
“Now, I am dressed for the job I want.” He let out a deep chuckle and strode along at a steady pace once more, scarf streaming behind him in the gale-force winds created by his passing. His monocle gleamed in the dim light that passed through the ever-present cloud layer, and Brisingr began to softly hum.
The tune that reverberated out from him was a standing call to arms from all of the creatures within range. A steady pressure from his immense Charisma, which drilled against even the strongest of mental defenses that would keep the beasts from ignoring his initial call. Eventually, none would be able to resist.
As the daylight turned to darkness, the giant found himself nearing the edge of a vast chasm, an abyss so deep it seemed to plunge nearly halfway to the core of the planet itself. Brisingr had been here many times before; he had witnessed when the Jotunn itself had done battle against the Sagedom of Vanaheim. Even he felt a chill down his spine as he remembered how the Mythical World Boss had dug its fingers into the planet and bodily hurled the entire continent into space… before chanting an incantation that caused it to detonate. From there, the Jotunn had commanded the debris to shift into the fallout that, even to this day, caused an eternal winter on the planet.
Without missing a step, the giant continued toward what would be an impassable obstacle for any other being. “I now see your wisdom in choosing me, great Jotunn.”
His chin tilted up, and his eyes raised to the swirling storm above. The ambient mana of the world collapsed toward him as if drawn in by a black hole, gathering in his right eye and being amplified a thousand-fold by his icy monocle.
A beam of energy colder than the depths of space spiraled outward in a triple helix, striking the dense clouds overhead then sweeping along in a straight path in front of the giant. Where his gaze passed, the clouds solidified into blocks of ice, plummeting from the sky and into the gaping chasm barring his path.
Even as he continued forward, the void was filled in a straight line. The brand new, icy bridge held his weight without issue, as he had known it would. Hundreds of thousands of creatures swarmed across with him, and the great migration to destroy the upstarts had officially begun.
“What weapon should I use to showcase the might of the everfrost?” Brisingr mused to himself, the wind from his lips sending thousands of creatures careening off and into the void surrounding the bridge. “A storm that separates flesh from bone, freezing both once they have been parted? No… then they would never look upon my face and understand the hopelessness of their goal. An arch of ultimate ice that descends from the heavens, ignoring all defenses and eradicating the heart of their settlement? …Perhaps. Yes, that sounds… appropriate.”
“First, I will destroy their only hope. Then, I will dismantle anything they have managed to build. Last, I will encase them in ice for a thousand generations.” Brisingr slowly nodded as he allowed the plan to settle into its final form.
“Novusheim… enjoy the last fleeting warmth you managed to force upon us. I thank you for your sacrifice, for you shall be the stone I step on to climb to higher heights.”
CHAPTER ONE
A high-pitched whine filled the dimly lit chamber Joe was working in, signaling the beginning of a cascade of energies that would cause his ritual to detonate if left unchecked. The Ritualist’s Aspect Inscriber flew back over the area he’d just completed, quickly scratching out lines of mana and aspects and replacing them with corrected, stable versions that overlaid the original and substituted them perfectly. Sweat dripped freely down his brow as he raced the clock, hoping to outpace the imminent explosion.
With a final quick, efficient motion, he set a line between the second and third circles that drained the overflow and stabilized the entire diagram. When it didn’t blow up, the Ritualist let out a long sigh of relief. The charge that had been building up in the room—a mix of the chaotic energies of Jotunheim, the odd, fiery semi-liquid that was aspects, and the catalyst of mana that bound them together—released a brief hum of harmony before quieting and fading into background noise.
“Did it work? Hmm… can’t tell yet.” With fluid and precise movements, he altered additional symbols in the ritual circles, each adjustment subtly changing the flow of energy. Joe's deep knowledge of rituals, at no less than the Master rank, combined with his high skill levels in Ritual Lore, began to shine through. Little by little, he shifted the ritual's purpose by removing the original creator's intent and substituting his own. “Come on, work. This is the last one I need for the quest.”
After rescuing Daniella and bringing her back to be integrated into Novusheim, things had settled into a fairly routine pace for Joe. First, he had delayed replacing the towers that kept the Town safe, forcing the large population of warriors to defend against the random Beast Waves on their own, without much magical support. Once he felt that his point had been thoroughly proven, the Ritualist had gone to the council and bargained for additional privileges, solidifying his rise into the upper echelons of the burgeoning Dwarven Oligarchy.
His casual lifestyle had only been interrupted when he went to spend time with his friends or attend the events they were participating in. Joe had made a resolution to be there and cheer them on outside of combat and serious situations. For instance, Jaxon had taken an interest in local theater and had successfully played his part as an ice sculpture in two plays back-to-back. The Chiropractor was so pleased with himself that Joe didn't have the heart to explain that he was part of the set—not the play—and even then, only because the theater staff had been too terrified to deny him access.
The Town itself felt like it was in a holding pattern, slowly building up its strength and population as the residents gathered all the courage they needed to push through the bottleneck keeping their settlement from being a system-recognized City. On the plus side, morale was steadily increasing as the walls expanded, and the quality and quantity of goods being produced gradually increased.
After the bargaining had been completed, the next thing Joe had done was hole himself up in his workshop, creating better versions of Town defense rituals. Even though he could always use new ways to deal damage—just in case they came across a creature that was resistant to what his towers used—the Ritualist felt that his time would be far better used by creating enhanced magics instead of just more of the same.
The problem was, designing a new ritual from scratch required a deep knowledge of the spell model that he was going to base it off of. One of his current frustrations was the fact that he didn’t have a large foundation in standard spellcasting and had already made multiple ritual variations of the spells he was capable of completing. That meant he could either create ever-more variants, learn and practice new spells until they’d reached an acceptable level, or retrofit his darker rituals to be more generally useful.
Seeing as how the last of those options also aligned with a quest he had gained, Joe had decided to pursue that one.
“Ritual of Dark Reach.” Joe toyed with the words as he pulled out sections of the original ritual and replaced them with his personal symbols. “I wonder what you’re going to end up being after I'm done with you.”
As he made the last stroke with his Aspect Inscriber, Joe carefully leaned back and carefully scrutinized the liquid fire that was hanging in midair. His piercing gaze hovered over each swoop and swirl, finding no errors, no matter how carefully he searched. Easing his hand forward, he tapped down, putting the pads of his fingers directly in the center of the ritual and channeling his mana into the hopefully cleansed ritual.
Power drained out of him, and the oversized circles shrank down until the largest of them surrounded his hand. Finding himself flinching back, the Ritualist forcefully calmed himself and smiled as he realized that the circles had moved with his hand without needing to be forced to move by his Willpower. He waved his appendage around, and the ritual moved with it easily, as though it was stuck to a glove. “Okay, that was unexpected, but it's nice… if it works.”
Selecting the far wall as his target, Joe pointed his hand toward it, and immediately a bolt of pure darkness launched across the chamber, striking the far wall and expanding to fill its entire surface with a field of clinging, churning shadows. The fact that they moved on their own and had rounded edges brought a frown to Joe's face. “Odd. This was supposed to make a twenty-foot section of spikes, not whatever that is. Did the ritual fail?”
Only two and a half seconds after the shadows began moving, they faded away and left the wall as blank as it’d been originally. He made a mental note to put up some kind of art, like Daniella had suggested, then sent a flash of intent back into the ritual. Once more, the far wall was transformed, and this time he threw himself forward to test it, trusting his Exquisite Shell to keep him safe.
You have been rooted! Strength check failed. Resistance check failed. You are unable to move from this spot for 1 more second.
The darkness faded away, and Joe dropped a couple of inches to the ground, a pleased, if somewhat surprised, expression on his face. He turned to his notes and carefully detailed his experience, adding his thoughts on how to improve it further in the future. “I can see where it went wrong. I’d intended for this to turn into a field of something like caltrops, but my mind had been on holding or slowing creatures moving through the area, not slashing them up like spikes would’ve done. Maybe I should see if Grandmaster Snow would offer some insight on how to be specific while still being ambiguous enough to allow the ritual to grow in unique ways.”
Once he was satisfied with how everything had turned out, he shifted his attention to the notifications that were waiting for him.
Quest complete: Redeeming Rituals. You have cleansed your fifth ritual of at least Journeyman rank! Reward: Ritual of Cleansing (Expert).
The Ritual of Cleansing can be set in any area to remove aspects of intent from ambient mana. There are many benefits to this process, including but not limited to a calmer, less chaotic atmosphere in the area.
Eyes glittering with excitement, Joe swept all of his notes, ritual tiles, and other various knickknacks off of his desk, prepared to let them clatter to the floor. Instead, he scooped them into his spatial storage codpiece at the last minute. While he enjoyed being dramatic, the Ritualist still knew better than to make a mess or damage his research. Without taking another moment to relax, he began etching the Expert-ranked ritual onto a tile, quickly building it up over the next fifteen minutes, then half hour, hour… time flew as his intense focus and excitement enticed him along.
Before he knew it, he was putting the final touches on the ritual. As the last circle was completed, and he pulled his Aspect Inscriber back to admire his work, the stone tile shattered, filling his workshop with a blaze of fire and a detonation of mana.
The Ritualist was hucked across the room, slamming into the wall and being held there as the explosion rebounded, having nowhere to escape, thanks to being confined inside the vault. Joe’s Exquisite Shell was blasted with power and aspects, a quarter of the potential damage going directly through his magical protections and scoring deep lines into his flesh, thanks to the odd true damage the flames inflicted.
