Berserker: A LitRPG Urban Fantasy Adventure (Apocosmos Book 1) by Dimitrios Gkirgkiris (phonics readers .txt) 📕

into strands by metal rings that clinked all the way down to his waist. What looked awfully off-putting about his face, apart from his unnerving, piercing blue eyes, was the complete absence of mustache. You can never think about how weird beards look without the mustache until you see it.

I tried to take my eyes off his facial hair and awkwardly stretched my hand out toward the sofa to offer him a seat. But in reality, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to sit, or even touch any of my furniture. His pants were covered in smudges and his shirt, if you could call it a shirt with that many holes, would do little to prevent his bare skin from rubbing all over my sofa. Taking a quick glance at his impossibly thick fingers confirmed my suspicions that his fingernails were as black as a car mechanic’s at the end of their shift.

“Ye gonna sit, lad?” the man asked and I realized I was just standing in the middle of the room, looking at him.

It was the first time I’d ever seen a dwarf and also the first time I’d ever seen a person so impossibly muscular and frightening. His arms, back, and head were full of deep scars and burns, the sign of a man who had seen labor and battle. I tried to suppress my awe and fear and remembered the basics of hospitality.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered.

“Aye, ye got any Fireoak whiskey?”

“No, sorry.”

“Lagavulin?” he asked again.

“No, I meant I don’t have any whiskey.”

“Water will do then,” he said and cracked a very discomforting smile. “Man’s gotta hydrate.”

“Sure,” I replied and headed into the kitchen.

I grabbed a water jug I had forgotten even existed from the top shelf, filled it up with water, and brought it back to the man along with a glass. As soon as the glass touched the table in front of him, he used two fingers to grab the jug as if it was a teacup and poured some water into the glass.

Apparently, this water in the glass was for me, since he proceeded to down the rest of it directly from the jug, droplets of water slipping from his completely shaven upper lip down into his rich beard. This, however, gave me the chance to examine him better.

Name : Rory Battleforge

Race : Dwarf

Class : Mastersmith

Level : 43

The only additional information I could gather was that he was level 43, though I had no idea if his class had been upgraded or not. You didn’t need to change your class to keep leveling, so they might well have skipped the level 40 class change quest. They would unlock new skills or better versions of existing ones, which was something I couldn’t see, and thus, with my limited knowledge of class trees, I didn’t know if Mastersmith was a level 40 evolution of a class.

“So, are ye a Celt?” he said and offered a wide smile.

“Not exactly,” I replied as I took a seat on an armchair at the other end of the room. “My father’s Greek but I got my mother’s last name. She was born here but her parents were Scots, so I guess they were Gaels.”

“Greek, huh? Old bastards. But then we’re made of the same material from yer mother’s side. Ye don’t mind if I get me smoke on, do ye?”

Without really waiting for an answer, he produced a long thin pipe, similar to the one used by Gandalf, from one of his pockets. At first, I was surprised at how he was able to fit the long piece of wood in such a shallow pocket, but then I guessed I should expect a lot of magical gear on a smith of his level.

Without having lit any sort of fire on the pipe’s bowl, he inhaled deeply and blew out a thick purple cloud in the rough shape of a pickaxe. The smoke carried a sweet lavender aroma as it filled the room and had Louie coming between us, smelling the air.

“Ye got a fine regal dog here,” he said and patted Louie’s furry butt with a couple of his fingers. “They might be known for being the queen’s favorite pups, but did ye know that the tradition of having corgi companions dates way back to the Celtic kings? As a matter of fact, the almighty Brennus still has corgis.”

“Wasn’t Brennus a Gael?” I asked, trying to remember some of the lore I’d once come across while wandering down one of the bottomless, obscure, after-midnight web rabbit-holes.

“Gaul, Celt,” he said and waved his hand dismissively. “Use whatever word ye want. He’s me people and used to be a friend.”

“What do you mean used to be a friend?” I asked, confused.

“We had… an argument,” the dwarf replied reluctantly, “and haven’t spoken in centuries.”

“No, sorry. That’s not what I meant. Didn’t Brennus live and die two and a half millenia ago?”

“Boy, ye must be really new in the Apocosmos if ye really think the truth that’s written in the Cosmos is what actually happened.”

“I wouldn’t call myself new,” I said, trying to cover up my misstep. “I just haven’t heard his story.”

“Well then, ye’re definitely new to doing business with dwarfs at least. I asked ye a personal question and ye didn’t do the same until much later. And with one that was too personal. I offered ye knowledge on something ye didn’t know, but ye kept asking questions instead of returning the favor.”

“It is quite obvious,” Louie took his turn in saying now.

“Oh, ye’re a companion?” the dwarf said and paused to examine Louie anew. “A spellcaster too. Quite an interesting duo, aren’t ye?”

“Yes, we are,” I said, slightly frustrated my cover had been blown and that I’d have to enter negotiations at a disadvantage. “But we’re here to do business.”

“Right. What is it ye want to talk about, Alexander?”

“You’re a long way from home,” I began saying and his face immediately darkened. “Also, your