Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (black authors fiction txt) 📕

I jolted upright, waking Eris in the process. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I said, wiping a strand of drool that slipped from the corner of my lip.

Gil grunted a non-reply and shuffled over to let me get a look at what he’d made.

It was perfect.

The base was studded leather; dozens of little studs were sewn into the armor around the vital areas that weren’t covered by plate metal, the collar, hips, and groin. They were grouped as tightly as possible to help disperse the impact of blunt weapons and deflect a slice or thrust from a blade. The leather was a vibrant azure, and the steel studs reminded me of scales. The inclusion of the studs acted like scale mail to add an extra layer of protection while keeping my movements unhindered, but the separation of the studs would mean they wouldn’t jostle and clank as I moved.

Heavy plate mail was added on the chest and back with leather-backed metal pauldrons for the shoulders. The legs had thick leather greaves that stopped just before my ankles.

To top everything off, Gil had accented the collar of the armor with the silver and black fur of a bane wolf, which surpassed even the size of the already monstrous dire wolves.

This was a masterfully crafted set of medium armor built for movement and to take a beating.

“Gil, you shouldn’t have,” I told him. “You used the leather from the storm dragon, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, it does me no good if you go off and get yourself killed because you can’t stay away from trouble.” He turned and gave me a fierce look. “You’ll be paying me back for that leather. It was damn near priceless, as you well know.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Of course.”

His features softened. “I know, I’m just giving you a hard time because I need sleep. Or better yet, coffee. Ye gods, what I would give for just a sip.”

I nodded in agreement. We shook hands, and he pulled me in for a quick hug. “You be safe out there, D.”

He walked over to Eris and knelt to look at her, even though he still towered over her.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, little miss,” he said as he presented her with a light breastplate and a set of matching vambraces. “It’s not much, since I had to spend most of the time on the idiot’s armor, but it should fit you well enough and keep you alive if you run into trouble.”

Eris smiled wide as she equipped her new armor. It took a little help to get her into it, but in no time we had succeeded. Her traveling cloak concealed her armor entirely. She spun around, getting a feel for the added weight.

Satisfied, she wrapped her arms around Gil’s giant neck and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Gil,” she said, as she clung around his neck. It took nearly both of her arms to wrap around the giant berserker.

He blushed scarlet and mumbled, “It’s no trouble, don’t mention it.”

At the sight of Eris holding on so tightly to my best friend, something dark uncoiled itself from my heart. Ice-cold hands tore into my chest, and a pitch-black rage welled up inside me as Eris hugged him and pressed her lips to his cheek.

How dare he put his filthy hands on her!

“Kill him for touching what’s rightfully yours. Make him suffer,” a smoky, sibilant voice demanded from inside of me.

I unconsciously reached for my sword before I could stop myself. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the voice that was inside me. Gil is my friend, not my enemy. What the hell am I thinking?

The feeling came and went in a flash; it receded when logic told me what I was feeling was wrong. It happened so quickly that neither of them noticed. What is wrong with me?

I turned away from the pair of them and went outside to get some air and ready our supplies and my horse.

As I exited the stifling workshop, I breathed in deeply, letting the chilly morning air cool the lingering presence of rage within me. After a moment or two, normalcy reasserted itself, and I went to organize our packs.

Our supplies were rather simple. Just two identical sets of the standard adventurer’s kit. A camping set, one hundred feet of rope, dry rations and water, flint and steel, a torch, and ten health and mana potions.

I added some personal additions to the kit. A set of burglar’s tools that were a gift from Wilson—I wasn’t anywhere close to his skill at lock picking, but I managed well enough. I also threw in a few vials of poison and some smoke bombs in case we needed to make a rapid getaway. I also carried my wood carving tools, for when I would inevitably get bored on the trip. It would give me something to do with my hands. And, of course, my large travel flask of whiskey.

After packing everything and storing it all in my inventory, I went to ready my horse.

As I slipped through the wooden doors, the stench gave me pause. A mixture of manure and the pungent odor of animals combined with the smell of damp hay, which always lingered no matter how often we changed the straw.

There were only five animals in the stables, as most of us used teleportation to get around. Before the hunt for the dragon, it had been months since I had ridden my mount.

She stood in the back. Even among the admittedly impressive array of animals we had acquired over the years, I held a special place in my heart for my horse.

Lacuna was a massive warhorse, taller than even Gil and just as long. She was the perfect shade of midnight