A prince, a trickster, and a game designer walk into a tavern…and two worlds are forever changed because of them.
The Greatest Trick Ever Sold
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Take a look at the excerpts taking from the novel...
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“O’ hazy eye of the blue moon above,” sang the young bard who sat on a rickety wooden stool by the tavern’s lone hearth fire, “bestow me the fortune of lovers and gold~~d…”
Usually, bards wielded all manner of sorcerous illusions to accompany their songs. From conjured fog to colorful lights and even dancing spirits; the master bards of the Atlan Imperium turned every tune into a magical performance—but not him. Not this youthful, purple-haired bard who dared to entertain a gathering of the most dour-looking patrons he had ever encountered with only his voice and lute to woo them.
“And should your red twin fill the night with death and cold,” he strummed his lute with a skill that belied his young years, “keep these troubles far from my weary soul~~l…”
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[CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve used what you’ve learned to successfully hide from your pursuers, earning you the achievement [Apprentice of the Delightful Troupe]! This beginner title increases the chance of success for Stealth and Deception when creating disguises, hiding in covered areas, or moving under the cover of night.]
“This would be a useful boon if only you meant to give it to me…”
[ALERT! Your body is unsuited to receiving the system’s boons. Activation of [Apprentice of the Delightful Troupe] is canceled.]
“Hah.”
[ALERT! [Administrator Lv. 1] prevents you from earning experience.]
Bram laughed ironically.
[ALERT! You lack the magic to use the system to your benefit. Progressing in your job-exclusive quests may help to remove this penalty.]
“Once again you taunt me with promises of power but show me no path forward in seizing it.”
Here lay the reason why Bram often ignored these otherworldly messages. He would see them pop up every time he achieved something of note, although they were constantly negative and always denied him the boons he rightly deserved.
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As he proved on his night with the Mighty Greenwood Gang, bards were welcome all over the Imperium. So, it became a tradition among the nobility to employ these musicians and poets as spies and saboteurs. Among the many organizations in the capital born from this tradition, there were none better than the Delightful Troupe whose skills for espionage were said to be as dazzling as their talents in the performance arts. Bram’s teachers had come from this very troupe, and though he lacked talent in sorcery, they taught him other things that didn’t require the gift of magic because they saw the benefit in having him beholden to them.
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So, in a secret room of a brothel that a then fourteen-year-old Bram frequented, he learned to paint his face with strange dyes and alter his features with clay. He learned to change his gait, his size, and even his speech, turning him from prince to pauper as easily as if he were changing clothes.
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Despite being pushed back, Ser Jasper reached for Bram with a hand burning with arcane fire. It would’ve melted the his face if he hadn’t ducked down at the last second.
Then, with his feet bent low, Bram pounced on Ser Jasper.
He tackled Ser Jasper’s smaller figure, getting behind him to wrap thick arms around his waist, and then lifting him high with his ogrish strength to flip Ser Jasper over, sending him slamming headfirst onto the ground with a ‘Lotharian Suplex’ Bram had learned from a wrestling instructor who’d trained him secretly many, many moons ago.
Ser Jasper’s head and back cracked hard against the ground, leaving him groggy long enough for Bram to mount him and then pull the enchanted arrow from his bleeding throat.
The wound tore open, spraying him with a knight’s blood.
Bram hoped that the blood loss would render Ser Jasper unconscious, but the small knight clung to life as desperately as Bram did.
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“Your blood tastes so sweet and familiar to me… Could you be Atlan’s descendant?” the redhead asked as she knelt by his side.
It must have taken Bram all his strength just to nod. It was all he could do, for his throat had become too dry for words.
The redhead reached down, and with a strength that should have been impossible for her lithe form, she picked Bram up and cradled him in her arms.
“Tell me, Atlan’s descendant,” she whispered to him, her deep voice like honey to his ears, “what is your heart’s desire?”
She pulled him close in an embrace that would have seemed intimate to a casual observer, but it was the only way for the redhead to bring Bram’s mouth close enough to her ear.
“Bargain,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve…come…to…bargain.”
Bram saw the smile forming on the redhead’s face, and the twin fangs protruding from her upper lip.
“Very well…” her mouth moved ever closer to his neck so that her breath tickled the skin of his throat. “A bargain struck in blood it shall be.”
As Bram’s eyes slid to a close, the redhead pressed her lips to his skin and then she kissed him… Not a lover’s kiss, but one of blood and death.
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“The system we build will have safeguards to ensure our interests are prioritized.” He poured more wine for himself and Rowan. “It will grant them their heart’s desire while binding them to me, you, and Lotharin.”
“And what of their freedom?” Rowan asked.
She took a sip of wine. Her wrinkling nose told Bram she did not enjoy its taste.
“They will be free to choose how they live their lives on Aarde but within the limitations of the system,” Bram answered.
“I see.” Rowan smiled again. Wider this time. “Limit their choices to those that will benefit only the great undertaking.”
“Exactly,” Bram replied. Then, with an ironic expression on his face, he added, “It will be the greatest lie ever told…”
Rowan shook her head.
“Not a lie,” she whispered, tilting Bram’s chin up with delicate fingers so that they locked gazes. “It will be the greatest trick ever sold.”
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The Forest Kingdom of Lotharin
image [https://i.imgur.com/uFvViTa.jpeg]
Read up to chapter 7, 20,000 words, in 24 hours!
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