Tokens and Towers Box Set: (Fantasy LitRPG series), page 1
Tokens
and
Towers
(The Complete Series - Volumes 1-3)
By Harmon Cooper
Copyright © 2023 Harmon Cooper
Copyright © 2023 Boycott Books
Art by Richard Sashigane
Font by Shawn King
Audiobook narrated by Daniel Wisniewski and Rebecca Woods
www.harmoncooper.com
writer.harmoncooper@gmail.com
Twitter: @_HarmonCooper
Harmon Cooper’s Patreon
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Contents
Table of Contents
Tokens and Towers Volume One
Prologue/Fictional Author Foreword
Chapter One: The Gnomes Must Die
Chapter Two: Axl Rose - A Perfect Name for a Perfect Axe
Chapter Three: The Chapter in Which I Discover I Am Now A Crypto Millionaire
Chapter Four: Just My Luck
Chapter Five: Clovis the Spellbook and the Mad Lad Fight a Hangry Kobold
Chapter Six: Loot or Die, There is No Try (Clovis Gets a Mustache)
Chapter Seven: Revenge of the Gnomes
Chapter Eight: Almost Bludgeoned in a Dungeon
Chapter Nine: Open Mic Night at the Ogreview Cafe and Grill
Chapter Ten: Skill Points and an Ogric Beatdown of Enematic Proportions
Chapter Eleven: We’re a Guild, Baby!
Chapter Twelve: Clovis and the Mad Lad Get Their Asses Kicked by Hemotropic Butterflies
Chapter Thirteen: The Chapter in Which We Battle the Giant Ogre
Chapter Fourteen: Flashback to Viagra Falls
Chapter Fifteen: A Snooze and a Revelation on the First Floor
Chapter Sixteen: Deathmatch
Chapter Seventeen: I Should Be Dead Right Now (But I’m Not)
Chapter Eighteen: Fighting Meerkats in the Endless Desert
Chapter Nineteen: Dung Beetles and Scorpions - Time For Some Pest Control!
Chapter Twenty: Pyramid and Rune
Chapter Twenty-One: Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Ascendants
Chapter Twenty-Two: Hamsterdam Is One Hell of A Place
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hamfather; or, Why Clovis and I Shouldn’t Take Quests from the Hamster Mafia
Chapter Twenty-Four: I’m Not Even Going to Try to Describe What Happens in This Chapter
Chapter Twenty-Five: Hop, the Teenage Drug-Dealing Hamster
Chapter Twenty-Six: One Act Slay
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Shop ‘Til We Drop
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fighting Murder Hornets Isn’t What it Used to Be
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Burning Books with Vampires
Chapter Thirty: Capture the Swag
Chapter Thirty-One: Against All Odds
Chapter Thirty-Two: Barbarian with A Heart of Gold
Chapter Thirty-Three: Angel Farts, Wolf Tamer
Chapter Thirty-Four: Keep on Grinding in the Free World
Chapter Thirty-Five: Fortress of Dwarves
Tokens and Towers Volume Two
Prologue/Fictional Author Foreword
Chapter 1: Let the Dragolympics Begin!
Chapter 2: Randy Lionheart, Dragon Tamer
Chapter 3: I Wish Genera Had a Game Genie Token
Chapter 4: How Not to Tame Your Dragon
Chapter 5: A Hopping Good Time
Chapter 6: I Call, and Frequently Take Part in, Shenanigans
Chapter 7: Off to the Races!
Chapter 8: Team Mad Lad
Chapter 9: The Unlikeliest of Crews
Chapter 10: Donkey Ride to Xanderfee
Chapter 11: Religious Awakening
Chapter 12: Xotatoes and Scrael
Chapter 13: Mini-Boss
Chapter 14: Mad Lad Squared
Chapter 15: Behind Door Number One
Chapter 16: Keep on Turn-Based Battling in the Free World; or, When A Semi-Wasted Childhood Actually Comes in Handy
Chapter 17: Boss Battle
Chapter 18: Mmm, Mystery Chocolate
Chapter 19: Hamsterdam Redux
Chapter 20: Dr. Jerry Elderberries, MD
Chapter 21: It’s Science
Chapter 22: Major Lasers
Chapter 23: Hamry Savage’s Armor Emporium
Chapter 24: The Chapter in Which Clovis and I Become Slimes
Chapter 25: Masonville, Home of the Cockfighting Lawyer
Chapter 26: Radioheads are People Too
Chapter 27: Conspicuous Consumption
Chapter 28: It’s Official - Mad Lads Merch Coming Soon
Chapter 29: Golem Babysitters Club
Chapter 30: This Way to the Top of the Volcano
Chapter 31: Open Carry Cave
Chapter 32: Drill and Thrust
Chapter 33: Hitpuppy
Chapter 34: Burning Ring of Fire
Tokens and Towers Volume Three
Prologue/Fictional Author Foreword
Chapter 1: The Bear Hotel
Chapter 2: Valentine’s Day Surprise
Chapter 3: Bear Brawl
Chapter 4: Charlotte
Chapter 5: The Dumbest of Plans
Chapter 6: I Will Never Find Love
Chapter 7: Madame Rue
Chapter 8: Bon Bock Fiasco
Chapter 9: Halloween at the Louvre
Chapter 10: Tanis the Zoomer Sphinx
Chapter 11: Sullying the Sully Wing
Chapter 12: Rich as Hell in the Richelieu Wing
Chapter 13: Bearpolean III’s Gaudy Apartment
Chapter 14: Getting Demented in the Denon Wing
Chapter 15: The Mona Beara Lisa and Aegis of Da Vinci
Chapter 16: Hot Tubs and Cream Puffs
Chapter 17: By Any Means Necessary
Chapter 18: Goremaw, Deathspel, and ShadowLily Visit the Ritz Bearis
Chapter 19: Posted Up at the Bearful Tower
Chapter 20: Assassin Assassins
Chapter 21: Goremaw, Deathspel, and ShadowLily Revisit the Ritz Bearis with Chibi Randy and Chibi Clovis to Kill the Hamfather
Chapter 22: Christmas Cops or Yuletide Robbers
Chapter 23: Friends in High Places
Chapter 24: Bullets and Bear Zombies
Chapter 25: Unexpected Twist
Chapter 26: Hops Lives!
Chapter 27: Run them Jewels Fast
Chapter 28: Happy at the Hotel
Chapter 29: Death Match Redux
Chapter 30: Dream Come True
Chapter 31: Lincoln City Discovery
Chapter 32: Ithaca is Gorges
Chapter 33: Glitch Token
Back of the Book
Other Books by Harmon Cooper
Tokens and Towers Volume One
Prologue/Fictional Author Foreword
This story might not be for everyone, but if you’ve made it this far, it’s probably for you.
Too soon? I’ve been saving that intro line forever, and now I’m feeling like I botched the opening line already, which is generally considered the most important sentence in a book.
In that case, I’ll just get straight to the point.
My name is Randy Lionheart and I’m a fantasy writer. With that in mind, I promise that you will be thoroughly entertained by the crazy story to follow, a story which would be way less crazy if it weren’t for the fact it actually happened to me, and is still happening to me (I’m still trapped in this fantasy world known as Genera as we speak).
If you’ve never read a LitRPG before, strap in. If you have, sit back, enjoy the ride.
Congratulations, you will laugh your ass off!
At me.
That’s right, I’m the guy who fell asleep (or maybe died) in a sensory deprivation tank and woke up in a world populated by all sorts of chicanerous creatures, from rogue halflings to an assortment of elves, sketchy wizards, treacherous gnomes, and ravenous trolls; the same fantasy writer who also spent his last book advance on crypto, leaving me completely broke.
But more on that second part later…
For some reason, you’re still here and wondering when this story is actually going to start, and what this Mad Lad of a writer (aka me) has in store for you.
We’re almost there, reader, but before we kick this one into high gear, before we portal to another world and start the tutorial so we can reach the tower and get working on those floors, I need to clear up a few more things:
THERE WILL BE CURSING.
But there won’t be sex.
And there will be pop culture references galore that are totally going to date this story. I am also forced to seduce a dungeon core at one point in the first act; take quests in a floor populated by bipedal hamsters known as Hamsterdam; and fight everything from raging murder hornets to Japanese goblins, among other wacky situations. So expect violence and shenanigans.
I swear to you that as soon as chapter one starts, this story will kick into super high gear with a metric crapton of action, batty challenges, a smattering of stats, unhinged tournaments, fun characters, and clever enough banter as I slay my way toward the tower.
Because that’s what Tokens and Towers is all about, and I wouldn’t have it any other way even if it is indulgent.
It’s safe to say
that I’m just as excited as you are to kick this one off, dear reader, itching to grab the nearest weapon and start grinding and looting like my life depends on it while dealing with a powerful yet misguided flying spellbook named Clovis.
Congrats to both of us!
We, you and I, are about to embark on an epic journey, the epic-est of journeys, one that has never been told before. With that in mind, I’m going to exit stage left and let this story shine before you figure out a better way to spend your time.
My name is Randy Lionheart.
Let’s get wild.
Chapter One: The Gnomes Must Die
—Steps to Using the Float System—
1.) Once you have taken off all of your clothing, put your earplugs in and shower to remove any excess oils in your skin. Do not use the conditioner (don’t worry, you can condition afterwards) but do use the shampoo and bodywash, all of which are hypoallergenic.
2.) Enter the float tank. Controls for the music volume and the light are on your left. You may close the door to the tank or keep it open. The outer lights will turn off automatically.
3.) Your session will begin. Just float. Concentrate on your breath as you do so.
4.) After ninety minutes, the float system will tell you that your session has ended.
5.) Once your session has ended, carefully get out of the float tank and take another shower. Your skin will feel soft from the Epsom salt. You may now use conditioner.
6.) After you have toweled off and dressed, please—
I stopped reading the instructions at this point. I got the gist, and had already watched the instructional video the wellness center had emailed me.
Coming here was supposed to be my Hail Mary. A friend of mine had let me use his gift card with several ‘floats’ on it, which was what this place called being suspended in a sensory deprivation tank for ninety minutes for restorative purposes and to enhance creativity. This was supposed to be an experience that would spark something for me. Yet here I was, naked as the day I was born, showering in a bathroom a thousand times nicer than any bathroom I’d ever had, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how they had rechristened the sensory deprivation tank to ‘float tank.’
That was probably the fantasy writer in me thinking.
I guess ‘float tank’ does sound a bit nicer, but I think I’ll call you Tanky the Tank…
I turned off the shower, and as water dripped from my skin, I finally opened the hatch. It truly was a hatch, to the point that it almost resembled a cremation oven, the inner surfaces of the tank smooth, white, and oh-so-plastic. The interior of the tank was about eight feet across, and five feet high. As soon as I was in, an indigo light flicked on and a light soundtrack started up, the music somewhere between ambient piano and white noise.
“Weird…”
I lowered into the ninety-four-degree water that was standing at about ten inches high, the bottom surface of the tank quite slick.
You’ve got this. You need this, I reminded myself as I relaxed onto my back, the water laced with Epsom salt aiding in my buoyancy.
Reaching my hand over my head allowed me to close the hatch door behind me, a tinge of claustrophobia coming to me as I tried to adjust to my little wellness oasis. I tried to get comfortable as the music carried through the water and into my plugged ears.
You’re not going to die in here. Tanky the Tank isn’t going to kill you…
Once I was nice and floaty, I pressed my thumb against a button that turned off the light.
My heart jumped at the sudden darkness. I actively stopped myself from turning the light back on. I needed this. I needed to be alone with my thoughts, to work through some shit.
The hint of fear slowly filtered away.
Soon, I was floating comfortably, relaxing even further into the water once it was clear I couldn’t drown.
Just float…
I was here, everything was in its right place, and I would come out of this float session with an idea that would rebuild my literary career.
At least that was the plan…
****
What? I thought, coming out of my meditative, float tank reverie. Did someone just speak to me? And was she British?
Why am I hearing voices? And what is this about gnomes? Focus, Randy…
I was in this float tank for a reason. I needed a novel idea, something that would keep the royalties coming in and the fantasy writing ship afloat until I stumbled across my next concept, or at least until the crypto I had dumped my savings into would moon, making me rich enough to afford a one-way ticket to outer space.
I quieted my breath yet again, waiting for my muse to finally appear, that clever beauty who had most graciously blessed me with The Mana in the White Castle, War Beast, Mage of Rage, and Kung Fu Fable, my bestselling cultivation series with gaming elements. It was the same dastardly muse who had also shat the bed with my experimental Oh, Great, I Fell in Love with a Demon Mimic and Now I’m Going to Hell to Become a Dungeoncore Farmer, which was some cringe-worthy GameLit erotica I wrote under my pen name Angel Farts that had sold all of seven ebook copies (and one was returned, but I still count it as seven).
Come on, Randy, think…
Forget about your pen name… forget about Angel Farts…
But thinking about thinking had a way of making me feel like I was overthinking. In that case...
Focus on your breath…
Come on, man, focus!
There it was again, my thoughts interrupted by a British lady, a voice I couldn’t quite place.
It should have been easy to blink my eyes open, find the light switch in the float tank, and climb out. After all, I wasn’t suspended in that much water, and the support staff had told me what to do if I started to feel claustrophobic. There was even an intercom system. Yet I brazenly resisted the urge, wondering if this woman was indeed my muse, that she had finally come to me in a dream state and had decided to take a British voice just to shake things up a bit.
< Welcome, Randall Lionheart...>
“—Please, call me Randy, the noun not the adjective…” I told her, which was my go-to introduction that I found funny but usually didn’t get the laugh I wanted.
“Is this a loaded question?” I asked aloud.
There was an echo to my voice now, darkness still enveloping me.
“Sure, um, human,” I said, just ready to get on with it. “Is that what you wanted me to say?”
Wait… what?
Vortex, vacuum, spiraling down the drain, being uploaded, watching the movie Frozen on shrooms, what it must feel like to be lubed up and sucked through a giant straw, Havana syndrome, taking both the red and blue pill at the same time, being waterboarded—all would describe what happened next as I was portaled to another world, my senses on fire and my head spinning.
Suddenly, I was no longer in a darkened float tank alone with my thoughts. I was now in a forest straight out of Narnia, crisp, pine needles beneath my feet, a slight breeze and a bit of birdsong in the air.
Even worse, I wasn’t alone.
A group of what I would describe as ‘tough guy gnomes’ stood across from me, most of the pint-sized bruisers muscled up and wearing dark, skintight leather and tunics, oozing aggression, some with oiled forearms and biceps.
I thought of the old cartoon Hargrim the Gnome, and how nice those gnomes had been in that show. Surely this troupe would be friendly. Surely they would help a bewildered guy who had magically appeared before them.
After all, they weren’t goblins…
“Fellas,” I said, showing them my hands. “Fellas…”
This has to be a dream… I thought as the lead gnome hawked a giant loogie in my direction, one that was yellow enough to lead me to believe that he might actually have an underlying medical condition.
I tried to will myself awake and failed.
“Fellas…”
