✽✽✽
You have exited Wyrm Island. Your constitution, vigour, and channelling have increased to: level 12.
Your skill in dragon and life magic has advanced to: level 12.
I stepped out of the temple with a bemused grin. Aurora had been as irascible as ever. Who—and what—is the purple woman? I wondered again. Was it just me she disliked, or everyone? And what did other players think of her?
I scratched my head in thought. I had not seen any mention of Aurora—or temple guides, for that matter—in the wiki. Which, come to think of it, was strange, especially considering how distinctive the purple woman was. I would have to remember to ask Tara what she thought of her own guide.
Looking around, I saw the area around the temple was empty. Tara was still not back. I sat down on the steps to ponder my development while I waited.
Despite effecting minimal changes to myself in the temple, I had advanced considerably as a player ever since I’d entered Overworld. Physically I had matured—I was stronger, quicker, and less vulnerable during combat. Magically, I was no slouch either. Notwithstanding my Neophyte-ranked spellpower, my spell damage was still impressive, if the battle against the murluks was anything to go by.
Yet I had still a long way to go.
Physical confrontation—particularly up close—still remained my biggest weakness. Considering my poor manoeuvrability and low health, if I wanted to survive long in this world, I had to stay out of melee range.
I needed a means of ranged attack. Tonight, I thought. Tonight, I will try to create a ranged spell.
Leaving aside the matter of my combat development, I turned my thoughts to the other aspects of my player growth.
The Trials had something called a player profile for players to keep track of their advancement and measure their progress. Before now, I had not felt the need to use it, but as the repertoire of my Disciplines and Traits expanded, I knew it would soon become invaluable.
Now, how do I open the player profile?
I smiled. Summoned by the thought alone, a window unfurled from the Trials core in my head.
You are a player of rank: Trainee, and level: 12.
6% of Magic Potential actualised.
21% of Might Potential actualised.
8% of Resilience Potential actualised.
1% of Craft Potential actualised.
I tilted my head to the side as I considered the way the Trials had summarised my development thus far. It seemed a strange way to measure a player’s progress, yet it was in keeping with the Trials peculiar emphasis on fulfilling one’s Potential. And, I realised, there was a wealth of information hidden beneath those few short lines of text.
Up until this point, I had had no hard measure of how far I could advance my Attributes, but now, considering the percentages the Trials had assigned to my progress, I could determine my Potentials accurately and just as importantly: how long it would take to fulfil them.
Performing some rough calculations in my head, I estimated that I needed to advance over two hundred levels before I maximised my crucial Attributes of spellpower, channelling, vigour, and constitution. That was assuming a gain of two Attribute Marks per level, and did not even consider the investments necessary for defensive Attributes such as elemental resistance and willpower. While they were not a priority, I knew I could not ignore them entirely either.
That’s far too long, I thought, feeling a familiar frustration well up in me. I had to get stronger faster, or I would not be ready when it came time to face the orcs again. I have to find a dungeon, I told myself. And I have to do that soon. But I also have to help establish the Outpost as a settlement. I sighed. So much to do.
About to banish the player profile floating in my vision, my attention was caught by the Trials data on my Craft Potential. While my Potential for Craft was nowhere near that of Magic, it was not insignificant either. Frowning, I considered the crafting Disciplines.
Thus far, I had steadfastly ignored that aspect of the Trials, concentrating instead on the magic and might Disciplines. But at some point I was going to have to devote time towards developing my crafting. I sighed again. Another item to add to the ‘to do’ pile.
There will be time to consider crafting further in the coming days, I thought. Right now, my focus has to remain on my combat prowess. Even if—
The sound of voices interrupted my thoughts. Looking up, I saw Tara had returned.
And she wasn’t alone.
Walking alongside the green-eyed fighter were four others, two men and two women. Michael and John, I recognised from the battles at the river. The women, though, were strangers. I inspected Tara’s companions carefully.
Both women, redheads, wore their hair tied up and carried large bows across their backs, while the men dragged sleds behind them that were empty save for their long spears.
“Jamie,” Tara said, “this is Laura and Cassandra, both hunters. And Michael and Lieutenant John you’ve met already. They will be joining us.”
I raised an eyebrow at Tara, but chose not to question her decision. I had expected our hunting trip to be less… organised, more a walkabout through the surrounding wilderness than a concerted effort to hunt down game. But Tara, it seemed, had other plans.
I limped down the temple steps and exchanged greetings with the four. “What are the sleds for?” I asked.
“To bring back whatever game we find,” replied Tara. “We can ill-afford to waste anything. While food may be plentiful right now, that may change at any time.”
“Alright, then where do we start?” I asked.
Michael, John, and Tara looked to the two hunters for guidance. The women exchanged glances. Studying them more closely, I saw they bore a striking resemblance to each other. Both had the same elfin features, hazel eyes, and freckled skin. They’re sisters.
“There is a herd of elk-like creatures that roam the plains to the south,” said Laura with pursed lips. “And in the forest to the east, there is plentiful small game: rabbits, buck, wild pigs, and the like. But there are also more predators.”
John made a face. “Gah! Not elk meat again. I’ve had my fill of that for days now.” He paused. “But buck sounds delicious.”
“And bacon even better,” Michael chimed in. He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go east.”
Disregarding the pair’s comments, I asked, “What’s to the north?” I didn’t inquire about what lay to the west, assuming the region across the river belonged to the murluks. I doubted anyone wanted to go that way.
“We don’t venture there much,” said Laura, her eyes darkening. “There is a nest of giant spiders in the hills just north of the Outpost. They’ve killed dozens of our hunters, so the commander has declared the area off-limits.”
“We should head south,” said Tara. Michael groaned. Ignoring him, Tara went on, “The six of us together should be able to bring down an elk and fend off any fire lizards we run across.”
Fire lizards? I wondered. I was tempted to ask about them, but I was more interested in the northern hills. “What level are the spiders? And why haven’t you rooted them out?”
The sisters exchanged looks before shooting glances towards Tara. The fighter sighed, and waved for the pair to answer me.
“The spiders are around level thirty, at least those we’ve seen,” said the second sister, Cassandra. “Physically, they’re not strong, but they have a paralysing bite, and they also tend to attack from hiding.” The redhead shuddered. “I was part of one of the first scouting missions to the hills. In those early days we were less wise about the dangers of Overworld.”
Cassandra paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. “We were less than an hour into the hills when we were ambushed by one of the creatures. Right up until the spider sprang out at us, we remained unaware of its presence. When it did attack, we were caught flatfooted. I barely got away, and then only because the creature chose my partner for its target.
He didn’t make it.” Cassandra fell silent, lost in dark memories.
“As for why we haven’t rooted them out,” Laura continued, “the spiders’ nest is in a warren beneath the hills. In an enclosed and lightless space like that, the creatures have the upper hand. Any team we sent down there would be butchered. The spiders have never ventured out of the hills and the captains don’t believe them to be an immediate threat to the Outpost.” She shrugged. “In the end the captains decided that it was more trouble than it was worth to clear out the spiders.”
I disagreed. I glanced at Tara. She would have been one of the captains in question.
The area had to be made safe, if only so the scouts could patrol the region. While the spiders remained, the colony’s northern border was unsecured. And I was certain the commander knew it too. But she probably has too much on her plate right now to deal with them.
“Let’s head north,” I said.
Tara’s lips thinned. “The area is off-limits,” she said. “The commander herself pronounced it so.”
“I’m not under the old lady’s command, remember?” Tara glowered at me, but said nothing. “I’ll go alone if I have to,” I added, pressing her further.
Tara growled. “Jamie, if you think I am going to let you—”
“I’ll go,” said John.
“Me too,” seconded Michael.
Tara turned her scowl upon the two men, but before she could berate them, John raised his hands. “I’m not questioning the commander’s orders, Tara. She had good reason for barring anyone venturing into the hills.” He paused and gestured to me. “But that was before the arrival of our mage here.”
Tara folded her arms and stared at the lieutenant, unmoved by his words.
John held out his hands, imploring Tara. “Think, Captain. You saw what Jamie did against the murluks. His fire magic can even the odds against the spiders, and perhaps even swing them in our favour. We should not ignore the opportunity.”
I eyed John. I had not heard the big man address Tara by her title before. Clearly, he had done so this time deliberately. I glanced at her. While she still looked unhappy, Tara seemed to be wavering. John, it seemed, had chosen the correct tack.
“We’ve never managed to scout out the hills fully,” Cassandra said, weighing in. “With the spiders gone, who knows, we might find the resources we so desperately need. Maybe even some ore.”
Tara opened her mouth then closed it. She sighed before eyeing each of us in turn. “You all want to do this?” The other four nodded. “We might very well die out there. Are you all prepared for that?”
The others shifted their feet, but no one looked away. “We face death every day on the river shore,” said John quietly.
“That’s different, John, and you know it,” Tara scoffed. “The menace we’d face in the hills is tenfold more dangerous.”
Tenfold? I swallowed. Tara thought it was that risky? It doesn’t matter how ill-advised this venture is, I thought stubbornly. We have to do it. Time was of the essence, both for the Outpost and myself. We could not afford to play it safe.
“Nowhere is free of danger on this world, Tara,” I said. “Not yet. If we want to carve out a haven for humanity, we are going to have to take risks. Repeatedly.”
Tara stared at me. I knew she disagreed, and if we were alone, I suspected my words would have earned me an earful. But with the other four already on my side and watching, Tara relented. “Alright,” she said finally. “We’ll do this. But if things become too dangerous, we retreat. No debates. No arguments. Agreed?”
We all nodded.
Chapter 24
390 days until the Arkon Shield falls
It was a two-hour hike to the foothills north of the Outpost. The sisters believed the intervening region to be safe—relatively safe, anyway. It didn’t stop the pair from jogging off to scout ahead though.
After the sisters disappeared over the horizon, Tara turned to the rest of us. “Alright, let’s get moving. We have to hurry if we’re going to make it back in time for the old lady’s conference.” I nodded, and the four of us set off north.
We crossed through the settlement’s northern outskirts without encountering anyone. Most of the Outpost’s activity seemed to be concentrated either in the west, near the river shore, or to the east in the camp.
I paused as we reached the Outpost’s northern boundary. Little more than an open trench marked it. It seemed that work had not even begun on the wall on this side of the settlement, which made sense. Fortifying the western perimeter against the murluks attacks had to be the commander’s priority.
We crossed over into the countryside beyond with little ceremony. The flat, open plains were unexpectedly pleasant. Travelling in a single file—at Tara’s insistence—we waded through the knee-high grass.
The plains’ entire expanse was spotted with blooming flowers as far as the eye could see. And other than the many small birds winging through the air, it had no wildlife to speak of. It is beautiful, I marvelled. Mum would have been happy here, I couldn’t help thinking. I shooed away the thought. Beauty could be dangerous too, I reminded myself. Who knew what lay beneath?
On guard against being lulled into a false sense of complacency, I spent the few first minutes scanning the horizon, but as time went by and no threat presented itself, I relaxed. Deciding to trust the two sisters to forewarn us of danger, I turned my attention inwards. It was time to give further consideration to my magic.
The Trials Infopedia had been insistent that all the magic Disciplines could be self-taught without the aid of any spellbooks or trainers, albeit with great difficulty. Given the situation with the murluks, I had not risked trying to do so with dragon and life magic.
But if I could train the other magic Disciplines on my own—to the Trainee rank at least—it would save me a great many Tokens.
Reaching within myself, I drew mana into my mind and shaped it into a rudimentary construct of fire, or what I thought was the spellform of fire. With my fire magic Discipline only at level one, my understanding of it was crude—at best.
I started with fire magic, for obvious reasons. It was my hope that its similarity to dragon magic would make training the Discipline much easier. I willed the spellform in my mind into being, but it refused to materialise.
It’s not quite right, I thought. Let’s try this.
Time sped by as I toyed, twisted, and turned the mana construct, letting instinct and intuition guide me.
At one point, I sensed Tara speaking to me. For a split-second, I tore my attention away from the intriguing puzzle in my mind and let awareness of my surroundings seep back. But seeing as we were neither in danger or at the foothills yet, I waved off her question and returned to my study of the magic within me.
When the pieces in my mind finally began to slip into place, and my rudimentary understanding of fire expanded, the concepts I had been grappling with suddenly seemed so simple and self-explanatory that I was left wondering why they had taken me so long to grasp.
Your skill in fire magic has advanced to: level 2.
I smiled, pleased by my achievement. Now to do it again.
I had started to dive back into the depths of my mind, when I felt Tara shaking me with what seemed like unnecessary violence. “Jamie, goddamn wake up!”
Shocked out of my trance, I surfaced back into the present and looked around. A series of hills began a few yards in front of me. Marching off into the distance in ever-increasing heights, the hill’s rounded tops eventually expanded into the sheer rockfaces and jagged peaks of the mountain that edged the horizon.
“Oh,” I said in surprise. “We’re here.”
Tara smacked the back of my head. Hard. “We’ve been here for the last twenty minutes, you idiot! We had all but given up on you waking and were about to head back to the Outpost. Are you alright?”
I blinked. “Twenty minutes? Really?” I peered into her eyes. They were strained
with worry. “Sorry, I was training,” I said as contritely as I could manage. Reaching up, I rubbed the back of my head. It hurt.
“Training?” Tara asked with narrowed eyes.
“My magic,” I said, though I didn’t elaborate further. “But I am ready to continue.” I looked behind me. The others were sitting down, resting while they waited for me and Tara to finish. “We can go on now.”
“You sure you’re alright to continue?”
“I’m fine,” I said, waving off Tara’s concern. Stepping forward, I led the way into the hills.
✽✽✽
Tara did not let me stay in the lead, of course. But my gesture served its purpose, and a few minutes later the six of us were deep into the hills.
In stark constant to the green and vibrant plains, the hills were mostly dusty shale and rock. The sparse vegetation was uniformly brown and seemed to cling desperately to the unwelcoming soil.
We moved cautiously through the rolling hills. Made wary by Cassandra’s tale, all six of us were on guard. When a roar shook the air, I jumped.
The others froze. “Mountain lion,” murmured Laura.
“Will it attack?” I asked.
“Likely not,” she responded. “It’s no match for the six of us.”
“How far to the spiders’ warren?” asked Tara.
Cassandra pointed north. “The entrance is maybe thirty minutes that way. But I can’t be sure. We were never able to get close enough to pinpoint its location.” She paused. “We should ready ourselves for an ambush.”
“Alright, everyone, weapons in hand and eyes sharp,” Tara ordered. “From here on, we move in strict formation. No one break ranks.” Her eyes settled on me as she added, “For any reason.”
I nodded. The others drew their weapons. Michael and John wielded their long spears, Tara had her stabbing spear and shield, and the two hunters gripped their longbows. I strapped on my shield, but left my club holstered and kept my right hand free for casting.
We resumed our advance into the hills with Tara out front, the hunters and myself protected in the centre, and John and Michael bringing up the rear. With the possibility of an ambush high, the hills loomed even more ominously to my mind. Behind every boulder and in every shadowed slope, I imagined enemies. I rubbed sweaty palms dry. Where would the attack come from?
Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story Page 21
