Dragon Web Online: Dominion: A LitRPG Adventure Series (Electric Shadows Book 2)

by S. R. Witt

  Not to be cut short, Indira wagged a finger in my direction. “You don’t even understand. Listen, magic is everywhere. You know, like the Force?”

  Much like the Star Wars sequels pumped out by the Ghibli-Disney Cognate, the Force was everywhere, all the time. “It binds everything together,” I intoned in my best Yoda voice.

  “Right. So there’s all this magic out there, but it’s not doing anything. It just sort of blankets the world and waits for someone to do something with it. Go back to the Wi-Fi example. If you know the password, the formula for a spell, you can pull that energy into yourself and use it.”

  She was just irritating me now. “That doesn’t explain why you can’t just learn the words. If the magic’s always out there, it’s just waiting for the words to turn it on.”

  “In a way. But every person has an affinity for a different kind of magic. I’m good with elements, and so I can draw on that power. But I don’t have any affinity for enchanting, so I can’t pull a Jedi mind trick, even if I knew the formula. I can’t draw in enough power, even with the right password.”

  Between the argument raging between Havelock and Mercy, and Indira’s lecture, my patience was shot. “Do whatever you did to get Havelock to join us back in the tavern. Threaten him with raising your alimony payments. Whatever it takes. Get him on his horse.”

  The monsters were ahead of us. Maybe a long way ahead of us. Our only hope of catching them was getting on these horses and riding like crazy.

  If this stupid gnome wouldn’t get on his horse, we were screwed.

  Indira opened her mouth like she wanted to say something clever, but decided better of it when she saw how pissed I was getting. She put her heels to her horse and got it moving toward Havelock.

  “Keep her away from me,” he groused. “She’d like nothing better than to trample me.”

  “Then get on your horse,” I shouted. “You’re wasting time. We need to get moving.”

  The stables were outside Frosthold’s walls, but not by much. Adventurers returning from their time in the field gawked at the six of us as we prepared for our journey. If we stayed here much longer, someone who knew about the reward was going to show up, and then there’d be a fight. A big one.

  Cringer wobbled in his saddle. The dwarf was heavy and ungainly, pretty much the exact opposite of Havelock. He had the same concerns as the gnome, however, because it was a long way from his horse’s saddle to the ground. He watched the gnome with growing unease, and I knew I’d need to put that fire out before it raged out of control, too.

  I led my horse over to Cringer and rested my hand on his shoulder. “Hang in there. We’ll be on the road soon.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” the dwarf said. “I’m not good with this sort of thing.”

  “Just think of it as a ride in the park. It’ll be fun.”

  Not that I believed a word of that. The cold wind bit at my cheeks and nose, and the road ahead of us was covered in blowing snow. The map told me we’d have a few hours of easy-going, but then it was all cross-country, and I wasn’t looking forward to that part of the trip. The horses were tall, and their hooves were draped in thick fur, but I worried even they wouldn’t be able to forge through heavy snow drifts. There were so many unknowns ahead of us, so many variables I couldn’t calculate, I worried we were doomed before we started.

  “It’s not the ride, not really.” Cringer wouldn’t meet my eyes. He lived up to his name and flinched whenever anyone spoke to him, and he kept his head down hunched into his shoulders like he was afraid someone was going to hit him at any moment. “But I can’t abide violence. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

  “Me, either.” Whatever Cringer was afraid of, it went deep. I’d thought his whole pacifist shtick was just an act, some kind of ridiculous role-playing crutch. But that wasn’t it, at all. The poor guy just hated violence. “Keep your fingers crossed we don’t run into any trouble.”

  We both knew that was bullshit, but it was the kind of lie that kept the wheels greased and everyone from freaking out. I’d pretend I didn’t expect trouble, and Cringer would pretend this trip wouldn’t turn into a bloodbath.

  “They did it,” Cringer said. He pointed his finger toward Mercy and Indira.

  Sure enough, the gnome was in his saddle. He looked green around the gills and terrified, but he’d mounted up.

  There was no way I was giving anyone a chance to back out now. I spurred my horse forward and circled my arm over my head. “Move’em out,” I shouted.

  Our horses plodded forward, walking at a slow, steady pace. They lowered their heads into the wind and the rhythmic clip-clopping of their hooves became the soundtrack of our journey.

  We crested a hill not far from Frosthold, and I glanced back at the town below us.

  One way or another, everything was about to change.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  You know all those epic fantasy novels where the heroes embark on incredible journeys across enormous continents with excitement around every corner?

  They leave out all the boring parts.

  No one ever writes about how often you have to stop and rest your horses. Or how hard it is to find food for the damn beasts when there’s a foot of snow covering the ground. Or how much of a pain it is to pee in the weeds with frost blowing across your tender bits.

  In other words, they leave out all the parts that suck.

  And there was a lot of suck on our trip. For the first hour or two, we just plodded along the road. We passed adventurers going into town, and heroes leaving town passed us with rueful waves.

  It was like the horses knew they were in for a long haul and weren’t in any hurry to get going. If they had to march for a week, they’d damn well do it at their own pace.

  After we’d been on the road half the day, though, we stopped seeing anyone. The winter wind grew fiercer, and it found its way through every seam and crevice in our clothes and armor. Night fell, and we had to stop beside the road to build a fire and fill our bellies. The plan was to warm up, then get back on the road and ride until everyone had to log out.

  Indira was better than a blowtorch when it came to starting fires. Bastion and Mercy found some fallen branches in a nearby copse of trees and shook the snow from them. We kicked the snow off a patch of earth to serve as a fire pit and stacked the fuel in its center. With a grin, the elf aimed her hands at the wood and unleashed a torrent of flames. A few seconds later, we were all warming our fingers and toes beside a toasty campfire

  “Pretty handy,” Bastion said, real admiration tinging his words. He raked his fingers through his beard to dislodge chunks of melting ice. “How often can you do that?”

  “Start a fire? Pretty much as often as needed. More powerful spells, fireballs, that kind of thing, are harder. I can probably get off two or three combat spells before I need to rest for a few minutes. It just takes time for my mana to recharge.”

  We all grunted at her explanation, not wanting a deep dive into arcane theory.

  Our food was simple, and we didn’t even need the fire for it. Bastion had picked up iron rations during the shopping trip with Mercy and Havelock, and he handed a small waxed packet to each of us.

  Havelock and Cringer dug into their meals without hesitation, wolfing it down like it was a combination of the best cheeseburger they’d ever eaten and their favorite desert.

  My rations had a scrap of leathery meat and some kind of flat biscuit flecked with bits of dried greenery. It didn’t have any smell, really.

  Unconvinced it was edible, I took an experimental bite.

  It also didn’t taste like much of anything except salt, but it did take the edge off my hunger. A week of eating this might drive me crazy, though. I hoped we’d find something better along the way.

  “We should rest here,” Mercy said. We can’t make much progress in the dark, anyway, and we’ll be in trouble if we run into a fight while we’re exhausted.”

  Cringer and Havel
ock didn’t need to be told twice. They unrolled their blankets and curled up next to the fire without a word. Bastion and Indira both shrugged and dug their sleeping gear out of their saddlebags.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” I said. “Too cold for me to sleep, anyway.”

  “Wake me up in a couple hours,” Mercy said. She tossed her blanket on the ground next to Indira and nestled in. “Don’t fall asleep.”

  The truth was, I wasn’t tired. Being out here in the open countryside made me anxious. I was a city boy, born and bred, and of all this nature filled me with a mixture of awe and terror. Anything could be out there in the dark beyond our campfire. Rabid raccoons, wild dogs, real monsters. How could anyone sleep?

  But sleep they did. It only took a few minutes before they were all snoozing and I had to move away from the fire to hear anything over the sawmill buzzing of their snores.

  I knew they weren’t actually sleeping. The characters were resting, sure, but the players had just stepped away from the game to grab a sandwich, take a piss, drink a Coke. Time inside Dragon Web Online was objectively faster than time outside the game, so what felt like hours to me would pass much quicker for them.

  That was the theory, anyway.

  The night wind attacked me no matter which way I faced. It made my nose run and my eyes water. It howled in my ears so loudly I could barely hear myself think. Was I crazy for thinking I could endure days of traveling like this?

  Being a hero was kind of a pain in the ass.

  I found a little hill with a couple of trees for shelter and set up watch there. The campsite was visible from my post, and I had a better view of the countryside. Being away from the fire didn’t help the cold, but it did improve my night vision. Soon, the white blanket of snow resolved itself into patches of shadow and reflected moonlight. If anything approached us, I’d see it coming long before it got to the camp.

  But there was something else, too. A ruddy glow lit up the horizon. I’d thought it was the setting sun, but we were well past the time when that light should’ve died out. Whatever it was flickered. Like a candle…

  Or a fire.

  A very, very big fire.

  The map didn’t show a forest or anything else flammable and big enough to burn so brightly in that direction. I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t like it.

  I watched the distant glow for most of my shift, and it never got any larger or any closer. Whatever it was, it kept its distance, and that was all right with me.

  When the timer I’d set in the user interface beeped, I left the hill and headed down to the campsite to wake Mercy.

  She was already wide-awake and waiting for me. “See anything?”

  “There’s a fire or something way over there,” I said pointing in the general direction of the glow, “but it’s not getting any closer or any bigger.”

  “Hmm,” Mercy mused. “Nothing else?”

  “Nope,” I confirmed.

  I pointed out the hill I’d used to stand watch. “There’s a good vantage point over there. It’s away from the fire, so it’s kind of cold, but the trees will keep the wind off you, and you can see pretty well.”

  Mercy nodded. “You can use my sleeping roll if you want to. Should still be warm.”

  Then she left the camp, and I curled up in her blanket. There was no way I was going to spend any more time than I had to suffering with the cold.

  I set an external alarm to ring on my phone when my shift was over, or to alert me if anyone woke me up, and fell back into the World.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Screams welcomed me back to Invernoth.

  The horses were rearing and stamping, their breath billowing out of their flared nostrils in steaming clouds. Mercy’s voice rose above the havoc, a warning shriek. “Something’s coming!”

  Bastion was already on his feet and dragged me out of my blanket. He hooked an arm around my shoulders and pointed me at the camp's perimter. “Get ready!” He shouted.

  Cringer and Havelock were on the opposite side of the fire from me. The dwarf knelt next to the gnome, a golden holy symbol raised over his head. His prayers rose above the wailing wind and lifted my spirits.

  A soothing warmth fills your heart.

  You are blessed with the Miracle of Valor!

  Strength +5

  Dexterity +5

  Endurance +5

  Willpower +5

  Maximum Health: X2

  Duration: Persists while in range of prayer; 2 minutes thereafter

  Despite Havelock’s miracle, I was no good in a straight fight. I hoofed it away from the fire and into the shadows. My best attack was a sneak attack, and I need to time it just right to get the most bang for my buck.

  “There!” Mercy shouted and unleashed arrows into the darkness.

  My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, and the firelight was between me and her target. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard a shout of pain as her arrow found its mark.

  “Light!” Bastion shouted. “Indira, we need light!”

  The elf raised a hand to the sky and shouted a single syllable. The air throbbed with arcane power as a lance of blazing fire roared away into the night. It arced in the direction Mercy had shot her arrows and then burst overhead into an umbrella of coruscating brilliance.

  The light didn’t reveal my hiding place, but it did show me what we were fighting.

  I wish it hadn’t.

  Goblins swarmed over the snow like a greasy tide of overgrown cockroaches. Yellow eyes reflected Indira’s light and crude weapons sliced the air as they charged. There were dozens of them, maybe more, and they were pissed.

  I slid around the camp, drawing up on the flanks of our attackers. Bastion and Havelock surged forward, raising their weapons to meet the enemy, and giving Cringer and Indira room to work their magic without being pressured by foes on all sides.

  Mercy fired arrow after arrow toward the rushing monsters, knocking two more of them down before the battle was joined.

  The creatures screamed and swung their weapons at our warriors. There was no skill or style to their attacks, but there were so many of them it seemed like a wall of hacking blades had appeared out of nowhere.

  Havelock’s battle cry rose into the night like a spiraling hawk’s shriek. He deflected the blades of two goblins and kicked the legs from beneath another. He ripped the guts out of a third goblin with a vicious backhand swipe of his shortsword that almost cut the monster in half. Steaming black gore trailed the tip of Havelock’s weapon and stained the snow in an arc around him.

  I’ve got to ask these warriors how they get so many attacks in such a short time, I thought, irritated at the five-second limit imposed on my combat timer. My magic bracers helped even the odds, a little, but If I could get off a flurry of sneak attacks, I’d be unstoppable.

  Bastion’s burning blade carved through the night and drove his enemies back. The goblins stumbled over one another in their haste to avoid the blazing weapon, lowering their defenses and exposing their bellies. Bastion took advantage of their clumsiness, felling two of them with gaping wounds in their sides. The goblins’ eyes rolled back into their heads as their intestines unspooled into steaming piles on the red-stained snow at their feet.

  Despite our badass warriors, we weren’t winning this fight. Too many of the goblins were engaging, and there were even more in reserve waiting to join the fight. Even if they all politely piled onto Bastion and Havelock’s weapons, eventually the sheer mass of goblins would wear the warriors down. Or the goblins would figure out they could encircle us, and all attack at once.

  Another arrow from Mercy’s bow flashed through the night and punched through a goblin’s throat. The ugly little monster’s feet flew out in front of him, and he crashed to the snow with his hands clasped to the geyser of blood jetting from the wound.

  Bastion lopped the head from a goblin who got too close but took a savage wound to his left arm in return.

  Havelock darted and ducked ben
eath a flurry of attacks, but even his agility was no match for all the goblins bearing down on him. He cried out as a hooked blade ripped open the back of his leg and sent him scrambling back to avoid the goblins’ follow-up attacks.

  Finally, my stealth carried me unseen into the flank of our enemies where I could do some damage. My plan was simple—get in close, tear some of the nasty little bastards apart, and hope the mysterious attacks from the shadows rattled their buddies enough to give my buddies a chance to win this thing.

  Up close, the goblins stank of ashes and drying blood. Their skin was the color of dried snot and had a rubbery, slick sheen to it. One of the goblins was a little apart from the others, eyes scanning the darkness for enemies.

  He never saw me coming.

  I swept across the snow like a silent shadow, lunged forward, and drove a stiletto into the little bastard’s kidneys. My free hand clasped over its mouth, blocking its scream as I dragged my weapon up and across its spine.

  VERBOSE COMBAT MESSAGING ON

  UNARMED COMBAT (GRAPPLING) SKILL CHECK:

  Dexterity (20, +5 Miracle of Valor) + d100 (90) + Ambush (25) = 140

  vs

  Dexterity (12) + Evade (0 Surprised) + d100 (64) = 76

  Skill Check Result = 64

  Degree of Success = 4

  Opponent Immobilized!

  Attack Time: 5 seconds

  Stamina Cost: 1

  BRACERS OF THE STRIKING SERPENT ACTIVATED!

  Critical Hit!