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

by S. R. Witt

  I separated the chains. There were five of them, all gold, all holding a single heavy charm. The charms were all capital Ts with smaller chains dangling from each side of the crossbar.

  The scales symbol of the Hoaldites. “You killed five of them?”

  She tapped her bow. “It’s easier if they can’t get close to you. Their bodies are scattered all over the place out there. It was too cold to dig graves, and I was too tired to hide them. Hopefully, the snow covers them before their buddies come looking for them.”

  I tried to hand the chains back, but Mercy shook her head. “Keep them. Maybe you’ll find some use for them. They feel like bad luck to me.”

  I sighed. “When I asked where you were, I didn’t mean…”

  But Mercy wasn’t listening to me. She flipped her hood up and crouched down on the far side of the fire, hiding her face in a veil of flame and smoke. I knew she needed to keep warm, but this seemed like something else. The chill emanating from her was more intense than the cold weather. Great. I was in the doghouse again.

  The chains were heavy and cold in my hand, and I distracted myself by examining one of them more carefully.

  HOLY SYMBOL: CHOSEN OF HOALD

  Object Class: Worn

  Object Power: 5,000

  Rarity: Epic

  Though Templars do not possess the ability to perform miracles, they are vessels of Hoald’s divine power. This symbol stores this divine power, which can be tapped into for spells or miracles.

  This object is currently not charged and contains no mana.

  Approximate Value: 200 gold pieces

  Nice. I wasn’t a spell caster, much less a priest, but this might come in handy later. And if it didn’t, I could always sell it back in town. A thousand gold wasn’t a fortune, but it would help. I dropped the holy symbols into my backpack for safekeeping.

  Cringer took this as his cue to give me a closer look. He tapped my leg with his cane then poked at my shoulder with his blunt, sausage-like fingers. “No pain?”

  I winced, but his tapping and poking didn’t hurt any worse than barking my shins on a coffee table would. “No, I’m good. Thank you for your help. Please don’t beat me to death with that stupid stick.”

  That was the extent of our conversation while we sat around the campfire in a vain attempt to warm our bones. We filled our bellies with the trail rations we brought, though even the protein and carbs from the jerky and dried biscuits didn’t do much to take the edge off our hunger. The protein-packed calories added fuel to our tanks, which was all we could really hope for at this point.

  We’d survived the attack by the Templars, but no one was happy about the fight. The experience points we’d earned was great and all, but if we had to add the Church of Hoald to the list of people trying to kill us right this very second, it was a bit much.

  Maybe people just needed a break; we’d been on the road for 12 hours, which was a little over less than two and a half hours in the World. A little food, something to drink, would do everyone good. Plus, if they weren’t logged in I wouldn’t have to look at their sour faces while they contemplated every bone-headed decision I’d ever made. I cleared my throat to get their attention. “Why don’t you all log out for an hour or so, get something to eat, use the bathroom, whatever you need to do.”

  Mercy was the first to go, giving me a short nod of agreement, then closed her eyes, and leaned back from the fire. A red AFK sign lit up over her head.

  Indira turned up her pert elven nose at me. “You really hurt her feelings.”

  The rest of the guys had nothing to say to that, but all of them suddenly had more interesting things to look at than Indira or me. Bastion stared at the toes of his boots, Cringer fiddled with his walking stick, and Havelock whistled tunelessly and checked out the stars visible through the gaps in the tree limbs overhead.

  “I was just asking where she was. I was worried that—”

  Indira snorted. “She thinks you don’t trust her. After she saved our lives by picking off more than half of the Templars, who were after you, I’m pretty sure, you accused her of cutting and running.”

  That was a bit too far. I hadn’t accused anyone, of doing anything. “I did not. I just asked where she’d been.”

  Indira flicked her blond curls over the shoulder of her feathered cloak. “It isn’t what you said, it’s what it meant.”

  Then the red AFK sign floated over her head, and I was left more confused than ever. “Any of you guys have any idea what the hell she’s talking about?”

  Cringer cleared his throat. “I think it’s a girl thing.”

  Bastion snickered at that, but he didn’t offer any more solid advice. “Just figure out how to make Mercy happy when she gets back. I don’t want half our group pissed off at you when we go toe-to-toe with Corvus and her buddies.”

  And then Bastion was gone, too.

  Havelock, more relaxed now that Indira was gone, sat down next to me and extended his short legs toward the fire. “The thing about women is, they don’t speak the same language as men. I mean, the words are the same, but they don’t hear the words. They hear something else. Also, stop staring at Indira’s ass, or there’s going to be a problem.”

  I gawked at his accusation, but he winked and logged out before I could protest. Little bastard.

  A few minutes after everyone was gone, Cringer cleared his throat. He sat across the fire from me, between Mercy and Bastion, and started talking. “What I said back there? I meant it. I can’t fight.”

  This again. I raised a hand to cut the dwarf off before he could dive into some deep philosophical discussion about how fighting was a sin or a crime against nature or some shit. “Look, I agreed to bring Havelock along, so you don’t have to worry about that. Just try to stay out of the way, and don’t get caught in a battle, and we should be okay.”

  The dwarf fidgeted in his seat for a few seconds, chewing on his lip. Finally, he spat out his real problem. “It’s not what you think. I honestly can’t fight. Like, I can’t.”

  Something was troubling him, I could feel it. He wanted to let it all out, and I figured I might as well help him unburden himself. Going into a battle, even a virtual one, with unresolved issues was likely to get someone killed. Given my propensity for taking injuries that put me at death’s door, that someone might just be me.

  I suppressed a sigh and asked the question I knew would uncork the emotions bottled up inside our pacifist healer. “Why?”

  He stared into the fire so long I wondered if his connection had gone on the fritz. Finally, he turned his attention back to me. “I’m not sure where the rest of you are from, but, where I live, things are pretty grim.”

  That was the kind of statement you had to take with a grain of salt. It was pretty grim everywhere. The world was coming apart at the seams in far too many places. The United States, for all of its centuries of relative peace, was in constant turmoil and had been for the past fifty years. Between the food riots, the California Exodite Rebellion, and straight up terrorist attacks on government buildings over the past few years, the glory days of the Union were far in its storied past.

  Still, it was worse for folks in a lot of other places, and the Petroleum Wars had torn some countries completely apart. “I hear you.”

  Cringer eyeballed me for a few minutes, and I knew he was trying to figure out where I lived. I hoped he didn’t want to get into a big discussion of our backgrounds.

  That was always uncomfortable when you were dealing with people online. Some players only felt comfortable around others of their particular nationality or race. Others divided people by economic lines or based on sexuality. Why people chose to categorize others the way they did is something I could never figure out. Nor did I want to start puzzling over it. Most of us who spend a lot of time online know it’s better to just not talk about our real selves. We let each other assume whatever we like about ourselves, and leave it at that.

  Hell, the game made it impossible t
o tell anything about the other players. You might be able to pick up a little bit of an accent, like Cringer’s hard consonants and pauses, but it wasn’t enough to figure out where anyone was from or anything else about them.

  Cringer rubbed his beard for a moment and then said. “I really hope you don’t understand. But, just—look. This is kind of a safe place for me. Invernoth is where I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Where I can witness the violence without having to cause it.

  “I like you, Saint. I believe in what you’re trying to do. So I’m going to help you. But I can’t ruin this for myself. I hope you understand.”

  Something in his words told me our conversation was over. There was a cold edge to what he said, like a cleaver chopping each sentence off before I could form a reply. Whatever motivated Cringer was beyond me, but it was as real and as powerful as my mother’s disease. He was driven by something no one else could ever understand.

  I respected his feelings, even if I didn’t understand them. Somehow, I knew, Cringer was going to be the death of one of us.

  But I wasn’t about to reject one of my very few allies, even if he was more damaged than me.

  He threw me a faltering wave, like he wasn’t sure how he should say farewell after dropping a ten megaton truth bomb on me, then closed his eyes and logged out. The AFK placard over his head glowed like a frozen ember.

  I watched my friends sleep, and tried to think of how I could keep them from running for the hills when they got a good look at what we were up against.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  The morning sun rose, and I still didn’t know how to break the bad news about what we were up against to my companions. In the end, I said nothing, despite Mercy’s constant mumbling and clearing of her throat.

  An hour after everyone else had returned from their break, the five of us stood at the crater’s edge and stared into its gloomy depths. No one said anything for long minutes, and the wind’s chill wasn’t the coldest thing I felt.

  Indira broke the silence. “That is not some minor dungeon. It’s the size of a city block. I can see at least twenty guards from where we’re standing, and I don’t even want to think about how many are inside.”

  She was right, though I held out a faint hope that the guards we saw were the only guards we’d face. This was a low-level quest. There’s no way the devs would make it impossible for players to complete.

  Right?

  It was time to tear off the bandage and see who would stick it out and who would tell me to fuck myself and bolt. “There’s more bad news. Mercy and I found a camp last night.”

  I hoped they’d put the pieces together, but the rest of my companions said nothing.

  Mercy finally put me out of my misery. “The camp belonged to Corvus. She beat us to the punch.”

  That brought out the frowns I’d expected. “Before any of you make any rash decisions, I’ll give you the rest of the bad news.”

  Everyone followed my pointing finger with their eyes. The guards down there loped along with an animal grace that belied their true nature. Their reversed knees were apparent even at this distance. “Those guards are wargrai. I’m betting they’re Jarissa’s buddies.”

  Havelock cleared his throat and shifted in his saddle. “I guess that’s it, then. I mean, there’s no way we’re going down there. Look at that mess. We wouldn’t get halfway to the temple before one of those wolf people spotted us. And then what?”

  Bastion smiled at Havelock. “Then you’ll do what you’re paid to do. Fight.”

  Havelock scratched at his sparse beard and went back to eyeballing the opposition in the crater.

  Indira let out a long sigh. “I hate to admit it, but Havelock may have a point. There are a lot of guards down there. The place is huge. We could wander around inside it for days and not find what we’re looking for, even if we didn’t have enemies to contend with.”

  The gnome winked at his ex-wife. “I knew you’d have my back, sweet cheeks.”

  Indira frowned, and a spark of fire erupted from Havelock’s beard. He yelped and smashed out the flames with both hands, bloodying his lower lip in the process.

  Cringer puffed on his pipe for a moment and then jabbed the stem toward the wandering wargrai. “Our archer took out five Templars. What do you think those archers down there will do to us? We’ll look like pincushion’s long before we reach the temple. I believe in your quest, Saint, but unless you can show us another way I have to side with the gnome.”

  Great. My last rousing speech had brought them all on board, but they’d already lost their spines.

  Mercy shrank deeper into her cloak. Everyone stared at her, but no one said anything. As much as Indira and I jockeyed to position ourselves as the brains of this outfit, Mercy was its undisputed heart.

  Finally, she eased back in her saddle and rescued me. “I think we can do this. We’ll have to be careful, but I think there’s a way. I’m with Bastion and Saint.”

  I stifled a sigh of relief. I had my tie vote, but I still needed to convince the others. Fortunately, I had an ace in the hole. I knew how to get to the Temple without being murdered.

  “Look,” I said. “There’s a pattern to the guard patrols. One wargrai goes from that rock there to the next rock, and the next. Then he makes his way around the side of the temple. Two minutes later another wargrai does the same.

  “None of the guards at the Temple can see the far sides of those rocks, which is why the guards cover it with their patrols. We have a two-minute gap to slip between the guards.”

  “Okay. You can get us to the Crumbling Temple. Let’s say your plan works, and none of us trips or makes enough noise to attract attention while we’re sneaking around.” Havelock squinted at Bastion as he said that last part. “What do we do once we get inside?”

  Bastion leaned over the horn of his saddle. “Then Saint will come up with a new plan. You can’t expect him to lay out everything before he even sees what we’re up against. Enough chatter. Let’s do this.”

  All eyes turned toward Indira. If Bastion was my biggest cheerleader, she was my most ardent critic. Her eyes bored into me as she weighed our odds. “You really think we can do this?”

  My most winning smile didn’t even make a dent in her frown. “We can do this. It’ll be close, and it will be tricky, but we can do this. We have to.”

  She brought her horse up alongside mine and held out her hand. “Then I’m in.”

  I took it.

  She leaned in close, and whispered, “But you damn well better remember our Life Oath if we find anything good in there.”

  With a grinning confidence I didn’t really feel, I turned back to the rest of the party and raised my first into the air. “All right, folks. Let’s go save Frosthold!”

  And try not to die, I thought to myself.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  We walked our horses back from the crater’s edge and looped their reins around thick tree branches. It was a small gesture, but it gave me hope the others thought we’d be back this way to collect our noble steeds. With the mounts secured, we crept down into the crater.

  The sloping path from the crater’s rim to its floor was more treacherous than I’d anticipated. Though the gusting wind kept the wide surface swept free of most debris, the same wind had created patches of difficult-to-spot black ice on the stone.

  Mercy and I led the way, leapfrogging past one another so there was always one of us scouting ahead and another guiding the rest of the group around dangerous spots. It slowed us more than I liked, and added a new problem to my plan.

  “You think this is going to work?” Mercy asked, worry creasing her brow.

  I didn’t respond at first. At this distance, I doubted the guards had any chance of noticing us. There were a few hundred yards between them and us, and the snow blowing over the crater’s rim hid our path behind a veil of swirling snow. But that same wind and blowing snow made our task more difficult.

  DEXTERITY
CHALLENGE

  Rating: Very Difficult (70)

  The snow and ice make this next stretch of terrain very dangerous. If you are able to navigate it without falling, you can guide your companions safely across.

  If you fail, however, you may fall, and any of your companions attempting to cross this section of dangerous terrain will have to overcome the Dexterity Challenge or risk falling.

  Thanks for the warning, game. If the difficulty was 70, and it was a straight Dexterity challenge, then I’d need a roll of at least 56 to succeed. Anything less and I risked falling a hundred feet or more to the bottom of the crater. I’d never survive that.

  But if I pulled this off, then we were in the clear. Being the brave hero was getting on my nerves. “Wait here,” I called back to the rest of the party. “There’s some ice on the path, and I don’t want anyone falling.”

  The rest of the party froze behind Mercy, eyes wide as I started creeping across the dangerous stretch of ice. It’d really suck to come this far only to lose to Corvus because of a slip-and-fall accident.

  The game let me get ten feet down the path before it pulled the trigger on the skill check. My feet slipped on the ice-rimed snow, and I bit my tongue waiting to see how this would shake out.

  DEXTERITY CHALLENGE RESULT

  Dexterity (15) + d100 (74) = 89

  vs

  Challenge Difficulty: 70

  Challenge Result = +19