Trial by Fire: A LitRPG Dragonrider Adventure (Archemi Online Chronicles Book 2)
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Dyslexic: The written word is something of a mystery to you. Books take longer to read, and all language-related skills gain -5% slower.
Natural Leader: You have a natural inclination to take charge. Social skills increase 2% faster when engaged in leadership activities.
Endurance: You are becoming accustomed to pushing yourself, even when you are exhausted. You may spend adrenaline to offset starvation, fatigue, or bleeding for +1 minutes x your Stamina.
Mark of Matir: This may convey special abilities at higher levels. When the Mark is activated, it will drain health from enemies on a critical hit. HP regained is equal to remaining AP + Will bonus. 300 second cooldown. You are immune to undead fear effects. – 500 Infamy in places hostile to worship of Matir.
=Path Abilities=
Doubletap I
Jump II
Bluster II
Shadow Dance II
Whirlwind Butcher I
Blood Sprint II
Chain: Blood Storm I
(New!) Umbra Burst I
=Gifts of Matir=
Fury Drain: When your HP falls below 20%, you can drain 10 HP per good hit from a single enemy (Cost: 5 AP. Cooldown: 10 sec).
Blessing of the Raven: You call on your power and gain increased insight into knowledge and skills. +10% Skill EXP for 45 min.
Life for Life: Channel a blast of damaging dark energy into your enemy and drain their lifeforce to replenish your own. Inflicts Corruption debuff.
=General Skills=
Riding 15
Riding Specialization (Dragon) 1
Navigation 9
Stealth 9
Negotiation 6
Intimidate 10
Survival 16
Acrobatics 12
Acrobatics Specialization: Freerunning 8
=Crafting Skills (Common)=
Foraging 15
Improvise Shelter 13
Alchemy 7
Herbalism 10
=Crafting Skills (Advanced)=
Potion Creation 4
[You have 3 unspent Ability Points!]
[You have 3 unspent Skill Points!]
[You can select 1 Gift of Matir!]
[New Knowledge!: Gifts of Matir B!]
Since we were on the ship and not having encounters, I’d hung onto my Skill Points to think about how I wanted to invest them. I’d already maxed out Herbalism and Alchemy without an instructor, so I couldn’t spend them on my favorite skills. I planned to hold onto my points until I reached Taltos and could find someone to teach me Intermediate Potion Creation. I’d actually forgotten about the Ability Points. I couldn’t take any new combat abilities at Level 9 – probably why I’d forgotten – so I quickly assigned them to three of my combat abilities: Blood Storm, Whirlwind Butcher, and Shadow Dance.
Gifts of Matir were related to him having chosen me as his champion. Being Matir’s champion was kind of annoying, because it meant that I got shoehorned into some quests - like the Myszno one - but it came with perks in the form of bonus powers. I got a small selection every four levels. Fury Drain was an ability I’d gotten when I first met Matir; at Level 5, I’d gotten to pick two powers. At Level 9, I was allowed to pick one.
Swallowing against the nauseating fear, I pushed the HUD to the side, then stepped forward and rolled into a beam handstand on the ship’s railing. The ship bounced just as I got vertical, and for a crazy moment, I thought I was about to topple off the side… but I bent my arms, and held the position. Sweet, sweet adrenaline washed through my body, and I grinned madly as I swiped my HUD back in. Upside down.
I checked out my new knowledge first. It was a short update to my previous Gifts of Matir Archemipedia entry. It upgraded my knowledge from C-grade knowledge to B-grade:
Gifts of Matir (B-Grade Knowledge)
Gifts of Matir are powers bestowed upon you by the draconic god of Darkness, Matir. His dual nature gives you access to two branches of Gifts: The Gifts of Life and the Gifts of Entropy. Gifts of Life enhance your abilities, heal disease, and combat the undead. Gifts of Entropy ravage and destroy your enemies, but may physically corrupt you and those on whom you use the abilities. Choose carefully, and use your powers wisely! Gifts of Matir are permanent and cannot be changed.
“Hmm.” Curious, I had a look at my current Gift abilities with this new information in mind. Fury Drain and Life for Life, which both sapped vitality from enemies, were Gifts of Entropy. Raven’s Blessing, which gave me +10 Skill EXP for 45 minutes, was a Gift of Life.
“Probably best to keep this shit balanced.” As the ship bucked, I folded down from the handstand and back to the deck, then had a look at what was offered for Level 9:
Close the Wound (Life)
You draw on your own raw lifeforce to heal another’s injuries.
Heal other player/NPC 50 HP per sec while ability is active.
Cost: -30HP and -10AP per sec.
Suppurate (Entropy)
You channel dark power into a person’s wounds, destroying the body’s ability to heal and causing their injuries to fester.
Cost: 20 AP + 10 HP.
Damage: 120% + 5% max HP per hour until enemy receives treatment for infection.
+1% chance to cause Blood Poisoning per 5 Levels.
Inflicts Corruption debuff 15m (Target).
Bury the Dead (Entropy)
You can strike incorporeal targets with a normal, non-magical weapon.
Duration: 30 seconds.
Cost: 25 AP.
Spider Climb I (Life)
You gain the ability to climb and travel vertical surfaces, crawl across ceilings, and hang on walls. Level this ability to extend duration.
Duration: 20 seconds.
Cost: 30 AP.
“Spider Climb.” I selected it without hesitation. Didn’t even have to think about that one. It was a great ability for someone who was destined to fly – an ability that could one day mean the difference between life and death.
The Mark burned cold on my skin for a moment, sending shooting thrills of ice through my veins, and with it came the knowledge of how to do the Spider Climb maneuver. I reached out and grasped the ship’s railing. I felt shards of dark energy gather on my palms and the pads of my fingers. They dug into the wood like a glove of tiny claws, and when I flexed my hands, the tendons in my arms, wrists, and shoulders contracted like steel cables. Awesome: I was a tarantula now. Or perhaps… a Hecturantula.
“Hector! I did it! And I caught a seagull!” Karalti’s voice broke through my focus. I turned as she swooped down, panting around the twitching carcass of the unfortunate bird. “And I saw land! Did you see me fly?”
“Of course I did.” I rubbed the top of her head, which now came up to my navel when she stood on her back legs. “How far away from land are we?”
“I ‘unno. Maybe five miles? It’s on the other side of the ship.”
I checked my mini-map, and saw that she was correct: we were only ten minutes or so from making landfall. I nodded, then crouched down and smiled at her. “So… want to know a secret?”
Karalti cocked her head. “What?”
“I didn’t tell you the truth about something,” I said, pointing at the backpack. “That pack? It doesn’t weigh thirty pounds. It weighs forty pounds… and look what you did. You did your exercise and caught a seagull. You did it with ten more pounds than you thought you could handle. How amazing is that?”
Karalti dropped the dead bird on the deck, and blinked several times. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“You already thought you weren’t going to be able to train with thirty. But that struggle? It’s all up here.” I tapped the side of her head. “Any time you think you’ve maxed yourself out, you’ve only really given fifty percent of what you’re capable of. I hated the Army, but I learned that bit of wisdom there… and as much as I hate to say it, they were right.”
“Whoa.” Karalti looked down, then butted at my hand affectionately. “That’s deep.”
“
Yep. Anyway, we better go pack up. Also, it’s potion day today. Are you okay with me doing a blood draw?”
“Sure!” Karalti happily trotted ahead of me. We both knew that my health and our bond required me to drink a potion made from her blood, but I always asked her permission anyway. “My strength went up! And so did my flying, and my stamina, and…”
The recipe for the Dragon’s Blood Elixir that my mutated body required to keep running had fortunately just appeared in my Recipes after I’d imprinted Karalti. The unfortunate part was that the ingredients were expensive to buy, and the potion itself was moderately complicated to make. I didn’t mind that much - Alchemy was fun, and I’d been able to gather small amounts of the herbs I needed in Ilia. I could only hope the plants also grew in Vlachia.
FIrst up was the [Saturated Aqua Regia] I needed for the potion base. This was a mix of three parts hydrochloric acid to one part nitric acid, which made aqua regia, and then - wincing the entire time - I added a single gold coin to it. That turned the mixture bright orange, which meant I could add the other ingredients: [Serpent Lily x 2] and [King’s Grass x 1].
I assembled the acid and herbal ingredients into a flask, corked it, then took it over to Karalti while she preened and primped. Once I had the blood drawing tools ready, she paused, offering her wrist to give me access to the vein we used for this vampiric ritual.
“Little pinch.” I warned her, just before I slid the curved needle in.
Karalti barely flinched as her highly pressurized, vivid blue blood sprayed into the collection bottle. She hummed under her breath, tail flicking. When I drew it out and put pressure on the small wound, she gazed stoically out the window. When her chest swelled with a gasp, I jumped. “What?”
“Outside! Look!” She lifted her head on her long neck and weaved her head, a motion she made when she was focusing her eyes on something in the distance.
I capped the bottle and made sure the bleeding had stopped before I stood up and followed her gaze. And then I smiled. A great city was on the horizon, its glittering gothic spires rising into the sky. Behind it the city loomed an enormous volcano: the cone was clearly visible, wreathed with clouds, and the slopes were heavily forested.
“Yep. That’s a city. It’s where we’re headed.” I sat back down, and swirled the potion base until the reagent had completely digested the rest of the ingredients, turning the liquid a rich golden yellow. I poured the blood into that mixture. The liquid frothed as it mingled, turning green, then brown, then colorless as the acid was neutralized and transmuted by the dragon’s blood. The result was a clear, thick potion with an eerie blue glow.
Dragon’s Blood Elixir
Magical Item
+5 Adrenaline Points for 1 week.
Sleep restores Fatigue at an accelerated rate for 1 week.
Relieves the Blood Pact debuff for 1 week.
Value: Cannot be sold in stores.
Special: Must be consumed immediately after brewing; no storage possible.
Karalti bustled over to the window. “What’s the city like? Is it like Bryos? Are there things to hunt?”
I uncorked the potion and sniffed the contents. It smelled vaguely herbal and sharp, like bottled lightning. I was vaguely disturbed by just how much I wanted it, because my hands shook a bit as I put it to my lips and threw it back. It hit my stomach with a rush of heat and color and pure, unadulterated relief. The weekly timer reset, and the tension that had been building in my body suddenly released. I sat back on the bed with a sigh. “There’s plenty to do there, Tidbit. We’re going there to find a murderer.”
“Do you think I can get strong enough to eat him?”
I snorted. “We’ll see.”
Chapter 6
The scene that greeted us at the Taltos skyport was that of armed chaos.
We arrived in the early evening, and the area around the docks teemed with travelers - a very large number of whom were non-humans. Elf-like Lysdian, the cat-like Meewfolk, and cliques of masked, hooded Mercurions milled around in crowds, marched up gangplanks onto creaking old airships, or got into shouting matches with soldiers from behind barricades. Some people were clearly leaving. Others were stuck behind temporary fences that kept them from leaving the docks. Some were crying, others simply staring. Parents comforted wailing children.
“What the hell is going on down there?” I asked Kirov, leaning on our ship’s railing.
The tattooed knight stroked the end of his moustache. “I am not certain, but… well. Brother Orban was found in the public gardens. The Volod… hmm.” Kirov scowled thoughtfully as he trailed off.
“Hmm?” I lay a hand on Karalti’s wedge-shaped head.
“My guess is that the Volod must have issued that decree he was ‘discussing’ with the Holy Forgemasters.” Kirov scratched the thick stubble coming in on his cheeks. “Brother Orban was murdered while he was serving in the Meewfolk ghetto, as I believe we mentioned. When I left, His Highness was talking about a decree to ban all non-human travelers from entry to Taltos. Not a bad idea. Those females might have a litter of six kittens, and who’s going to feed them? Clothe them? Their menfolk don’t work.”
“Stereotypes ahoy.” I scowled, watching a lanky Meewfolk woman console a pair of young kittens while a guard shouted behind her from the other side of the fence. “Come on, man. I expected better of you.”
Kirov’s expression darkened for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Eh. You’ll see how it is here. The Meewfolk bring nothing but filth and mummery wherever they go. At least the silverskins set up workshops and make watches and carriages.”
“Can’t say I like what you’re saying,” I replied. “People used to say that kind of shit about my family.”
“Ah, but you were not born to a family of alley cats.” Kirov ruimbled with a deep belly laugh, then slapped me on the back. “Come, don’t trouble yourself. And - oh, look, speaking of carriages. Down there.”
He was pointing at a fine, gold-decorated carriage waiting for us at the end of the wharf. Instead of horses, it had a spinning, glowing mana engine showcased in crystal, a smaller version of what was powering our airship. I grunted. “Fancy. Is that the King?”
“No. His Majesty must have sent his illustrious carriage to collect us.” Kirov jerked his head toward the entry to the below-decks. “Go, get your beast. We’ll need you to help clean a path through this mob, eh?”
From fantasy dictatorship to virtual racism: fantastic. Shaking my head, I went to collect Cutthroat.
My hookwing was drinking from her bucket, sucking her cheeks in to draw the water up along her tongue. As soon as she sensed me, her head reared up. She sighted down at me, golden eyes narrowing with menace. The intimidating effect was somewhat offset by the fact that the tip of her tongue was still sticking out the end of her muzzle. Blep.
“I know, I know. My fluffy little murderbutt’s all pent up.” Before I even opened the stable door, I got within range and re-equipped her [Iron Muzzle] from my Inventory.
“SCREEEEE!” When the muzzle materialized on her face, Cutthroat swung her head and bashed it against the side of the doorframe, splintering the wood. I winced, but I’d become something of a vicious dinosaur expert these last few weeks. Before I’d hit Ride 10, I’d only been able to directly equip her muzzle and reins. Now that I was an Apprentice rider, I could equip all of her tack without going through the physical motions of putting on the blanket, then the saddle, then the cinch and saddlebags. I equipped them all. When they appeared on her body, she hissed and lunged at the door, bashing her muzzle into it and sending it flying out at me. I dodged like a flamenco dancer and caught her by the reins.
“That’s right, girl. Time to go and oppress us some cat people.” Dodging her strikes, I led her forward. Dark humor aside, the notion of oppressing the Meewfolk actually made me feel kind of sick. If the Volod was the kind of man to punish a whole species just because a guy was kidnapped from the place that species was supposed to live, I already didn�
��t like him. “Why are humans such dicks to everyone, Cutthroat?”
Drooling through the bars of her muzzle, Cutthroat growled and tried to bite the back of my head.
“Because we’re nihilistic voids of pointless rage, fear, and ignorance, huh? Sounds about right.” I led her up to the deck, absently weaving from side to side to dodge her snout as it darted forward over my shoulders.
Karalti was still clinging to the ship’s railing with her hind feet and wing claws, and cocked her head as I led Cutthroat toward the gangplank. There was no way I was getting onto my mount’s back and riding her down to the wharf - she’d throw me off into the ocean and roar with triumph as I tumbled to my doom. “Okay, Tidbit. Time to play turret.”
“Oki!” The little hatchling launched herself into the air and landed on Cutthroat’s rump. The hookwing’s growls turned into a high whistling screech, like a tea kettle. She swung her head around to hiss at Karalti as the dragon found her usual riding place just behind the saddle. Karalti flared her horn stubs and pulled her lips back over her fangs, leering back at her.
“Cut it out, ladies.” Exasperated, I led Cutthroat across the gap between the ship and the dock. I mounted only once we were safely on land. Kirov and Matthias followed, along with a foppish man dressed in splendid black and red silks. He blanched when he saw us.
“Ready?” The knight’s moustache bristled as he surveyed us. “This herald has informed us that we are to be taken to the morgue so that Matthias may view the remains of Brother Orban. Cremation is customary here, but the Volod’s new investigator demanded that the body not be burned.”