Earth magic, rank II: Oil slick.
Telepathy, rank II: Psi wave, Mass sleep.
Supportive magic, rank II: Cure wounds, magic shield.
Spellcasting, rank II: Delayed casting.
Beast bond, rank I: Calm beast, beast bond, extend bond, enrage beast.
Body control, rank I: Mind-over-matter, boost speed.
Telepathy, rank I: Mind shock, confusion.
Telekinesis, rank I: Teleport (self), hold, teleport (object).
Air magic, rank I: Blend, truesight, shocking hands.
Fire magic, rank I: Flaming hands, fire dart, fire shield.
Water magic, rank I: Water armour, slippery ice, ice wall, freezing hands.
Earth magic, rank I: Barkskin, grasping roots, earth tremor, poison ward.
Supportive magic, rank I: Restore health (self), restore health (others).
Civilian abilities (4 AP available)
Nature lore, rank II: Woodsman, reveal beasts.
Travelling, rank II: Teleport rings.
Mage lord, rank II: Magister’s gift.
Commander, rank II: Invigorating aura, commander’s gift.
Scrying, rank II: Improved scrying.
Travelling, rank I: Show portals, travel (self).
Scrying, rank I: Show hostiles, basic scrying, detect scrying.
Nature lore, rank I: Show plants, gather plants.
Commander, rank I: Inspiring, shared sight.
Governor, rank I: Detect truth.
Mage lord, rank I: Channel essence, channel novice spells.
Equipped items
Heir’s mithril scale armour (32 armour, +8% commander).
Elven mageblade (35-40 slash damage, +8% longsword).
Bone shaman necklace (+2% earth magic).
Tamer's bracelet (+8% beast bonding).
Cilantria’s Wrath (+16.5% divine magic resistance).
Ring of free movement (immune to slippery ice).
Bracelet of simple mental protection (immune to confusion, terrify, sleep, charm).
Ring of advanced divine protection (+8% divine resistance).
Afterword
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Rohan
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Excerpt from the Dragon Mage saga
A new adventure begins this December in… Overworld, Book 1 of the Dragon Mage saga.
A magic apocalypse. Refugees from Earth. A new world. Elves, orcs, and dragons!
Portals from Overworld have appeared on Earth, and beings intent on inducting humanity in something called the Trials have invaded.
Earth is doomed. Humanity has been exiled. Can Jamie save mankind?
Jamie Sinclair, a young man with unique gifts, must find a way for his family and friends to survive Earth’s destruction, and build a new home in the dangerous Overworld.
But the Trials is no game. Will Jamie survive its challenges and be forged into something greater?
Join Jamie as he struggles through the brutal Trials, while wrestling with his new magics and Overworld’s game-like dynamics.
One man’s journey in a fantasy post-apocalyptic survival story mixed with LitRPG elements.
Chapter 1: The Day the World Changed…
“Jamie, come quickly. You must see this!”
Mum’s cry of alarm was muffled by the large headphones I wore, but even so, the sense of her distress filtered through my clanmates panicked voices over the team chat.
Our battle against the world boss was not going well. And now, it will go even worse, I thought as I surged out of my chair. But there was no helping it, mum needed me.
“Guys,” I said, breaking in through the team’s frantic chatter. “My mum’s in trouble. I gotta go.” I ripped off my headset. “What is it ma?” I shouted. Hurrying out of the room, I dashed into the lounge as fast as my gimped leg would allow.
“The news!” said my diminutive mother the moment I appeared in the cramped room.
The… news? I stifled a groan. Had I just abandoned my clan’s epic fight for the latest media craze? The guys are not going to let me live this one down. “It’s just the news, ma,” I said soothingly. “Bad stuff happens all the—”
Mum clutched blindly at my arm, her eyes never leaving the television screen. She hasn’t heard a word I said, I thought.
“Look!” she exclaimed as she pointed with a trembling finger at our battered telly.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to get back into the fight, not until I calmed her down. And besides, it was probably too late already. A man down, the clan must have wiped by now. I followed her arm—and blinked.
“…it’s the breaking news of the hour,” the news presenter was saying. “Ninety-foot-tall structures of unknown origin have appeared all over the world. Experts believe…”
The presenter’s words faded away as my attention was grabbed by the images on display. The newsfeed was filled with a closeup shot of one of the objects in question, in what appeared to be, New York central park. Expanding from the ground up, seemingly as if it had stood there for all eternity, was a most absurd and unnatural structure.
The artefact—what else to call it?—was formed of a silver metal with a blood-red sheen. Given the perspective of the background, I could tell the object was immense. But for all that, its design was disturbingly simple. Made of four metal pieces arranged in a rectangular shape, the artefact could have been mistaken for a window frame or doorway—if not for its size, and the strange substance it seemed to have been formed from. What is that metal? Some sort of steel?
I scratched my head in confusion. Was this a prank? Why would anyone create such an object, much less place it in the middle of a city? I patted mum’s hand comfortingly and slipped out of her white-knuckled grip. Hobbling closer to the television, I leaned forward for a better look.
I was wrong, I saw.
The artefact was not as simple as it appeared at first glance. The inside of the structure was not empty. Instead, it was filled with a near-translucent shimmering curtain of red. The crimson-touched metal borders were not as plain as I had originally assumed either. Inscribed on their surface, barely visible in the less than ideal resolution of the broadcasting, were flowing patterns that seemed to be writing of some sort.
Text that did not appear to be of earthly origin.
Frowning, I leaned back.
“What is it?” asked mum. Her voice was shrill as she shifted anxiously from foot to foot and stayed well back from the television.
“I don’t know, ma,” I murmured. It has to be fake news, I decided. I pulled out my phone and searched the web for corroboration while I listened to the broadcast with half an ear.
“…what do you make of it, Timothy?”
“I don’t know, Janice. This has to be a hoax, but with more than fifty confirmed sightings across the globe, it is a pretty elaborate one, not to mention expensive.”
“A hoax, Timothy? I can’t see that. I mean, the sheer scale of the resources required to pull off something like this… It beggar’s belief. And what would be the point?”
“I don’t know, Janice but what else could it be?”
“You don’t think then that there is anything to what some experts are saying? That these objects are not of earthly origin, and must be the work of aliens? Extra-terrestrials come to visit earth?”
“Aliens! Come on, be serious, Janice,” said Timothy, chuckling with amusement. “Even if there were aliens out there,” he said,
waving his arms vaguely above his head, “surely they would have smarter ways of initiating first contact than what is for all intents and purposes, big metal windows?” He shook his head disbelievingly. “No, the very notion is absurd.”
I tuned out Janice’s reply.
There was not much point in paying further attention to the newsfeed. It was clear the presenters were as clueless as I was. Yet as unbelievable as it sounded, the existence of the structures seemed indisputable.
The sighting of at least fifty-three of the artefacts had been confirmed by multiple sources from all across the world—just as Timothy had said. And while speculation was rife amongst internet pundits, bloggers, and forum-goers about the origins of the artefacts, no one was questioning the authenticity of the sightings. The existence of the structures, it seemed, was already accepted fact, even on the internet.
Theories abounded about the objects. Everything from the artefacts being the work of aliens, to the suggestion that the inscriptions were an ancient-form of Egyptian hieroglyphics, from the belief that the structures signalled the return of Atlantis, to the hypothesis that the objects were cleverly created illusions of the government.
I sighed. “I don’t know, ma,” I repeated, looking up from my phone to mum’s stricken face. I walked back to her and took her careworn hands, calloused and wrinkled from decades of back-breaking work, in my own, still smooth and unmarred by age. “Whatever those strange artefacts are, no one seems to understand their purpose. Yet.” I patted her comfortingly. “I am sure the government will figure it out soon.”
“What do we do?” she asked, still anxious.
I kept my own face impassive, careful not to betray my own concern both for her and the situation in the world outside. Mum’s mental state was precariously balanced most days, and with today’s shocking news, she seemed worse off than usual.
Life had taken a toll on her. Despite having almost no education to speak off, no family, a deadbeat husband, and one hungry kid to feed, clothe, and educate, she had succeeded in providing me with every opportunity she had missed.
Working two jobs—and sometimes three—funding my education had been her life’s work. And now at the age of twenty-four, a working professional, it was my turn to take care of her.
A task that I worried I was failing at.
Day by day, despite all the doctors and medication, mum’s condition steadily worsened. A form of dementia, the doctors called it. Give the meds time to work they said. She will recover, they said.
But it had been nearly a year now since mum had stopped working, nearly a year of endless medication. And her condition only seemed to worsen. I squeezed her hands. I could not afford to lose her now.
“Come sit, mum,” I said. “Let’s watch the news together. I’m sure that this will all turn out to be just a big mistake. A hoax,” I said quoting the presenter, Timothy.
But I did not believe it myself.
✽✽✽
If you enjoyed the excerpt and want to be notified when Overworld, Book 1 of the Dragon Mage saga is released, follow me here on amazon.com.
Coming December 2020!
Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 43