Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story

by Rohan M Vider

  The absurdity of one so young possessing such authority jumpstarted my brain. Of course. These are players. Ones who had apparently started with a Clean Slate.

  Both Hansen and the woman were likely much older than they appeared. The woman was scowling down at me. Whatever she saw, it did not please her.

  “Fresh meat,” answered Hansen with a grin I didn’t trust. Gesturing towards me, he said, “Tara, meet the new fish.” He turned to me. “New fish, meet Tara.” He hefted his spear. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, he is all yours, Tara. I’m off to join my unit. Bye.” Finishing in a rush, he dashed away.

  Tara’s head whipped up towards his retreating figure. “Hansen! Wait, you bastard!” Hansen didn’t wait; if anything, he ran harder, and straight towards the battling lines.

  Tara turned back towards me and ground her teeth in frustration. “Damn you, Hansen. I don’t have the time for this,” she muttered. Only then did she address me. Making no apology for her behaviour, she asked bluntly, “What’s your name, boy?”

  Bristling at her tone, I replied evenly, “I’m Jamie.”

  The green-eyed woman frowned down at me. “Well what are you doing just sitting there. Get up, we have to move!”

  I considered ignoring the order. I wasn’t happy with my treatment. But the shrieks of pain and roars of rage that continued unabated, reminded me that a very real life-and-death struggle was going on nearby, and now was not the time for foolish games.

  Sighing, I pushed myself to my feet, tottering only slightly as I did.

  Tara’s brows drew down together as she noticed my difficulty. “What’s wrong with your foot?”

  Before I could respond, she seemed to divine the answer for herself. Her gaze jerked upwards to my own. Whatever she saw in my face confirmed her supposition. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You didn’t choose a Clean Slate, did you?”

  I winced at her tone but only nodded mutely in response.

  For a second, Tara seemed to be shocked speechless but recovered quickly. “Damn young idiots,” she muttered under her breath. “You all think this is some sort of game.” She glared at me. “Jamie, listen closely. I don’t know whatever foolish notion made you enter this place like that”—she gestured towards my foot with her spear—“but you are stuck that way now. If you want to survive beyond today, you will do exactly as I say. Understood?”

  “I do.” And I did. As much as I wanted to defiantly throw Tara’s words back at her, common sense made me hold my tongue and swallow my pride.

  I was only minutes into my new life and I had no idea what was going on. If I was going to survive, I needed Tara and these people.

  And she knew it.

  Tara studied my face carefully for a long second. Satisfied with what she saw there, she nodded curtly. “Good. Follow me.”

  I limped to her side. Tara winced on seeing how much my foot hampered my movement. She shook her head again but didn’t say anything. The moment I reached her, she began walking away, her pace noticeably slower than when she’d first approached.

  For that she had my gratitude. Regardless of what she thought of me, the grim woman did not seem like she was going to abandon me.

  Ignoring the ongoing shouts and cries of the battle, Tara pointed towards the pile of junk that appeared to be our destination. It was heaped in front of the purple building. “Our first order of business is to get you a weapon and some armour. Not that we have much in the way of either,” she said, gesturing dismissively at her own leather rags. “After that, we join the defending line. Got it?”

  I nodded mutely again.

  “You can ask any questions you have as we go.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, pointing with my chin to the marble building of purple that appeared incongruous in the otherwise rustic setting of grass and trees.

  Tara followed the direction of my gaze. “That’s the dragon temple. It is what makes location seventy-eight a potential settlement. If we lose the temple, we can’t level up or establish a base here.” She pointed to the loosely strung line of men between the murluks and temple. “That’s why we defend it at all costs.”

  Ah, I have transitioned to the right location after all.

  I considered the rest of what Tara had said. From my research in the wiki, I knew the importance of the dragon temples.

  Levelling was how players advanced and got stronger in the Trials. After gaining a level, players were rewarded with Tokens and Marks, which could only be spent at a building like the one ahead. Without access to a temple, players in Overworld simply couldn’t get more powerful.

  Well, that wasn’t completely true.

  The wiki made it clear that players could still develop themselves outside of a temple. However, naturally acquiring the same knowledge and enhancements that were instantly gifted by the temple could take months to years—at least for anything beyond the Neophyte rank.

  What the advancement process in the temples entailed, I still wasn’t sure. But the temples themselves were crucial. If this one was lost, the players in the region would have no way of benefiting from their earned Marks and Tokens. Unless of course they survived the journey to the next closest temple.

  “What are the requirements for your settlement?” I asked.

  Settlements were not an arbitrary designation in Overworld. Unlike on Earth, where the term was loosely applied, in the Trials a location had to meet a host of requirements before it could qualify as a ‘settlement.’ Meeting the Trials’ criteria resulted in a host of benefits for its residents, and I was curious to know what these people still needed to establish theirs.

  “Securing the area, for one,” Tara said, shooting me a puzzled glance.

  Probably because my question is not the typical newbie one, I thought wryly.

  “But it is a bit more complex than that,” she continued. “We can discuss it later, assuming we survive today’s attack.”

  We reached the pile of discarded weapons and leather pieces. “Do you have any martial skills?” asked Tara.

  I shook my head.

  Tara’s face tightened, but she refrained from commenting. “Then grab whichever leather wraps look like they might fit, and throw them on. I’ll find you a spear. It’s the easiest weapon to use.”

  I glanced down at myself before moving to do as Tara ordered. I had transitioned into Overworld wearing only brown cotton pants, a shirt, and a pair of soft leather shoes that didn’t feel like they would survive long. I glanced at Tara’s feet. Her own shoes looked nearly in tatters. I sighed. It seemed good gear was in short supply here.

  I bent down and rifled through the rags. They smelled awful and looked suspiciously like the same equipment the frog creatures were wearing.

  Though I was no expert tailor myself, I could tell from the items’ appearance that their workmanship was crude. The leather armour seemed to be little more than half-cured hides that had been haphazardly stitched together.

  Returning with a second spear in hand, Tara saw my disdain. “They may not look like much, but the leather is sound enough to stop a murluk’s thrust from skewering you through.” She paused. “Assuming, of course, they strike the right place. Just try not to get hit through any of the gaping holes.”

  Alrighty, then.

  “Now stop wasting time,” she said, throwing the spear at my feet. “Get dressed and arm yourself.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, selecting the vest, leggings, and helm most likely to fit.

  All three pieces of equipment hung loosely off my frame, but they fit. Mostly. When I was ready, Tara began moving again. “Let’s go.”

  I trailed in her wake. We were not making directly for the battling lines, I saw, but instead headed towards its southern end. To take my mind off what was to come, I asked, “Why are we using murluk gear?”

  The black-haired woman grunted. “Noticed that, did you?”

  I shrugged; it had seemed obvious.
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  “We don’t have the right tools for our leatherworkers to fashion any of our own equipment yet,” answered Tara. “We’ve been forced to scavenge from the enemy.” Her voice grew contemplative. “In a way, we’re lucky the murluks found us. Otherwise we would be even worse equipped than we are now.”

  I glanced from Tara to the pile of junk we’d just left. It was a few feet high. “How long have you been fending off murluk attacks?”

  “Since day one,” she replied grimly. “The first two days were the worst. We lost so many.” She gave me a hard stare. “Remember, fish, this is no game.”

  I nodded sharply. I knew that already and didn’t need Tara’s reminder. Mum’s death had taught me more than I wanted to learn of Overworld’s savagery.

  The noise from the battle rose steadily as we drew closer. Tilting my head to the side, I listened carefully. Most of the noise was coming from beyond the murluks and men battling in front of the dragon temple, and seemingly from whatever the sloping ground hid from view.

  I frowned. Looking at the path Tara took, I realised that we were not heading to join the temple’s defenders as I had initially assumed, but were instead walking in a wide arc around them altogether.

  Where are we going? I wondered. I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could voice my question, Tara spoke.

  “This is a long spear,” she said. “You will stand in the second line of the wall and use your spear to thrust past me at the enemy. Always hold the spear with two hands, like this,” she said, demonstrating. “When you want to strike, thrust straight ahead and lean forward into the blow with your entire weight. Once you’ve landed a hit, make sure to retract your weapon immediately by pulling it straight back. Don’t just leave it there or you will lose your spear.

  “Thrust and pull. Nothing else. Keep your feet planted, and rinse and repeat. No fancy twirls, no slashes, no dodges, and no heroic charges at the enemy. Most importantly, make sure you keep hold of your spear. Don’t ever throw it. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said, clenching my spear. My pulse quickened and my heart thumped loudly as Tara’s instructions painted a vivid picture of the reality I was about to step into.

  “And whatever you do, stay one step behind me. Don’t move out of position for even a second,” Tara ordered. “If I advance, you advance. When I retreat, you do too.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

  “Alright, then. Buckle up, boyo, it’s time to do battle.”

  Chapter 12

  391 days until the Arkon Shield falls

  It is no secret that the Trials permanently accelerates a player’s learning rate of Neophyte Disciplines and Attributes beyond what is ‘natural.’ Yet, with the newcomer buff, the Trials does even more for players on their first day. While the buff is in force, a player can rapidly advance his Disciplines and Attributes to Trainee rank in a mere matter of hours. Don’t squander it. —Trials Infopedia.

  Just as I thought, we bypassed the line of clashing murluks and humans and reached the western end of the grassy plain. Beyond it, was a wide-flowing river that snaked off into the horizon both to the north and south.

  “That’s where we go,” Tara said, pointing to the river below.

  I looked where she gestured. We had stopped on the edge of the river’s upper bank. Below us, the ground angled sharply downwards to the river’s lower bank, which was a stretch of gently-sloping shore nearly thirty yards wide. Waves constantly slapped back and forth across it, turning the lower bank muddy and treacherous.

  Running north to south, all along the upper bank, was a line of rubble piled next to a shallow ditch. Excavations? I wondered, but only in passing. My attention was mostly focused on the near-deafening clash of weapons and the raging mass of men and murluks on the river’s shore.

  On the very edge of the river, wading through the frothing black waters, hundreds of men bellowed in anger as they pushed back against the flood of murluks emerging from the river’s watery depths. The creatures, still wet and dripping, flung themselves with reckless abandon at the human defenders.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. This is the true battle, I realised as I looked down at the chaotic scene. By comparison, the fight near the temple was only a small skirmish. I swallowed sudden nerves. And Tara means to take me down there.

  While I watched, thousands of murluks, slurping noisily and with bare feet slapping in the mud, beat against the thinly stretched defensive line of men. The human wall bowed and shifted, but did not break. Rallying to the bellows of their captains, the fighters surged forward and pushed the murluks back.

  The men did not pursue their foes into deeper water though. Instead, they snapped their line back into shape and reformed the wall along the river’s edge. There, they waited for the murluks’ next charge.

  Which was already building.

  Though hundreds of murluks had been cut down by the defenders’ manoeuvre, more of the frog-like creatures were surfacing from the river to take the place of their fallen. So many, I thought, staring in horror at the revitalised horde. How are the soldiers holding them back?

  If what the black-haired woman had said was true, then humanity had been battling the murluks since day one. How have Tara’s people held them at bay for nine days? My gaze slid to the woman by my side.

  While I was staring agog at the spectacle, Tara had apparently been assessing the battle. “The line appears weak on the right. They may not survive another charge.”

  The motion of two dozen men at the foot of the upper bank caught my attention. They had not been involved in the previous clash of murluk and men. Seemingly rested and fresh, the men were moving to take up position in the human wall.

  Tara gestured at the fighters. “John’s unit,” she said by way of explanation. “Going to reinforce the right flank, if I am not mistaken. And just in time too.” She nodded in approval. “Smart soldier. Come on, let’s go join them.”

  Tara leapt down the upper bank, heedless of the danger posed by the steeply sloping ground. Despite the desperate clash of weapons, it had not escaped my notice that Tara appeared fully at ease. The woman betrayed not the slightest hint of nerves at joining the battle.

  The same could not be said of me.

  I eyed Tara’s sure-footed dance down the slope and bit back a spurt of envy. Her pace was not anything I could match, even if I wanted to. Tentatively, I tested the soundness of the bank with my good leg. The hard-packed earth did not shift under my foot.

  I can manage this, I told myself. Stepping onto the slope, I followed in Tara’s footsteps.

  As I struggled down the upper bank, I kept a tight rein on my thoughts. What Tara and I were venturing into was nothing like my previous—and only—combat experience.

  I had been forced into the fight with the orcs. In that encounter, I had reacted instinctively and had little time to think.

  This was not going to be the same.

  This time I was walking willingly into conflict—even though I knew I was abysmally unprepared. My heart pounded and my mouth felt dry. Why am I doing this? I wondered suddenly.

  I wasn’t ready for this. I knew it. Tara knew it. So why was she leading me into battle? Because they need every man they can get, I answered myself. Their—our?—cause was dire.

  As much as the thought of the fight scared me, I couldn’t shirk away from it. Doing so would destroy what little trust I had earned from Tara. And for all the woman’s brusque manner, she had treated me fairly, far better than I had any right to expect. If I ran now, I would be branded a coward or worse.

  Despite my fear, I had to shoulder my responsibility and play my part. Wiping my sweaty palms dry, I limped resolutely in Tara’s shadow.

  At the bottom of the upper bank, Tara glanced back. Seeing that I followed in her wake, she nodded. “Good man.” Despite myself, I straightened, standing taller under her gaze.

  “Tara!” a voice called out, full of laughter and good cheer that
had no place on the blood-soaked river shore. “Have you come to join us? I thought you’d have left this misbegotten place already!”

  Turning my head, I saw that the speaker was a tall red-haired man at the fore of the men jogging to reinforce the lines. Despite the grimness of the battlefield, he looked as calm and relaxed as Tara.

  “Not on your life, John!” Tara yelled back with friendly wave.

  John chuckled and peered beyond Tara at me. “Who have you got there?”

  “New fish. I’ll look after him.”

  John’s face scrunched up in momentary uncertainty, his mask of joviality briefly slipping when his gaze dropped to my crippled foot. “You sure?” He shook his head. “Of course, you’re sure. You’re Tara. You’re always sure!” He guffawed again, laughing at his own joke.

  “Damn right, John,” replied Tara.

  My gaze was drawn to John’s unit, some of whom clenched their weapons with the same white-knuckled grip that I did. I realised then that the pair’s friendly banter was deliberate and only for the benefit of John’s men. I glanced at Tara. Unlike John, she betrayed no sign of hidden tension. Does she truly feel no fear?

  Further conversation broke off as John and his men raced the remaining distance to the line, slipping into the many gaps in its formation.

  Gaps left by their fallen comrades.

  I swallowed and averted my gaze from the dead soldiers lying abandoned where they had fallen in the churned-up muck. With the murluks readying for another charge, I knew Tara’s people did not have time to see to the fallen, yet somehow the dead’s vacant eyes seemed full of reproach while I limped passed them through the mud. Lifting my gaze, I saw that beyond the human wall the murluks had pooled together into new groups. Are they about to charge? I wondered.

  Tara stopped three feet away from the defenders and clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Remember everything I told you and you will be fine,” she said.

  Not trusting myself to say anything, I nodded mutely and followed her into the line. The men on either side made way for us. Tara, a step in front of me, was on my left. On my right was a freckled youth with ginger hair. He nodded at me. “I’m Michael.”