Dragon Seed: A LitRPG Dragonrider Adventure (The Archemi Online Chronicles Book 1)

by James Osiris Baldwin

  Baldr shrugged, keeping an eye on the road. “The family I… my character was born into is kind of a big deal in the Council. So are the Skyrdon, for that matter.”

  “How the hell’d you get into a noble house when you signed up to the game?” Casper called out from behind us.

  Baldr chuckled. “Funny story, actually. Ryuko wanted soldiers for their emergency beta testing, right? So one day, every sick bastard from the 101st is pulled into a big meeting, and we’re told that there’s a lottery to join up with the beta. They couldn’t take everyone right away – they were refining that GNOSIS thing of theirs. About ten of us won. They said they wanted to test out a range of starting positions. They assigned us roles, and some of us got test roles that aren’t typical for new players in the game. I got ‘Nobleman’. Can’t say I’m complaining.”

  Cutthroat was getting more and more agitated as the seconds went by. She sniffed the air, and so did I: a weird, oily smell stung my nose. It smelled like pus, like the gross white shit that collected in the back of your throat sometimes. I unequipped her muzzle so that she had full use of her jaws. “Hey. Can you smell that?”

  “Smell what?” Casper reined his hookwing in, looking around.

  Nethres drew her sword, nose wrinkling.

  “I smell a whole lot of dead... hey, yeah.” Baldr’s pale brows furrowed. “Now you mention it. Probably just swamp gas.”

  I saw some of the grass stir against the wind, and that’s when it hit me. “No. Ambush!”

  Half a dozen creatures that looked like giant skinned wolves bounded from the grass in deadly silence. The rotted things had no lips, only bare jagged teeth that oozed with violet ichor. Their health bars swam into view. Each red bar had a skull smoldering beside it, and their name: Barghest. Six high-level barghests, too high a level for the four of us.

  Cutthroat shrieked her warning the same time I did. Baldr’s hookwing trilled in terror and threw him, sending him flying. I heard someone else hit the ground behind me. My mount wasn’t the kind of gal to run away, though. I’d barely got my spear lined up for a charge when Cutthroat flared her crests, banged her hook claws together, and sprinted at the pack of undead hounds with a banshee scream.

  “I GUESS WE’RE DOING THIS!” It was the closest I got to a battlecry in the seconds before impact.

  The creatures leaped at us, claws-first, and we collided like a line of quarterbacks. I drove my glaive through the shoulder of one. Cutthroat seized another snarling barghest in her jaws, and brought up a leg to rake a third, kicking its guts to the dusty ground. The other three bounded forward, clawing and biting, trying to pull me off the saddle to the dirt. It was so fast, so dirty, that I couldn’t keep track of the alerts - but the rapid scroll, blood, pain, and the lightning drain on my HP told me all I needed to know.

  “Get off! Get off, you motherfuckers!” Nethres rode up first, sword swinging. She struck one barghest off Cutthroat, who was prancing and bucking as she tried to get the savage creatures off her back and flanks.

  I couldn’t pull my spear out of the barghest’s chest. It screamed and bled and thrashed, stuck on the blade. Desperate, I let go of the haft, holding on for dear life, and punched the one gnawing on my shoulder with all my strength. The blows didn’t seem to faze it until my knuckle caught it right in the eye. The rotting eyeball exploded; the creature howled and fell back, and as it did, I saw it was studded with arrows: Casper’s arrows.

  Cutthroat dug her hooks into the body of the barghest in her mouth, and pulled down as she tossed her head up. Her claws ripped through its soggy flesh, and the barghest made a wet warbling sound as my hookwing tore its head off and flung the corpse away. She charged forward, head lowered, and I saw the chance to recapture my weapon as the injured barghest reared up to swipe and smack at her head, turning Cutthroat’s jaws. Holding down with my thighs, I leaned forward and grabbed the very end of the polearm as it swung from side to side.

  “Heal! Heal! I need a heal!” Baldr roared from behind.

  Nethres cried back. “I’m trying!”

  “Move left, Hector!” Casper yelled.

  I jerked Cutthroat’s reins to the left, wrapping my other hand around the Spear, and the hookwing dodged as a volley of arrows flew by her and thudded into the barghest’s body. Even with the direct hits, its HP was still at 50 percent. And there were four more of them.

  “We need to team up on one!” I shouted, carrying the spin all the way. I kicked Cutthroat in the ribs, making her charge away from the barghest in front of me as it ran and slashed with its front claws. “Gang up! Gang up!”

  To my surprise, they seemed to hear me. Go Go Leadership Skill. Baldr backed toward Nethres, holding off a pair of slavering barghests. The howling creatures followed him, raining blows on his shield. They were slowly draining his health despite the barrier. They were so focused on him and Nethres that they didn’t seem to see me.

  We weren’t supposed to use rogue tactics, but I either acted, or we died. I dismounted from Cutthroat’s back and dropped to the ground, and then I used Power Attack while we were still flanking.

  My glaive took the barghest in the back, dealing critical damage. It spun with a screech, barbed tongue lashing, and Nethres hit it from the other side. Casper got the hint: while we encircled the barghest, hacking and chopping, he ran a ring around us, peppering the others with arrows to stop them from ripping into our backs. The spooked hookwings were emboldened by Cutthroat’s aggression, and rejoined her to fight one of the barghests as a pack.

  “I’m out of herbs!” Baldr cried out hoarsely. His white hair was red with blood.

  I healed him for twenty between blows, and saw his HP jump another percentage as Nethres spent an herb on him. We chopped the barghest until it stopped moving, and then the three of us turned as a unit to find the next. I was at half health; Nethres was just over half, thanks to her heavy armor. Casper was at about seventy-five. Baldr, the highest-leveled, was still only at half after the healing we did on him... and there were still four monsters to go. Three of them were descending on us in a gang.

  I hardened my resolve in the few seconds it took for them to come into range. In my mind’s eye, I saw myself on the back of a dragon like Skyr Arnaud’s. I imagined flying on a creature like Talenth, of being able to touch something that size that trusted me completely... of having that bond, that companionship, for the rest of my life.

  I activated the Mark of Matir, draining adrenaline points into the cold fire that spread up my arms, swung the glaive around... and dodged.

  The barghests slammed into Baldr and Nethres, and I was right behind them, flanking the one furthest to the right. The Mark sucked greedily at the barghest’s HP with every successful critical hit - every one out of ten to fifteen so blows critted as I triggered Bluster and Doubletapped, which was enough for me to charge my adrenaline and spam the HP recovery ability. It was only five points here, seven points there, but it kept me hovering around the halfway mark. With every activation, I felt a boost of dark power flush through me. Cold energy wriggled up my arms and through my chest, like a cold finger being drawn through my flesh.

  Ting! [You have reached Level 5!]

  My HP jumped. If you leveled up in battle, you gained base HP and your health rose to match.

  The hookwings tore one yelping barghest away from the fray, while Nethres went down under another. Baldr was hanging on by the skin of his teeth. I joined him on ganking the one that was mauling Nethres. She was screaming. The monster was up in her face and too close for her sword to be of any use. I spent my third-last herb on her to give her a second wind, but it was too late. Nethres gurgled and went still just as we hauled the screeching, struggling monster off her. The girl’s toon vanished and turned to dust. Only her pack was left behind.

  “We need to retreat! We can’t do this!” Casper called out from the fringe of the battle.

  “Fuck retreat!” I roared as I plunged my spear into the barghest’s neck and twisted hard. The sa
me rage that had surged through me when I’d been fighting the harpies was back. “We’ve only got two left!”

  “Hold the line! We can do it!” Baldr bellowed, slamming the edge of his shield into the next wolf-like thing as it tried to pounce onto him.

  This was where Baldr and I had the advantage. Even if Nethres and Casper were gamers, our training and real-world battle experience showed. VR gaming in a headset was one thing, but full-immersion, ‘blood-and-guts and having your eyes clawed out’ combat was quite another. Baldr and I could fight through our adrenaline rushes, while Casper was caving now that his IRL friend was down and not respawning. The arrows were still coming - but they were now covering his retreat as he ran away like a yellow-bellied coward.

  My blood boiled. I’d been a conscript. I hadn’t learned how to fight because I wanted to. But when the draft had come around, I didn’t crash my bike and break a leg to get out of going to war. I hadn’t enrolled into college or gone overseas. I’d served.

  “Piece of-!” My swearing was cut short as one of the last of the creatures broke through my guard and raked its claws across my chest, pitching me back and shaving fifty points off my health with one blow. I picked back at it - ten, eleven damage at a time.

  “We can do it!” Baldr rushed forward as his health jumped, smashing the hilt of his sword into the side of the barghest’s deformed head. “You’ll hit Level 6 so fast your head’ll spin, dude!”

  “HurrrrrAHH!” I fought with the haft and blade, pummeling the barghest as Baldr pinned it with his shield and stabbed the damn thing. There were no more arrows covering us, but the four hookwings were fighting as well, attacking the other barghest one at a time like a pack of feathered lions. I was beginning to understand the rhythm of the monsters’ attacks, the way they relied so heavily on their defense and telegraphed their bites and swipes. When I saw the monster open its mouth to bite Baldr, I jammed the head of my glaive into its face and yanked on it, splitting its head into a shower of blood, then dust.

  The last barghest looked worried, its skinless brow furrowed. Its overpowering enemy red skull icon had vanished now that it was alone and facing multiple opponents, and it cowered back from Baldr and me as we charged. Neither of us intended to let it get away - we chased it as it tore off toward the battlefield. The hookwings, taking their cues from us, ran after it in a hissing, screeching pack. The creature found itself surrounded by a collective three tons of angry dinosaur on one side, and pinned by two equally pissed-off future dragon riders on the other.

  When the dust cleared, we were left with blood-spattered weapons, armor twisted by claws, and injured, limping hookwings. But we’d won. And our golden orbs were still following us, recording everything. Nethres’ and Casper’s were nowhere to be seen.

  “Shit.” Baldr wiped his forehead. “Welp. That was fun.”

  “Nethres fought to the end,” I said, leaning on my spear. I was out of herbs, and my health bar - and everything else - was throbbing. “If I see Casper, I’m knocking that fucking coward out.”

  “That all? We’ll hang his ass. There’s laws for deserters,” Baldr said darkly. “Especially deserters in battle.”

  “I get why he ran,” I replied. “I don’t agree with it, but I get it. He’s a civilian IRL. This game’s combat is too realistic for a squish like him.”

  Baldr sneered in irritation. “He’s fucking immortal, and he needs to grow a pair of balls. He’d respawn if he died.” He sighed. “It’s no excuse. I’ll kill him if I see him.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  I shuddered with the effort to limp over to Cutthroat, who was busy tugging at the loot bag left by the last barghest. “I won’t stop you. So... how do we divide this up? Fifty-fifty? Free for all?”

  “Grab what you can.” Baldr nodded grimly. He crouched down and pawed through the loot. “Cash and... eww, gross. What the hell is this shit?”

  I looked over. He was holding up a [Barghest Eye] on a long stringy bit of flesh, his face a mask of disgust.

  I grinned. “That, my good sir, appears to be an eyeball.”

  “Monster blood, monster skin, barghest bone, barghest eye... what the fuck?” He threw the eyeball away from him, wiping his hands on his surcoat. “Fucking gross, man.”

  “I’m more grossed out by the silver coins,” I replied, happily looting all of the body parts along with [7 x Ilian Florins], [Thread], and [Mana-Cured Leather].

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s not like the things have pockets. Where the fuck do you think they were keeping the coins?”

  “On second thoughts, you can help yourself to all this shit.” Baldr clapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. “I don’t want no eyeballs and I definitely don’t want no goddamn zombie ass coins.”

  “Never said anything about them being in their ass. I’m pretty sure they settle in their stomachs.” I pointed at the sack. “You don’t want the components for alchemy or anything?”

  “Hell, no. I leave nerd shit to smart people. I’m just a jarhead. A rich jarhead. If I need potions, I’ll buy ‘em.”

  No skin off my back. I knew that the value of these items was something I’d unearth in the future, even if they were kind of gross in the present. I uploaded the first lot to my inventory, and went around the bodies until I found Nethres’ gear. It was just the Skyrdon’s armor and weapons. Anything else she’d been carrying had gone off with her to respawn. With a sigh, I loaded them into my inventory and took her pack. Casper had been a coward, but if any of the three of us deserved to go on, it was her.

  Chapter 26

  We still had to finish our patrol, despite everything. Baldr was nearly always in the lead, because I kept stopping to dig up a range of medicinal plants highlighted by my HUD. In the time-honored tradition of RPGs everywhere, I began eating them to see what effects they had.

  “Blech!” I spat out a wad of purple flowers as a debuff icon flashed.

  “Dang it, Hector, do you have to put every damn thing you find in your goddamn mouth?” Exasperated, Baldr looked back over his shoulder. “How many times have you poisoned yourself?”

  “Urrr…. Sevnn? But mah Foragin skrrrl is luuk FVE now!” My mouth was numb from that poisonous herb, [Henbane], and my tongue wouldn’t work properly. But what the hell: Foraging 5!

  “Hey, look, there’s a rock. You gonna stick that in your mouth too?” He jabbed his finger toward a stone by the road.

  “Drrty. Nn no skrrrl imprrvment,” I mumbled.

  “How ‘bout this moss? Or that bird shit over there?”

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled Cutthroat over and collected the moss. And ate it. It conferred a small health buff that cancelled out the poison. “Woo! Antrrdote!”

  “Bless your heart.” Baldr growled, and turned back to watch the road.

  The pauses I took to forage annoyed Baldr, but he didn’t ever actually stop me. We’d nearly lost the battle with the barghests because we lacked Bonebreak Poultices and potions, and I’d set myself a goal of learning how to make something that healed at least 75HP. To that end, I collected all of the Bonebreak I could. It was a fuzzy, olive-green plant with feathery purple flowers. After I’d picked about ten of them, I got an alert. The herb’s detailed description had been added to my glossary.

  Bonebreak (Knowledge B)

  Also known as Comfrey. An herb renowned for its ability to speed the healing of broken bones, mend wounds, and staunch bleeding. Poisonous if eaten without distillation. It is made into poultices by peasant herbalists and army field medics. Skilled alchemists can remove the toxins to make powerful healing potions.

  I found other herbs, too: more henbane, green moss, lily of the valley, snowbells, onion grass, chamomile and droptick flowers, nightshade, and raspberries. I shared the raspberries with Baldr – they gave a small HP regen – and we both looked a lot better by the time we reached the edge of our patrol route. It took everything I had to not growl.

  A cha
ingang was toiling in a bad-smelling muddy field, watched by guards on the backs of hookwings. The guards weren’t wearing Skyrdon colors, and my HUD identified them as [Ilian Soldiers] and [Mercenary Guards]. The prisoners looked thin, frightened, and sickly. They were digging out everything from rusty weapons to old skeletons. The latter were being burned in a pyre overseen by a priest in red robes and a priestess in yellow and gray, who were working as a pair to administer last rites. All of the salvageable metal was being piled onto a wagon.

  “All in order?” Baldr called out as we drew up.

  “Aye, that it is!” One of the guards called back to us. He was an ugly man: dark-haired, pockmarked, unshaven, and jowly. “Got them bargies and geists on the road though. You run into any?”

  I reined Cutthroat beside Baldr’s hookwing. My armor was bloody and torn in places. “Sure did.”

  “Nasty bastards. Priests says they’re the bodies of dead war hounds, Stranged up and wrecked by magic.” The guard drew an infinity symbol over his chest from shoulder to shoulder.

  I frowned, watching the laborers toiling in the mud. “This battlefield is contaminated with magic?”

  “What? Do I look like some kind of wizard to you?” The guard hawked and spat. “I dunno. Prolly. We got them priests here, though – ain’t nothing it can do to anyone.”

  I highly doubted that. Rutha and others had made it clear that mana was toxic as hell. “Time to head back, then. We killed half a dozen barghests on the way here. Lost two of our team.”

  “Right common around these parts,” the guard replied. “You know them dragonmen thin your herd with them bargies and whatnot, don’t you? Every time they bring recruits around, most of them end up on fires like that one o’er there.”

  Baldr and I both glanced at the roaring pyre.

  “Noted. Anything you need?” Baldr asked, scratching under his helmet.

  “You could call in one of your dragons to burn one of these louts and put the fear of the Gods in ‘em,” the guard grumbled. “Lazy mongrels. Warden should have ‘em all strung from the gibbets.”