by Dawn Chapman
Desert Born
Puatera Online Book 2
Dawn Chapman
An NPC’s story
Inspired by the cover
created by
Sarah Anderson
and set in the game world of
Puatera Online
Desert Born
Copyright © 2017 by Dawn Chapman
Published by Dawn Chapman
A+ Game Engine adapted with Christopher Mayer and
© 2017 by WoodBine Street Games
Puatera Online © 2017 by Dawn Chapman
Manuscript Services Provided by
Literary Editor, Rogena Mitchell-Jones
www.rogenamitchell.com
Cover design by Sarah Anderson
Ebook Edition
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the internet without the permission of the author and is a violation of the International copyright law, which subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and place are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real except where noted, and authorised. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
The author and editor have taken great effort in presenting a manuscript free of errors. However, editing errors are ultimately the responsibility of the author.
This book is written in United Kingdom English and includes relative diction.
For those who inspire me on a daily basis, my closest friends and my family, especially the husband who puts up with everything I do or don’t do.
x X x
For my Alfa and Beta Readers, cover designers and editors.
You’re all awesome.
For those who talk to me daily, especially the LitRPG Society Discord Crew.
Who are - Blaise Corvin, Stephan and Sam Morse, Luke Chmilenko.
Special shout this time for Michael Chatfield my sprint buddy!
You all Rock!
Thank you, all of you.
Dawn
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Coming Soon
From the Author
Also by Dawn Chapman
Litrpg Links
Aleron Kong’s Links
Chapter 1
My eyes opened to the whir of the overhead fan. The smell of my own sweat and antics of the night before assaulted my nostrils and turned my stomach.
Thump, thump.
Man, what was I drinking?
The memories of the past couple of days filtered through the alcoholic fog, numbing everything, but the bile wanting to rise up my throat was strong.
I swallowed as I reached over to the side cabinet and pulled out a bottle of cool water. It instantly eased my throat but did nothing to treat the threatening rise of my hangover.
What was I thinking? To numb the pain, the heartache of losing Alex?
It was temporary at best. Ugh, I groaned. This was the pits!
I pushed myself up, licking my lips and feeling the knots in my hair. A shower and clean clothes would help me recover. I would wipe away the night and the thoughts.
Stumbling to the bathroom, I turned on the shower, letting the steam billow up into the extractor.
I paused for only a moment, and my stomach heaved. I turned quick before I missed the bowl and parted with the contents of my stomach. Nothing worse than being so drunk to make you sick. It usually never got to me, but last night had. Alex had.
I stripped off my underwear and double checked all my clothes were in the right ‘dry cleaning slot.’ By the time I got out the shower, they’d be cleaned and dried. Always good to stop in a decent inn with cleaning facilities. I stepped into the blasting heat, happy to wash away everything from the scorching desert plains. Even as I’d bent over the toilet, I hadn’t noticed that there was no pain from my hip. There, in the shower, where the water usually stung the still healing wounds, I ran my hand over smooth skin. There were no pinpricks or any scarring.
I blinked as my eyes ran down my thigh—nothing.
Did Alex’s magic work? I was dumbfounded.
I stood for quite some time wondering about everything, then continued to wash off. Conditioner eased the knots from my sand-blasted and sun-scorched hair. No matter how much I looked after it, a few days in the desert drained the moisture and turned it brittle. I always kept a bottle of excellent damage control oil in the Hog. I might be badass to most people, but I still had pride in myself.
I dried myself by allowing the fan to cool off the water. Eyes were drawn down to my naked body again as I admired the new skin there. How could it wipe away all that hurt and pain? I doubted how long it would stay like this way. Would it suddenly revert to being sore if I took on damage from another source? I shook my head wishing there was coffee waiting for me as well as the freshly washed and warm clothes.
The room spun a little, and I focussed on the fan once before pushing myself up to get dressed and go down to the inn’s bar for something to quell the alcoholic poisoning my body had just been through.
The smell of freshly cooked food drifted towards me, and I tried my best to look like I was hungry and not feeling sick. I sat at the bar and waited till someone spotted me.
“You look like you could do with some strong coffee, my dear.” I heard the voice from behind me and turned to see a tall, lithe man, in slacks and a shirt heading my way with a fresh pot in his hand.
“That’s for sure.” When he poured me a mug, I added my thanks and sipped the fine liquid, suddenly feeling much better. “This is enhanced?”
He grinned, the greying hairs in his beard moving with the smile. “What kind of inn would I be if I let my patrons wake up with a killer hangover and didn’t offer them a decent remedy the next day?”
I felt normality returning to my fogged brain. “That’s very kind of you. I think I drank enough last night to put a dwarf to shame.”
“That you did, my dear.” His eyes twinkled, but then they turned sad. “You must have had your reasons.”
I watched him pull up a chair. He sat close to me. He pinged the small bell at the side of the bar, and a lady poked her head out. “Breakfast is coming right up, Dem.”
“Make that two.” Dem motioned towards me with a wave of his hand.
I listened to Dem’s tales of the previous day. The people, who had been injured and those talking about the Tromoal attack. The food came and went, satisfying the hunger inside and settled me right up for a day of preparing to head back to the Runners Village.
I didn’t clarify anything for him or tell any of my stories. They were for me alone. Besides, what good would it have done to spread panic amongst them, knowing the truth wasn’t for the lower-end citizens of any city? The government heads would be sorting all this out and rallying with Trox City and the others to pacify those who were potential killers.
<
br /> I thanked them for the good stay, made sure I left the room as clean as I could and went to find the Hog. I had a vague idea where I’d left it from the day before, but it was almost as though those memories had been blocked. Probably survival instinct to keep out the memories I didn’t want to keep reliving. Alex.
I noted the Hog up ahead of me, and I grinned. No matter how much trouble I got myself into, he had my adrenaline running, and then there was nothing but freedom on my mind. I needed the breeze in my hair, the open road.
That was when I saw the pair of boots sticking out from under the back wheel.
I froze.
Boots I recognised.
Dropping my backpack, I sprinted as fast as I could, rounding the side of the Hog moving into emergency action. I leaned over Alex, feeling for his carotid artery. He was alive but severely battered and broken.
I palmed the Hog open and grabbed for any healing potion or mix I had left. There was one bottle, and it wasn’t a strong mix. I looked around for someone else to help. Anyone. Alex needed a healer and fast.
I knelt before him, cradled his head as I felt his pulse again, finding it was there, thready, weak. Dripping the mix into his mouth, I did the same as I had two nights ago, massaging his throat, trying to get the liquid into him without it going into his air pipe. He swallowed slowly, choking a little, and then was unconscious again.
There was no clue to the damage he’d taken or what had happened. I couldn’t see any of his visitor stats. Struggling to lift him, I eased him into the back of the Hog where I packed the blankets around him. I hoped he would hang on. There was a healer I trusted back if she’d not been wiped out with the Tromoal visit. A chance I had to take. I was also risking the amount of fuel I would have to get back to the town.
The Hog didn’t know what hit him, and neither did the streets of Port Troli, as I sped through like a demon had possessed me while people swore after me and animals scattered.
Hitting a bump, I heard a soft moan. At least Alex was still alive. I had some hope with that.
The city limits faded, and a soft tree line appeared. We were far from our original destination now, heading for someone who helped me once, way back when I was first injured by the Tromoal. Shalice was a Spirit Elf and very powerful. The locals avoided her because of her affinity to take life as much as she gave it. If you get on her wrong side by killing some of the animals she held dear, you would soon know about it.
Life and the land around this part of the port belonged to her. Some say she was evil, but I knew better. She loved wildlife was all. She chose to stay with the animal side of the world rather than the civilised. I can’t say I blamed her. At this moment in time, the animal world had much more appeal to me too.
Years ago, Shalice’s home had been the only training facility for healers. On the bumpy drive up, I remembered all the people I’d met. I slowed the Hog right down trying not to bounce Alex about any more than I had to. I didn’t know how many broken bones he had or how much pain he was in.
Rounding the corner, I could see the house, built into the sides of two large trees, billowing out in many directions. Crisp, clean.
Shalice waited for me, dressed in her medical whites. No matter how she knew I was coming, or how angry she was with me, I was glad she was ready.
“What happened?” she asked as I opened my door to greet her with a small bow.
“A friend, he’s badly beaten.”
“Roastol,” she shouted. “We need you.” Moving to the Hog, she glanced inside. “Not just a friend. A visitor?” She raised an eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t meet her eyes. I was pushing her boundaries in helping me, and I knew it. She didn’t falter, though. As a huge guy strode over to the Hog, I moved out of his way. Carefully, Roastol picked Alex up and then began to move him as gently as possible to the inside of the house.
I followed, my head low. What this would cost me, I had no idea.
Roastol moved through Shalice’s wooden home with ease, his huge frame bending the boards. I glanced around as we followed behind him. The once elite and sterile home had dust bunnies? I had questions for Shalice, but not now.
Roastol found a side room, and he placed Alex onto a table. The white sterility and scent of cleaning fluids assaulted my nose and eyes, but it was the best place for us. The equipment in here, clean, glinting. A large open window allowed in the one power Shalice regularly used—the sun. I watched as she carefully eased Alex’s jacket aside, then proceeded to get a large pair of scissors. She glanced at me pointing to another pair. “Help me cut everything off. I need to see him unencumbered.”
I took the scissors and followed what she did, cutting from his trouser legs upwards and then through the thicker material at his waist.
His exposed skin was black and blue, welts and cuts everywhere.
“Do you have any idea what happened to him?”
I struggled to keep my focus without tearing up. “No, he was supposed to finish a job, get paid, and return home. I’ve no clue. I’m sorry.”
The shirt was easier to cut, and when it parted, I could see the large bruising developing around his right ribs. Broken for sure. I swallowed back my tears and asked plainly, “Will he live?”
Shalice’s amber eyes met mine, and she replied with, “I do not know. You will need to give me some time.”
I nodded and was about to leave, but she reached for my hand. “I will need your help here. This is not something I can do alone. The spirits ask that I take from another.”
Her use of the word take made my mind crawl. “Take what?”
But her eyes narrowed. “You know the what, my dear.”
I let out a laugh. So, this was the deal. Alex paid dearly for my hip to heal, and to help him, I knew I’d have to accept it back. That lifetime of pain.
“Do it,” I said, placing a finger to his cheek. “What’s a life of pain for someone you care for?”
With a nod, she smiled. “It is nothing, so please, let us concentrate. Do not talk while I work. Just keep your hands placed from his head to his chest.”
I did that, but the cold feeling he gave off worried me. Almost like the other day.
“Do you see his life bar?” Shalice began to draw a circle around us in a mixture of powders.
I tried to focus on him. I’d seen his name tag before, so maybe if I looked deep enough, I could see more.
A slight ping and there it was.
ALEX DUBOIS – HEALTH 7%
“It’s at seven percent.” I gasped.
“Then I have serious work to do. Please focus.”
I tried to, I really did, but the thoughts flashing through me were desperate. I would have given anything to help him, even my life. I realised then I didn’t know much about him or his world. I cared more for him than I did for myself. Was that love? Real love. I mean I knew I loved Dail at some level, but would I have died for him?
The short answer was no.
The room around me started to glow, pinks, blues, and greens. I heard Shalice whispering in her elven language, little that I understood of it. She moved to me, glancing at the ring on my hand. “Very interesting,” and her eyes met mine. “Your friend has more of a chance at surviving with you at his side.”
And then I heard something else. Dalfol.
Shalice, of the Elven Spirit dynasty. We hear your plea. Please, let me confer with Maddie. Alone.
Dalfol? What is this? I thought back to him.
Your friend, Shalice belongs to the spiritual lords of the forests. She is, however, asking the lords of the skies to help Alex.
She’s asking you? What can you do to help him?
Not I, you.
I shook my head. I don’t understand. I can’t help him.
I felt Shalice place her hand on my shoulder. “Maddie,” she whispered in my ear. “You are the only one who can.”
I felt Dalfol draw back. I knew no magic on this level. I wasn’t a sorceress. I panicked, removing my hands from him.
<
br /> His health dipped all the more.
ALEX DUBOIS – HEALTH – 5%
The more I thought about it, the less time Alex had.
ALEX DUBOIS – HEALTH – 3%
Maddie, the crisp cool voice of Riezella came forwards. Trust in us. Trust in yourself.
I placed my hands to their original positions and focussed hard.
It is the transference of life that you’re asking for. It is only fair you are the one to do so. Riezella said. Think of what he truly means to you and why you want him to live. Feel your energy, then let it go.
I did think of what he meant to me, and I spoke the words clearly for everyone to hear. “I love him. I’d do anything for him. My energy is his. My life his.”
The room seemed to fizzle, pop, the voices and feeling of the Tromoal clan around me grew in intensity.
That’s right, Maddie, Riezella whispered. Draw not only from yourself.
Pain ripped through my leg as I knew it would. I didn’t lose focus, the burning growing hotter and hotter. Alex’s health bar flickered. . .
“Come on!” I screamed.
Then it moved, just slightly but it did.
ALEX DUBOIS – HEALTH – 5%
This was going to take some considerable effort. I sucked in a breath, cracked my neck so the bones popped, and put in all the determination I could, till blackness started to swirl around me.
I heard Shalice. “Maddie, stop. You’ll kill yourself.”
Hands grabbed onto me, pulling me away from Alex, and the room vanished.