Warmaster 2: Winter's Peril: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure, page 1
Warmaster 2: Winter’s Peril
Melissa McShane
Copyright © 2024 by Melissa McShane
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Etheric Tales www.etherictales.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Appendix: Character Sheets
About the Author
Also by Melissa McShane
Chapter One
Aderyn wasn’t sentimental, but she was still glad the day of Soline’s memorial was bright and clear and not rainy as yesterday had been. That would have felt ridiculous, as if the sky knew about the death to mourn with the humans. Aderyn hadn’t known the Bonemender well, but Soline had been helpful and kind, and it still infuriated Aderyn that her kindness had ended up getting her killed. Her murderer, the secret Diabolist Jedrek, had been carried away by the demon he’d summoned to kill Soline, but even the torments he was enduring didn’t make up for the loss.
It seemed half the city had turned out to celebrate Soline’s life. Well, a level twenty Bonemender was no doubt a pillar of the community, between her adventures, her achievements, and her magical abilities, so it made sense a lot of people knew and admired her. Aderyn was used to funerals in her home town of Far Haven. They were usually mournful events, even if the deceased had been very old or very ill and in pain. This was more like a citywide party.
Aderyn stood at her room’s window and watched the street three stories below. She could hear the noise of the crowds even through the glass—men and women singing and shouting to one another, some of them dancing in small groups. The door of the Horse and Hound Inn never stopped swinging as people entered, looking for a drink or a companion, or left in search of more of that elsewhere.
“You coming downstairs?”
Aderyn didn’t turn around. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked Owen. “It feels like these people just want an excuse to party, and they aren’t thinking of Soline at all.”
Owen entered her room and closed the door behind him. “Funny you should say that,” he said. “In my world, we have holidays—like, special annual occasions to commemorate things—that used to be serious and all that, but they’ve turned into days to party. So I get what you mean. But I think in this case it’s more like them being happy for who Soline was and what she did for this city.”
“It still feels strange.”
“It’s not how your town handles grief, is it?”
Aderyn shrugged. “It’s sad when a life ends. Even if they get absorbed into the system. Nobody knows what happens then, so it could be something great, or it could be awful, and either way we’re just guessing.”
“In my world, a lot of people believe there’s a part of you that lives on. Maybe it goes to heaven, or maybe it stays around and watches over loved ones, but that means death isn’t the end.” Owen leaned on the windowsill and stared down at the street as Aderyn had.
“I can’t even imagine that. What does that part of you look like? Can others see it?” Aderyn had a sudden vivid picture of shining columns of light drifting through streets, though she’d never seen Owen’s world, so her imagination placed the columns in Far Haven. That would send everyone screaming.
“Nobody agrees on that. I don’t know if I believe it, myself, that there’s an afterlife people go to. I don’t believe in ghosts—those are supposedly what happens when the spirits of dead people hang around and scare the living. I guess that means your world doesn’t have ghosts, or vampires, or zombies.”
“I don’t even know what those words mean.”
“It’s just as well. I always thought people made up stories about the undead because the idea of death not being the end is scary as well as comforting.” Owen straightened. “Come downstairs. It’s dinnertime. And we’re all going to talk about things that aren’t death and sadness.”
Aderyn nodded. “I do understand one thing,” she said, following Owen out of the room. “I want to remember Soline for how she helped us and not for how her life ended.”
“That’s something we can all manage,” Owen replied.
The stairs were too narrow for them to walk side by side, so Aderyn let Owen lead the way. She pretended to herself it wasn’t so she could watch him unobserved. In the week since they’d discovered Owen couldn’t return to his world, she’d watched him in secret often. At first, she’d been concerned that he wasn’t doing as well as he claimed, worrying that he might become depressed or angry over his situation. Learning you were dead in your own world couldn’t be easy, even if you were alive in this one.
Then her watching had become more personal. She’d find herself staring at his hands, or his shoulders, or the sharp line of his collarbone where it peeked out from the neck of his shirt. He really was handsome, and she liked looking at him, but she’d started to feel there was more to it than that. She remembered holding his hand before, always for practical reasons. Suppose he took her hand just to feel that connection? The idea excited her.
So, she was attracted to Owen. To her partner. She’d never had a sweetheart before. She hadn’t been interested in any of the young men in Far Haven, and if she had been, she’d cared more about adventuring than romance. Making a connection with someone she’d leave behind was pointless. But someone she was traveling with, someone on her team—her parents had met as teammates, years ago, and they’d married while they were still adventuring. It wasn’t impossible.
The problem was that Owen wasn’t interested.
That might not be true. Aderyn didn’t have experience with romance, and maybe he just didn’t show his feelings. But all the stories she’d read, and her parents’ tales of their courtship, said men were forthright and open about the women they cared about. Aderyn’s favorite romantic story was the tale of Jesseta and Corin. She loved how Corin had persisted in his courtship of Jesseta when she believed she would never love again after the death of her husband. She had Corin’s declaration of love to Jesseta memorized. It was a wonderful speech about love and desire. Owen never gave the slightest hint that he was on the verge of something like that.
So, she contented herself with watching. Maybe Owen was just slow to decide how he felt. Maybe he was working up the courage to speak. She stared at his shoulders, how they were muscled in the strong, elegant way of a Swordsworn, and shivered at the thought of running her hands across them. Then she mentally slapped herself. Daydreaming was fine while they were safely in a city, but she’d better control herself once they were back in the Forsaken Lands, where distraction could get her or someone she cared about killed.
Weston, Livia, and Isold were waiting at a table in the taproom. Aderyn was impressed that they’d managed to grab one, because the Horse and Hound was overflowing with merrymakers. It was standing room only now. Owen muscled his way through the crowd and sat, with Aderyn taking the chair beside his. “Is food coming?” Owen asked. “Because I’m not sure any of the servers would notice us unless someone danced on the table with their hair on fire.”
“It’s coming,” Weston said. “Though if Livia was a Flamecrafter instead of an Earthbreaker, we could manage the hair on fire thing.”
“I can set your hair on fire, lummox,” Livia said without rancor.
“Are you going to trade insults all night, or can we hear what Isold learned?” Owen said.
“You’re so boring,” Weston said with a grin. “All right, let’s hear it. I know you went to the Postern Academy today, Isold. Did they have the answer you were after?”
“Yes, and no,” Isold said. He leaned forward, his lanky frame making him look skinny next to the enormous Moonlighter. “They didn’t know anything about the Fated One, but they had a suggestion for where we could look. It’s extreme, but I think it’s worth pursuing.”
“Extreme, how?” Aderyn asked.
Isold gla
“There was a slaughter in honor of Soline,” Weston said. “I guess a few of the local herdsmen owed her for healing their cows of a terrible disease, and this was their donation to the celebration.”
“I was afraid it was in honor of us defeating the man who killed her,” Owen said. “I don’t feel deserving of any recognition for that, since it wasn’t really us.”
“No, our names have been kept out of public awareness.” Isold cut into his steak, releasing more of the tantalizing smell. “At any rate, the next step is extreme only in terms of distance. They told me about a place containing records going back centuries, possibly to before the time of the level cap. It’s far north, more than two weeks’ journey, so we could be wasting a lot of time if it doesn’t have anything useful.”
“Does it have anything useful?” Aderyn asked. “I mean, we’re trying to find out what actions the Fated One is destined to do to break the level cap. Is that something they’d know?”
“We have a number of avenues we could pursue,” Isold said. “We could investigate the legends of the Fated One to see if any of them have specific knowledge about that person’s destiny. We could look into what caused the level cap in the first place. We could also try to find out what makes someone a candidate for Fated One—many people simply decide the prophecies apply to them, but we’ve seen that Owen didn’t know about the legends and the system chose him anyway. My feeling is that this place, this Repository, has records old enough that there should be something relating to each of these avenues. I’d like to see if it helps us narrow our search at all.”
“You’re right, that’s a long way to go for a possibility,” Owen said. “On the other hand, it’s not like we have anywhere else to be, right? No big quests waiting aside from the [Fated One’s Destiny]?”
As if in response to his words, a system message appeared.
A new quest is available: [Attain Lost Knowledge]
Accept? Y / N
“We should temporarily set this as our primary quest, as we can’t proceed with the other until we’ve learned more,” Isold said.
Aderyn selected Y and then set the quest as her primary quest while all around her her companions did the same. “Far north,” she said. “How far north? Will it be winter there?”
“In the foothills of the Pinnalore Mountains,” Isold said, “and it won’t be winter, but it will be much colder than it is here.”
“Another shopping quest, then?” Livia said. She looked pleased at the thought.
“Not yet,” Isold said. “There’s a city halfway between Guerdon Deep and Elkenforest, where the Repository is. We’ll want to buy cold-weather gear in that city, Ashenfell. That way, we don’t add to our load before we need it.”
“I assume we’re joining a caravan,” Weston said.
“Why is that?” Owen asked. “Safety in numbers?”
“More or less,” Weston replied. “That far north is too dangerous for us at level seven. We’ll need protection—though there will still be monsters we can kill, so we’ll gain experience as we go. In fact, adventurers are expected to help protect the caravan even as they get protection from it.”
“Some caravans run from cities in the Forsaken Lands to the safe zone, bringing level one adventurers from those cities to where it’s safe for them to begin adventuring,” Livia explained. “Others go between the big cities, helping the non-classed people who need to venture past their own towns. It’s a popular strategy for mid-level adventuring, signing on with a caravan. Less treasure, usually, but you fight all sorts of monsters you wouldn’t otherwise see.”
“I’m feeling the urge to head out again, after this relaxing week,” Owen said. “Like I’ve recharged my batteries—don’t ask, it’s electricity,” he said as Aderyn opened her mouth. Aderyn knew Owen’s world captured lightning and used it to power their technology, but she couldn’t picture people storing electricity in themselves. Sometimes Owen’s answers just confused her more.
“Me too,” Weston said, stretching. “I haven’t had any real opportunities for exercise this week. Time to get out on the road again.”
“We’re not leaving until I’ve bought more coffee. A lot more coffee. And don’t tell me I’m wrecking my digestive system, lummox. Coffee’s healthier than that cold bath thing you insist on, first thing in the morning,” Livia said.
“I haven’t given up on making you see the light.”
“If the light is the first light of dawn, you’re going to wait a long time.”
“Where do we find a caravan?” Owen asked, ignoring the friendly squabble.
“I inquired this afternoon. There’s a caravan leaving for Elkenforest by way of Ashenfell day after tomorrow,” Isold said. “That gives us plenty of time to resupply tomorrow.”
“We’re low on money,” Owen said. “We got those magical items as our reward for defeating Jedrek, but no cash—not that I’m complaining. Obviously I don’t think the city owes us anything. It’s still a problem.”
“Yes, and you’re going to want a better sword in a level or two,” Weston said.
“I don’t want to hang around in Guerdon Deep doing quests for cash. Maybe that makes me too impatient, but I want to follow this lead immediately.” Owen still looked sour. “We’ll just have to look for money-making opportunities as we go.”
“At least it won’t cost us anything to join the caravan, since we’re signing on as protectors,” Aderyn said. “And I could contribute to paying for a new sword, Owen, because I could sell my sword and take the
“Hand-me-down weaponry, eh?” Owen grinned. “Let’s at least see how expensive a better sword is and make a decision tomorrow. Anyone else have things they need to do? Aside from Livia buying an entire Colombian forest of coffee beans?”
“You delight in mentioning places we’ve never heard of, don’t you?” Aderyn said, elbowing him in the ribs.
Chapter Two
Aderyn and Owen left the Horse and Hound after breakfast the next morning, when the air was still damp with dew. Guerdon Deep was cooler than Aderyn’s home in the southern lowlands, and while it was still warm with summer’s heat, that heat wasn’t so punishing. Mornings were actually cool and comfortable.
“I thought we could try that weapons shop over by Soline’s—I mean Cavan’s home,” Owen said. “We passed it a few times, and I kept meaning to go in and look, but there was never time.”
“There’s also a blacksmith Isold mentioned who does custom work,” Aderyn said. “Though maybe that’s too expensive.”
“I can’t afford to spend all my money on a sword, and even if we get a good price for yours, we have a limit.” Owen glanced at Aderyn’s sword, swinging at her hip, and added, “I’m not sure I should let you spend that money on me. It was your father’s sword before it was mine, and now it’s yours.”
“First, I’ll be taking your current sword, so you can balance what I give you against how expensive a
“Yes, ma’am,” Owen said with a laugh. “I guess your world is different from mine in that respect.”
“Really? What do you mean?” She loved hearing about his world, especially how it differed from hers.
“Well,” Owen said with a shrug, “in my world, the tradition is that men shouldn’t let women buy them things. It’s supposed to go the other way around.”
“That’s so strange. Why is that?”
“I will put on my history teacher hat for this answer.” Owen lifted an imaginary hat in both hands and very deliberately lowered it onto his head. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, all so dramatically Aderyn laughed. “For a long time, women—this is in my part of the world, understand, and it’s different elsewhere—anyway, women didn’t have many of the same rights men did. They couldn’t earn their own money, for example. Men were the ones expected to provide for a family.”
