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    Questmaster
    Questmaster
    Questmaster
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    Questmaster

    By Jessica West

    ()

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    About this ebook

    An island adrift in a world gone to Hell becomes an even smaller place when the weight of its future lands on one person's shoulders. None of the chosen in our recorded history have ever found a way off of the island. This year, the task will fall to a new questmaster.

    "Curing the corruptions shouldn't cost us our humanity." – Tier'an Bai

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWest1Jess, L.L.C.
    Release dateMay 8, 2018
    ISBN9781386665113
    Questmaster
    Author

    Jessica West

    Jessica West (a.k.a. West1Jess) is currently pursuing a state of self-induced psychosis, also known as writing. In the past, she has worked for Wal-Mart, a lawyer, and a bank. Now if she could just get a couple years’ experience with the IRS and the NSA, world domination is in the bag. Jess lives in Acadiana with three daughters still young enough to think she's cool and a husband who knows better but likes her anyway. If you’d like to get in touch with her, just google West1Jess; she’s everywhere. To get emails when she writes stuff, sign up at west1jess.com/specficbyjessicawest. Also by Jessica West: The Faces of the Crying Girl Sin Eater: A Dark Urban Fantasy Novel World Domination: A Supervillain Anthology Tales from the Canyons of the Damned: NO. 8 NO. 13 NO. 15 Omnibus 2 & Omnibus 4

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      Book preview

      Questmaster - Jessica West

      Questmaster

      Questmaster

      Jessica West

      West1Jess, L.L.C.

      Title: Questmaster

      Description: LitRPG Novella

      Originally Published by Captive Quill Press in Myths and Magic: An Epic Fantasy and Speculative Fiction Boxed Set

      West1Jess, L.L.C.

      © 2018 by Jessica West

      Edited by Ellen Campbell

      Illustration by pocketsizedsupervillain

      Cover Art by Rebecca Poole of Dreams2Media

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

      The people, places, and events in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

      For my husband, for making time for the two of us and planting a new obsession within me. Our Titan Quest days are what made me want to write in the first place. You unlocked that part of me that I had no idea existed, opening my eyes to what would become my greatest passion and not just another hobby. For that, and so much more, I will always be grateful.

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Epilogue

      About the Author

      Chapter One

      T ake out the casters and ranged dps first. Kanaan, keep me alive.

      Everyone nods their acknowledgement, but poor Kanaan can’t keep the worry off his face. I get it. Being the healer of the group is a heavy job. You have to keep everyone alive. Most importantly, you have to keep your tank alive and I’m the tank. If I die, he’ll die and we’ll all respawn in town and it’s game over. Not only will we not get another chance to complete this task, but the town elders will boot us from the running altogether.

      Kanaan, listen to me, as long as we don’t totally wipe, we’re fine. You can resurrect everyone else as long as you and I at least survive crowd control. All right?

      A deep breath seems to bolster his courage and this time he nods with more conviction.

      Good. Eli, Sam, Baezu, Jozani, I’m going straight for the shaman first. Assist me until she’s dead, then hit the remaining casters while I tank Gordon Sorven. Do not touch him until everything else is dead.

      A chorus of voices murmur, Got it.

      I’m sure they do have it, but Baezu’s cocky. And, if I’m being totally honest, he’s probably the better tank anyway. He’s a trained warrior, built for tanking. But I rolled lead on this, and we have to stay on the same page. He’s a wild card. I really don’t know how keen he is to follow a girl tank. Only one way to find out.

      Okay, on my mark, we go.

      I turn my focus to the crowd of spiked tumblers below, playing in the shade of the forest. They could almost pass as cute if it weren’t for the serrated edges on the exoskeletons covering their backs. The shaman is near Sorven, almost hidden in shadows, so that’s handy. At least I won’t have to chase him down after she’s dead. On the other hand, he and the shaman will be all over my ass. It can’t be helped, though.

      Checking the position of the other mobs one last time, I set my mind to a path and commit my body to the charge.

      The shadows near me expand, reaching out to embrace me, slipping across the ground at my feet. As they touch me, dark energy lights up every nerve ending, sending a thrill of anticipation through me. Closing my eyes heightens the sense of urgency. When I feel like I can’t hold still another second, I seek out the location of the shaman with my mind’s eye.

      Locked onto her dark energy, I raise my blades in preparation for the strike and let go, giving full control of my body to the shadows.

      The blow staggers the shaman. She stumbles backwards a few steps but doesn’t fall.

      Crap. I had hoped it’d be enough to at least stun her.

      One gnarled hand wrapped in a sickly green glow shoots forward and the soil at my feet bursts upwards.

      I’m trapped in a tangle of roots. Frantically hacking away at them, I’m too distracted to notice the ethereal ice spike until it lodges in my shoulder. The magic dissipates almost immediately, but the damage is done.

      Thankfully, a rush of soothing healing magic dispels the worst of the damage. Kanaan’s heal lands just in time, briefly filling my vision with a soft, blue glow. I’m back to 100%, but his spell does nothing about the slowly fading roots entrapping me.

      As I raise my machete to hack at them and free myself, Sorven’s mace finds my exposed side.

      My scream is born more of frustrated anger than anything else. This is sloppy tanking. The damn roots distracted me, sent me into a panic to escape. I hate being trapped.

      Sorven’s pulling back from his swing, moving against his own momentum.

      That works in my favor, as does the speed I’ve trained for a dozen years to maximize.

      Free of the vines, I whirl in a half circle, the sharpened edge of my machete slicing into Sorven’s back and side and arm.

      Dark brown blood gushes from the wounds and he wails in misery.

      Unfortunately, my spin exposed my other side to the damn shaman.

      Another ice spike drives through my flesh and jars my ribs.

      Kanaan panics. Tier’an!

      I understand his terror—this is his first real battle.

      Kanaan, just keep me alive. That’s it!

      My dagger comes to hand too easily, almost as though it’s been waiting for me to draw it. Gathering a bit of shadow magic, I toss the small but deadly weapon. Propelled by the dark energy and drawn by the shadows surrounding her, my blade instantly finds its mark in the shaman’s chest. Unfortunately, her armor prevents the weapon from doing too much damage.

      But at

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