Текст книги "AlterWorld"

Автор книги: Dmitri Rus

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

The eternal void swallowed the Liches. I stood alone in the enormous dungeon. Grunting like an old man, I scraped myself off the floor, brushed off the little stones biting into my hands and had a good look around. It wasn't often you found yourself in such a large, deserted and perfectly safe space. If I could talk Grym into giving me the keys or if I could find another entrance, this could be a perfect secret camp site.

I walked over to the pedestal. The fragment still lay on it, dull and lonesome, decimated in size. Sorry, dude. It's not easy to say "no" to nine Liches. I peered into the stone.

Medium Fragment of the Dark Altar

Item class: Rare

Can be used to make a Big Raid Altar

Requires level 50

Effect 1: 25% bonus to all Dark spells (Blood, Death, Hatred, Shamanism, etc.)

Effect 2: 25% resistance to all spells of Light

Yes! I cautiously reached out and picked it up. It worked. Excellent. I was sure I could use it at some point. Not the next day or even the day after, but I knew it would come in very handy.

I wasn't in a hurry any more, so I decided to explore the catacombs. It took me three hours to get into all the nooks and crannies and tap all the walls, and then to break open all the chests, jugs and boxes I'd discovered. I found four money stashes, a basket with a decent choice of elixirs and any amount of vegetable matter like mushrooms, moss, mold and some pale-looking herbs. My herbal skill had hit the 150 points limit long ago. If I wanted to level it further, I had to go back to the guild masters for my craftsman status.

That was it. I could go home. I walked back up to the first level and knocked on the door. As if! I tapped a fancy rhythm to let Grym know it was me and not some intruding monster. Still he didn't open. Apparently, this place had only two exits: either by teleporter or feet first.

I turned around and walked back thinking how on earth I'd gotten myself into this mess. I could probably invest one of the still-available talent points into a group teleport. That way I could take the panther back with me. Still, I already knew it wasn't very clever, arriving in the city with a zombie in tow. Once bitten, twice shy. It was a crying shame to leave kitty in the catacombs but there was no other option, really.

My absent-mindedness nearly cost me. Deep in thought, I stumbled on something and went flying across the hard floor. In an attempt to stay on my feet, I grabbed the first thing that was within my reach—a torch, but I only succeeded in pulling it out of its mounting. Clutching it, I collapsed in a heap on the floor. My health bar shrank back, but I couldn't care less. I was holding the torch. The Torch!

Torch of True Flame

Item class: Unique

No stealth or invisibility spells can hide one from the light of Primary Fire.

Item type: Independent. Does not disappear when deleted from the inventory. Can be activated via the artifact menu.

Great. I could use it. I opened the settings. Brightness, color of flame, flame on/off. Exactly what I needed. I shoved the expired torch into my bag. Waste not, want not.

I spent the next hour giving the dungeon another search, trying everything that appeared to be bolted down. As a result, I became the proud owner of two more torches and a large shield that I at first had taken for some ornament on the wall. The shield's parameters looked like a mixed blessing:

Ogre's Siege Shield

Item class: Unique

Requires level 50

Effect 1: 370 to Armor

Effect 2: halves the player's speed

It fit into my bag sending me into overload. Now I was heavy and slow enough even without being equipped with that Ogre's armored wardrobe. It was definitely time to go. I patted the panther's neck, silently wishing him to avoid disembodiment but instead, turn into the dungeon's new legend: a new aggro monster. Then I activated the portal.

It opened with a quiet pop, leaving me standing in the Three Little Pigs courtyard. A player jumped out of my way, cussing good-naturedly under his breath. I smiled and took in the city's night breeze carrying the fragrance of roasting meat. My feet heavy and tired, I slouched to the front door.

As I crossed the hall, I exchanged a few words with some of the regulars and was about to go upstairs to my room when Eric waved to me from his corner table. I was always happy to see him. He had this talent of making everybody around him feel good.

He wasn't alone. A man was sitting to his left, his expression serious, his eyes cold and attentive. The fancy cordwain armor and double blades glowing by his sides betrayed his class. A rogue. I looked up his level. 160. Holy shit.

To Eric's right sat another character—and he definitely didn't belong there. A plump little man with balding temples squinted at me shortsightedly. He was wearing a pair of plain pants, a shirt and a business jacket, wherever he'd got that from. He must have had them made to measure. A classic office rat if I'd ever seen one. Level 9. So! He probably had his reasons not to exceed it. A crafter? Or a moneybag?

Eric rose and gave me a bear hug. "Come sit here, dude. Gents, this is Laith, a.k.a. Max, known for his equal doses of luck and masochism." He pointed at the rogue, "And this is Dan from our Branch of Light. He's our top cloak and dagger."

The rogue reached out an unhurried hand. "You talk too much," he said to Eric. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Yeah. Some sort of secret-freakin'-agent character. These guys were taking the real-life stuff a bit too far for my liking. They probably couldn't help it, being in the military and all that. On second thoughts, they could be right.

Eric ignored the comment and introduced the second man. "This is our dear Mr. Simonov. He is our bookkeeper, one of a kind. His dangerous profession left him with no option. It was either doing time or going digital. Mr. Simonov wasn't into games then. He set all the settings to default 5, then added his real name and appearance. And off he went. Good job we noticed him in time. If we hadn't, God knows what would've happened to him. So please meet the North Castle treasurer.

The bookkeeper rose in his seat and offered me his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Sir."

I nodded. "The North Castle? How about the South one?"

Eric gave me a happy grin. "Count on it. We have a South one and an East one. We don't have a West one, though. Not yet. But with any luck…"

The rogue frowned, "Eric."

"Please. As if our enemies don't know how many castles we have."

"This is classified information. The castles aren't the problem. Your unprofessional attitude is."

Eric shrugged him away. Which probably wasn't such a good thing. This devil-may-care poise of his could well be the reason behind his low clan rank.

"Sit down, I tell you," Eric bellowed at me. "They're bringing the grub now. We've only just arrived. Why are you wobbling about like a wet noodle?"

I couldn't help smiling at the picture. "I'm dead, man. Been farming for fourteen hours flat. Mopping up a dungeon. Only teleported here a minute ago, loaded like a Pakistani donkey. My mount was supposed to bring another half a ton. But he's gone to the Rainbow Bridge now. Guess, he needed a break from me."

"You eager beaver," Eric grinned. "Very well, then. Surprise me. You were full of surprises in the past."

For a moment, I hesitated whether I should disclose my finds. Still, I trusted Eric. Besides, it probably wasn't a bad idea to raise my weight in his clanmates' eyes. They looked like the right kind of crowd. I'd better stick around.

I took out the whip and handed it to Eric. Uninterested, he passed it over to the rogue.

"A decent toy. Not bad for a mid-level," he commented. "Might go for a hundred fifty gold."

Hm. I'd hoped it would bring more. I pushed the whip to the edge of the table and groaned with the effort as I took out the shield. It must have weighed half a ton. Eric's eyebrows rose.

"Holy shit. Are they cutting up a cruiser somewhere? Is that where you got yourself this whack of armor plate?"

The rogue only shook his head. "First time I see anything like it. Mr. Simonov?"

The treasurer readjusted his non-existing eyeglasses. He looked at the shield scratching his head. "Could be a hundred. Or a thousand. A very peculiar object. Might prove perfect for some specialist job or an unorthodox leveling pattern. I should auction it with the highest reserve until it finds its buyer. Unless he needs some money fast. In that case we could buy it for potential long-term speculation. But in that case, I'm not going to offer the real price. He needs to understand that."

I nodded. This was sound advice, worth disclosing my loot. Eric looked at the other two, pride in his glare: didn't I say he was full of surprises? I reached into my bag. He stared at me, puzzled. "What else have you got there?"

I pulled out a torch and pressed the mental On button. It could be my imagination but all the other lamps in the hall seemed to have flickered and dimmed.

The rogue perked up and leaned close to read the stats. Then he drew toward me. "How many have you got?"

I tilted my head. "This is classified information."

Eric guffawed and slapped my shoulder so hard that I received an attack message.

The rogue was hard to shake off. "I'll give you a grand each," he glanced at the treasurer who slowly nodded his agreement. Apparently, they did have the money.

I was a bit taken aback but the rogue kept applying pressure. "This is a good honest-to-God price. Torches aren't common loot but frequent enough to have a stable price. You're not going to use them, are you? What would you do with them?"

I tried to come up with an answer but he didn't want to wait. "You see? You don't even know. We do. We can use them for lots of things. To illuminate the main corridor, for one thing. And the treasury corridor, and the conference hall. You get the picture. The True Vision spell is no good against a high-level rogue. I have the skill I can see them with, but I can't be everywhere, can I? All these spies and thieves are the bane of my life. If he doesn't pilfer everything he sees, he'd hide in stealth under the conference table and in under twenty-four hours collect all the confidential information he can sell. Some of us just can't hold their tongues, can they?" he gave Eric a meaningful look.

Finally, he laid his trump card. "We can be grateful. Which is a lot. Believe me."

I nodded to show I understood what he'd said. And still, I forced myself to decline the offer. "Sorry. I really can't think straight at the moment. Too tired, I suppose. I'll think about it tomorrow, okay? No offense."

He nodded. "Well done. You've ticked the right box. Had you said 'yes', I'd have been quite happy knowing I'd browbeaten you into it. But I don't think I'd have trusted you with anything serious."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I really didn't want to have any problems with this crowd. So I reached into the bag again and froze, grinning at Eric.

He leaned forward. "Don't fuck around. What else have you got?"

I produced the vial.

The rogue slumped back in his chair and raised his hands. "I give up. I don't care what else you might have there. I'll pay you fifteen grand for the whole lot."

Mr. Simonov studied me with interest. "Excuse me, Sir? You have any idea what you've got there? Even real-world money won't buy you this kind of mob droppings. Any top clan buys them like hot cakes. They always need them to level their leading raid tanks or damage dealers."

Eric was fingering the vial. "Who dropped it?"

"A floor boss in a unique personal dungeon I've been to. A level 55 slug, this big."

"Done any screen shots?"

"No. Stupid of me."

"Check the log files provided they're still available, and save them. They might come in handy when you want to sell it."

The rogue raised his hand, attracting our attention. "Would be nice if you gave us first option before you auction them. You wouldn't regret it."

I nodded my understanding.

He paused, thinking. "The day after tomorrow we're having an open house day. Come see us at the Castle. It doesn't happen very often. In fact, it's only the second time we're having it."

"Beg your pardon," Eric butted in. "I was going to invite him myself."

I didn't want them to argue. "I'd love to come. May I bring a date?"

"Suit yourself. Eleven o'clock there'll be a group teleport from the Three Little Pigs. Don't be late, you two: the Castle is about an hour on foot. Make sure you've got all your combat gear with you. There'll be tons of competitions. You just might need it."

"Will do. Now where's that waitress of yours? I'm hungry as a bear."

I stuffed all the goodies back into the bag and found a moment to take it upstairs to my room. As I changed, I got an incoming message from Taali. She'd just logged in. She had missed me. She said she couldn't wait to show me a particular fragment from the Kamasutra: page thirty-four, second paragraph from the top. Probably, I should have a light meal, after all.

An idea struck me. I paused for a second and reached inside my bag for the umpteenth time that day. Then I went back downstairs and had a talk with the bartender. A fistful of gold changed hands.

Not a minute too soon. In a whirlwind of jewelry and minimal clothing, Taali burst into the hall leaving dumbstruck patrons in her wake, the heels of her suede boots clattering victoriously.

We had it all: a good meal, light wine and some pretty intimate dancing. Finally the girl gave me a meaningful look and retired to the ladies' room. I got the message. I said my goodbyes and smiled at my friends' simple jokes involving men's marital duties as I waited for her to come out. Then I scooped the girl into my arms and took her upstairs to enthusiastic applause behind my back. She hid her flushed face in my jacket.

When we reached my room, I set her back on her feet and pushed the door open.

She gasped, wide-eyed. "What's all that?"

The Torches of True Flame cast red, green and blue hues across the darkened room. Flowers littered the bed and the room's floor. A large sea shell on the table crooned a sad song.

I put on the air of a travel guide and began pointing at my exhibits. "To your right, the Torches of True Flame. You should have seen that secret-service guy, he was chomping at the bit to get them. To your left, Romance Aura #5: a collection of wild flowers made to my own recipe. Finally, the Singing Shell from the Sirens' Island. You probably know that male sirens are absolutely brainless. So these shells learned to copy the female mating song to lure stupid human males into offering them some fish and fruit. Apparently, the sirens' mating song affects our subconscious in the most mysterious way stimulating sexual pleasure."

Her eyes glinted. Her nostrils flared, a sharp tongue licking the red lips. In a smooth elusive motion that only a woman can master, her dress slid down to her feet. She stepped over the silk heap.

Now it was my turn to gasp. Two masterfully tattooed roses entangled her body in a desperate combat, their buds opening and shutting down, thin shoots spiraling up to hug each other and part again. Pitiless thorns pierced the fragile leaves.

"What's all that?"

"This is a vibe tattoo. It copies the host's mood. There's only one artist in the whole city who does it. By appointment only."

"And what mood would this flower battle signify?"

Her eyes glinted again. She stepped close and whispered in my ear, "You're about to find out."

I had a long lazy morning to compensate for my night's exertions. Taali had left very early and I couldn't sleep afterward. The shell had kept crooning its sad song until I had finally thought of offering it a few pieces of fruit from the bowl. Taali wouldn't be back until later in the evening. I had no desire to go farming again. This felt like a good day to give myself a break. I had to look into my current affairs and maybe potter around the auction house a bit before sorting through all the goodies I'd amassed. Finally, I could just laze about with a book.

They sent me up some breakfast. Bliss. What could be better than the smell of fresh coffee in the morning?—only a cigarette. Unfortunately, the game was fighting tooth and claw for more audience and the 'no smoking' tag granted it the precious 12+ status. Good job their alcohol lobby had managed to sink a similar liquor ban allowing the likes of myself access to an occasional beer.

Having finished my breakfast, I opened the auction house. All the elixirs had sold, adding to my healthy balance. I followed the ex-bookkeeper's advice and put up the shield for a grand gold. Let it hang there and wait for its chance. Then I sorted through the herbs, turning whatever I could into elixirs and making a list of missing recipes to buy. When my alchemy skill finally hit the limit, I pushed the Transformation Box away. Tired. 'Nuff workin'.

I changed into some plain city gear and consulted the inn keeper about some places to see. Then off I trotted for a walk. Freedom.

First thing I paid two gold for entering the city zoo. Normally it was one gold, but that day they had a unique guest exhibit, the Bone Dragon—an enormous beast caught about a month earlier in the Dead Lands that was now touring all the big city zoos.

The zoo boasted quite a selection of animals. I'd expected to see the usual varieties and was impressed by their choice of infernal and lower-plane creatures. Every cage had a sign telling you everything about each monster's usual habitat and skills—a true bestiary of sorts. I was eternally grateful for my new absolute memory as I studied sign after sign, comparing and analyzing them. Dome shields rose over some of the cages protecting visitors from the animals' magic or mental attacks. The shields were powered by massive artifacts coupled with an accumulating crystal: the same type of protection the locals used widely for fortification purposes. The better-off castles installed similar magic umbrellas, large enough to cover the entire premises. Those not so rich made do with protecting key areas such as gates, towers, dungeons and the like.

Walking leisurely, I finally reached the main attraction. The dragon was overpowering. His massive bone frame stood four stories tall, filled with billowing darkness glinting gold. Utterly beautiful.

His heavy head turned toward me, reacting to that last thought. The green searchlights of his eyes stared at me. The powerful surge of emotion pinned me to the ground. A mixture of irony, contempt, eternal angst and finally, surprise.

Dark One? resounded in my head.

"Well, hello to you too. Stop yelling, will ya? My head's gonna burst in a minute."

The dragon eased the pressure.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Been unlucky enough to be born here. Won't be staying for much longer, I'm afraid. We're not popular with the locals.

Another wave of hopeless angst flooded over me. People around me started to disperse, apparently feeling the same.

"Anything I can do for you?"

He replied with a mixture of skepticism and just a dash of gratitude. His eyes pointed at the massive cage made of some arcane metal and at the powerful dome powered by three artifacts, the crystals inside them enormous. You're too weak and young, Elf.

I sent him a mental image of myself, taken when I was holding the Astral Mana Dispersal spell.

The Dragon was suitably impressed. It could help, you know. Provided you could hold it for a good dozen ticks. And provided you were afforded that time.

Shame. Such a handsome creature. And so doleful… broke my heart, really. Leaving him there felt like pulling tails off puppies.

"Sorry, Mister Dragon, Sir. That's all I've got, I'm afraid."

The Dragon appreciated my honesty. Don't worry. I can end my existence any time I want. I can always descend to the Fallen One's chambers on the lower planes. Which is a shame, really. It has taken me centuries to build up my current strength. In any case, time isn't so important for us. There's another thing that keeps me here. My nest. Once every ten years we lay an egg and share our magic supply with the growing chick. I've already missed three hatches, hoping to accumulate enough strength to grow a Phantom Dragon. Two even. I've laid two eggs—two potential Phantoms of power untold. And when I was circling the sky singing my song of triumph, I let my guard down and flew straight through a portal that opened in front of my nose. You can see where it took me.

I nodded. That had been a clever trick, whoever had done it. I needed to give those portals a good think. The inklings of an idea began to form in my head.

In the meantime, the Dragon lunged toward me. The mage responsible for the artifacts jumped up.

Help me, O Dark One! I have no hope of getting out of here. But my nest is hidden well, and few can break the egg shells. The chicks have enough of their own mana to last another couple months. After that, they're done.

New quest alert! Grief of a Dragon

Without access to life-giving energy, Bone Dragon's unique batch of eggs is dying in the remote and perilous Dead Lands. Share your Strength with them to prevent the rare creatures from extinction.

I accepted. The Dead Lands. Sounded like it could be on my way, anyway. Everything looked as if I was in for a long journey. The Dragon looked at me, hope in his eyes. What else did he want? Hadn't I just accepted the quest?

I'm afraid of even asking you…

"What is it?"

I wonder if you could find enough energy to help the chicks hatch?

"How much mana does it take?"

Not much. About a thousand from your current stores. More would be better. Each.

I choked. Not much! I'd grow old brooding the wretched things.

New quest alert! Grief of a Dragon II

Send enough of your Strength to Phantom Dragons to allow them to break free.

Reward: Unknown.

Hm. Accept, no question about it. But I really couldn't promise anything.

Sensing my indecision, the Dragon hurried to add, I'll bestow my aura imprint on you. It'll help you cross the Dead Lands and enter the Valley of Fear. It's inhabited mainly by the undead. In the center of the Valley there's an abandoned Castle. The nest is on top of the North Tower.

"Wait a sec. A temple—is there a temple there?"

You bet there is. It's enormous. But it's dead like everything else around it.

"Oh."

You think you can help me?

"I'll do what I can."

Very well, then. Catch!

Inside his skeletal frame, darkness swirled, boiling, bringing golden sparks to the surface, then consolidating them into the shape of a gold spear. It pierced the power shield pinning me with the Dragon's aura. Alarms wailed. Teleports popped open, letting out guards, mages and paladins. The Dragon curled up and shoved his head under his wing. Not he looked totally harmless. Time to leg it.

The moment I was out of the warriors' sight, I activated the portal and teleported back to the inn. Whew. Looked like I'd got out safely. A lunch was called for. I'd have to think about this strange stroke of luck over the meal.

I got a message from Taali as I ate. Apparently, she'd managed to finish early at work so now, she said, she was completely at my disposal. Literally.

I shook my head free of all clever thoughts, switching to date mode. So much for my plans for the day. I hadn't even started with my sightseeing.

Taali had changed yesterday's dress for another revealing Elven attire. My life! Should we go straight back to my room? No, not if she had anything to do with it. My appreciation wasn't enough: her getup demanded some quality exposure. So we went for a walk.

First thing, we visited the Stele of Lovers. A fragment of a stone wall, tall as you like, was said to have been left from the ancient temple of Lada—the Slavic goddess of love and beauty. As tradition demanded, we had to splurge on a pot of indelible paint and the services of a steeplejack kid who climbed up the wall to immortalize our combined initials in stone. The cost depended on the brightness of the paint, the height at which Laith + Taali had to be displayed, and the size of the lettering. Taali tried not to laugh as she watched me decide on the price of this token of our romance. I paid ten gold to the business owner, inconspicuously shoving another one in the kid's open hand, which had the effect of enlarging the words twice the size. The business owner frowned, uncomprehending, while Taali cast proud glances at the bystanders.

After that, we went for a ride on a unicorn. Contrary to the legend, you didn't have to be a virgin to tame one. Also, this one had an unnatural penchant for sugar: for one or two lumps he allowed me to stroke his horn which, also according to legend, guaranteed you endless prowess in bed. It was Taali who brought me a handful of sugar lumps—not in the way of a subtle message, I hope.

Afterward we went to the Artists Quarter. Taali rejected the offer of a full-sized nude statue of herself. Instead, I happily paid for her portrait in oils—a wonderful work and very quickly done, God bless virtuality. By then, we were fed up with walking, so we teleported to the inn where we went up to my room to hang the picture on the wall.

For some reason, Taali decided she had to choose the right place. She climbed on a chair and leaned against the wall hugging the heavy portrait. I was faced with the strong curve of her bare back covered with the tattooed flowers rustling in the wind. Unable to help myself, I laid my hands on her waist. The flowers shifted, restless. Taali froze. My hands moved up and forward, gradually disappearing under the silk of her dress. The flowers raged, lifelike, beginning their combat.

The picture, you said? I did hang it the following morning.