I rubbed my arm. “I don’t worship any gods, but I work for one. It’s kind of like a side job.”
“Meaning?”
I shrugged, and pulled my glove off to show him what lay beneath. “Meaning one of them put a stamp on me, and asks me to run errands for him.”
The Mark of Matir was a nine-pointed star that was similar to a chaos star, with an extra arrow and a question-mark like symbol at the center. It was burned on like a primitive tattoo, but the black lines almost seemed to float underneath the skin.
“Bogdi vris!” His hand flew to his mouth. “The sigil of Chernobog!”
“You mean Matir, right?” I pulled the glove back on and tucked my sleeve in.
“He is The Keeper of Night, the Prince of a Thousand Names. The dragons called him Matir. In Vlachia and the Sathbar Plains, we call him Chernobog, the Black God. And you… you are more than an adventurer.” Matthias spread his hands. “I cannot believe my eyes, but… here you stand. Is it true, then? Does Chernobog stir?”
“Seems like it.” I nodded. “I don’t really know much about him though, to be honest.”
“It is something for discussion later. For now, we should get a drink. I will send someone to see to your hookwing and restore her health.”
Karalti yawned, flashing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Soooo sleepy.”
“We’ll get you to bed soon, Tidbit.” I thought back. I spoke aloud to Matthias. “A drink sounds good. Is there any way we can arrange a bed for Karalti?”
“Of course! Come, we shall see to it at once. And perhaps I can tell you what I know of Chernobog… his mark on you surely explains why you desire a pilgrimage to Myszno.”
So much had happened in the two weeks since my death that I’d barely had time to sit down and think, let alone grind out levels and skills. I’d arrived in the game in a slave ship, led a rebellion, and in short order found myself trying to join an order of dragon knights. They’d turned out to be assholes, and since escaping with Karalti, we had been running and hiding from them and their agents. For the second time this month, I was back on an airship. But this time, I wasn’t a slave. And thanks to Karalti’s mother, neither was she.
We were well out over the Bay of Knives, the channel separating the Ilian Peninsula from the rest of the continent of Artana by the time that the four of us – me, Kirov, Father Mathias and Karalti – gathered together in the Royal Suite on board the Hóleány. There were thankfully no royals aboard, so we spread out like fat men on a sofa. Karalti was a snoring ball of wings and scales on the grand bed, curled in the middle of the red silk sheets. Me, Kirov and Matthias sat around a small but well-stocked bar, drinking a little bit of everything and a lot of some things.
“Slivovitz!” Kirov boomed, setting a shotglass of clear liquor in front of me. “This will put hair on your stones, rytier! To the Volod!”
“To the Volod!” I picked it up and threw it back. It was fruity, but strong enough that my eyes watered. Still, before being uploaded to Archemi, I was a Korean-American dropout who’d hung around bikers and then soldiered for five years. All of those circumstances meant that I could definitely hold my own in the liquor department.
“Rytier Hector, we come to you with a grave matter indeed,” Kirov said, shaking his head and setting his glass down. “It is no exaggeration to say that Taltos, and indeed all of Vlachia, owes the dragons its foundation. Our cities, our culture, even the land itself was shaped by the mighty Solonkratsu. We venerate their gods, but especially Khors, the God of the Forge. The Church of the Creator is the closest ally of the state, giving us inspiration and a moral framework by which to live.”
“Okay.” Ugh, religion. Not entirely sure where this was going, I helped myself to another shot of slivovitz.
“Something is preying on my brothers in the city of Taltos.” Matthias gestured animatedly as he spoke. “Priests of Khors have been murdered by some manner of terrible spirit.”
Kirov muttered. “Ghosts. Bah.”
The priest shot him a sharp glance. “Do you really think a flesh-and-blood assassin could have convinced Franz Darko to commit suicide? Impossible. The ocean would rise to the skies before that happened.”
“Wait a sec.” I held up a hand. “You just said these guys were murdered.”
“They were. Franz would not kill himself: suicide is anathema to Khors, a coward’s death.” Matthias’ scholarly face hardened. “No… something killed Father Abel, and something killed Darko, and the same being has killed one of our great prodigies, Brother Orban.”
“So two senior priests and one junior priest have been murdered so far?” I asked.
They nodded.
I studied Matthias. “Why do you think it’s a ghost?”
“I am a scholar of the supernatural, among other things.” Matthias shook his head, then reached for the bottle. “Kirov, tell him the details of what you told me. They nauseate me to repeat them.”
“Very well.” Kirov slouched back into his chair, his hands resting on his stomach. “The first to die was Father Lazlo Abel, a patriarch of the church and tutor to the royal throne. He was beaten to death in his own study with one of his own books, and a quill forced into his eye.”
“Jeee-zus.” I grimaced, and threw back my next shot.
“The second to die was Father Franz Darko,” the knight continued. “As His Grace said, he appears to have committed suicide. He was found hanging from the rafters in his sacred forge. The room was locked from the inside. We did not assume it had any connection to Father Abel’s demise-”
“But I do,” Matthias interrupted. “I know Franz like my own brother. He was a ferocious man, full of fire and spirit. He was a man of honor, and even if he were to kill himself, he would do it in the manner of a warrior. He would not hang himself like a brigand, and especially not inside his place of worship.”
“The third victim was found only days ago.” Kirov’s dark eyes glittered with worry as he spoke. “Brother Orban… he was a great Mastersmith, a senior monk and a protégé of the High Forgemaster, Agoston Toth. Orban went missing in the catfolk ghetto, where he was serving the poor with his craft. Two days later, he was staked out in the public gardens for all to see. I received a letter detailing the scene. What I read was… grotesque.”
I frowned. “Give me details. How did they find the body?”
The knight sighed. “His neck was wrapped with barbed wire, the kind found on the district wall separating the ghetto from the rest of the city. His body was drenched in sewerage, a chamber pot left on his head. We found a rat in his mouth, rammed down into his throat so only the head protruded. That was what killed him.”
“Not the staking or the wire?”
“No. The staking was… surgical in its precision. It is possible to keep a man alive on such a device. The wire was not tight enough. And the rat was still alive, though barely. It had kicked his throat apart.”
“That is some horror-movie-level shit right there,” I said. “That kind of murder doesn’t scream ‘ghost’ to me, though.”
“No one saw or heard a thing,” Matthias replied, lighting up a small pipe. His hands shook as he coordinated the match and sandpaper. “The city guard did not see anything. Not the staking, not the screams… nothing. He did not have time to fight back. It is as if he materialized in the gardens in the dead of night.”
“Nothing human could do this,” Kirov insisted. “But there are creatures with the kind of strength to commit such atrocities. This assassin – monster, ghost, whatever it is – has been named the Slayer of Taltos. It must be destroyed. That is why the Volod ordered that we search for suitable adventurers capable of dealing with such a creature.”
“And you are a Starborn, are you not?” Matthias added.
Yep – this was leading to a quest. A big one. I folded my hands on the table. “Yeah. I’m Starborn. What is your Volod offering to the person who brings this creature in?”
“That, I cannot say. It will be exceedingly gener
ous, but you will have to discuss the reward with him,” Kirov said. “But to start with, you and your dragon will be given full hospitality and guaranteed sanctuary in Vlachia. Will you help us?”
New Quest: The Slayer of Taltos
Priests of Khors, the draconic god of Fire and Craftsmanship, are being murdered in the Vlachian capital of Taltos. Matthias, himself a priest of Khors, and his bodyguard Sir Kirov have been recalled from their mission in Ilia and tasked with finding a hero capable of bringing the Slayer to ground. They believe you can help them restore order in Taltos and bring the murderer to justice.
Difficulty: Hard
Recommended Level: 12-15
Rewards: EXP, Fame in Vlachia. Speak with the king, Volod Andrik Corvinus III, to negotiate your material rewards.
Special: This is an evolving quest. Updates will appear in your log.
The offer of sanctuary by itself was tempting. Wherever we went, the Mata Argis was bound to follow – even if I took Karalti back to Tuungant, like I’d originally intended. But if I was directly under the protection of a foreign king… well, that offered a measure of safety. Not only that, but I had to get my ass to Vlachia soon anyway. I still didn’t trust Matir, but I was willing to fulfil the terms of the quest and see where it led. I could do this quest and level up, then head to Myszno.
I looked over at Karalti. She had rolled partly onto her back, her foreclaws clasped over her eyes. She was sound asleep, snoring away despite the noise we were making. The fight with the Mata Argis had exhausted her.
I hit confirm with a small nod, then stood and offered a hand to Matthias to shake. “Fine. Count me in.”
Chapter 5
Three days later.
We woke with the sun onboard the Hóleány. Or more accurately, I woke with the sun. I was curled around Karalti under a down comforter, her back and wings arched against the front of my body. The single level gain had made a huge difference to her. She had doubled in size, and her scrawny hatchling neck was filling out, becoming smooth and muscular. She was still smaller than me, but even though she was the little spoon, she still somehow managed to take up two thirds of the bed.
I didn't wake her straightaway. Instead, I slowly pulled back the covers and drank in the sight of her. The little dragon slept on her side, with all six limbs curled against her body, her head tucked down, the tip of her nose sticking out from under the blankets. The flaky dull scales had been replaced by new, bright blue-black ones that practically glowed under light. They were smooth and warm to the touch. By the dawn light, her dark scales rippled with deep veins of color. It was an eerie, beautiful effect, as if she was sculpted from perfect black opal.
Now and then, I reminded myself that she wasn’t real, but inevitably concluded that it didn’t matter. Archemi was my reality now, and not a day went by where I wasn't grateful to have Karalti in my life. She was curious, mischievous, adorable, and needy, but she was also deeply loving, with a powerful need to please and to learn. I stroked over her folded wings, her horns, her shoulder. She continued to snooze on while I bought up her character sheet for review.
Karalti - Queen Dragon
Level 2 Hatchling
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 17
Stamina: 13
Will: 15
Wisdom: 5
Intelligence: 12
HP: 250/250
MP: 50/50
Affinity: Darkness/Life
EXP: 374 (233 to next level)
Lexica: 2
Spells: 0
Skills:
Acrobatics 3
- Aerial Acrobatics 4
Dive
[Karalti has two unspent skill points!]
Abilities:
Gift of the Blood: See detailed description for more information.
Eviscerate: A power attack with the front claws.
(New!) Ghost Fire: 65-90 damage; sticky fire that burns underwater. 2 Charges, 30 min recharge time.
Bite: 25-30 damage.
Gore: A dragon’s unarmed attacks do double damage and cause Bleeding.
Spells:
None.
Karalti had two unspent Skill Points from her last level and one new Lexica point. She was also halfway to Level 3 already – probably because she’d landed some fire damage on the Level 25 Mage. At Level 3, she’d be able to take her first spell, but I was going to hold off selecting one until Level 4 or 5. Each one of my dragon’s levels came with a selection of two possible spells. Provided she had the required number of Lexica points, Karalti could learn either of the spells before or at her current level. This meant that if you hoarded points, you could get better spells later on – though when I brought up her Magic tree, I noticed that some powerful spells required ‘lesser’ versions of the same spell to be selectable. Greater Darkness needed Darkness as a prerequisite; Telekinesis needed Presdigitation.
Level 3 had a good pair of basic spells: Detect Magic and Shadow Double. Each one cost 3 Lexica points, so she would be able to take one. I was going to have to see what kind of combat role she played at larger sizes. Both spells were potentially very useful, especially as I was not capable of using any magic – just special abilities that chewed up Adrenaline Points and-or HP to execute powerful attacks and evasive maneuvers.
With a hand resting on her snoring flank, I brought up her Path menu:
This was also something I already had to think about. Dragons levelled differently than players. Superficially, it was similar in that Karalti got to take a Path and then an Advanced Path, which in this game was equivalent to taking a Class. There were some differences. Players started out with a basic general Path – Warrior, Mage, Specialist, or Artificer. At Level 5, they had the option to take a specialized class, or Advanced Path.
Karalti had to grow to Level 5 just to take her basic Path, which was less like a character class and more like a developmental track for her that shaped her strengths and weaknesses. She wouldn’t get to take an Advanced Path until her soft cap at Level 30. I assumed that was because of how powerful dragons were at levels 1-30 compared to the average player character or NPC. Advanced Paths were an endgame feature for dragons.
Draconic Paths: The Path of Power and the Path of Alacrity
Dragons mature slowly, and like humans, they can only take an Advanced Path when they are experienced adults. A dragon reaches adulthood at Level 30. From hatching to maturity, your Queen dragon can invest points into one of two basic Paths: The Path of Power and the Path of Alacrity.
Path of Power: This Path focuses on your dragon’s strength and offensive abilities, improving their ability to take and deal damage, and the strength of their breath weapon.
Path of Alacrity: This Path focuses on your dragon’s mobility and defensive abilities, improving their speed, agility, and tactical movement at high altitude.
At first, I’d been disappointed in the Path ‘gap’ between Level 2 and Level 5, but that gap had a purpose. It was there so you had time to think about what Path you were going to take your mount along. It was impossible to tell what kind of personality or native talent your dragon had at Level 1 or 2, but I knew I’d have a good idea by Level 5. Not only that, but at Level 5, I was pretty sure she’d be big enough to start flying – which meant we’d be able to experiment as a team before we committed to one of the two paths: Power or Alacrity.
My dragon had two unspent skill points. I decided to put another point into her existing Acrobatics skill, bringing it to Acrobatics 4, and one into a new skill, Stealth. Stealth covered both sneaking and hiding. At her size and level – and given that we were headed for an urban environment – it made sense to make sure she was able to fly nimbly and successfully hide if she had to.
"Morning, sleepyhead," I said, closing the HUD menu. "Time to get up. We've got training.”
Karalti snored on.
"Come on, kiddo." I gave her a couple of shakes.
"Uugooo..." Karalti balled up like a cat, tucking her head under her wing.<
br />
"Yep. Training. You’re gonna be the best flier in the world, remember?" I pushed off her and made my way around her tail to sit on the edge of the bed. "Come on, chop-chop."
"Nuu. Karalti sleep." Her telepathic voice was blurry.
"Nope. Karalti gets out of bed and embraces the suck." I was beginning to sound like my old NCO. "Up and at 'em, sunshine."
"Nuuuuuu. Sun can go die." But she untucked her head and peered at me blearily. Her eyes were even more stunning than her skin: a tight bicolor core of black and pure amethyst purple, shot through with silver. "Karalti hate the sun."
"Me too, but we need to get stronger. We're doing hoops and beams today."
While my dragon groaned and rustled around under the covers, I dropped and started doing push-ups. There were no Stat Points to assign in Archemi – you got what you trained for. If you wanted to raise Strength, you lifted weights, overloaded your pack and marched around, or worked a forge and hammer. If you wanted to improve your Dexterity, you ran laps, learned gymnastics, or practiced knife throwing, parkour, or similar activities. Same with all the others. You wanted more INT? You read books and learned stuff. Wisdom? I’d found that thinking about strategy and tactics, playing games, and getting to know NPCs reliably improved Wisdom. The difference between Archemi and IRL, the thing that made this process fun, was that you got immediate, tangible benefits for training. Your muscles pumped when you gained a point. Your mind got keener, your vision improved. You saw the improvements training made to your body, your mind, and your Attack, Defense, Evasion, and other abilities.
It reminded me a lot of the training program I’d used to get fit when I’d really started to get into motorcycle stunt work. Being an enormous dork, I used augmented reality apps that added an RPG element to my training, and had worked on becoming a ‘Level 15 Barbarian’ by checking off workouts over weeks and months. Karalti leveled her stats exactly the same way, and so did Cutthroat. Thus, training.
I'd finished two sets of 50 push-ups by the time Karalti slithered out of bed. She yawned, revealing twin rows of razor-sharp teeth, and smacked her jaws together couple of times. "Karalti hates hoops."
Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset Page 39
