“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“Fine! Whatever!” Fuming, Karalti sunk back down on her heels. Shooting us dark looks over one shoulder, she wrapped her arms around her knees and began muttering to herself. Even in human form, the bird-like mimicry sounded weird: like a demon grumbling into a bad radio.
“Anyway, yeah. As you said: excluding the quests that rely on renown leaves us with the Happy Fun Time Swamp Adventure, the caravan, and sidequests,” I said aloud, picking up my conversation with Suri. “My vote is that we get Vash back first. Bringing him home will open up a lot of shit for us, including sidequests. I’d bet real money that most of the ‘Hold the Line’ quests only appear once you have a certain level of renown in the Fort.”
“Huh. What tier do you reckon they open at?”
I opened my mouth to ask her what tiers were, but then remembered I was a strong, independent man who could just wiki it. “Hang on.”
I queried ‘Renown Tiers’, and called up the relevant article:
Renown
Renown is the measure of fame or infamy you possess in a locale. In every location where you complete (or fail to complete) quests, you can potentially gain renown. Renown is important for players interested in Mass Combat.
Like most things in Archemi, Renown is accrued through points. After accumulating a certain number of renown points, you gain bonuses or penalties to dealing with people in your locale. The size of the locale where you command fame or terror varies depending on your renown tier. The tiers are as follows:
0-300 - Stranger: Unknown and unnotable.
301-700 - Adventurer: Some people have heard of you, and neighborhoods where you completed adventures are friendly/hostile. You can gain the alliance of small units.
701-1081 - Local Hero/Villain: You are a person of note in your city, able to command respect, fear, or both. You can potentially command loyalty from a medium-sized organization.
1080-2217 - Public Figure: You are well-known everywhere in your locale. Bards begin composing and singing about you, spreading the news of your deeds. You can command small armies under a General or other important figure.
2219-5628 - Idol: You are known across your nation and are sought after for your abilities. You can potentially command larger armies as a general.
5629-12450 - Celebrity: Your deeds have spread internationally, and your fame is recognizable across borders. You may command generals in warfare.
12451+ - Legend: Your deeds will go down in history, heroic or villainous. You may qualify to rule a kingdom.
View individual tiers for information on bonuses, penalties, and other perks.
“Probably just the Adventurer rank. That’s the tier where people are talking about you to each other,” I replied, closing the window. “I’m betting that you need ‘Public Figure’ to successfully command an army.”
“That’s a lot of renown,” Karalti said. “These quests give like… six hundred total?”
“Yeah. I’m guessing the side-quests give twenty to fifty each.” Suri answered her. “So if we clear five or six of those, we should have enough to turn this place around.”
I listened, rubbing my hand over my mouth in thought. After they finished, I nodded. “Yeah. I think we should stay together for the main quests and then take the sidequests individually. Rin will probably take any magitech quests. Suri, what do you want dibs on?”
“Combat training, rank and file discipline, anything like that.” Suri replied. “Karalti?”
“Uhh.” The dragon looked anxiously to me. “I dunno what I’m good at.”
“You’re good at lots of things, Tidbit,” I said. “Vlachians worship the dragon gods. You can inspire them and give spiritual counsel or something.”
Her eyes got big. “Yeah! I can do that!”
“I can heal,” I added. “And that’s probably going to make some quick friends here. If we go at this strategically, we can maximize our time. We have to get as many of these things done as we can. But Vash first.”
Suri nodded. “Yeah. Looks like we have to go digging for info on the Endlar. How dangerous do you think it is? I’ve never seen a swamp.”
I paused for a second. “...You’ve never seen a swamp?”
She flashed me an exasperated look. “Mate, I’m from the bloody desert. Ninety-nine percent of my life was spent underground, and the rest of it, I was traveling with caravans or fighting in arenas. I know they’re wet and crocodiles live there, and that’s about it.”
“Uhh… well, the short answer to your question is that swamps suck. The Endlar is apparently enough of a challenge to keep thirty thousand undead at bay, so I’m guessing its reputation is pretty much on point.”
Suri rocked back onto her hands and sighed. “All that for a hundred renown points. This castle we’re fighting for better have a fuckin’ hot tub.”
“You know who will know all about the Endlar? Yanik soldiers.” Karalti finally circled back to join me on the bed, rolling onto it and balling up against me. “They live out there.”
“Yeah. They should be able to tell us more.” I looked over to Suri. “But seriously, if we don’t eat shit out there at least once, I’ll be really surprised. You need to be careful. You can’t afford to die.”
“Fighting things bigger than me is what I’m made for.” Suri flashed me a sharp-toothed smile. “I can’t afford to die. So I won’t.”
My HUD chirped. Suri stopped talking and Karalti perked up, suddenly alert. They were getting a call as well.
“Hi guys!” Rin’s voice hummed against my inner ear. “Sorry for the late reply, but it’s madness over in munitions and engineering right now. These trebuchets are all warped from the humidity, and-”
“How’s Soma going?” I cut her off just as her voice sped up into the early stages of a nerd rant. “You able to wrangle him?”
“Oh, he’s not that bad: he’s just not a military person and Istvan is driving him mad,” she replied breezily. “He’s a genius in his field, but that field isn’t like… this. Until now, he basically just lived at the university in Litvy. But his father died recently, and now he’s expected to be something he’s not.”
“Istvan is driving Soma mad?” I looked to Suri, who shrugged.
“Yeah. Soma says he drinks because he’s upset about his family and Lord Bolza, but he won’t talk about what really happened in Karhad to anyone. On top of that, Istvan doesn’t take technology seriously. He’s got a phobia of magic that has leaked down to the soldiers and has absolutely crippled the engineers’ ability to do their jobs. Istvan wants these old-fashioned cannons and things, even though there’s much better equipment they could be using, and it costs lives every time the Demon assaults the Fort.”
“Right.” I reached out and wrapped an arm around Karalti’s shoulders as she snuggled in against my side. “We heard a totally different story from Istvan.”
“I know, right? The two of them can’t agree on anything. Istvan wants infantry and cavalry on the ground to take out the Demon’s mana sources, while Soma thinks he might as well just throw the men into a meat grinder. Explosives, magic and turrets would be more efficient defenses against a giant shambling mob of zombies. The problem is, they’re both right. If Soma could just trust Istvan with the men and Istvan would let the engineers do their jobs, we could probably beat the undead back like… tomorrow. Except with those caravans being held up...”
“You got the quest chain too?” Suri asked.
“Yeah, I did! But the combat ones are definitely too much for me,” the Mercurion replied.
“I disagree,” Suri said. “Rin, we’ve got a tank, a striker, and... whatever Karalti is like this. We need ranged and magic support. Your turrets can take the heat off us with both. We really need you out there.”
“Umm... I don’t know.” There was a barely concealed note of panic in her voice. “I’d have to find a way to modify Lovelace and Hopper to be able to deal with mud, and we don’t have much time.”
“If you can do it tonight, do it.” I replied. “Suri’s right. You took that Combat Engineer class so you could go on adventures. We need you.”
“Okay,” Rin agreed reluctantly. “G-Give me like... until tomorrow morning. Soma has some amphibious traction designs here already. I can probably work something out.”
“Awesome. Also, we were talking about how to handle these side-quests. The plan is to go and fish Vash out of the swamp, then tackle some chores around the Fort. We’ll handle Istvan’s people and you handle Soma’s. Does that suit you?”
“Sure! There’s a lot of yellow rings where I am here.”
‘Yellow rings’ were the floating side-quest markers that appeared around some people’s Coronas. “Great. Suri? Karalti? Sound good to you?”
“Sure does.” Suri clapped her hands on her thighs. “Okay, kids. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 17
In my sober moments, I told myself I’d picked up the Healing skill tree because it was fun and interesting. But if I was being honest with myself, a big part of my hunger to learn was because it made me feel like I could conquer disease, which was the only thing that had ever kicked my ass and gotten away with it. Healing skills also had the side benefit of making me popular, because people don’t like to be sick or in pain. In a world without magical healing, these skills were always needed.
While Suri split for the barracks and Karalti for the mess hall, I hurried toward the Fort’s hospital: a squat, square, three-story building within a small courtyard to the north of the parade ground, lit by torches and a couple of barrel fires. As soon as I entered the courtyard, the metallic stench of rotten meat hit me, and I gagged. Yiiiikes.
Even at night, there were a lot of sick people and a commotion going on just outside the door to the hospital. Two acid-burned Vlachian soldiers were screaming at a medic in a bloody apron who was standing between them and the entryway. The man was screaming right back at them.
“I told you useless worms four times already - there are no more Cryptbane Potions!” The medic yelled. “I know that’s what you need, but you’re stuck in the line until we get more ingredients, and there’s nothing I can do about it!”
“Can’t you see he’s dying?!” The soldier shouted back, gesturing at his friend with both hands. “He’s dying! I’m dying! Are you going to let us be turned into one of those monsters!?”
“You’re not dying yet. Grave Rot won’t show symptoms for two days and a night, and the battle was only two hours ago. I you don’t get back into that line, I’ll hack a limb off and give you a reason to be at the front!” The medic pushed his spectacles back up along his beaky nose and gestured angrily at the straggling queue waiting to receive help. Some of them were very badly off - gauze clamped over bloody missing eyes, broken limbs, burns and arrow wounds. “Do you see these people? You’ll get the damn potions when we get our herbs!”
At that moment, a golden ring appeared behind the medic’s head, rotating in an eye-catching way: a side-quest’s marker.
“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but what herbs do you need?” I sidled up and inserted myself into the argument before the pleading soldier could get any more aggressive. All three men turned on me.
“And which cursed ocean spat you out into our conversation?” The medic demanded.
“Dragozin Hector. Count of Racsa and wannabe Healer.” I replied with a salute. “What do you need?”
The medic blanched, then sketched a deep bow. “My apologies, Your Grace, I haven’t seen you around this shit-wagon of a fort before. And the answer to your question is everything. Bandages, beds, hands, herbs. Pardon my inquiry, but you are not Vlachian. Where do you hail from?”
“Tungaant,” I replied. “Theoretically.”
“Oh, thank the gods. If you’re half as good a healer as Vash, we need you. Desperately.” The wild-eyed medic grabbed me by the arm and began pulling as he turned and opened one of the hospital doors. “You two! Get back in line! No more pushing ahead!”
“But-!”
The heavy wooden door slammed behind us, locking us into an overcrowded, reeking room. Nurses, male and female, moved among the patients, binding broken limbs, stuffing organs back into bellies, dosed and drained and stitched. They all looked as exhausted as the medic beside me.
“These are the victims from the last big assault, four days ago. We keep the urgent care patients here on the first floor,” he said bleakly. Then he seemed to remember himself. “My apologies, I didn’t introduce myself. I am Lazar Skaliz, the head medic here.”
“Where’re you from?” I asked.
“Karhad, Your Grace. I escaped with Commander Istvan Arshak from Egbolt Castle. And as you can see, we’re up to our eyeballs.” He gestured at the room. “Worst problem is the damned Grave Rot. That’s what those boys out there have - melancholic illness, attacks the blood and bone marrow. Second stage looks like leprosy. It kills you, and then you become one of them. The undead.”
Melancholic diseases were cold and dry. I nodded. “What do you need to cure it?”
“If you catch it early? Colloidal Gold, Bogbean, Swamp Rosemallow, and alcohol.” He rattled off the ingredients by heart. “It’s an expensive medicine. And if a man has progressed to the leprous stage, you have to add Stingcrab Blood and take the risk of Stranging.”
“Wait. I have… exactly none of those things.” I checked my ingredients. “I can make Colloidal Gold, but I’m running low on Aqua Regis. Teach me how to brew the potion, and I’ll make what I have. You can cure some people, at least.”
“Yes. Better than none.” Lazar sighed and looked up to the ceiling.
[Lazar Skaliz would like to send you: Recipe: Cryptbane Potion]
I accepted, and added it to the ever growing list of drugs I was able to brew in a bathtub. “Thanks.”
“There’s little point in thanking me. The ingredients for Cryptbane grow out in the Endlar, but who’s able to go out there?”
“We are,” I said. “Me, my dragon, and our companions. We’re setting out to find Vash Dorha in the morning..”
“His body, you mean. Still... if you are brave enough to go out there, I won’t refuse you.” Lazar concentrated again, and I got an alert.
New Side-Quest: A Rose on the Grave
Lazar Skaliz, the Head Medic of Korona Fort Hospital, is in desperate need of supplies for the potions used to heal his patients. Collect 100 each of Bogbean, Swamp Rosemallow and Stingcrab Blood.
Reward: EXP, Skill EXP, New Recipes, +25 Renown (Myszno Defense Force), unlock Lazar Skaliz in the Heroes menu.
“No worries, I’ll get those when I’m out there,” I said. “Are there any other herbs you need?”
Lazar shrugged. “All of them. Whatever you can bring us will help. We will pay.”
My first thought was ‘yay, money’, but then I remembered - renown, in this quest, was way more valuable than cash. For now, though, I’d let him think I was that mercenary. “Sure. I’ll bring you back a bunch of them, and we’ll work it out from there. By the way, if I help you on your rounds, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about what we can expect out there in the swamp?”
“Information on the Endlar? I’m not the one to ask. Lieutenant Zlaslo would probably know the most of anyone here,” Lazar replied. “He’s Yanik, born and bred. Mind you, he’s terribly sick right now, and we have no idea what’s wrong with him. Nothing we’ve tried has worked. Good luck getting anything out of him. He’s roiled in the grip of a terrible fever these last few days.”
Dammit: I’d used my Purify ability for the day, so there was no way to lay on hands and fix him. “Other Yanik soldiers would know about the swamp, too - right?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” The doctor was glancing anxiously at his patients now, straining to keep himself talking to me. “All Yanik will talk a big talk, but most of them are like Istvan, born and bred in cities or towns. Their parents or grandparents might have walked out of the swamp generations ago. They’ll know myths and sto
ries, and what they saw of it when we marched from Karhad to the Prezyemi Line, but you’d have to search the ranks to find anyone with Zlaslo’s knowledge.”
“Right.” I sighed. “Thanks. I’ll go see him and do my best.”
The medic nodded, relieved. “He’s on the third floor. You’ll see his armor rack up there.”
I waded through the moaning bodies lying on beds and stretchers, and clumped up the wooden stairs to the third floor. It was neater up here, with fewer beds with enough space between them that they could be, albeit barely, separated from one another by thin, ragged curtains. There were boxes of herbs and medical supplies stacked up against one wall. My fingers twitched. When one of the nurses went behind a curtain to attend to a patient, I stole over and had a look inside the crates.
An inventory panel jumped up:
Lobelia x 20
Water Mint x 50
Lotus Flower x 30
Blazing Star x 15
Iris x 20
Kings Grass x 10
Green Moss x 50
Hawthorn bark x 10
“Ooh. Fancy plants.” Tempted as I was, I didn’t take anything - just closed the window. If I needed anything to treat the Lieutenant, I’d know where to find them.
Several of the beds had armor hung out in front, but picking Zlaslo’s was easy enough. The Lieutenant’s armor looked like a ghillie suit, made of sturdy leather and chain and stitched with lichen-like netting. The joints were padded, and the back of it had bones, bark and silk foliage sewn onto it.
“Zlaslo?” I called out.
There was a thin groan from behind the curtain.
I let myself in and found pretty much what I’d expected. Zlaslo’s gray-brown skin was ashy and pale, his cheeks and neck flushed red, the covers over his body damp with sweat. His eyes were dark and bright with fever, and he slowly writhed on the bed, as if in agony. Like Istvan, he wore his hair long. Unlike Istvan, he had his hair styled into long clay-covered dreadlocks, and a number of bone and gold piercings through both ears. There was a bedpan beside his bed. It looked unusually gross: the stuff in it was green.
Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset Page 94
