A Second Chance

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Don’t let her slip away!” shouted the orc. Swearing, I took my newly procured instrument between my teeth and, securing my grip on Aniram’s hair, held her like a loved one, enwreathing her with all my limbs and my tail. She squirmed frenziedly, biting and scratching, and beating me with her tail. Her HP dropped instantaneously to one and froze. The archdemoness’s luck had run out — she couldn’t kill me in the training camp.

  “Stone! Hoop! Seal the outer boundary!” Concise orders were given. The death throes of my captive gradually abated, and my body was wracked with a chill. I opened my eyes. Alongside Gurt stood Uldaron, the head of the camp, and Abigail, the priestess who had purified me. The latter’s hands glowed, creating a light dome. Aniram wilted completely into a rag doll.

  “You can let her go now,” commanded Uldaron. I unclenched my fists, and the prisoner collapsed to the ground. The light of Eluna was concentrated on the archdemoness, releasing me from my distress. The orc helped me to disentangle myself and stand up.

  “Not a bad catch.” Gurt grabbed the pick from me, nearly knocking out my teeth in the process. “Well balanced. Sturdy. Could take a lot of heads off.”

  I looked dubiously at the ordinary-looking pick. If you removed the dark fog curling around the handle, it was no different from any other. Gurt turned it this way and that, clicking his tongue, before reluctantly giving it back to me.

  Demon Pick of Power

  Description: A rare object, used for mining ore.

  Damage: 10 (Physical)

  Mining +1

  Strength +1

  Stamina +1

  Possibility to exploit Demon Seams without forfeit

  “Go and see master Dheire,” Gurt advised me. “He’ll teach you to use the pick correctly.”

  “Don’t distract him, Gurt,” said Uldaron with a reminder of the reason for our mini-muster. Aniram was drained off all willpower, and sat staring into space. “Go, Kvalen. You must be bound.”

  I obeyed, though entering the dome of Light was particularly unpleasant.

  “I had to burn out your internal demonic essence, otherwise Barliona wouldn’t become home for you,” said Abigail. “But we have found a way to return tieflings to combat. The spurious power of a demon. You can use your abilities again, though I should warn you straight away that your demon must remain a demon, and conscious. You can’t clap on everlasting chains like the demonologists. You are obliged constantly to crush any attempt to resist. Remember, every thirty minutes that you use your demonic abilities, the demon will try to hurt you. If it succeeds in taking the upper hand over you, it will return to the Abyss, and you will have to endure the subjugation procedure again. Now get ready! You must put your demon to sleep and strengthen the bond. I shall restore her will.”

  Two new buttons appeared on my Abilities panel. One was flashing fast and furious, inviting me to fulfil Abigail’s demand and complete the subjugation scene. I followed the directions and Aniram disappeared. At last I was a real player with abilities.

  Training a Demon scene completed

  Abilities gained:

  Demon Strike: You project purified demonic energy at your opponent, inflicting 100% damage to their Attack parameter. Range: 50 meters. Cannot be used in motion. Requires an active demon. Cost: 20 Energy.

  Demon Retribution: A passive ability. You subjugate a demon and gain the ability to use demon magic. The demon resists subjugation, creating a diversion once every 30 minutes. The demon chooses the optimal strategy to ship you to the Gray Lands. If you die, the demon is freed and returns to the Abyss.

  Demon Invocation: You invoke/dismiss your subjugated demon.

  “A good catch,” said Uldaron praisingly. “It’s not every tiefling who can fish out an archdemon first time round. If you can get along with it, you’ll become a worthy warrior. Abigail, purify the pick.”

  The priestess directed the light of Eluna onto the procured object. I was concerned the properties of the pick might change during purification, but apart from the fog, everything remained in place.

  “Let’s go.” The orc motioned me toward the newbies’ assault course. “I want to see how you use the abilities you’ve gained.”

  Task received: Demon Strike training

  Description: A regular task. Use the Demon Strike ability successfully five times in succession.

  Reward:

  Experience: +5

  Reputation with Light of Barliona faction: +1

  I went with my gut feeling — no changes. The fact that there was an archdemon somewhere close by, albeit asleep, was a matter of indifference to me. Throwing the pick over my shoulder, I trudged off after Gurt.

  “Kvalen, wait a second!” A player hailed me by the entrance to the course. Shukir the Vaunted, a level-three human. He wasn’t as well equipped as Braksed and Kurtune, yet he was also clearly no simple player. His leather coat sparkled with chainmail reinforcements, and his patchwork pants looked built to last, but the most striking thing distinguishing him from all the others was that he was wearing shoes. I stopped and waited for him as he hurried toward me.

  “An interesting show you put on up in the tower,” said Shukir genially. “I’ve been here a week, and that’s the first time a player’s emerged from the Abyss hugging a demon. Can you show me the video? I want to have a look at the beast’s mug. We have to know who we’re up against, otherwise it’s scary as hell. I’ll even pay you. I haven’t got much gold, but I can find twenty.”

  “You just want the face?” I asked. Shukir made a good first impression, especially after Braksed, Kurtune and Eredani. He told me about his problem, asked for help, even offered to pay… Wait a minute! That was a classic manipulation ruse. And as if to confirm my suspicion, he added:

  “Actually, the whole jump would be better. I still have two more jumps, and what if I bump into one of them? Did the pick come from the Abyss too? What are its properties? Here, take the twenty.”

  Crafty fucker! Offers an exchange, gives me twenty gold, then mentions the pick, shifting my attention to it. If I was less cynical, I’d have taken the money and gladly helped the afflicted soul. Then I’d have kicked myself. Barliona is no reality — a verbal contract and the voluntary wish of each participant in the deal is enough. I would have to part with my video. But Shukir was overlooking one thing — two could play at that game.

  “No, twenty’s not enough.” I dug my heels in, playing the simpleton, and declined the exchange. A demon was nothing compared to what the camp chief whispered to me after the jump. My Reputation had flown way up.

  “Give me a break!” Shukir didn’t believe me. He couldn’t not say anything; he didn’t like demons.

  “I swear on Barliona! Up there Uldaron told me how to become a worthy warrior. Only an idiot would leak information like that for twenty. And anyway, I should probably offer it to the Phoenixes first.”

  I was enshrouded in a snow-white glow — Barliona had accepted my oath. You weren’t allowed to misuse such affirmations of your words, on pain of punishment, but this was a fitting moment.

  “Consider you’ve already offered it to the Phoenixes.” Shukir persevered, taking the bait. “I’m here on their behalf.”

  “You’re lying.” I eyed him warily. “Why would they want to reset a player? Thanks, of course, but I’ll contact them directly later. Maybe. Or maybe I won’t. Rumor has it the Dark Legion is also buying up information.”

  “A hundred gold for the video of your dive.” Shukir upped the stakes dramatically. “And another fifty for the pick.”

  I was about to milk him a bit more, when Eredani suddenly crawled out of his corner and unceremoniously butted into our conversation.

  “Kvalen, don’t agree. A video from the tower is worth substantially more than that. You’re being taken for a ride.”

  “Butt out, Eredani, I’m done with you.” Shukir’s amiability faded.

  Eredani paid him no attention and continued to talk me round, but I was sceptical of his desire to h
elp.

  “There aren’t many demon hunters. Even fewer tieflings. Tiefling demon hunters are in single figures. You should already have worked out for yourself the specifics of our mechanism. If Uldaron told you something, keep it to yourself!”

  Keeping calm on the outside was difficult. What the hell was Eredani doing minding other people’s business? I had to wrap it up, but leave my net cast wide for the future. “Eredani’s right, Shukir. Sorry, but I’m not ready to sell information from Uldaron just yet. I should study the market first, otherwise I’ll be underselling myself.”

  “A thousand gold right now for the full video from the tower!” Shukir had lost his patience.

  The negotiation was back on. I pretended to be looking for support from Eredani, and unexpectedly noticed the shadow of a smirk flit across my congener’s face. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but so articulate that the answer came to me instantly. “Get outta here! Ten for the whole thing, not a penny less.”

  “Are you out of your mind?! Where did you get a price like that from? I’ll give you fifteen hundred for the lot. That’s for your eyes!” Shukir was seething. It was time to make a concession, otherwise the whole deal would break down.

  “Three thousand, but only for the clip of what Uldaron told me. That’s my final offer. I’m not going to haggle myself into a loss.” I wasn’t best pleased with myself, and waved a hand to drive home the point.

  “Deal!” Shukir threw me a clipboard viewer. Shit! Three thousand gold for a few seconds of video! Had everyone gone nuts? I’d have to put in thirteen hours a day for two weeks to earn that sort of money. What was happening in people’s heads that they were prepared to pay so much for a chunk of computer code? The most important thing now was to keep a lid on my jubilation.

  I didn’t even have to cut Uldaron out — the system did it automatically. I just needed to check the excerpt didn’t include anything unpaid for, and press the Exchange button. Slightly short of three thousand entered my account — the Bank was fastidious in regard to its two percent — and the system made a suggestion:

  New specialization available: Trade

  Description: Your ability to drive a hard bargain is impressive. You are a true trader. Every specialization point increases your discount with NPC-traders from 0.1% right up to 50%.

  Accept! As a potential clan chief, this specialization was compulsory.

  “You?!” roared Shukir after looking at the video. The system obligingly censored the player’s vocal outrage which followed. “Where’s the information about levelling up?”

  “That’s all the boss told me,” I replied nonchalantly. Of course the advice to “Gain the upper hand over the archdemon” wasn’t worth three thousand gold, but I wanted to teach Shukir a lesson. If you’re going to manipulate people, you must be prepared to be manipulated yourself.

  “Give me my money back, you bastard!” demanded Shukir. It was verging on the orgasmic to observe his ire-distorted face.

  “The terms of our verbal agreement have been fulfilled, and you’ve received all the information. If you have any objections, refer them to a lawyer.” I could be quite headstrong when the need took me. “If you don’t require any more information, I won’t presume to detain you further and distract you from the game. Have a nice day!”

  I turned around and unhurriedly entered the newbie course. Shukir tried to stop me, yelling threats of divine retribution, but it fell on deaf ears since I had no intention of returning the money. The troublemaker didn’t have access to the course, so he couldn’t hound me there. Eventually things quietened down — the Phoenixes representative had been making a lot of noise. Although no, I was still being shadowed. Eredani stood beside me and, his eyes on everyone training, announced, “I want my cut. I reckon I’m due half.”

  I’d been expecting it ever since he’d come over and tried to help. I turned silently and expectantly toward him.

  “Everyone around here knows Shukir,” he said. “And his business. I knew he’d latch on to you after your tussle with the demon on the tower. Everyone knows you’re a newbie in Barliona, down to the last deer. When I saw you were going to milk him, I decided to help out a bit. You wouldn’t have been able to finagle him out of three thousand on your own. He’s not stupid, but he is a tightwad. The least you could do is return the favor.”

  “So that’s your game,” I said. The first time we spoke, I’d taken Eredani for a reasonable guy. Evidently I’d been too impressed by his agreement. Matty was right — Barliona had changed. If before people had played for the enjoyment, now it was for the money. Everyone wanted to make a profit, and preferably at the expense of others.

  “Sorry, Victor. I didn’t ask for your help. Plus you nearly ruined the entire negotiation. Newbie doesn’t mean idiot. If you think I owe you, there’s a Dispute Settlement button in Settings. The lawyers will sort it out. Good luck in the game!”

  “So you’re not going to give me my share and earn my goodwill?” Eredani had lost all sense of proportion. It wasn’t a nice feeling to be wrong about people.

  “What do I need with someone so generous?” I asked sarcastically.

  “I suppose you don’t,” he agreed and backed down. “Good luck in the game.”

  Dismissing the tiefling, I went to find the supervisor. Gurt was standing by some sparring dummies and looking impatiently in my direction. The instant I reached him, he boomed, “You took your time! Invoke the demon!”

  The Invoke Demon button began to flash, like a prompt for retards. One click and Aniram appeared. An animated buzz from the direction of the simulators indicated the archdemoness had been spotted, but she paid no attention to the folks around her. Her hate-filled gaze was fixed on me alone. Her hands and feet were manacled by a white cloud, so, unable to get her claws into me, she was trying to burn through me with her eyes. Poor NPC! If only she knew how often I had to put up with looks like that in the real world. Especially when I had to remove someone from a project because of their incompetence.

  “Traitor! You will be cursed and banished from the Abyss!” Getting no reaction to her stare, Aniram had to add some big words. The orc peevishly screwed up his face — the demoness’s voice enabled debuffs. They had no effect on tieflings, but everyone else in the vicinity got an unpleasant earful.

  “Tell her to shut up,” said Gurt, retreating from us and drinking a white liquid from a flask. I specifically observed the orc to see the result — the debuffs disappeared as if by magic. I assessed my abilities and pursed my lips, dissatisfied, as not one of them allowed me to control the conscious of the subjugated demon. I decided to follow the old-fashioned route, and said:

  “Don’t open your mouth unless ordered to do so!”

  “I’ll tear out your heart and ram it down your throat! And without any orders from you.” Aniram didn’t bat an eyelid. “You’ll be begging me for death. Mother will reward me.”

  No new debuffs appeared. So that was how Demon Retribution worked! Aniram hadn’t attacked me, but everyone else, to damage me in training. In confirmation of this, a countdown timer appeared in the upper part of my viewer: Minimum time to next diversion. I chuckled — it would seem my “pet” had a mind. What was the point of creating a diversion if I was ready for it? She would save up her strength for thirty minutes and strike when I was least expecting it. It didn’t exactly make for a comfortable game.

  “Select a dummy and perform a Demon Strike,” ordered Gurt, reeling from the debuff.

  The next button began to flash on the panel, and several of the dummies closest to me lit up in white. I knew the game was played by people with varying levels of education, but such detailed prompts were excessive. Highlighting the nearest target, I pressed the button. Aniram bent over backwards, and a dark cloud burst from her breast. It flew toward me and into my hands, arousing a feeling of oneness. Memories of the warm lava and Ireness’s soft voice zipped through my head. My body reacted, quaking in ecstasy, something it had sorely missed. My fingers te
nsed spasmodically, and a snow-white flourish struck the dummy. Task progress: one out of five. The buttons flashed again, making me go into Settings. Of course! The Newbie parameter was selected in Game Regime. By default, Barliona tried as much as possible to guard people against thinking, doing everything for them. I selected “lower than average”, and the flashing ceased. That was more like it! Completing the remaining strikes was no problem. Aniram put up no resistance, and didn’t try to stitch me up; she just bent over and gave me part of her demon essence.

  Demon Strike training task completed

  Reward:

  Experience: +6, until next level: 994

  Reputation with Light of Barliona faction: +3

  I was seriously distressed at the damage I’d caused. Demon Strike was a magic ability, and given that my Intellect was lower than low, and I had no magic weapons, twelve Damage points was not easy on the eye. Were I to lock horns with even a level-one player with a hundred HP, I would have to use the ability ten or so times. In that time any half savvy player would tear me to shreds and have time to spare. Conclusion — don’t engage in open PvP without being properly kitted out. The bonus from the basic commercial account increased Experience by one point and Reputation by two. I was itching to buy myself a Boosting Gem, but no sooner had I opened the in-game store and seen the prices, than the desire evaporated all by itself. Spending that sort of money just then was stupid.