“Suit yourself. If you get bored, come and join us,” said the chief hireling before commanding, “Guys, the right-hand door. Move out.”
Before they were out of sight I made the first strike. It was sonorous and accompanied by a shower of sparks, and the pick flew off to the side. This was no demon ore — it needed striking accurately, but straight away I saw the results of my actions: a durability bar appeared by the stone.
Boulder. Durability: 948 out of 1,000
I waited until the hirelings had disappeared from view, before rounding on my partner. “Why the hell am I waving a pick around instead of fighting? You’re no warrior, but what does this have to do with me?”
“Brody, chill out. If you want to vent spleen, there’s your rock. It’ll even do us some good,” he replied. “Don’t be too hasty in your conclusions. We’ll gain experience anyway while the hirelings are keeping their side of the bargain. You’re not that much use to them, never mind me. They’re just like you and I, earning with their brains. Remember that. You’re a future clan chief, not a warrior.”
“Is that why I’m swinging my axe now and realizing my own uniqueness?” I nodded at the stone. “Where’s the logic in that, Victor?”
“The logic is that while the hirelings are boosting our experience, we’re also boosting Strength, Stamina, and Mining. And we’ll probably get an extra task too,” he said, taking the pick. “Out of the way, grunt! Let the old guard show you how it’s done!”
I accepted the partial truth of his order, laughed, and made way for the experienced showoff. We’d see how right he was. I already understood he wasn’t your average raider.
We swapped over every three rocks. Not so much because of fatigue, as the monotony. Information concerning acquired experience and the progress of the task continually flashed up before my eyes. The hirelings worked efficiently as a team, and in thirty minutes halved the demon personnel of Dorel’s Frontier, gifting myself and Eredani level twelve. I continued to hack away, while keeping yearningly abreast of their achievements.
Dorel’s Frontier task progress
You have destroyed 128 out of 222 demons.
“Here was a booby trap with arrows.” Another rock glimmered and evaporated, letting us down a step. Fragments of crossbow bolts protruded from the wall. Lots of stones were piled in the doorway, blocking up every hole and unable to fall away.
“Acid over there,” I said, pointing out a corroded step.
“And fire there. Look how cunningly the demons hid the flame thrower.” A thick layer of soot on the wall confirmed the observation, and a buckled muzzle in the ceiling was still emitting smoke. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
“Why demons? What if it was the former proprietors of the frontier?”
“Because the work is crude, as if it was built by migrant workers.”
Another rock faded away, and a pile of stones now robbed of support cascaded forward, accompanied by more clicks. A concern suddenly crossed my mind. “Don’t you think maybe not all the traps disappeared in the rockfall?”
“No,” Eredani barked, smiting the final stone. “No time to think. Only dig.”
“Then this is just the right time,” I muttered, trying to make out anything at all beyond the dark turn of the stairway. Pressing on without thoroughly checking would be extremely stupid.
We reached the second flight quicker by rolling the stones ahead of us instead of smashing them. The stairway turned again, revealing that our goal lay deeper than the underground passage. At the bottom of the last flight was a door. A perfectly normal door, wooden, with steel rivets and no frills, not even a visible lock. Just grip the round handle and open. Having first, of course, descended forty death-laden steps without a single stone — by this time they were all gone. I estimated we’d dug deep enough and the door should be on the same level as the prixis.
Diabettis: Kvalen, Eredani, what have you got?
Eredani: Nothing yet. Still digging. What about you?
I sniggered. Goddamn conspirator.
Diabettis: We’re past the first mini-boss. A rare ring. Roll the dice.
While we were digging, I was interested to observe the traffic lights of the hirelings’ frames. From green, denoting relative safety, they fell to yellow or even red, only to return immediately to green. They dropped to red only after the battle with the mini-boss, which spoke of its strength.
The ring went to Yasya, and I would have given my right arm to be next to her just then to see her reaction. I wondered if she accepted the loot with her inherent aloofness, or jumped for joy like a normal woman. Did she take joy in rings at all? Eredani was absolutely delighted with his.
Diabettis: A rare belt. Roll the dice.
This time Eredani got lucky, but as soon as he received his loot, he gave it to me. “Take it, it’s only fair.” I didn’t know if it was gratitude for my fireball, but it was silly to refuse. I activated the button, and the sun shone in my hands.
Maestro: Jeez! Have you dug up someone you can sell your souls to for a wad of cash?
The hireling’s stupefaction was understandable — an epic object was beginning to fade in my hands. Although what was the big deal? I’d seen such things before. Way more important were the properties.
Trainer’s belt
Description: An epic object. Material: thick leather
Protection from physical and magic attack: 40
+8 stamina
+8 intellect
Growth rate of all characteristics increased by 10%
Value of all characteristics scales decreased by 10%
Experience increased by 5%
Diabettis: We’ve got the second key. You can have it later.
Eredani: Okay.
“You know, I’m beginning to think game intellect somehow tells on a player after all. Only plus eight, but I’ve found an alternative to rocks,” I laughed, having thought of a way to deactivate all the booby traps. “The prixis.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Eredani sniggered. “You’re right. Let’s go hunting.”
He turned out to be a better hunter than me. After quickly catching eight creatures, he offloaded half on me, and we returned to the stairs. The prixis died like heroes, but moved toward the sacred door with the zeal of donkeys. The tree was more appetizing to them than a Big Mac and supersized Coke. The first eight went very quickly, and we had to go back for another eight. Four times. Somewhere in the middle of the process the system peeped that level thirty had been attained, but we weren’t to be distracted. The goal was in our sights.
“Ready?” Eredani lifted the handle with his trophy spear. No lightning, no fire, no rockfalls. I nodded. Aniram appeared alongside, and I was ready for the apocalypse.
“Open!” He stepped away from the door, letting me go ahead. Unhurriedly, I pulled the door open. A cold draft; the torches on the walls flickered. The darkness beyond was impenetrable; Eredani passed me one of the torches. The breeze settled, allowing me to squeeze into the doorway and have a nose around.
“Fuck!” I stepped back. It was a crypt. An abundance of decomposed corpses crudely piled into two eternally long mounds disappeared into the black.
Alive! Come quickly! The gruesome moan beckoned. Away in the distance it grew lighter, as an army of undead souls streamed toward us.
“Brody, let’s get out of here!” Eredani about-faced and darted back up the stairs without looking round. But I didn’t flinch, for I understood that ghosts moved quicker than tieflings. They’d catch us on the second flight. I needed to delay them somehow.
Is it DC day or something? Full-on heroism in underwear, I thought. The torch flame twitched again, and a tiny spark flew into the air and immediately died. With the thought that I had nothing to lose, I lobbed the torch into the middle of the left-hand mound. My chances of being right were one in a million, but today was a day for split-second decisions to produce the right results. The mound burst into flame, and the fire reached the ceiling with such
noise and thrust that I stepped back and covered my face from the searing heat.
The ghosts stopped and looked spellbound at the incarnate segment of hell. The fire spread quickly, taking a few seconds to reach the souls, pass them by, and surge on to the end of the crypt. The room was incredibly long, like an aircraft hangar. Surprisingly the second mound didn’t catch from the raging armageddon next to it. The aisle down the middle provided complete protection and did not allow the other bodies to ignite.
My hopes were not destined to be realized. The ghosts marched freely through the fire with no consequence whatsoever. It began to die down, and the incorporeal beings remembered their calling — to kill. I turned on my heel, reprimanding myself for not doing so directly I’d thrown the torch, and stopped rooted to the spot, as a transparent, though utterly palpable lance dug into my chest. While I’d been admiring the flames’ hypnotic gallopings, a squadron of otherworldly warriors had crept up behind me. The poke intensified, making me shuffle backward.
Alive, a rustling voice called right by my ear, and I span around to see a delegation of three souls standing in front of me. Time and altered state had not withered their charisma. The pellucid beings oozed strength and overwhelming might.
The middle one slowly unsheathed its sword and raised it. I held my breath. My first rebirth would be exotic. Not by the hands of the Vartalinsky thugs, nor by the paws of demons, which would be natural. No, I would have my first rebirth at the hands of those who should not even exist in the nursery. It was kind of absurd. I hadn’t crossed the frontier, or entered the cave. I awaited the strike with a deep sense of vexation.
It didn’t come. Instead, the ghost saluted me, raised his sword to the ceiling, and vaporized. A sigh of relief echoed around the hangar, and the light dimmed a fraction as half the ghosts vanished in their commander’s wake.
Alive! Release us! whispered the remaining beings. An image from a classic film seen long ago swam up in my head — a fighter gains an army of just such ghosts and in doing so decides the outcome of a global battle.
Since I’d been lucky so far that day, I had to try that possibility too. “Help me clear the frontier of demons, and I’ll free you. Have your revenge on those who brought this curse upon you.”
We can’t leave. Seal. Release us.
I could only sigh wailfully and think what else to ask.
Eredani: What’s taking so long?
Kvalen: Take a torch and come here. Preferably as quickly as you left.
“Have you decided to become Aragorn?” Eredani understood the situation instantly.
“My desire alone is not enough,” I said and explained how I’d established contact with the ghosts. “They can’t leave the dungeon. Display your mastery of negotiation with NPCs. Prove your kung fu is more hardboiled than mine.”
“Observe.” He took a swing and heaved the torch to the top of the right-hand mound. Flames once more licked high to the ceiling, calling forth a many-voiced gasp of relief, and another marshal of the spectral warrior host took his soldiers off to find their peace.
“I don’t get it. What about treasure, secrets, chests, knowledge?” I was dumbstruck.
“Some things, Kvalen, need doing immediately and permanently. I have bitter experience of dealings with ghosts. Two locations completely deserted for a month. My advice to you is, if you see a ghost, dispatch him to the Gray Lands at the first opportunity. No agreements.”
The hangar was in near total darkness, the dim light that there was provided by the dozen remaining immaterial beings. Release us too! They whispered. I looked around in puzzlement and kicked one of the mounds of ash. There was nothing left to burn. I ran to fetch another torch and walked around the crypt. No niches, no passages. Where were the last of the bodies?
“Do you think running around will make corpses stand up and move?” Eredani laughed.
“So we have to comb the frontier for them?”
He nodded and looked at the rest of the castaways. “We’ll help you. We’ll search for your bodies just as soon as we finish off the demons.”
Too long. Release us now!
“You’ve waited centuries. One more hour won’t hurt.”
We are drained. Help us!
“Demons first!”
No!!! You help us now, or you’ll never help anyone! The ghosts encircled us.
“That’s what I was talking about,” said Eredani. “Deals with ghosts always come back to haunt you. Okay, okay, we’re looking already.” This last phrase was meant for the ghosts, who ransacked the dungeon but found no way out. Fortunately the souls themselves wanted to join in the search.
Over here! the ringleader whispered and swam off to the far end of the crypt. Hovering by a wall, it pointed unequivocally to massive rock. With great effort Eredani and I shifted it aside to find another secret passageway or vault. It was dark, so I threw in the torch to give us something to see by, and it landed right in the centre of a “Leap of Faith” installation. Hundreds of tall spikes grew out of the floor and were hung with petrified skeletons. Fire erupted from the hole and scorched my face, making me stagger back and cover it with my hands. It was a good job we didn’t have to crawl anywhere. As long as all the corpses were there.
The ghost that led us there whispered, Tha-a-nk you! The alive helped us. The alive must know. Three-two-five-twenty. Search here! Then it saluted and vaporized, departing for its long-overdue rest. The Gray Lands accepted all the defenders, and our maps began to flash furiously, informing us of updates.
Dorel’s Frontier task progress
You have completed an additional task, allowing the souls of fallen warriors to find peace.
A hidden bonus for task completion has been activated:
+1 object to the Unending Happiness set
Maestro: That was just now?
“An object lesson in the advantage of ‘man the thinker’ over ‘man the raider’,” my partner muttered, though he wrote something else in the chat.
Eredani: Clearing the frontier. What’s happening with you?
Diabettis: The third boss fell. Arm shields and a belt. Cast the dice.
Both objects went to the hirelings, which grated somewhat.
The point which now appeared on the map was situated in the lair of the fourth rare demon, so we caught up to the hirelings. They were squatting down by the entrance to the next room and heatedly discussing tactics. Which was odd — level-fourteen players were deciding how to kill the remaining sixteen mobs at the frontier.
“Problems?” I asked, coming closer and peering into the room. Assessing the disposition, I was slightly stunned. The fourth rare mob was a demoness! Which wouldn’t have been a big deal, were it not for a number of peculiarities.
Groundskeeper’s elder wife. Level: 9. Class: rare. Health points: 9,000.
Abilities:
We gotta talk (recovery time 15 seconds).
Kiss of jealousy (recovery time 30 seconds, less than 70% of boss’s Health required).
I want one (recovery time 60 seconds, less than 50% of boss’s Health required)
Ballbuster (recovery time 60 seconds, less than 30% of boss’s Health required)
Summon mother-in-law (recovery time 90 seconds, less than 10% of boss’s Health required)
The demoness was standing in front of a mirror and trying to don armor that was obviously too small. Working herself into a frenzy, she pulled so hard the armor burst, enraging her still more. At this point the heinous woman gave the nearest R’Tan magus a weighty clip round the ear, slamming him into a wall, and demanded new apparel. If the magi were not sufficiently compliant, the swish and snap of her whip would be heard. The rare mob had a formidable weapon and used it with filigree precision. The demons did not die, but received lacerations which prompted them to start running quicker around the room.
“Why does she have so many abilities?” I was surprised. “Rare mobs only have two.”
“We were surprised as well at first. Presumably a spec
ific of the frontier. Each successive rare mob has one more ability than the previous one. She’s the last.”
“So what are you sitting here for?”
“The magi. We’ve got to get them out of the way before we deal with the boss. We’re deciding how to do that. It’s a small room. Touch one and the rest will get involved,” explained Diabettis patiently.
“Have you tried this?” Eredani pulled a prixi out of his inventory. The yellow ball was unconscious, a player’s inventory not being the healthiest of places for an NPC. When I looked at him in surprise, I was met with a provocative grin. Like hell there was only one prixi in there! What a diversionist. He’d collected a boatload of the yellow plague so that if necessary he could release them somewhere and initiate a series of elimination tasks.
A Second Chance Page 32
