“Then we need to get it to the camp somehow. Uldaron will know what to do with it.”
“Uldaron,” the dwarf piped up suddenly and was quiet again. Shit! Now we couldn’t toss the mental case until the head of the camp had seen it, even if we wanted to.
Notification for players at the Demon-Hunter Training Camp location
Call to arms! Demons have attacked Dorel’s Frontier! Say: “I want to defend Dorel’s Frontier,” and the power of Barliona will transport you to the wall.
A reward to everyone who answers the call: a rare object, consistent with your level and specialization, +10 to reputation with the Light of Barliona faction.
“It’s hotting up there,” I noted, before saying to my partner, “I’m going down, you follow with the dwarf.”
The target seemed to take forever to reach. I reckoned I should have been able to descend to the foot of the mountain in that time, if not burrow deep into the earth. Eredani and the dwarf were already several tiers behind. Occasionally I heard their squabbling, and the odd rock flew past me into the chasm. Rounding the last of many hairpin bends, I eventually saw it: the red eye looking up from the bottom of the shaft; the end point of our journey. The light down there did not flicker like a torch, but was still, white hot, and absolutely captivating. After scrambling down the last ten meters, I stood transfixed. In front of me opened an enormous lake of bubbling red-hot lava, in the middle of which was an island. Ironic though it was, there was a coffin. In the very centre of the rocky isle stood tall columns, suspended from which, by chains, was a swinging three-meter sarcophagus hewed from a single piece of rock. There was no evidence of demons or guardians in the vicinity.
Looking at the rock, I was seized by a feeling of unity with my birth element. This was it — my vine and fig tree. Here we were glad, here we were expected and loved. My knees buckled, and I was unwittingly plunged into a state close to meditation.
The approaching footsteps of Eredani and the dwarf jerked me from my reverie. The dwarf began to moo, and wrestled its way out of Eredani’s arms. Attempting to protect itself from the heat with its hands, it hastened to take refuge deep in the rocks, but not before its skin managed to redden and blister. My partner and I did not suffer from our proximity to the molten lava.
I approached the very edge of the lake, which grew more tantalizing with every second. It struck me as the only place where I could discover peace and contentment. Helpless to restrain myself, I hunkered down and scooped up a handful of lava. The guardian gauntlets dissolved momentarily, unable to withstand the high temperature, and my bare hand bathed in the comfortably warm, incredibly soft, and somewhat viscous liquid. The pleasant sensations enthralled me totally, and I continued to pass my hand aimlessly over the surface, playing with the lava as I had with water in childhood.
Race-specific chain of tasks received: Fireborn
Fireborn: Step 1. Merge with your birth element and undergo a test.
“What have you got there?” Eredani approached cautiously, ready to spring back to safety at any moment.
“I lost my gauntlets,” I sighed, and in a single stroke threw all the objects I was wearing into the inventory, keeping only the pristine white drawers. My partner giggled, but was in no hurry to join me in stripping. He preferred to wait and see what would happen.
I knew studying the guides was pointless — they had nothing to say about tieflings — and consulting with Eredani was just as pointless. He hadn’t been in this situation, even in his previous life. Added to which, I needed to sort myself out by myself. With these thoughts, I leaped up and tucked my legs in. My partner didn’t have time to react before I cannonballed into the lava, spraying him from head to toe.
I was a tiefling, born in half-blood lava, taking up arms against demons at the will of NPCs. My element was fire. My mother was the higher demoness Ireness, my father — an anonymous paladin. That’s why I could survive in Barliona and the Abyss. I was a child of both worlds, and only I was fated to decide who I would become in that game. Not Uldaron, not Abigail, not Ireness. Only I. For I was my own master!
Notification for player
You have begun the Fireborn: Step 1 task.
Kvalen! At last I can speak with you! Welcome home, Grandson! I am Baal.
My body shuddered in involuntary ecstasy. I had been honored by the attentions of a higher demon, one of three leaders meddling in Barliona. One who had power. And one I had to bow to, in obeyance of demon law.
I was betrayed by my body, but not my mind. As in previous times, it refused to follow primitive instincts. First and foremost I was Brody West; only then was I a tiefling, a player, and whatever else.
“Greetings, Grandfather.” I saluted the demon and said nothing more. Let him take the initiative, and I would see which way the wind blew. Baal was silent for a long time, apparently expecting more homage from me.
I have kept track of you. I watched you grow, take your first steps. And now I am sure you will achieve great things.
“I am flattered, overjoyed, and startled, Grandfather. Flattered by your attention, overjoyed at the potential prospects from our acquaintance, and startled that you kept tabs on me like a madman. What do you want from me?”
From you? Nothing. Quite the opposite. You get everything.
“Allow me to clarify. Everything means absolutely everything, or are there restrictions?”
You shall stand at the head of a new empire!
“What empire? Will I be absolute monarch, or will the system of government be close to parliamentary?”
We can discuss that later. I am presenting you with a mighty army for your future conquests.
“One more question: will the army answer exclusively to me, or to anyone else also?”
You disappoint me, Grandson. I am offering you my support and might.
“Listen, I’ll stop interrupting you, and you tell me everything you want to offer me, only without the dramatic pauses. I ask just one thing: I need details, not ardent battle cries. Tell me exactly what you are proposing. Objectively.”
You are insolent!
“I’m pragmatic! If I am being offered something, I want to know exactly what. Let’s agree that all offers must be numerated and with absolute ownership rights. Deal?”
Do you doubt my word?!
“Who would I be if I did not doubt the word of a higher demon?”
You will receive gold; hundreds of millions in gold pieces.
“Will I be able to transfer it to my game account?”
This gold is needed for the fulfilment of a great purpose! The conquest of pathetic creatures!
“I’ll take that as a no. What else?”
I will give you an army of hundreds of thousands of warriors. You will vanquish all of Barliona!
“Will I be able to manage them at my own discretion?”
They will serve only the great purpose!
“Another no then.”
The best demons will work for you and create inconceivable objects!
“Will I be able to trade these objects with other empires? If not, I’m not interested. What’s the point if I can’t increase my own prosperity? Grandfather, are you listening to what you’re saying? You promise me mountains of gold, but as such you’re not offering me anything personally. How were you thinking of buying me?”
What do you want? There was a note of displeasure in a Baal’s voice.
“Now that’s a different matter altogether. I want twenty percent of all the loot I receive as head of the empire. I want to transfer that loot to my game account and do with it as I please. I need open trade with those we are planning to invade. They can spend their money on us, rather than on war with us. I need the coordinates of twenty as-yet-unpassed dungeons and, please, a full set of celestial-level attire for the new class. Do you see how I’m listing things that can be counted and evaluated no matter whether the result is achieved or not. No attractive pledges or taglines. Distinct and concise.
&n
bsp; Your demands are unfeasible!
“I’m open to conversation!” I snapped. “If twenty percent is too much, I can come down to fifteen. But no lower than thirteen, even out of respect for our kinship.”
Silence.
Congratulations! You were able to resist the temptation of a higher demon.
Fireborn: Step 1 task update. Task completed.
Player race update: tiefling updated to fire tiefling — you have opened all your race abilities.
Player class update: demon hunter updated to demon destroyer.
Fireborn: Step 2 task will be accessible to you at level 100 or during particular class-specific scenes.
I emerged from the lava with a deep sense of frustration. Was that it? Would I have to go through fire and water too? Empty conversations like that always maddened me. Baal was no salesperson.
Eredani was nowhere to be seen. Figuring he would appear on the surface any minute, I swam to the island. But I didn’t hurry to climb out — approaching the sarcophagus without cover would be the height of stupidity.
Victor surfaced right by me and, paying me no attention whatever, climbed quietly from the lake and began rushing around the island like a recently caged animal. I took a peek at his properties, and saw no obvious reason for such behaviour: he had also become a destroyer and a fire tiefling. Evidently he hadn’t been able to parley with Baal either. His condition concerned me. He kept smoothing his hair down and lashing his legs with his tail. His movements were fidgety, his whole being seemed disturbed, if not angry, and he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t interested in the sarcophagus, next to which he was describing his manic circles.
“How did you find the test?” I asked, but he either didn’t hear or was ignoring me. He was away with the fairies. “I didn’t think much of it personally. Offering world domination and piles of gold, but actually selling air? What a crock of shit.” He continued to hold his tongue, so I tried a different tack. “Victor! Stop crying! Pull yourself together!” He twitched. “Go on, you have a good cry. Everything’s shit, nobody loves you, you had to choose between your family and your personal safety.”
“What would you know, milksop?” he said, trotting down to the edge of the lake and standing before me in a threatening pose. I swam a couple of meters out; after all, I didn’t know what he was in prison for. If he went nuts, he’d run out of steam chasing me and come to his senses.
“Spare me the scenes of self-castigation. Positive emotions are for chicklit. I need a level-headed adviser for the clan. Get your act together!” The look he gave me was full of meaning. Even Aniram couldn’t do that. “Excellent. Now sit down and pull yourself together. We need to figure out who’s hiding beneath the paladin’s mask.” With apparent calm he folded his arms across his chest and nodded. He wasn’t remotely interested in the sarcophagus; indeed he seemed not to give a damn about anything. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the lava, but I had to risk it and join him.
“What was that all about?” he asked in an entirely normal voice.
“I thought you needed some support.” I shrugged.
“You call that support?” he said, surprise in his eyes.
“I helped the way I knew how.” I frowned. “You clammed up and turned nasty. You needed pulling out of your state. Which I did. How is my method worse than a dumb pat on the shoulder and a no less dumb ‘What happened? Wanna talk about it?’ ?”
Eredani chortled. And again. He began guffawing loudly, which echoed like thunder around the cave. Problem solved. The stress he experienced from the lava was gone.
“Yes, empathy’s not going to be easy for you if that’s what you call support,” he chuckled. “Let’s go, supporter, it’s high time we found our paladin.”
“That’s gratitude for you.” I knitted my brow at the mention of that mysterious ability. I was more and more convinced that empathy was a genetics thing.
The stone sarcophagus, wrapped in black chains, hung at the level of our heads. Demonic writings covered the sides and told of the deeds of the higher demon that lay at rest within. Only victories and accomplishments, only feats and glorification. All in the best traditions of any “never speak ill of the dead” burial: imbibed the souls of hundreds of thousands, enslaved and raped many more…
“And where’s the clue in all this demonic eulogy?” I said, after reading the glowing heresy carefully to the end. In all that was written, there was nothing that could be perceived as a reference to a specific figure or occurrence.
“We’re missing something.” Eredani didn’t get it either. “We can’t shift the lid, it’s too big.” It occurred to me we ought not to move anything anyway, so as to avoid unpleasantness at the hands of the higher demon.
Notification for players at the Demon-Hunter Training Camp
Dorel’s Frontier has fallen! Supervisor Tarlin has taken the defenders back to the training camp. All participants in the event are awarded an unusual object consistent with their level and specialization. All tasks connected with the Frontier are canceled.
Eredani and I looked at each other. If the demons continued to move with such determination, they would be at the summit in half an hour. We physically wouldn’t be able to escape.
“We need help.” I summoned Aniram and immediately forbade her to consume anyone. She ignored me, dropping her jaw and staring exuberantly at the coffin. Her lips stirred in a rambling whisper:
“O, Abyss! It is he… His spirit is here… I want… Oh how I want…”
“We’re looking for a reference to a paladin.” I interrupted her panegyric, but she had already regained control of herself. She fell to her knees before me and clasped her hands in prayer.
“Allow me to consume him, master! I beseech you! Then I shall become mighty! The strength you gain through me will increase from three to five. You will become an invincible destroyer! Do not refuse me this time!”
She was evidently talking about the coefficient in the formula of magic damage.
“Let’s do this in the right order. First me, then you. First we look for the paladin.” I spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
“There was never a paladin here,” said Aniram, shaking her head. “There was an object belonging to a light warrior. But it is not here now. Permit me to consume the demon, and I will tell you where to find the object. It is here, on the island. Ma-a-ster!”
“First tell me where,” I persisted. My intuition screamed there was a hitch somewhere.
“I swear with all my soul,” Aniram snarled hotly, bowing her head low and scorching me with her look. “If you do not let me consume the higher, I shall tell you nothing. Ever. I swear I will do everything to escape, and annihilate you. I’m going to smash the lid, and you will know the might of his wrath!”
How quickly she changed her tune when she didn’t get her way. She’d even started threatening.
“It’s a set-up,” Eredani concluded. “I don’t like her ultimatum. Don’t accept.”
“Do I have a choice? The clock is ticking. Now she’s going to set the hellish chimera free, and in half an hour the entire jet set of relatives will be here with four archdemons at their head. Then we definitely won’t learn anything. We’ll be reborn and have to leave the nursery.”
My partner thought. “Well… yes, you’re right. You decide. The responsibilty’s all yours.”
The demoness understood I was wavering, and once more began with her whiny supplications.
“Aniram, I want to be sure you aren’t bluffing, and that we’ll definitely find out the new location of the object.”
“I swear on the Abyss, I know where it is.” The Demoness was covered by a dark cloud. The drawling call of a horn sounded from somewhere far away: the demons’ advance guard had reached the mountain.
“Consume!” I said, and two black lightning bolts struck Aniram. She bent over, eyes rolled back in ecstasy, raised her head, and cried. But instead of a shriek, dark light burst from her mouth. I had always c
onsidered darkness to be the absence of light, but Barliona convinced me otherwise when I saw dark energy with my own eyes.
The sarcophagus shattered and disintegrated into sand. The loosened chains clanked loudly against the columns before crashing to the ground. Aniram collapsed too. I ran to my pet, and her hands clutched me. “Ma-a-ster!” she said listlessly. Her eyes were red, and a smile meandered over her face, portending nothing good for me. It wasn’t the rapacious scowl I was so used to, but the giddy amusement of a woman so drunk she’s convinced the sea is knee-deep.
“Master, you are so handsome! Come to me! Have a kiss from a real archdemoness. I’ve never had a tiefling.” Her hands reached for my tail and pulled it down toward her.
A Second Chance Page 36
