A Second Chance

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “The saddle!” Eredani pointed ahead and threw me back the dwarf. The mire came to an end, taking the most important thing from me — the will to win. Right then I wanted to press the Exit button, collapse onto the sofa, and stare at the ceiling for a few hours. However, I had yet to work myself literally to death. Even in reality I could feel a real body resisting that particular excess. That night I would again leak out of the pod like a puddle.

  “Come on. Let’s go!” Eredani shouted. “The Vartalinskys’ll be here in half an hour!” The determined players had already covered the greater part of their journey. The array of dark spots was gaining on us, threatening to bury us in an avalanche. Exhaling heavily, I slung the dwarf onto my shoulders and shuffled off after my partner. The saddle was within spitting distance, along with the dungeon. But we were catastrophically short of time. Realizing we wouldn’t make our goal on time, we left the road and hid behind some rocks. Up ahead bristled a cactus patch, but we couldn’t poke our noses in there — it was the first place they would look.

  “Quiet!” whispered Eredani. The dwarf placed his hands on our chests, activating some magic known only to him, and we blended into the rocks. A couple of adroit demons flew low over our heads without noticing us. There were no more dogs — they had petered out back at the mire — so the beasties couldn’t follow our scent. The Vartalinskys positioned themselves in the center of the army, ceaselessly throwing out commands left and right with wild gesticulations. All the players’ attention was focused on the forest. They knew full well we wouldn’t get far, because we had to hide somewhere. However, it didn’t even enter the whippersnappers’ heads that our strength would run low much sooner, and they’d begun their search too late. Never mind, experience comes with time. The main thing was to learn by your mistakes and, as far as we were concerned, allow those mistakes to repeat themselves.

  “The dungeon’s here. A kilometer and a half.” Eredani unrolled the map. The dwarf whistled as he appraised the scale of our preparations. The entrance to G’Rot’s lair was situated to the side of a large track, and it was logical to suppose that initially the Vartalinskys would charge straight on, and only later begin to spread out their forces.

  Hopes and dreams… No sooner had we crept out from behind the rocks to follow the army, than demons appeared in front. We just managed to dive back in, trying to merge with the wall, but the beasts of the Abyss paid us no attention. They were bolting from the valley, driven by fright, eyes bulging, and trampling one another underfoot in their haste to get to the saddle quicker. Several octopuses ran right over us, taking a shortcut through the boulders. A stroke of the glaive put one of them out of its misery, but its mates paid no heed to our aggression. Far from it, they were well pleased with the freed-up space.

  “Kvalen, let’s get out of here!” Eredani succumbed to the general panic, hauntedly surveying the forest. The far trees began swaying and cracking, as if a gigantic creature was marching through them. The kind that frightened even demons. The archdemons appeared from around the bend and, flapping their wings heavily, the lumbering fat-asses flew away, ignoring us again. It was more than their hides were worth. The next giant trunk crashed to the ground, and before us stood the initiator of the army’s stampede. A colossal demon, five or six meters tall, very similar to the groundskeeper of Dorel’s Frontier. The heavy swished its fiery sword from side to side, mowing down those beasties that didn’t duck in time. The trees were no hindrance to that fearful weapon, snapping like reeds and bursting into flame at the very touch of it.

  “This is my domain!” the monster bellowed in the wake of the fleeing archdemons. “Out!” Its next strike took down another dozen less vigilant runts, after which the satisfied giant heaved its flaming weapon onto its shoulder and trudged off on its way.

  “For some reason I’m having doubts about the success of this venture.” I watched the fifth archdemon of the island go, and didn’t understand which side to approach it from in order to beat it. G’Rot was terrible, strong, and mighty. Level fifteen, a raider. Its HP was through the roof, but largely because it had just slain swarms of demons. In passing, the monster stuck out a hand to grab a fat magus from the crowd and bite its body in half. It was hungry, and its food was running around beneath its feet.

  “That’s not the boss itself. It’s an avatar,” said Eredani comfortingly. “The real thing is more terrifying. Let’s go, we mustn’t waste time. I can’t see the Vartalinskys anywhere.”

  “Maybe they’re resting?”

  “It’s not worth underestimating an enemy. Especially a well equipped one.”

  Exercising extreme caution, we followed the monster. It didn’t turn around, but every so often it would select one of the fatter demons scurrying around and devour it, replenishing its spent energy. In sending the archdemons packing, G’Rot had confirmed his right to the valley. None of the smaller demons dared contest it, so nobody paid us any attention. All the beasties’ desires boiled down to one thing — avoid the boss and scuttle off home, where it was warm and there was a constant supply of prixis.

  The dungeon was exactly where we expected to see it. G’Rot’s avatar walked up to a glimmering shroud and disintegrated into miniscule stars. The archdemon had dismissed its embodiment. We had one final sprint to go before the entrance, but Eredani laid a hand on my shoulder and said, “The Vartalinskys.”

  Braksed and Kurtune had survived the encounter with the monster and, having forfeited their guard, were now standing in front of the entrance to the dungeon and making a call using the amulet. We couldn’t hear whoever they were talking to, because they were too far away, but Braksed’s visible outrage was telling.

  “Yes, a glimmering shroud. Shit, I’m not stupid, I can read! That’s what’s written here: ‘Path to Enlightenment Dungeon’! No, I don’t have the ring yet. Yes, I know. No, you don’t need to do anything, I can manage by myself. I said, I’ll manage! Yes, I’m with Kurtune. Send the scrolls. No, the sphere has no effect on him. Shit, brother, this is the final boss! I’m waiting!”

  Braksed rang off and kicked a stone, which flew off to the side. Kurtune came closer, and they sat down together right by the entrance.

  “Can we follow them?” I asked my walking encyclopedia. “I mean enter the same copy of the dungeon with them?”

  “Why?”

  “Now they’re going to collect ridiculous amounts of various things, and clear the path to G’Rot for us. We can’t beat these goons directly. I’m not willing to pour so much money into a local conflict. But… what if we wait until the boss starts fighting them, wait for just the right moment, and… Get the idea?”

  “And he looks such a decent human being.” Eredani was ostentatiously surprised, smiled and said, “Yes, we can get into their copy of the dungeon. Because the leading clans always put a guard at the entrance, so nobody can frustrate their plans. There is a minus — the Vartalinskys will know we’ve entered. We can’t hide that.”

  “Let them know.” I shrugged. “It’s their problem. The main thing is to give them time to get tangled up in a fight with the boss. Then knowledge of our presence won’t help them.”

  “Yes, that might work.” Eredani perked up. He was also looking for a way to wangle a First Kill, and my idea fell on fertile ground. “Only we shall do things a wee bit differently. Look…”

  The letter to Braksed arrived half an hour later, which allowed me to relax properly at last. The Vartalinskys exchanged scrolls, elixirs, and objects, then dove into the shimmering veil. The clock counted down ten minutes, and Eredani galloped off after the youths like a high-spirited goat. The dwarf did not lag behind. It had decided that things would be easier hanging around us. We didn’t complain — we had no plans for the anonymous thing, so it was free to choose its own place of death.

  Notification for player

  A new territory is open: the Path to Enlightenment dungeon. The probability of finding valuable objects is increased by 49.999%; experience gained is increased by
20%. You have joined a group to pass the dungeon under the leadership of Braksed Vartalinsky. Number of bosses killed: 0 out of 1.

  The Path to Enlightenment was indeed a path. Hundreds of walkways twinkled above a green lake which effused unpleasant vapors. They interconnected with each other on columns or massive rocks, then scattered in all directions. I counted four levels, forming a humongous 3D network. You could move between them via the columns, which is what the Vartalinskys were doing — shinnying up to the very top level.

  “We go that way.” The experienced Eredani motioned toward the far wall, where, adjoining the third level, yawned a dark cave. I glanced down — a long way. My chest itched, and the unpleasant sensation was gradually making its way lower. I hated fairground rides.

  “I’ll wait for you here!” The dwarf appreciated the epochal nature of the structure before stepping toward the entrance, where he found a boulder to hide behind, away from prying eyes.

  We were spotted immediately. Kurtune drew his thumb across his throat in demonstration of his plans for our afterlife. The Vartalinskys clambered up, ran between the columns and began to look over their shoulders distractedly. Not all the columns had a way down, and not all the stairways led in the right direction. There came a soft whispering, and to the clarion cussing of the Vartalinskys, the stairways began to rotate, changing their points of contact with the columns. The stones anchored themselves in their new places with a dull thud. The structure of the connecting stairways was fixed for the next five minutes. We stepped up to the start of the stone labyrinth.

  “Now, Kvalen my friend, a small lesson,” snickered Eredani. “There are two ways to pass through labyrinths like this. One — act like our young foe, leaping hither and thither in the hope of getting lucky. Two — wait for your moment.”

  “What’s with the edifying tone all of a sudden?”

  “You have to pass your knowledge on some time. Surely that’s precisely why you took me on?”

  “What chance are you talking about?” I decided to put aside Eredani’s true desire to turn on Teacher. Let him do what it wanted. The main thing was that it was of some benefit.

  “We have to get in there, right?” Eredani indicated toward the dark passage and waited patiently for me to confirm. I was forced to nod, and only after that did my partner continue, “The stairways reconfigure themselves every five minutes. All we have to do is wait for a direct route to form.”

  “What, for two weeks?” I was pretty good with graphs, and estimated when the system would align itself in the right order.

  “Half an hour, maximum fifty minutes.” Eredani threw me a curveball. “The standard cycle of rotation is one hour. We’ve already seen two variations of the path, and there are ten left. So I’ll repeat the question, what are we going to do? Gambol about or wait patiently?”

  “You’ve already made your choice, yeah?”

  “I’m too old for all this.” He stretched his back theatrically. “Agility’s not what it was.”

  “Well, let’s enjoy the Vartalinskys’ acrobatic études. By the way, what’s that green gunk?”

  “It smells like acid. I wouldn’t want to fall in there. At all.”

  We had to wait seven reconfigurations before Eredani ordered, “Let’s go!” and shot off. His decision was counterintuitive to me, but I didn’t bother contesting it. If an expert says it’s time, you either have to trust him, or come up with arguments of your own. I didn’t have any.

  “Up!” Eredani quickly climbed up to level four, where he saluted the Vartalinskys, who fired a Weakening at us. Then he about-turned and sprang chicly back, after activating Retreat. He performed a graceful airborne U-turn, before landing on a level-three stairway about twenty yards from me. He was one flight away from the entrance.

  “Don’t just stand there! Jump!” he commanded.

  The tightening and coldness were there in my chest again. Jumping over an abyss… That was… pretty shitty. And terrifying. There must be a direct route. I looked at the Vartalinskys. Those two were definitely not going to jump. They would jump between the levels and search for the correct route. Damn it! How long was I going to hide my cowardice behind attempts at logical explanation? Hang it all! “Retreat!”

  “And who’s going to turn in the air?” My partner caught me by the tail and tugged me sharply to my feet. Stars danced before my eyes, and I collapsed, clinging to him like a lover. That I should ever again jump like that of my own volition! Never!

  “Had a little lie down? Now onward and upward! Realignment minus one minute!”

  Eredani was unpitying. Without releasing my tail, he hauled me toward the passageway. The noise of the shifting rocks was drowned out by the Vartalinskys’ swearing. The boys had found a way to get to the entrance, but the scheming labyrinth scuppered all their plans. The area we were standing on broke out in hoarfrost — one of them had lost control and flashed a frost strike at the rocks.

  The long journey down led us to a wide platform, the central part of which was approximately twenty metres, smooth, and even. Further on was a forest of fat cone-shaped stalagmites, deformed by time and the owner of the cave. A green fluorescence to the side of the platform suggested we were floating on a lake of acid. G’Rot was not as enormous as its avatar. It was a typical two-meter-tall demon, and it sat in state upon its throne, snoozing, eyes closed, flaming sword across its knees.

  “That is the groundskeeper’s elder brother?!” I was surprised. The throne, the blazing sword, the external appearance — all signs indicated that the boss was a more progressive copy of the demon we had killed.

  “I don’t think so.” Somebody’s been cutting corners and used two identical models in the nursery.

  Archdemon G’Rot. Level: 15. Class: raider. Health points: 28,500.

  Abilities:

  Acid spit (recovery time 10 seconds).

  Target selection (recovery time 30 seconds, less than 70% of boss’s health required).

  Death dance (recovery time 30 seconds, less than 40% of boss’s health required).

  Armageddon (recovery time 20 seconds, less than 10% of boss’s health required)

  Quick steps behind us — the Vartalinskys were able to bust through the labyrinth after all. “Hide.” Eredani pointed at the stalagmites. We’d scarcely taken cover, when the hoodlums appeared.

  “Where are they?” Kurtune held a scroll. He clearly wanted us out of the way there and then.

  “Fuck ‘em! Brother said fuck everything and just take down the boss. Woah! Why’s it so fat?”

  “So we let the tieflings go just like that?” Kurtune wasn’t going to be pacified.

  “Shut up and do what’s required of you!” Braksed reacted harshly.

  Even in my amateurishness I was able to appreciate the Vartalinskys’ know-how. They were surprisingly savvy and worked well together. They separated and got out their scrolls, before Kurtune slowly approached the boss to measure its agro-radius. Ten meters. The monster opened its eyes and looked in bafflement at the player creeping toward it. When the latter was within arm’s reach of the throne, the sword came into play — the boss slashed it snappily at his head. But he was already gone — the Vartalinskys’ Retreat worked just the same as that of any other demon hunter, common or dark. The blade plunged deep into the rock, but G’Rot drew it out with ease and strode to the centre of the platform.

  The first battle phase had begun.

  “That’s exactly why I’m going to stay out of the way,” Eredani said quietly, before swearing floridly. The boss was unpredictably swift for its size. An instant, and it stood with Kurtune. The Retreat was for recovery, so the player could not avoid the first acid spit and the monster spewed green goo on him. Kurtune was enveloped in a cloud of fumes and began to scream atrociously — his face was being eaten away by the acid. A brisk roll to the side and some recovery potion spared him dreadful wounds, but they couldn’t do the same for his equipage. His chest was decorated with a huge bald patch, after the acid ha
d dissolved the armor. It wasn’t utterly destroyed, but doubtless all its characteristics were tellingly dented. Braksed kept his eyes peeled. While the boss was busy with his partner, he flashed it scroll after scroll. Frost strike, electric strike, block of ice, rock fall — the thoroughness of his preparation for battle commanded respect. The boss skipped over to Braksed to repeat his acid spit, but he was no longer there. He’d activated Retreat — and the boss’s ability went way wide of the mark.

  Whirling its sword, G’Rot rushed to finish off the speedy player, which was precisely what the Vartalinskys were expecting. Braksed hared around the platform, not even attempting to attack, while Kurtune got busy with the scrolls. Then a switch, and now Kurtune ran and Braksed attacked. A well worked tactic against an NPC. It wouldn’t work with players.