The Way of the Clan 8

by Dem Mikhaylov

  Leaving the people on the bridge in a stupor, Orbit padded past me. I silently handed him a jar of lightly salted cucumbers. The elf accepted it with gratitude, pressed it to his chest, and whispered a thanks. I promised to get something else for him too. And then I asked:

  "Was it your father?"

  "Our father," he sighed.

  “All right... what was the reason?”

  “She w-was exhausted... d-dangerous. Forced her to the showered and to eat.”.

  "So ... then... the ninja sleeps ... and then why are you still here? If she was forcibly kicked out of the cocoon, why not you?”

  “I’m not s-s-so dirty,” he objected, and tenderly stroked his jar of cucumbers. “How ab-bout tomatoes?”

  “I will get you some tomatoes, too,“ I agreed to the bribe. The wailing elf explained:

  "Lost..."

  “Hm?”

  "Well ... my sister lost to him, and uh, and he told me ..."

  “Hm?”

  “Uh ... well ...”

  Soon I have been acquainted with the history of a somewhat strange family.

  For a long time the father had not used force against his adult children. But this was his house. And so they had to follow his rules there. Unless they could explain themselves. In which case they could do what they wanted.

  Thus, the Baroness was removed from her cocoon, and asked - “why are you risking your health? Justify it.” She began to mumble something about financial gain, about development of the clan and its territories, about grand design, the achievement of new horizons, and so on. Her papa snorted contemptuously and remarked wisely that if she bent over from fatigue or got carried to the hospital, as had already happened in their family, she would not achieve anything. And since she decided to resist him – let her do it in full force, not fainting from fatigue. There was nothing to object to — and the Baroness obediently trudged into the bathroom.

  Then Orbit was ordered to come, and so he left the game after his sister. By the way, she was also sent a warning, but she ignored it.

  Orbit was asked why he should go back to the game, too.

  And Orbit answered “only my thoughts are pure, because I set out on the journey to find something truly interesting and unusual. Only I, out of all three of us, do not seek financial benefits, and I do not burn with vengeance. And of them two – father and son – I alone do not dream of the ghost of a long-dead mother. Therefore, the son would return to the cocoon, and the daddy would stomp into the kitchen, eating rice and salad, and then to bed, where he would sleep for the next six hours and not bother the pure kind hermit Orbit…

  Dad listened to the speech of his dear son. He was silent. Then he turned and went to the kitchen, where the rumble of the dishes soon was heard. And Orbit returned to Valdira the winner. Such is life…

  “Huh-h-h ...” I said “And what kind of confrontation was he talking about?”

  “Well...”

  And then I heard another amazing story – how their father took the actions of his daughter to be a declaration of personal war. And he accepted the challenge! And even sketched a forty-page monumental document with rules of warfare, including knightly behavior in the real world, ruthlessness in the game world, and so on. Orbit refused to read it, which made the daddy angry and resentful.

  "Well, that sure is a family," I sighed.

  “Yes-s-s…”

  Favorably accepting my next gift, the bald elf slowly went away. I preferred to leave my own conclusions unsaid. Also I also thought about where I would get the next set of pickled fruits and vegetables.

  I looked again at the gray ocean, which looked much better now — the white frosty fog thinned out, the visibility sharply widening. Only dense shreds were crawling over the frothy sullen waves, recalling several memories. But I still held on. Continued to stand watch. And until the next person came, I would continue to stand watch. And I will not forget the fact that, on the flagship's nose, on the boarding bridge, my father stood. And I would not allow myself to show slack, I would hold on to the last...

  Approaching Malice, I waited until he looked away from the flickering magical screens in the air.

  "How are you, Ros?"

  “I stand by and would stay still,” I reassured him. “Malice — I understand you entrusted my father with combat maneuvers.”

  “Yeah. You will not believe how quickly he mastered it! Mastered the basics in a moment! He is a pro ... with such and such a father, why aren’t you serving the navy?”

  "Ugh..." I grimaced, and Malice nodded understandingly:

  “Sorry.”

  “Never mind. I came to ask about it anyway. Malice, understand the most important thing — if you do not want my father to send you all to hell, remember that he does not serve you.”

  “Yes. I respect your father.”

  “I mean it. And I did not even think that he was shown disrespect. This is different — he simply does not serve you. Why? Because he serves only one power – the native power. The real power of the real world. He is like this. Fanatic to the core. Therefore, do not try to be too grateful, do not hang any medals on his chest. He agreed to help for one reason only — driving boats on the water is his passion. And here there are hundreds of ships, hundreds of new possible operations with combat ships, threats from all sides, enemies everywhere, weather conditions no one can believe, basically the state of the third world war. Overall, he is in paradise, though he does not show it. And I am not talking about his incredible love of the seas and oceans. In a word — my dad loves to fight. Let it be so. And we are good, and he is excellent. Material goods and incentives do not need to spoil his fun.”

  "Right ... I understand you. There will be no any awards, the parade will be canceled, we will forget giving him the title of Admiral as if it were a bad dream. Thank you for explaining.”

  "How long will we wade through this mash of snow and stone?"

  "Very little left. In half an hour, we will break out into the open water. And then sharply change course — we will adjust to the amber guiding light. Then we will go at it at full speed until sunset.”

  “The Baron?”

  “He is still fighting ... he arranged a bloody farewell bachelor party. If he does not have time, then he will not get here. Oh well. We cannot give up the prison island. Ros, I do not have to tell you this, but ... you do not even want to know what types are enclosed there in the deepest and darkest chambers. And the Baroness personally promised the King of Algora that one of them would never again see the sunlight. If we do not keep the island, and the fucking prisoners run away ... it even hurts to think of it...”

  “Fun,” I concluded. “Okay, I will not interfere. If anything, I will be in that corner.”

  “Goldie will come to you. With another portion of invigorating coffee and some jokes. There was a theory that humor weakens the symptoms of fading.”

  “Let us hope.”

  "We pass through the Drenlar Gate! The scouts spotted a hundred ships three miles to the east!”

  “How fast do they come to us?”

  “Not to us — from us. Damn cowards! Increase the speed! To the north.”

  “Give the info to the front bridge,” ordered Malice, and grinned. “Cowards, indeed. They are afraid of losing ships. So they flee from us…”

  "Or from a nuclear explosion," I nodded, after which I shuffled into my corner.

  "What explosion?!"

  “I’m just thinking aloud,“ I shrugged my shoulders. Then I sat down on the bench and fell silent. But I did not stop listening.

  “We are already testing this option,“ said a woman’s businesslike voice. “No CLOUDS below us and above us. There was no magic background or induced illusions. So there is no threat. We must only be afraid of gods. Only divine essence can appear so suddenly that we will not have time to notice.”

  "As if we didn’t have enough problems!” Winced Malice. “Al Dra Das was already hit...”

  "The Drenlar Gate is b
ehind us. Look! A herd of walruses almost to the side! Oily and ripe!”

  “Fat and ripe walruses? We have to get them! How many?”

  "Not less than two hundred!"

  “Malice, sir, the flagship is not made for scouring for walruses.”

  “Send a dozen schooners. Only those who are not involved in the current construction! Tell our adm... uh ... I mean, third-party specialist ...”

  “Done.”

  “We prepare a full report on the archipelagos! Suspicious activity on the islands ahead. Direct fire. The question is ...”

  “We will not think about it – send a triple link of scouts. Keep four teams at your back. And be prepared to strike a warning blow. If someone smiles from the shore and whispers something, kill them!”

  "Is it not too much?" I was surprised.

  “Local people are stern, Ros,“ snorted Malice. “They do not smile.”

  “I see ...”

  "Ships in the southwest. Two clans with small fleets. They ask for permission to take a position within our structure – their own defense is rather weak.

  “No!” The mage cut off. “No way! We would not know who is for us, and who is against us. Let them go in the outer belt. We will look after them.”

  “Done.”

  And so on and so forth. Under the crash of frozen rigging and the roar of the flying dragons, the Sleepless Armada passed through six narrow straits between the islands. And from every island, someone shot at us! If not from the island itself – then they emerged from someone else's ships and dealt a fierce blow from all the weapons they had.

  The flagship was not bothered — and the enemies knew perfectly well that a simple sailboat, even if well-armed, could not overwhelm such a monster as a revived island with many decks and almost invincible armor. Therefore, the enemy was hitting smaller targets — and at our flanks. However, the maneuvers did not stop, and the damaged ships retreated deep into our structure. Shielded from fire, they allowed time to carry out emergency repairs. Then the ships returned to their places and waited for the next blow. A carousel, endless and exhausting. And I knew very well who exactly controlled the carousel – a new third-party expert in the Sleepless Clan. A severe looking half-orc with a mug of the strongest ship's tea in his green paw. What does he want, damn it? Why was he shuffling the unfortunate boats back and forth? But I did not intend to ask.

  Soon, the fleet had loaded the a few hundreds of tons of cargo aboard. Immediately it became clear that here, or somewhere nearby, was the main marine storehouse of the Sleepless. The flagship also sank one meter into the water, causing the lower surface deck to almost sink. And the holds continued to swallow more and more new boxes. The upper deck sheltered twenty dragons of all colors and species. Giant reptiles eagerly tore through meat and bread, as well as a strange golden liquid reminiscent of viscous honey, and then curled up and fell into a dream. Then in came the anxious caretakers, checking the animals’ scales, paws, and wings — of course, not forgetting about the most important details — the tails. They used files on the claws of sleeping dragons. Other flyers, which are smaller, had chosen to board other ships. Respite for the exhausted winged scouts.

  The scraps of conversation that I heard amazed me...

  “... and they say, he just managed to get out of the loop, and he was already blue and did not even jerk. Now he is in intensive care with a tube in the larynx. Well, the Clan mates caused it…”

  "Will he live?"

  “They are trying.”

  “It is just a game! It is a journey! From the very beginning, we knew this! And not only we – all the others also knew!”

  “Right! Moreover, he allowed himself to be used as a pawn! Was he a moron?...”

  They were talking about a player in one of the other, smaller clans. The ships, which had miraculously escaped, were killed by the fierce Sleepless. And the we let them go — This concludes our cooperation, swim the breaststroke back to the mainland, and do not worry us any more, losers. So ... off they swam, reassured everyone, tried to raise their spirits, and then went for it, went to the real world, and ... climbed into the noose. They could not stand the nervous overstrain and the burden of responsibility.

  Now, judging by the news from several sources, the gaming community was frantically discussing the future actions of those clans and their leaders that were most prone to suicides.

  Valdira was also overwhelmed by the dirty tsunami of angry public opinion that the inevitable happened – this cursed virtual world was killing people! The administration of Valdira hurriedly posted reminders such as: It is just a game and nothing more! Here, you can always start again! and Any failure is the beginning of a new adventure! And so on in the same vein. And this was only the second day of the Great Sea Trek— it had not yet even started properly! What awaited us in the future?

  Leaning against my elbows in polished stone, I waited...

  For what?

  Well, for something special, something which could lift the mood and slightly unclench the ghostly grip of Decay.

  And I waited.

  To the sounds of an unabated battle on the flanks, the flagship went ahead, breaking through the ice, cutting off the pliant white haze of the frosty fog. And then, suddenly, there was nothing...

  The brightest light struck me in my face, and a cloudy shroud was removed from my eyes. The flagship broke free with a single jerk from the misty captivity and found herself in the midst of a glacial, ice-covered field of many kilometers.

  We had passed the cold Archipelago. Following us, the rest of the ships emerged from the fog— and on all three sides were seen dozens of new sails of the most varied sizes and colors.

  "Let's begin to close our forces!” Malice swept over the bridge like a squirrel in a cage. “Now!”

  And the ice field surrounding us soared upwards. Tumbling in the air, the huge ice floes left an indelible impression. The armada the Sleepless prepared for maneuver.

  "Order to all! Raise all the flags! Klest, now!”

  “Howl!” Cried Klest hastily.

  The terrible roar of the flagship again spread dozens of miles around. Dragons, griffins, wolves, cougars, manticores, and mysterious symbols and runes seemed to dance on the flying flags. On the white snowy background of the gloomy terrain, everything looked like a real celebration. And this "explosion of flowers" sharply raised our motivation.

  “Send the last warning to all the stragglers – then they will not catch up! They have a few hours left The general course goes strictly according to the ray of the Navigator! Northeast! Prepare cruising speed for the entire fleet. Notify the bridge about changing the general pace!”

  "Ay-ay, captain!"

  “We have good luck! We have reached and passed the nodal point. We lay down on the course for the Trek. And ahead of us…”

  “And what lies ahead, Malice?” I chuckled, turning up my collar.

  "Who knows," he smiled broadly. “After all, there is no one there! Only the unknown...”

  Bulletin!

  We are the Bulletin of Valdira! The most complete and objective source of knowledge about all current events in the magical world of Valdira! We try to find out what cannot be learned, so that we can then tell our kind and devoted readers! One of the chroniclers of the "Bulletin" is in terrible danger. The life of the reporter is under threat! After all, our chronicler is not just somewhere! No! Our chronicler aboard the monstrous flagship "The Black Queen"— and after all, the Messenger of Valdira are smart enough to understand who this most formidable ship in the sea armada of the Sleepless Clan was named after!

  Yes, yes, good readers! She is standing on the deck of the flagship- the flagship of the Sleepless. On its spacious battle bridge, you can see the slender girl standing proudly, sending many ships to their goal.

  But enough lyric, good readers! We move on the main thing – the Sleepless! The Sleepless fly over the ocean waves and away from our continent! O those salted sea vagabonds! O pioneers with inqu
isitive minds and sharp eyes ... O fearless warriors, clenching their calloused fists…

  But enough lyric, good readers! Enough of this tenderness and pathos! Let us go straight to the point and plunge into the salty waters, generously sprinkled with blood, covered with soot and the charred remains of the lost ships...

  The first serious clashes in the sea! Clans clashing in earnest!

  And an additional article for fans of conspiracy theories:

  A new player on stage? Who is this puppeteer and manipulator? And does he really exist?

  And so, we present to your esteemed attention the main article of this issue!

  The Black Queen under attack!

  What is worse than typhoons and whirlpools?

  Betrayal – that is what!

  However, in our turbulent times, we call it differently – political and military games.

  Our big boys and girls played out in earnest! New alliances on the sea and on land are concluded and disbanded every hour, friends and enemies switch places with the speed of lightning…

  Soon we will describe in detail the moment of appearance of the Black Queen – literally on the pages of the next issue. And today, we will talk about the mad bravery and ingenuity of the Black Baroness who managed to bring the flagship of the Sleepless out from under the seemingly fatal impact of two enemy CLOUDs and certain death!

  Everything began peacefully ... and nothing foreshadowed trouble – except the black storm clouds creeping over the waves and the sparkling lightning bolts ahead of the course .... But who pays attention to such nonsense?...

  Chapter Thirteen.

  The unexplored, the ordinary, the horrifying … and vile.

  Malice was mistaken.

  A very boring few miles were ahead. It seemed that I was not standing on the bridge of a warship, but sitting in an office cubicle.