If we estimated the volume of our common fantasy, the whole burden of the delirious frightened imagination stacked in one big tub and mixed, then we could safely say – we have surpassed the real danger. We did not happen to meet the patron of Wall. For now…
Seven hours. That is how long it took the armada to pass one of the sections of the Wall. If you drew a ship route on a large-scale location map, you would get a cardiogram of a terribly agitated person – such outlandish zigzags would have been written out on paper.
We dove into one narrow passage, waded through, and found ourselves in a tiny lagoon where we could barely turn around in place. Clouds of acid vapor corroded the wings of dragons and birds, and the scouts cried out, trying to fulfill their duty. The players landed on the decks, where they were splashed with clean water to clean out the acid, which was really the innards of giant caterpillars.
In the water, the matter was even worse — the achilots and their living ships were floating right in the acid! Weak, perhaps, but still acid! Can you swim in a vat of acid and not die? The Immortals decided to test this theory, having placed a bet on a box of chocolates, no less. The achilots, they would say, dissolved alive! Right in their native element!
The acid from the centipedes diluted and spread – the piranhas, understanding the situation perfectly, tried to add as much caustic seasoning to the screaming and gurgling sea broth. The battering players waded through the muddy slime, dragging giant dinosaurs behind them, nudging away the twitching giant turtles, kicking away the whales shaking in agony, begging for the smoking sharks to continue their movement … a big caustic soup. And we all waited with fear for the appearance of the Protector, who would arm himself with a big spoon and have his meal. Achilot soup — "sandwiches" with different fillings, quite tasty and healthy food…
We were lucky. We did not encounter this tiny, concentrated nightmare – the Lord of the Wall.
But it was just a matter of time…
By the end of the fourth hour of our hellish swim in the jumble of rocks and water, the first foreign clans came to the Wall. We slowed down sharply, and began to maneuver in the labyrinth. Someone else's intelligence crew reported about the obstacle that the Sleepless encountered, and the enemies immediately accelerated, joyfully quickening the pace to reduce the backlog. It would be better if they delayed! Their blissful ignorance ended very quickly, replaced by shock. It was our time to smile.
At the same time, the two hundred "abandoned" fighters abandoned by the Baroness joined the cause. The beginning of their battle was marked by the brightest glow behind the stern of the flagship, and then a long thunderous roll came — which got to us with a great delay. We were quite far by then.
Judging by the reports, it started to get hot. Something like half an hour after the first signal, the partisan leader "opened" the spatial pocket. And a lot of flying piranhas and millipedes fell on the heads of the enemies, happily adding to those already available. If you fought against tens of thousands of small, powerful enemies, your position would be called critical. We thought it would have sufficed.
If you were fighting at once against twenty thousand, your position ... there was no longer any position. You were finished, there was no salvation, except a miracle. So the unfortunate clan lost half their ships, thus losing the leading position at once.
Soon, the others came to the Wall from the nucleus of strangers following us. And they were so prudent as to turn away from that fateful part of the gorges. The fighters of the Sleepless again took up the fight, crushing the ships and monsters with the fearlessness of the doomed— after all, their campaign was over. They had nowhere to hurry!
By the beginning of the seventh hour of the passage, the number of clan fleets that entered the labyrinth of death reached a dozen. And there were enough monsters for everyone. No one was deprived. Some people were especially lucky. Because they came upon the Patron of the Wall …
The main monster was small. Very small. I would even say – a tiny worm! After all, I saw a color photograph of the local leader. The two clans that went together - the Rogue Bards and the Fins of Fortune, and the allied wing of the Architects, who went to the passage of the Wall by another way, were almost completely exterminated by the joint blow of the creatures and the Protector. Then they started ringing wherever possible, asking for advice. They generously shared the collected information. And photos of the wicked beast.
The color — purple, very bright, shining a little.
Size – four meters, with the tail, in length. And a little less than a meter in width.
A kind of centipede. A violet centipede with bright yellow eyes stuck all over the body in chaotic order. Muzzle – a harpoon tip with rhombic section. An assault ram, not a muzzle. Paws were similar to curved spiked harpoons with crystal-shaped feet — tips punching anything with enviable ease. And these paws were awful! The creature could throw them, immediately growing new limbs. What was even more offensive – the millipede was capable of throwing its paws military style. Up to twenty piercing harpoons. The total strength was enormous!
Strength – so-so. It runs fast. Cannot swim, drowns like an iron.
Special skills – strengthening allies and weakening enemies! And that power of amplification can be called divine. As soon as the centipede begins to glow, the water or air around it turns into a healing heady balm for many meters. The allies get strength and speed and health, but the enemies, on the contrary, sharply weaken as from a curse.
The name of this caterpillar — “Contemplator of the Autumn Sunset.” What a name… However, if you believed someone else's report, when they first saw the enemy, he was actually quietly laying down and looked at the sky. Expecting to see the autumn sunset ... he was interrupted, and he became angry...
The level was the 700th.
And he was nearly immortal! None of the attacks on him did harm. The creature was able to transfer its own damage to the "servants" around him — the piranhas, and other centipedes. A joint blow from all the sides managed to clear the space around him and cut it down, and bingo! The boss's life crawled down. But there were thousands of monsters! They immediately flew to the parent and he immediately recovered his body and spirit! It was impossible to clear the sky and water from the host of creatures. Simply unreal. Hence, if the mountain does not depart from Mohammed – Mohammed hides from the mountain. They would pick up the reptile, drag it away, isolate it in some cave and go at it. The perfect plan! They picked up the Spectator with a pair of strong chains…
The weight.
That thing was very heavy ... so heavy that a dozen powerful tugs could not lift the mockingly motionless small centipede from the rock. He did not even cling with his paws – he shot them in all directions, while ten dragons were pushing, roaring, and spoiling the air from the strain, unable to move the Contemplator. The weight ... someone, probably the editor of monster design, had mistaken their zeros. It was necessary to write seventy kilograms or seven hundred at the worst. Maybe, a ton! Well – maybe two tons! But the hastily involved specialist managed to see the number of over 700 tons!
Seven hundred tons of live weight!
That is why the Contemplator could not swim ... he sank like a rock into the water, with the speed of a dive fighter, with a rumble crashing into the bottom, sometimes knocking a funnel in it. Then the purple idiot quickly found the nearest rock and rushed up briskly – if he wanted. If not, he stayed below and gave hell to the achilots.
The Assassin was killing everything — what was worth a short video, was when the centipede jumped with joy into the helpfully open mouth of a prehistoric shark. I involuntarily remembered my jump into the jaws of the pike. But I did not kill the pike with my stench! And then the shark swelled, froze — and then, right through the shark skin, many harpoons broke out in all directions, hitting players and all living things. The green-gray cloud of acid swelled. At the bottom, the multi-toned, purposeful Contemplator had already grown his new paws...
&nb
sp; Overall — there was only panic scream. Save us, help us! To hell with the lost continent! Keep your Zar'Graad, bastards! Just tell me how to survive! How to save the ships! And we will retreat, we will leave, we will occupy the peripheral islands, and then we will return home. We will not stop you – but help!”
And how to help?
The analysts were busy above the roof, experienced warriors were fighting and newcomers in this business were not fumbling either. But the Contemplator continued to kill and kill.
The shaggy and shabby fleet of the Sleepless managed to punch their way through, and ended up resting against a thick wall separating us from the open ocean. And here, the whole arsenal came into play. The rocks themselves proved to be very strong. Gnome miners broke their pickaxes. Worms the stone-eaters broke their teeth. But things moved along. In an hour, Sleepless widened one of the necks enough for it to be pierced by the magnificent body of the Black Queen – and we left the limits of the Wall at last.
The total expenditure of all the consumables had exceeded all reasonable limits. Went beyond all insane limits, as well. These resources could have been used in a large enough war on the old continent! The total number of destroyed enemies – more than two million piranhas and millipedes.
When I heard the number, I thought I misheard.
Two million monsters! Here was the result of passing through the Wall. Seven hours of continuous firing.
Losses were counted, but two hundred surface ships and three hundred underwater creatures permanently sat at the bottom of the sea. Some of the others still held themselves afloat, but there was a bitter controversy about whether to repair or put them out of their misery.
A huge number of players had known the "joy" of death. Many, more than once or twice. They all lost their levels their skills. Their outfits, personal weapons, alchemy, and magic scrolls. Nobody, not even someone consistently making the worst predictions, could have imagined that the passage through one single obstacle would be so wasteful.
It can be said that the Sleepless were simply robbed.
As soon as we reached the chosen lagoon on the last of the islands, two ships sank with silent relief, and three more fell apart. Various debris swayed on the water.
When I got ashore, I took an ax and followed the black and white wolf running into the jungle. All my team was walking alongside me. Today we would not rest. We would not drink wine, and dance around the fires, we would not admire the starry sky and speak about our dreams. This evening, and part of the night, will be spent on chopping down trees, collecting grass, killing monsters, crushing stones and digging the earth. And the masters will take up their hammers and saws, in order to try to restore at least part of the huge number of ships before dawn.
Yes ... it had been a funny day.
And what would happen tomorrow?
The Bulletin of Valdira is the voice of truth.
We were the Bulletin of Valdira! The most complete and objective source of knowledge about all current events in the magical world of Valdira! We always try to find out what cannot be learned, so that we can then tell our kind and devoted readers!
A wise decision or a fear of risk?
More and more clans make the final decision and turn their ships around. They abandon the dream of being the first ones to reach Zar'Graad. And why? There were several reasons. And they all relied on one thing – finances. Too much money was spent on building and cultivating ships. When you see a monster sending thirty battle frigates to the ship's paradise in one blow ... then you become sober minded. What is better? A phantasmal dream that lies hundreds of nautical miles away from you, or a couple of hundred ships ready to carry passengers and cargo to the old continent? The answer is obvious.
In a word, the mass exodus has begun! The ocean between the leaders of the Tour and the continent is filled with hundreds of ships hurrying home. On the brave faces of the sailors, there is a certain calm and a kind of wise sense of doom. Very little frustration. And no one dares to blame them for anything! After all, at least they tried.
The exact number of ships that turn back home? A bunch of them! Varied are the colors of their sails.
It seems that it is only possible to conquer the ancient lost continent for those who are ready to bring every last penny to the altar of victory, and if this is not enough, then one should place one's own life there too.
The Wall!
Great Oceanic DEATH Wall! That is the next obstacle the resolutely minded sailors met with! You cannot be more specific ... we will not waste our ink. Millions of spectators saw the horrendous show of nature rebelling against stranger. The oceanic arena of death was shown from all angles, from the air and from below as well. We will never forget what we saw...
This time the Messenger will depart from the custom of using beautiful juicy metaphors and bring in some cold, hard facts.
By midnight of the first day of passage of ships through the Wall, a layer of ship fragments, bones, artifacts, cargoes, weapons and other things, reaching a thickness of ten or more meters, was formed! A layered pie from a wide variety of objects appeared on the sea — scoop it up and grow rich. If they let you...
At the same time, the total number of dead monsters reached a figure of thirty million units.
The number of destroyed submarine and surface ships was more than four thousand units.
The first clan passed that through the Wall was through our permanent leader, the Sleepless Clan.
Twenty-three clans have already overcome the Wall.
At the time of this release, another sixty-four clans continued the battle, trying to pass the Wall by night. However, night swimming proves to be a disadvantage.
More than a hundred clans and alliances have risen to anchorage in front of the Wall. They were patiently waiting for the collapse of the KAPS. All without exception hope that soon, the purple monster will fall. His name – "Contemplator of the Fall of Autumn— " seems like a malicious mockery. The Bulletin of Valdira hopes that spending the night right in the open uncharted ocean will pass quietly for these fellows. We all know how the Shaggy Catfish clan ended, in their attempt to reduce the distance to the leader in the night shift ...
Ruthless millstones.
The famous tropical island Paka Ma Tuta became an innocent victim in the disassembly between two fighting clans. The quiet and beautiful place that had never before known war. The bronze-skinned people living there worship the local deity Paku Wanmpu, categorically disapproving of any travels leading farther than a couple of nautical miles from the island's shore. However, the deity was very supportive of the guests. That was why any sea tramp was accepted with warmth. They put a cloak woven from scarlet and blue flowers on their shoulders, put them in a place of honor by the fire, treated them to the best food.
Two other young and daring clans did not wait for the colorful cloaks. They began to plunder the island, unafraid of taking all valuables from the temple of Paku Wanmpu. Then the joint robbery and murdering suddenly turned into a quarrel, and then into a fight. The recent accomplices turned into fierce enemies...
The Royal Marine Guards of the Akelrome rushed in quickly, but they almost did not have to interfere – the island was already covered with gray fumes emanating from the extinguished jungle, and heavy rain poured from the sky. Lightning rumbled. The robbers themselves swayed on the water near the island, expelled from there by an angry deity who had already begun to restore order.
One of the first divine decrees was the following: a taboo on strangers from another world.
From now the island of Paka Ma Tuta is closed to players. Any player who violates the taboo and floats abroad will receive the punishment. It seems that, for a long time, it will be necessary to do without sunbathing on this quiet, peaceful beach with a ripe coconut in your hands, looking at the snow-white sand gracefully dancing half-naked girls with bright flowers in their magnificent loose hair ... Did the robbery cost that?
Attention, adventurers! Repeat – “Pak
a Ma Tuta is closed to us! And the deity is very angry!”
And this was only one of the places mentioned by us in this issue. Villages, towns and fortresses close one after the other. They lower the gate bars, lock the shutters, arm themselves with staves and prepare to give a decisive rebuff to any player who dares to cross the line.
Self-promotion? No! A warning!
Good peaceful players! Traders, farmers, trappers, wandering wizards, minstrels and others – the world of Valdira has become much darker in recent days! Beware of settlements— they can be violent.
From today on, in any newsstand, you can buy a directory with the pages in them. They list all the names of settlements, forts, fortresses and other points on the map where players are not recommended to travel! There are also magical versions of the directory, as well as colorful cards …
Beginners first stepping into the magical "good" world of Valdira – stay close to the Great Cities! They are the safest places in all Algora!
The warning is serious!
The head of the Sleepless Clan, the Black Baroness, announces:
Hey, evil boys and girls!
Did you dance over the threshold of our lands? We will plunder them; we will beat them?
The owner was away for a little while, after all!
Soon we will be back – and I am talking only on behalf of the Sleepless Clan, but on behalf of all the old clans. At one time, we spent months and years trying to win one extra point of positive reputation with "locals.” Although, when can a plus to reputation ever be considered superfluous?
You needed a week to destroy all our labors. And now you fight for our lands, our villages and cities.
Soon, I will be back...
Right after that, I will start counting every blade of grass, every stone and every copper penny! I will count every hair on the heads of those who were protected by Sleepless. And if something is missing — I will personally appear to squeeze the soul of that rat that dared to rob or harm me! You will all answer in front of me! I will squeeze out all the stolen goods from every thievish throat! I will knock on every door – wherever this door was located! Do you hear me, thieves? I will find you, wherever you are! Wherever you hide!
The Way of the Clan 8 Page 36
