The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “I’m all for it,” the Druid spread his arms. “It’s always a pleasure to be ordered around by a pretty lady.”

  “Very good. Do your Rogues have scrolls of revival?”

  “Why?” Moni sounded surprised for the first time during the raid. “We have a Paladin as insurance.”

  “The Paladin won’t be able to hide or teleport to us from a different floor of the Dungeon. I doubt he knows how to fly. As soon as the fight starts, everyone has to take part in it with no exceptions, since the boss’s spells might work across the entire area of the cave. Rogues are the only class that can leave combat in Stealth and hide out in some corner. We’d frequently assign a Paladin-Healer to such a fighter to make sure he’d survive.”

  “What’s the big deal? We’ll just respawn. Nothing terrible about that. This is a one-time boss after all,” spoke up one of the mercenaries, but Anastaria cut him off:

  “Are you prepared to compensate me for the XP I’ll lose? If the raid is revived, no one will lose any Experience, but if everyone has to respawn, we’ll lose 30% of our current Level’s progress. At my level, that’s a steep price to pay. The amount I’d lose would be enough for you to gain two or three levels. Any more questions?”

  “You assigned me to a separate group,” I asked when everyone shook their heads. “Why?”

  “Your job will be to stay in place and not get in the way. You have no Shamanic powers, your lizard tail won’t do much good here, and I doubt you’ll want to lose your Totem here either. In this fight, you’ll be a wagon—and I don’t want anyone spending MP on you. Sorry, but you’re useless here, so I assigned you to a separate group to keep the healers from getting confused. All you can do is stun the mobs once an hour, and that’s not worth keeping you alive for. Any other questions?”

  Why look at that! Yet again Anastaria had managed to explain to everyone what a worthless player I was—and did so using examples and reasons. It was all so eloquent that I couldn’t even object—I really couldn’t accomplish much with my tail here. This wasn’t the roof battle.

  “If everyone’s clear about the plan, we’ll take our positions. We’ll start at ‘go, go, go.’ Ready? Three. Two. Go! Go! Go! ”

  B E W A R E !

  “Kite him to the marker! We need more damage! Tanks—the shades are spawning. Your turn, Plinto! Don’t stand in the puddles! Get behind the columns, everyone! Baruz, take the boss! Now focus the shades! If anyone wastes any more Mana on Mahan, I’ll kick them out of the raid!”

  I was standing beside the sphere with the egg as I’d been ordered, watching the carnage unfold around me. Anastaria issued orders tirelessly, placed markers, guided the players, crawled around on her Siren’s tail and smacked any healers that dared spare a healing spell on me. The boss’s first ability turned out to be ‘Poison Wave’—a huge green wave that instantly killed any players who hadn’t taken cover behind the columns or the Blackeners. The boss cast this wave once a minute, so we had to scatter and hide over and over again. But even if a player managed to survive a wave, he’d receive the ‘Poisoned’ debuff, which sapped 3% of his Hit Points every second. The debuff lasted 10 seconds and it was impossible to dispel it, so the healers had to put in their all once a minute in order to restore the raid’s health. I had to agree with Anastaria—spending MP on a fat Dragon under these circumstances would have been wasteful indeed.

  However, there were upsides too—in my Dragon Form, the Poison Wave had no effect on me at all, and neither did the debuff that followed it. The only inconvenience were the shades that kept spawning. The tanks simply couldn’t gather them in time, so sometimes I’d be attacked by some rabid mob causing me to flee in the direction of a tank. In the midst of a crowd of players the damage caused the shades to aggro someone else, while I regained some Hit Points thanks to several spells of mass healing. Which inevitably ticked off Anastaria.

  B E W A R E !

  “Brother, why aren’t you doing anything?” Draco asked with surprise, when yet another black drop resembling naphtha fell to the ground. The boss’s second spell was ‘Grim Drop.’ The goblin would choose a player at random, make several motions with his hands, and a dark cloud would appear above the target. Then, a drop of oil would precipitate from the cloud. If it hit the player, he’d die on the spot, while all the surviving players around him would receive a minute-long debuff of +100% damage from Poison. As soon as the drop vanished, the boss cast a Poison Wave with all its attendant consequences. By the second Grim Drop, Anastaria figured out that the damage from the Drop had to be distributed among the entire raid, while being mitigated with any defensive spell available.

  “Because I’ve been ordered to stand here and die,” I replied sincerely. “Unfortunately, the goblin’s still using poison, so I’m still alive. And there aren’t any more shades. No, wait, yes there are. Hang on a second.”

  I ran over to the raid again, allowing a tank to take care of the shade that was chasing me.

  “I wasn’t asking you why you’re not attacking the boss,” Draco wouldn’t let up. “I don’t care about him. I’m asking why you’re not doing anything to save the egg. The Siren wants to destroy it!”

  “Well we need to destroy it in any case,” I shook my head. “This world doesn’t need a ruler or a Dragon of Shadow. I’m very sorry.”

  “How can you be so calm about the killing of a Dragon that hasn’t even been born yet?” my Totem exclaimed with outrage. “What is he guilty of? The fact that he might exist?”

  “Look Draco, you have to understand that this…”

  “Brother, it’s you who needs to understand that it’s the Titan and the Siren that need to kill the Dragon—but not you! You are a Dragon! There are so few of us left that every egg has to be protected unto our last drop of blood! Aquarizamax sacrificed himself so that his son could be born. I’m begging you—think about how you could save him! What will happen if a Dragon becomes ruler of this world? I doubt that Eluna or Tartarus would allow him to do anything stupid. To the contrary—Barliona would see an era of progress, a golden age!”

  “Stacey, I have an idea. What if…”

  “No!” Anastaria replied, once I’d relayed Draco’s idea to her. “There shall be no Dragons in Barliona! I have my own interests in this. The time of the Sirens is upon us.”

  B E W A R E !

  “Do something, Brother! They will kill the egg!”

  “Mahan, don’t even think of doing anything! That egg must be destroyed!”

  “Greetings, my failed apprentice,” Geranika joined the two voices already in my head, appearing several meters from me and staring with some surprise at the players fighting the boss. “I’m a bit curious—what are you guys doing here? Ah! Even Kreel is here!”

  “A new target! Baruz, you’re on him. Keep him pinned to the columns!”

  “The target won’t aggro!” the tank exclaimed in surprise when the knife he’d thrown at Geranika passed innocuously through the Lord of Shadow.

  “It’s a projection—ignore it!” Anastaria realized what was happening. “Get ready, the boss’ll start casting a new spell in three minutes! There’ll be another Grim Drop in three seconds!”

  “A projection?” Geranika smirked, adjusting his jacket’s lapel. All of a sudden a thick silence descended on the lair. “Could a projection do—this?”

  The players and boss stopped in their contorted poses. The scene looked like some mad sculptor had created a tableaux of wax figures to show everyone the deadliness of war. The lightning bolts, the arrows, the Grim Drop…just stopped. The entire cave stopped with the exception of Geranika, who began to move toward the players as casually as if he owned the place.

  “As I understand it, partner, you’ve decided to kill my future Dragon?”

  “We’re not partners,” yelled Kreel, regaining his speech at a gesture from Geranika’s hand.

  “Oh really?” The Shaman raised an eyebrow. “You were of such help in acquiring the Heart of Chaos that I’m not ev
en sure whom I should be more grateful to—you or that insignificant creature that brought the Heart into our world. Ayrun, apprise me, what’s going on here?”

  The goblin dusted himself off as if some dirt had gotten on his clothes and walked over to Geranika with a self-assured stride. It was like he hadn’t just lost 47% of his Hit Points.

  “As you anticipated, oh Master, the Free Citizens attacked me in the hopes of destroying the egg. When the battle commenced, I notified you of the assault and began to distract them—as you ordered. I’d like to mention, oh my Master, that this has been a lot of fun. The Free Citizens learn very quickly, improvise well and act decisively. I was about to show them a new trick when you appeared and stopped everything.”

  “You have more work ahead of you then. How is the egg?”

  “I think we can safely break the sphere—Aquarizamax’s spirit has been vanquished.”

  “Are you aware of what awaits you if you are mistaken?” Geranika asked.

  “It was only this knowledge that kept me from notifying you of Aquarizamax’s demise a week ago. He is no longer. I checked everything several times and then checked it again and again—until my supposition had grown to complete certainty—we can safely destroy the sphere now. The egg will survive and you shall have a new warrior.”

  “In that case, I shall take it to Armard,” Geranika sounded pleased. The Blackeners stopped pumping their dark vapor into the sphere, yet it did not flare gold as it had earlier. To the opposite—the sphere grew darker and turned into an ordinary, dead, foggy orb. “You have served me well Ayrun. For bearing me the good news, I’d like to do you a favor now. Ask and I shall grant you any wish you like.”

  “The Siren, Master. She commanded the Free Citizens and I’d very much enjoy a chance to try her in my new trial arena. Once upon a time you told me that only a madman would attempt them, so I need a volunteer. And how is this Siren not a fitting volunteer?”

  “As you wish!” said Geranika and the raid party lost one player. Surprisingly, after Anastaria vanished, the Lord of Shadow grew lean as if he’d suddenly aged 300 years—his face grew sallow and his hands began to tremble—yet the Shaman remained standing on two legs, smirking wryly at the world around him.

  “Thank you, Master,” the goblin mumbled reverently, bowing deeply. “Do you have plans for the others?”

  “Yes, for Mahan and Kreel—but not just this moment. Transporting a Free Citizen against her will is very exhausting. You may kill them all now—I will deal with those two later. Deliver the Blackeners and the egg to my castle!” Geranika ordered the shades that had appeared. “Destroy all the Free Citizens and raze the tower. I want no memory of this place and the Dragon that lived in it to remain after you are done!”

  The players’ frames began to go gray one after the other—Geranika opened a portal between the raid and the egg, so the shades decided to combine the pleasant with the useful and reach the Blackeners without leaving a single survivor in their wake. As luck would have it, it was looking like I’d be the last one to respawn.

  “Brother! Do something! They will take the egg!” Draco pleaded. I tried to move, but Geranika’s ‘Stop’ spell remained in effect. What could I do? Stand there and look on as Barliona acquired a new epic monster? Witness us becoming the cause of a new global event that would unite a myriad of players into one effort? The social component is the social component? We are all one and all that noise…?

  As if!

  I didn’t have the strength to break Geranika’s bonds—our levels were too far apart. But I did know of one creature in this world who could help me receive immunity from Geranika’s spell, even if temporarily—Eluna. The goddess had promised to give me a present—why not call in the favor right now?

  “Eluna, I’ve rarely asked you for anything,” I addressed the goddess mentally, “but this right now is one such moment when I need your assistance. Barliona’s fate depends on whether or not I can stop Geranika right now.”

  “What do you want, Shaman?” the response came immediately. “To save the egg? I cannot promise that the Golden Dragon will bring peace and tranquility to Barliona. The Dragon that calls you his son, foretold the coming of the Golden Dragon who would enslave all the races of the world and become their Master. Is this the fate that you want for Barliona? There is no difference to me, whether the Dragon is Golden or Shadow. Were it up to me, I would destroy the egg myself—but I cannot. So I shall ask you one more time: What do you want, Shaman?”

  “I want thirty seconds of complete immunity from Geranika’s spells,” I said—suddenly realizing what I had to do. All it took was for Eluna to mention my father and the puzzle pieces snapped into place. How is it I hadn’t figured this out earlier? “And control over my body. Just trust me, oh goddess. Have I ever failed you?”

  “There is a first time for everything. Thirty seconds, Shaman. You will have thirty seconds. After that, I will be powerless to help you. Do what you must!”

  Buff received: Eluna’s Kiss.

  “How curious,” Geranika froze as soon as a golden cloud appeared around me. “Have you decided to flee?”

  “Something like that,” I parried. Having no time to spend on idle conversation, I dashed to the sphere, coiled my tail around it, raising it from the floor, and cast a portal to Vilterax. The mention of Renox had made everything fall into its right place—in several weeks my father would go to his rest. That was a given that I could not change. Even Eluna has asked me not to interfere. Consequently, the head of the Dragons would die. However! My tail held the very one who would become the future head of the Dragons! Nowhere did it say that the Golden Dragon had to become the master of Barliona. No—he shall become the master of the world that he lives in. Therefore, Vilterax shall now encounter its new leader and the poor Ice Giants, the eternal foes of the Dragons, shall fall to their knees before the Golden Dragon. But not Barliona! Why hadn’t I thought about this earlier?

  “Farewell all! Don’t forget to write,” I said, diving into the portal.

  “Son?” Renox said with astonishment when I appeared on the stone platform dusted with snow. “I did not expect you to appear so soon.”

  “Vilterax…of course. How did I not guess earlier?” said Geranika spitefully, appearing several meters beside me.

  “The enemy?” Renox asked with even more surprise. “Did you forget something here?”

  “Father, he wants to take the egg of the Golden Dragon!” I yelled, anxiously checking the ‘Kiss of Eluna’ timer. Fifteen seconds more. There was still time, but it was fading quickly.

  “What?!” roared Renox, turning to look at the Shaman—but at the same time, Geranika turned into something terrible. Black tattered wings sprouted from his back. His eyes turned red and some kind of deadly aura that destroyed all life within a meter-wide radius around him—whether vegetable or mineral—appeared around him, causing the dark Shaman to look like he was suspended in nothing. This was the combat form of the Lord of Shadow, a Level 500 sentient of Barliona. A terrifying sight.

  “YOU!” A dark fog seeped from Geranika’s hands and coiled around me. For the first time since his appearance, I saw Geranika enraged. “YOU DARED TO INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS? IT IS TIME TO END THIS! THE EGG SHALL BE MINE!”

  Buff received ‘Curse of the Lord of Shadow’: All stats, including those modified by items, decreased by 90%.

  …

  ‘Curse of the Lord of Shadow’ has been dispelled by ‘Eluna’s Kiss.’

  “YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE MY PUNISHMENT?” Geranika took a step in my direction, melting the stone under his feet. “YOU ARE A PATHETIC LITTLE SLUG THAT I CAN CRUSH AT WILL!”

  Strange sparks appeared among the fog seeping from Geranika’s hands, but here Renox came to.

  “You have no power in this place, Lord of Shadow,” Renox said in a fairly calm voice, and yet I knew this Dragon well enough to know that he was currently at the limits of his powers. The fog and sparks seeping from Geranika’s hands sca
ttered against the protective sphere that had formed around me, Eluna’s buff expired, but the situation was looking like a stalemate. Geranika could not kill me, and yet Renox couldn’t do anything to him, since all his energy was channeled to protecting me. It went on like this for an eternity—although the timer indicated that only 90 seconds had elapsed. After that, other Dragons joined the contest.

  “YOU SHALL NOT HIDE FROM MY WRATH!” Geranika bellowed as twenty Dragons blew their fire on him simultaneously. Another ten helped Renox hold the protective dome, protecting me from the Shadow Lord’s wrath. To be honest, I had no idea what the players who were assaulting Armard were even thinking: Geranika had such vast power that a mere flourish of his hand would suffice to wipe out an army. It’s odd that the devs endowed a Shaman with such power. What purpose did an enemy like this serve?

  “You have no power in these lands, Lord of Shadow,” Renox repeated. “Flee while you can, or you shall be crushed like a pitiful insect. At the dawn of Barliona, we killed those like you by the hundreds. Do you really believe we can’t deal with you?”

  “YOU CANNOT DESTROY ME, DRAGON,” Geranika yelled. The Shaman’s black wings resembled a bunch of charred bones—tongues of dragon fire periodically flashed between his transparent body, suggesting that not everything was okay there either, but Geranika continued to shoot the fog with its terrible sparks in my direction. What a persistent NPC!

  “But I can make your immortal life a hell!”

  Immortal life? That was a thing in Barliona?

  “YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT TRUE HELL! I SHALL RETURN, DRAGON, AND SHOW IT TO YOU! YOU SHALL ANSWER FOR EVERYTHING!” Geranika seethed and vanished. The protective dome around me disappeared with him, and all the Dragons, including Renox, collapsed to the ground exhausted. As for me, I had to fly up into the air, since the boiling stone underfoot wasn’t a good surface to rest on.

  “My son, I won’t even ask how you managed to acquire the egg of the Golden Dragon,” Renox finally summoned the strength to raise his head. “Something else worries me—what is this sphere around it?”