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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “That, father, is the Last Will of Aquarizamax,” Draco replied for me. “Geranika broke his spirit and vanquished it, but we managed to steal the egg just in time.”

  “Aquarizamax?” Renox even stood up a little from surprise. “You have seen the Golden Dragon? How did it come to pass that he used his Last Will?”

  “Geranika. He found the Dragon’s lair.”

  Draco began to relate to Renox what we had seen in the cutscene, but I was worried about another issue—how could we destroy the sphere, extract the egg and most importantly remove the dagger hilt that still glowed with its silvery light. After all, this was the entire point of my campaign into the Dragon’s Dungeon.

  Unable to come up with anything better, I grasped the hilt with my paw and pulled, drawing it from the sphere. There was a revolting ‘smack,’ as though something large had been pulled out of mud and the once-golden sphere vanished, unveiling a snow-white egg.

  “My son, drop the dagger. It must be destroyed,” Renox immediately demanded.

  “This isn’t a dagger—only its hilt. I need it, father. It should not be destroyed.”

  “I won’t ask why you need a piece of Geranika. You will answer for your actions.” To my surprise, Renox quickly backed down, permitting me to keep the dagger hilt whole. “However, you should know that as long as you have this item, no sentient light or dark, will speak with you. To the contrary, they will do their best to destroy you—for, whoever carries an item of Shadow, is Shadow himself. My duty is to warn you of this.”

  “Destroy me? Even those who swore allegiance to me?”

  “Yes. But they will be unable to do so, and will therefore quickly perish from the contradiction rendering them asunder. Their instincts will drive them to vanquish the servant of Shadow, while their duty will compel them to give their lives for their master. You cannot go to your castle—unless you want to empty it. I have warned you. Now you’re on your own.”

  “What else is there—in addition to everyone wanting to kill me, that is? And, while we’re on the subject—why aren’t you or the other Dragons attacking me?”

  “Because we have seen how you came by this item. So we can understand who is a true servant of Shadow and who is merely under its influence. We are Dragons after all. I am certain that you have many questions for me, but I cannot answer them right now. I must prepare the Golden Dragon for his hatching before that which we both know must come to pass—comes to pass. I need to find him a mentor and arrange training grounds for him. A new master shall soon appear in our world.”

  The Dungeon of Aquarizamax has been destroyed.

  You can no longer receive a First Kill for this Dungeon.

  Erm…HUH? I’d never seen a notification like this and something told me that Kreel would be a little unhappy. Although…wait! I’d completely forgotten about my payment for accessing the Dungeon!

  “I only have one question,” I managed to blurt in the wake of the departing Dragon. “Who knows where the remaining items from the Divine Set of the First King of the Titans are located? If it weren’t for the Titan, we’d never even reach the Dungeon and rescue the egg. I owe him.”

  “In the depths of the Elma Mountains lives a hermit,” replied Renox after a slight pause. “He knows where the other items are located. I have sent you the coordinates of his abode; however, I do not know how you can get him to speak with you. You will need to learn that on your own. For now, please excuse me—I have business to attend to.”

  Quest completed: ‘Assassinate the Dragon Aquarizamax.’ Completion percentage: 200. Reward: +10 Levels, +20 to all main stats, +5% to all equipment characteristics, +1000 Reputation with all encountered factions.

  The Emperor of Malabar wishes to speak with you.

  Chapter Eight. Premonition

  As soon as the ‘quest completed’ message faded, everything grew dark around me. Renox, Draco and the bone-chilling wind of Vilterax all vanished. Everything I was used to seeing vanished, and yet a familiar image appeared before me—the location loading bar. Had the admins really summoned me again? For what?

  “Last time the table was made of metal,” I said to the utterly average-looking man, taking my seat in the lavish armchair across from him.

  “Last time you were a prisoner. I was risking a lot pulling you out back then,” said James with a smile. He was the Corporation employee ‘responsible for the recent mess that has been happening on our continent.’ “Now, however, I’m acting entirely within the bounds of the Corporation’s license agreement. Should I tell you which statue I’m referring to, or will you take it on faith?”

  “I guess I’ll take your word for it. But why am I here?”

  “Why just think about it—but no, that’ll take too long. When you were released, I promised myself that I’d share twenty percent of my winnings with you. So I need your account number. Besides that, I also wanted to thank you!”

  “You’re still placing bets on me?” I asked surprised. “I thought I had become useless to you.”

  “Do you know what this is?” James suddenly produced a giant stack of documents from the desk.

  “A bunch of papers. Someone in your office isn’t right in the head and insists on using paper for documentation.”

  “Paper is more secure,” James replied unfazed. “Here you go. I imagine you’ll understand immediately what we’re talking about.”

  James shoved the 500-page thick binder over to me. I looked down and made out a single clear line among the heap of cypher: ‘Project: The Cursed Dragon of Shadow—Rules & Regulations. Project duration: 16 months.’

  “The Cursed Dragon of Shadow was its own project?” My astonishment knew no bounds.

  “With its own substantial budget, and enormous team of scripters, developers and designers. The only person who hasn’t worked on this project in the last six months is perhaps the boss himself.”

  “What do you need two monsters for?”

  “Are you talking about Geranika? He’s not a monster—he’s the ruler of the enemy Empire. We’re still in a transitional period, so the players can still see him. But soon enough Geranika will be relegated to his castle and will rule exclusively through his analogs of Heralds and Advisers. At least that’s what it says here. As it happens, I’ve gotten my hands on another document that’s even thicker than this one: ‘Scenario for the Development of the Shadow Empire. Volume 4 of 8.’”

  “I’m not sure I follow, Jim…”

  “Geez, what did I decide to work with a Shaman for? Look, you just dumped 15 months of work by three hundred people down the drain. The Shadow Dragon was supposed to be the main boss of the upcoming expansion, and yet the great hero rode in and decided to nix the whole thing.”

  “Are you talking about me?”

  “Well who else? It’s been only ten minutes since you stole the egg, and we’ve already had three heart attacks. The manager in charge isn’t answering his phone. He’s locked himself in his office. The scenario designer is waist deep in manuals trying to cook up a way to steal back the Dragon without creating continuity errors. Basically, everyone’s bent over backwards, everyone’s shocked, everyone’s depressed and you’re the only one galloping around on his horse like some d’Artagnan. I told them right off the bat that you shouldn’t be allowed into the Dungeon, lest all our efforts turn out in vain. They didn’t believe me. Hell, they even made fun of me. In effect I wanted to say thank you for giving me the opportunity to show up one of my more annoying coworkers. Technically, she’s my boss, but she can go to…you know where. So will you give me your account number? I don’t feel like looking it up in the database.”

  “You can’t steal the egg,” I mumbled, not quite buying James’s story.

  “Relax, we can’t remove the egg from the land of the Dragons. These other worlds were created precisely to keep whatever’s in them…in them. No one’s going to allow our team to adjust code that’s been around for years. It’d be too risky. We’ll simply have to be more t
horough during beta testing next time. Who could’ve thought of testing for a player with a really high Reputation and with a race that was immune to Poison—and who in addition to this could cast a portal to a different world? But…Oh well, someone’s getting canned. That’s for sure.”

  “So how much did you win?”

  “If you consider the number of idiots that lined up to make the bet at the given odds, well, forty million. Eight million of it’s yours.”

  “Forty million?!” I exclaimed. “Is everyone who works for the Corporation a billionaire?”

  “I told you, this is taking the odds into account. It was a hundred thousand to enter. That’s a completely normal amount.”

  “I don’t know. If you ask me, that’s an unheard of number. Here’s my account number.”

  “Uh-huh. Right. Got the number, said thank you, told you about Geranika. Now I can return you where I pulled you from. Say hi to Kreel for me!”

  My surroundings grew dim yet again and a loading bar appeared—all before I could react to the news that James knew Kreel. How? Did he really just openly confirm Anastaria’s guess that Kreel was a member of the Corporation? One who was working on the ‘Cursed Dragon of Shadow’ project perhaps? I guess it’s no wonder how he got his rare class then…

  “The griefer’s back,” Moni growled from his strange chair fashioned from sand. The desert’s blazing sun was already casting its debuffs on me, welcoming me back to Barliona. “He’s about to sing us a song about the white buffalo.”

  “Is there something you want to tell us, Mahan?” Kreel’s voice forced me to turn. Half of the raid was scattered around the ground, playing the role of innocent casualties, while several healers were going around reviving them. In other words, we were still in the same place where the tower had once stood. Someone had managed to survive its complete destruction and begun to revive the players. Well that’s something—at least they won’t lose the XP. The corpse of Aquarizamax was also here among the slain players—and so was Spiteful Gnum, bustling over and whistling some tune. Considering the size of the dagger he was holding, his current activity and the constant giggling which interrupted his tune, I really did not want to know what he was up to.

  “Uh…” I spread my arms in a gesture of guilt. “Well we finished the quest…”

  “You destroyed the Dungeon,” Kreel pointed out.

  “Oh come on! That wasn’t my fault. Everyone heard Geranika order the raid destroyed and the tower razed. If I hadn’t taken the egg, nothing would’ve changed—we just weren’t destined to complete that Dungeon. And rather than scolding me, you should talk to your Raid Leader. Why didn’t he anticipate the goblin warning Geranika? If we had blocked the call right off the bat, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘ifs,’ don’t you think? Sets my teeth on edge,” Moni frowned.

  “I have twenty mercenaries in the raid, who came along for the sake of the First Kill,” Kreel piped up from the other side. “What am I supposed to tell them now? That the two weeks they spent on the tower was a waste? It wasn’t like this was their quest.”

  “Kreel—you’re talking to the wrong person again. I spent the entire battle standing there, doing nothing as I’d been told. I wasn’t the one guiding the raid. And I didn’t destroy the Dungeon. Send Anastaria the invoice. Let her pay for the lost time. A hundred grand to each should be enough. And if you need proof that she’s at fault, you can use her own words…Erm…I don’t remember exactly what she said, but she definitely took over at a certain point. No one forced her to do that. And if the Dungeon that was supposed to grant a First Kill to the players was destroyed due to her guidance, then the Raid Leader is the one responsible for compensation. Otherwise, why’d they create that role to begin with?”

  “That’s an idea Kreel!” Moni quacked, jumping up from his sandy throne. “Let me look into this issue. I have some lawyer friends.”

  “All right, it’s decided. What about the information about the Divine set you promised me, Mahan? I was supposed to get it if we received the First Kill. The Dungeon’s gone, so our contract is terminated, but I still need the info.”

  “Here,” I sent the Titan the hermit’s coordinates and a portion of the video I had recorded of Renox telling me about the set. “I don’t see any point in stiffing you. If you get the Hermit to talk, I want you to tell me how you did it. For everyone’s edification. If it doesn’t work—sorry, the Barliona devs are an odd bunch…By the way, one of them wanted me to say hi to you. He calls himself James. He’s in charge of the expansions. That’s it. I got nothing to do here, so I’ll be on my way. Make sure to write.”

  * * *

  “In the name of Malabar, I shall vanquish the servant of Shadow!” screamed the guard. A wave of pain flashed across my body and a message appeared, glibly notifying me that I’d have to spend the next twelve hours outside of Barliona. They’d just sent me to respawn!

  ‘There you have it!’ I thought as the cocoon lid slid aside. Renox was right—I had no business in the cities or Altameda with the old man’s present, the dagger’s hilt. As soon as the guards saw me, they did their best to kill me. And if I went to my castle, Viltrius and the rest of my personnel would lose their minds from the contradiction. Did I really need this? Nope. So Altameda was temporarily off limits. On the other hand, all I had to do was complete the other Dungeon, acquire the other half of the dagger and then follow the plan. Why despair? There are plenty of locations in Barliona without any NPCs. I’ll have to be patient for a few weeks. Nothing will happen to me.

  Thinking such happy thoughts, I got into bed and fell asleep.

  “Good morning, Daniel. It’s time to wake up. Your breakfast is served,” a female voice awoke me. My surprise dispelled any drowsiness in a flash. I sat up abruptly, looked around my room and saw the attractive young woman placing a hamburger, some fries and a beverage on my coffee table—along with my favorite mustard sauce. All clearly from one of those fast food joints preferred by people over a hundred (kilograms, not years, that is).

  “Why such sudden generosity?” I had grown accustomed to playing completely naked in my long-term immersion cocoon and had dived into my bed without getting dressed last night, so now I didn’t really feel like showing off my well-toned, unclothed body to the girl.

  “We have brought the Jeweler’s toolkit you ordered. On the way I stopped by a fast food place wishing to surprise you. No one likes to live off the food from the nourishment module forever. Have a seat.”

  “Erm…” I muttered.

  “You can stay wrapped in your bed cover,” the girl laughed, realizing what was going on. “To be honest, I forgot that you’re a player. Our typical clients are not the kind to spend a lot of time in Barliona. I can turn away, if you like.”

  “As you like,” I mumbled, wrapping myself tighter in the cover and rolling over, literally, to the coffee table. “What’s in the burger?”

  After I was left alone, I put on some underwear, sat down in a chair and heaved the Jeweler’s toolkit onto my knees. My hands were trembling from impatience to tear off the shrink wrap and open the lid, but first I forced myself to calm down. It doesn’t do for a thirty-year old man to tremble before such a little novelty as if he’s some morally-depraved seventeen-year-old girl. And a blonde to boot.

  Everything should be done judiciously, carefully and gradually—as behooves a man of my status.

  The case’s dimensions were quite imposing—it was one and a half meters wide, about a meter long and twenty to thirty centimeters high. The box barely fit atop my knees, and weighed quite a bit, forcing me to give the girl who’d brought it her fair due. Still, I didn’t want to open the case on the floor. The toolkit was drawing me almost on a physical level. It’s odd. I’d been afflicted by such a tremor only once before—when they’d delivered my capsule for Barliona. Back then, I couldn’t stay in place and kept interfering and poking around as the workers were installing and assembling the capsule.
Back then my excitement made sense, since I’d waited for that capsule for almost a year, but now…I don’t even know. Probably my organism wanted to see the mandrel, the wire, the instruments which had become like family to me…I had no other explanation, but that was enough to hurriedly tear off the wrapper, lift the lid and stare at the toolkit’s contents.

  MY BEAUTY!

  How does one describe the feelings of a stamp collector who’s just acquired a rare stamp? Or of a numismatist who’s managed to get his hands on a singular coin? Or of an ugly guy, who’s just been asked on a date by the prettiest girl in town?

  Ecstasy? Rapture? Nirvana? Trance? All of the above?

  I was looking at the wire, the miniature anvil, the incus, the melting furnace, the pieces of metal, the mandrel, the settings for the stones, the stones themselves, the polishing wheel and I understood that I had just learned what happiness was. My hands reached for the copper wire and the mandrel on their own and my consciousness clicked on. Purely automatically, in a regime I had developed back at the mines, I began to wrap a ring. One coil, then a second, then a third. This one was lying poorly and had to be changed. This one was good. Now we carefully remove the ring from the mandrel and begin to wrap it with a wire along its length, trying to secure the result and make the ring durable. The act of creation consumed me so fully that I looked up only when the wire that came with the toolkit had run out. My floor was littered with wire rings, yet no message appeared telling me that I had increased my Jewelcrafting by a hundred percent. Had I made some mistake? I had used the standard recipe after all, and my Jewelcrafting skill was pretty high, so something should have gone up. Had I really reached Level 12 Jewelcrafting for nothing? What a pity.

  I’d need to go see Rine and ask him for another profession. Like for example, a Tanner. There’re a lot of rats in the mines so it wouldn’t be a problem to acquire some hides. And if anything, Kart would share some with me. By the way, I’ve noticed that the Rats had stopped showing up at my site, so I’d need to ask to visit someone else’s. The convicts would surely share their Rats in exchange for some rings. After all, the Rats were useless to most of them. And in general, I hate the Rats. They’re ugly, gray, and they’re constantly darting here and there and trying to sneak into every little nook and cranny and at the same time they think so highly of themselves. Bunch of prom queens! Who gave her the right to treat me that way? For what? Everyone thinks that that damn rodent is so intelligent and shrewd, and yet somehow she fails to consider the consequences of leaving my clan. Stop. What clan? What rodent? Wasn’t I just going on about Rats just now? What does…