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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Stacey, I need you. ASAP!” I screamed and sent a summons, without even considering that the Paladin hadn’t been in game for several days. I needed her. And she was the only player whom I could summon into the Dungeon, while also the only player I didn’t want to see here. But circumstances demanded it.

  “I’m here!”

  “Here’s the invite. Hell’s about to get Exploded!”

  BOOM!

  Scraps of the Shadow tank went flying across the entire room, passing through us and dealing no damage—and meanwhile, the original Hellfire, who had tucked his head in, remained standing in his place. Two more shadows joined the second Shadow Hellfire and the Shadow Shaman. These turned into mimics of Hellfire and Anastaria, but our Warrior quickly regained his composure and aggroed the newcomers.

  “Explode every four minutes,” Hellfire said instead of a greeting.

  “Copy,” replied Anastaria and suddenly her character transformed. Her armor, her weapons, her equipment all vanished. Everything vanished aside from two snow-white bands around her chest and hips. The girl’s avatar was rendered so impeccably that for a little bit I tuned out the world around me. Despite her horrible nature, Anastaria was beautiful. There was no arguing against this obvious fact. Several moments later, her mimic changed too, adding a second naked girl to the Dungeon.

  “Heeeey!” Plinto quipped without pausing his lockpicking of the chest. “Always dreamed of seeing an Anastaria striptease. Do you think they’ll dance? Where do I stick my gold?”

  Anastaria didn’t pay any attention to Plinto’s comments, nor did she ask what she was doing here or how Hellfire had come to join us. She stepped over to the wall and out of the way and began to heal the tank. Not a nod of greeting, nor a word about where she’d been, nor even a glance in my direction. Ab-so-lute-ly no-thing.

  I couldn’t understand what was bugging me. Maybe it was that this was further evidence that Anastaria was such an ungrateful jerk that she couldn’t even thank me. But the hell with ‘thank you,’ a mere ‘hi’ would do! Does she not have the time for it or something? As if! I could plainly see that between casting spells, Anastaria was simply standing there like a pretty statue. Not one motion, not one look to the side—complete concentration on the frames of the players and the tank. If I hadn’t seen Anastaria in battle earlier, I may have thought that all of her consciousness was invested in the fight. But that just wasn’t the case!

  A dim haze appeared before my eyes, while my hate of Stacey, hidden deep in my chest, began to bubble to the surface. It didn’t matter that we wouldn’t be able to complete this Dungeon without her help, I simply wanted to punish the girl for making me hate her again. Punish her in some way that she would remember for a long time. Burn her!

  I don’t remember how I turned into a Dragon. Quite simply, at one point I realized that the cave around me grew much smaller than it had been and that my body, now armored in scales, had trouble fitting into it. Plinto grumbled something unhappily when my tail almost knocked the chest over, but I didn’t pay him any heed. In order to incinerate Anastaria, who remained standing by the wall, I had to turn around—but my way had been blocked by her defender: A Dragon of Shadow!

  You cannot use Dragon’s Breath until you reach Dragon Rank 50.

  WHAT?! I can’t do something? Why who will stop me? This poor imitation of a Dragon? As if!

  You have activated first acceleration.

  “Mahan, what the hell are you doing?! Turn back into your human form!” Hellfire shouted angrily when the Shadow Dragon’s flame began to pour over him. I attacked the boss with simple Fire, which I had by default and which did absolutely nothing—even at first acceleration it did no damage to the mimics. My own mimic, meanwhile, began to douse Hellfire with its flame, giving rise to the dwarf’s indignation. I don’t get it—is this bastard going to copy everything I do?

  You have activated second acceleration.

  The familiar drums began to pound in my head, but I didn’t stop. I remembered that during my duel with Shiam, it had taken acceleration level four to do damage with Dragon’s Breath. Since I didn’t even have this spell at the moment, I’d need to go to fifth or even sixth acceleration to achieve the same. The mimic needed several seconds to copy me, but I wouldn’t give it the opportunity.

  You have activated third acceleration.

  An unbearable weight bound my body. The drums in my head were beating ever more frequently, my eyes teared up, but my target remained visible—the Shadow Dragon. I forgot Anastaria, the Dungeon and Barliona—all that remained was the knowledge that this creature could not be allowed to exist. No one will have it easy if Geranika finds out about him.

  You have activated fourth acceleration.

  The weight, the pain, and the drums were tearing me apart—at fourth acceleration everything had mixed together. The Shadow Dragon’s lifebar began to fall gradually, while the two creatures standing beside it waved their arms and tried to get in my way—yet I no longer understood a thing. I had to kill my enemy.

  You have activated fifth acceleration.

  “Please forgive my unexpected visit, but I just cannot permit you to destroy this new toy. I need it too much,” sounded Geranika’s voice, after which my consciousness checked out to its well-earned vacation. What did he mean by “I cannot permit?”

  Darkness…

  Dragon Rank promotion. Current level: 16.

  Your character has acquired a new ability: ‘True Sight’—See an enemy’s weak points. Damage done in Dragon Form increased by 30%.

  “The Dragon of Shadow…” Renox growled slowly, pulling me from the darkness and forcing me to open my eyes. Snowy mountains, Draco’s pensive face, and several other Dragons circling in the distance. Vilterax! “Geranika has acquired his Dragon of Shadow. It is sad to realize that dark times await Kalragon.”

  “He could not have acquired him!” I tried to respond, managing only a groan. I tried to stagger to my feet, but my body refused to listen to me and even my tail refused to move.

  “Lie still, you must recover. It is strange that you are alive at all—Dragons who have lost half their bodies do not typically live long. But since you are here and even arguing with me—you should survive. Form a minor circle!”

  “There’ll be a little pain, brother,” added Draco. “Try not to scream.”

  Darkness…

  “Well I can say one thing for certain—he’s breathing,” Plinto interrupted my next sojourn in unconsciousness. “Someone’s even sutured his jaw back on.”

  “Maybe we should revive him, Stacey?” Hellfire’s voice joined Plinto’s.

  “No,” Anastaria cut him off. “He’s a Dragon. If you don’t need me here anymore, I’ll be on my way.”

  Through sheer force of will I opened my eyes and caught the fading portal that the girl had departed through.

  Achievement earned!

  First Kill of the Mimic King of the Shadow Dungeon.

  Achievement reward: Summon a mimic of yourself for 3 minutes. This summon may be used once a day.

  Message for the player: In five months’ time you will be teleported to an audience with the Emperor of Malabar…

  “What happened?” Unlike in Vilterax, I could speak normally in Barliona. The two Shadow Hellfires and naked Shadow Anastaria stood frozen like statues before me—yet the boss’s fourth part, the Shadow Dragon, was nowhere to be seen.

  “Geranika happened,” Plinto explained. “He came, he saw, he ripped you up to little pieces (and I mean literally—I’ll show you the video later), he took his half-dead Dragon that you’d incinerated almost to a cinder, and then he conquered.”

  “But you guys are all right?” I inquired, returning to my human form.

  “I don’t think he had any time for us. You singed him along with his new pet. Took off ten percent of his Hit Points in a few moments.”

  “Seven,” Hellfire corrected the Rogue. “What really ticked him off wasn’t the damage, but his cape that you i
ncinerated. Guess he was fond of it. But yeah, it was quite the spectacle when he tore you up.”

  “What about these guys?” I nodded at the three statues, trying to avoid the image of a burning Shaman tearing apart a four-meter Dragon with his hands.

  “Good question. We were going to ask you,” Plinto piped up again. “Typically the boss dies and the players get the loot. This time though, we got the loot, but the boss is still alive. Looks like a bug. You hear that, devs? You’re a bunch of bunglers!”

  There was no response from the admins, so Plinto shrugged and began to go through his loot:

  “And so! As a result of completing the Dungeon in an accelerated manner, we have acquired the following: Plate armor—set of three. Sharp knives—set of three (for exclusive use by Rogues). An Epic piece of junk called a Unifier—set of one. Heap of gold—set of immense, and not ours anyway. And, lest we forget, a treasure chest—set of one!”

  “Erm…”

  “That’s the chest the loot was in. Typically it vanishes, but well, typically it doesn’t get lockpicked by a handsome devil.”

  “And what the hell do we need it for?”

  “I have no idea. We can’t use it to store stuff—it doesn’t have slots. As I see it, the best use for it is to toss it into the bag and save it for later if I need to show off for some ladies at the Horseshoe.”

  “Give me the Unifier. I need that. Where’s the rest of the raid?”

  “They’re fighting the second boss. Just because we got the First Kill doesn’t mean that all the other bosses dropped dead.”

  “Kalatea, did you earn your First Kill?” I asked the Shaman in the raid chat.

  “Yes. I can’t talk right now—let’s settle accounts later.”

  “Plinto, finish them off just in case,” I asked the Rogue, indicating the mimic statues. “One Hellfire is enough for Barliona—no point in breeding him.”

  “Wait,” exclaimed the Warrior. He stepped up to the mimic tank and picked him up from the ground with ease—as if the boss really had turned into a statue. “These are sculptures. I’m taking mine. You can destroy Anastaria if you like.”

  “Should I start cutting?” Plinto asked mockingly, looking me in the eyes. I shook my head, admitting to myself that having an exact replica of a naked Anastaria in my castle was a very attractive proposition. If this really was a sculpture, that is. I’ll ask Viltrius to look after her.

  “In that case, I’ll help deliver her to Altameda.” Whistling some sort of tune, Plinto approached the frozen Shadow Anastaria and grabbed her by the armpits. “You don’t mind if I return the sculpture tomorrow? I want to check something.”

  “All right,” I nodded, not really imagining what the Rogue had planned. It wouldn’t be some perversion, would it? I wouldn’t put it past him.

  “Mahan,” said Hellfire, once we were left alone together, “there’re two issues we need to resolve. The first is when you’re planning on going to Armard. The second is whether you’ll make me a Lovers’ pendant.”

  “Tomorrow and…I haven’t picked up the recipe yet,” I replied, trying not to look surprised. You really do discover a lot of new gossip whenever you create an item useful to everyone. The great Hellfire, the doom of all (with perhaps the exception of Plinto) turns out to be a normal person. He loves a woman and a woman loves him! What is the world coming to? “But in any case, I’ll need a Diamond. Oh and also, I’m not sure whether I’ll be there—as I told you, I don’t have the recipe yet—but be ready to drop by my castle together with your other half.”

  “How much will you charge for the work? The Dark Forest demonstrated that you don’t charge cheap.”

  “The work won’t cost anything if you provide the ingredients. I can’t profit from others’ feelings—Eluna will eat me alive, bones and all.”

  “When will you pick up the recipe then?”

  “I’d like to do it today,” I replied honestly. I opened my mail and sighed heavily—I had received twelve thousand requests for pendants. I can’t very well deny the players in their desires to speak with their loved ones, but even if I could craft a pendant a minute, it’d take me 200 hours of crafting to satisfy all these requests. A month’s worth of work at a standard 40-hour work week. And that’s assuming that I wouldn’t receive any more requests for pendants.

  “In that case, here’s the Diamond. If you need us to be there in person, then don’t do anything. I want to make it a birthday surprise for her.”

  “It’s a deal. Just in case, give me her handle. Who knows—maybe that and your permission is all it takes to bind it. You do agree, don’t you? As a matter of formality…”

  “I agree to the binding and grant my permission to bind the girl too,” Hellfire replied. He paused a bit and then went on: “Her current handle is Mirida the Farsighted. You’ve met before, back in Beatwick.”

  Chapter Ten. Into Armard

  “Here is your recipe,” the gnome master said in a business-like tone, offering me a small scroll. “Per the agreement, it’s been registered in every jewelry catalog, so don’t expect the requests to slow down any time soon. You know, in a way I envy you—such extreme demand for a craftsman is very rare in this day and age.”

  “Is it really impossible to transfer the recipe—or the rights or license to it—to someone else, so I don’t have to make all these pendants myself?” I made another attempt to wriggle out of the ‘burden’ of the Lovers’ pendants. I didn’t have enough time to do all that work, yet I couldn’t refuse to do it either.

  “You’re not looking forward to creating some good in this world?” the gnome asked with evident surprise. “Isn’t the opportunity to unite the hearts of two lovers what every creator wants?”

  “I’m not refusing to craft the pendant for the lovers that need it, especially since I’m the only one who can do it,” I began to backpedal, sensing a looming blow to my Reputation. “But you have to understand my side of things too. I am an Artificer. You’ve seen my recipe book—the Chess Sets, the Amulet, the Pendant, the Stone of Light. I make my way in crafting by creating novelties, not stamping out one and the same item according to a template. I mean, imagine if my next creation will be, say, the Chain of Immortality, which allows the residents of Barliona to survive death? The Emperor’s Seal of Death is good and all, but it’s even better to have an option or two. And yet instead of creating an item that’s useful to everyone—not just lovers—I’ll be sitting there churning out pendants. In my view, this is simply a waste of talent and resources.”

  The gnome fell deep in thought. Any way you spin it, my arguments were as solid as reinforced concrete—if I delete my avatar, will the Corporation really put off the introduction of this new method of telepathic communication? They’re not idiots up there after all. In fact, to this very day, the powers in charge of Barliona had never once given me a reason to doubt their competence. They even managed to reintroduce the Dragon of Shadow into the game, despite the collapse of the initial scenario. It followed that there had to be some way around my problem with the pendant. All I needed to do was poke around until I found it.

  “There is a grain of truth in what you say, Earl,” the gnome said, stroking his beard. “There are indeed too few Artificers in our day and age, and to fetter yet another one to the workbench…But, as I have already said, you are the creator of an Epic recipe that is accessible to you alone. For this reason…”

  “There’s no way out?” I completed the thought of the master.

  “Well there’s always a way out,” replied the gnome. “You could license the pendant’s patent to the head Jeweler of Malabar. All you have to do is settle the financial questions of how your patent may be used.”

  “I don’t want any payment,” I immediately assured the gnome, but he simply smiled:

  “But did I say anything about you receiving payment? To the contrary—you are the one who will have to pay. The Master of Jewelcrafting is a very busy gnome indeed. Surely you are aware that ever sinc
e the tremendous success of Tavia and Trediol’s wedding, the nobility of both Malabar and Kartoss have sought his services. You may license the patent to an Epic item only to him and him alone. And you need to somehow compensate his time, so we’ll have much to discuss indeed. Have you some preliminary offer in mind?”

  That damn Corporation! I was wondering how they’d profit from in-game telepathy. I figured that it would have something to do with the price of Diamonds, which would surely surge through the roof. As if! They’re trying to squeeze money out of me now! If you don’t feel like toiling for the players’ welfare, be so kind as to pay up! This begs the question: Why should I be the one to pay? If the players want a pendant so bad, why don’t they pay the Master?

  “I believe that a thousand gold for one set of pendants should be more than enough,” I began to barter. “The Free Citizens will surely be happy to compensate the Master of Jewelcrafting for his time…indeed.”

  “One thousand?” the gnome arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Most Honorable Earl, who do you think we are? A bunch of dilettantes? A thousand gold will merely remunerate the Master for the time he takes to consider creating a pendant. And even then not much of it. Three seconds or so. As for the Free Citizens paying for his work, I’m afraid I must disappoint you—we will accept gold only from you. The masters’ guild doesn’t wish to have any problems with Eluna.”

  “What problems?” I furrowed my brow.

  “Each pendant created in exchange for payment shall also cost 200 Reputation with the goddess and her Priests. So we wouldn’t think of working with the Free Citizens directly—only through you. Now, how the Free Citizens settle their accounts with you, isn’t our business. We will only be making the things. And our work needs to be remunerated. These are our terms.”