Keymaster

by Sergey Zaytsev

  Mashta and I got to the fortress in the dead of night and dead tired. I fell into a dreamless slumber and slept for five hours. I woke up rested, feeling like I didn’t need any more sleep. I was vigorous, fresh, and terribly hungry. I would have eaten just about anything how hungry I was. That little piece of jerky that Mashta had given me yesterday didn’t do much to tame my hunger. False modesty didn’t allow me to ask for more. It was a foolish thing to do as I had no clue when my next meal would be.

  I felt drawn to the pipe, thinking that it would somehow fool my hunger. I could still feel my connection with Alan the Dark but I wasn’t yet ready to let him influence my life. There wasn’t much joy around, even without him present. I had spent a lot of energy paying attention to the changes in the game’s interface and my abilities. However, when you climb a hill, all drenched in sweat, it’s easy to screw up something that cannot be corrected later. Therefore, I decided to postpone all of the difficult tasks till morning when I would be more rested and able to think clearly.

  Fury spent the night at the doorstep, faithfully guarding my peace and blocking the entrance with her own body as my “apartment” had no door. A trembling ray of light from the hall, where candles had been burning wastefully throughout the night, stretched across half the room. Raising her gray head, the Direcat looked at me. I felt her hunger; it was as strong as mine. We had to get some food quickly; else my domesticated predator forgets her good manners and start jumping at everyone, and everything that looked edible. Tinnie was sleeping on Fury’s back, neck deep in her fur and wrapped in her own wings instead of a blanket, thereby demonstrating that she could take care of herself on her own and that she didn’t to hide under my shirt to survive. Remembering how she had fared last night, I tossed an anxious glance at her HP bar and smiled with relief. We all felt much better after the warm and peaceful rest. Good thing that there hadn’t been any unwanted night visitors. Had any local decided to pay us a visit with ill intentions in mind all they would need to deal with Fury would be one or two blows. Damn, I need to level her ASAP...

  But that was not the point right now.

  A general wake-up call will take place in an hour. I should have enough time to think about what happened to me yesterday, and think of a general plan of action. But before that, it wouldn’t hurt to scroll through my memory logs and revise this world’s history, told to me very briefly on the way to here by Mashta. The story boiled down to the legend about Phoenix Shriek.

  So, in ancient times — a hundred years ago, or maybe two, nobody knows for sure — in the Diamond Crown valley there was a city-state of the same name, with a population of several tens of thousands of creatures. In this city, representatives of many races peacefully coexisted — the Rakshasa, practicing martial arts; the Dionyssites, whose talent was commerce; and the Kobi, artisans of all trades. There were other races, too, but no information about them remained due to their extinction after the tragic events that had taken place there. Until these events occurred, the city of Diamond Crown flourished thanks to rich deposits of gemstones that the mountains surrounding the valley were full of. Endless streams of trade caravans flowed through the mountain passes to neighboring countries and always returned with a good profit.

  And everything would have been fine had it not been for Phoenix Shriek, a great magician, whose hectic mind was constantly looking for ways to further improve the city’s already great prosperity. And find those ways he did. From time immemorial, the Diamond Crown library kept ancient knowledge of magical technologies; a knowledge forbidden and dangerous, as evidence from the past stated. So, Phoenix Shriek worked hard to find secure ways to apply this knowledge in a way that would benefit his city. And finally, the moment came when he decided to put this knowledge into practice, assuring himself that he had foreseen everything. After negotiations with the rulers of those interested in the economic prosperity of the lowland countries, Kandauri, Belistva and Madogost, magic portals were built in their capitals. The main portal, of course, was erected in the center of Diamond Crown.

  But, as the saying rightfully goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. For this story, this statement was of prophetic nature. After the launch of the magical network everything immediately went awry. It turned out that, due to an erroneous setup, the portals drained energy from neighboring realities in order to work. This leak attracted the attention of forces more powerful than Phoenix Shriek himself. Thus began the invasion of the Creepoars, a race of Chaos Demons, through whose veins flowed the flames of hell instead of blood. A battle like none before broke out. The terrible warriors of Chaos, whose flesh was almost immune to both steel and magic, flooded the world like an all-absorbing wave. All nations rushed to defend their world. The deadly threat made even the mortal enemies unite. Kandauri fell first, erased from the face of the earth. Then, just a few days later, Belistva and Madogost fell at the same time. Diamond Crown was unable to come to their aid; the warriors of the valley fought to the death, knowing that they were doomed. They had no chance against such conquerors.

  Even the deities of both worlds could not stay away. Their clash was so violent and destructive that they knocked each other into other astral planes, leaving their flock without patrons. Observing the death of his world and wanting to protect it from complete destruction even at the cost of his life, Phoenix Shriek decided to go all out and invoked the most powerful forbidden spell known to him — the Sphere of Styx. There was practically no time for preparations, everything was done in a hurry, and the end result was predictably tragic. Casting the spell, the mage forgot to evaluate his power, so he got overwhelmed and dissipated. Not yet completed, the ritual went astray and gave birth to two Styx Spheres instead of just one. The inner Sphere covered Diamond Crown and the adjacent territory, separating it from the invaders. The outer Sphere, the more powerful one, pulled the entire valley, the mountains and a part of the territory behind them from the general flow of time, creating an insurmountable barrier of broken reality.

  The consequences were fatal and the future civilizations would feel them for years to come.

  Since the battle took place during winter, and time froze, winter remained here forever; cold and snow destroyed all vegetation that couldn’t adapt to it. From the nations that once inhabited the valley, only a handful of survivors remained, quickly becoming barbarous and wild. Among other things, the reality under the Inner Sphere got separated into phases of Blood and Flame. During the day, the world belonged to the descendants of the Lunar Rainbow natives, but at night...

  At night, come the Flame Phase, the ruins of the former Diamond Crown were transformed and for many miles everything was lit up with fire. Ghostly palaces rose from the ground; frightening creatures emerged, woven from chaotic flaming energy, leading their own secret life. They were almost invulnerable, and for the Blood Phase dwellers; approaching them meant inevitable death. Only the ancient spell now prevented these creatures from launching a full-scale invasion of the world of Blood. But their very presence in the valley influenced everything they touched; the snow melted, yielding to the pressure of fire and heat, warming the air and the earth. This is what prevented what little remained of the former world of Lunar Rainbow from freezing over completely.

  From all the buildings of the former city-state, only three fortresses have survived. As a tribute to times past, they were renamed in honor of the countries that once guarded them. The Dionyssite Centaurs now lived in the fortress of Kandauri, the Rakshasa occupied Belistva, and newcomers from other worlds settled in Madogost, now called the Fortress of Outcasts. According to a local legend, the appearance of foreign outcasts was due to wormholes present in the Outer Sphere of Styx. It was through them that they got inside, unable to escape.

  The story made me feel as if I jumped over a fence to an off-limits construction site. The image stuck, gnawing at my brain.

  And now, for purely game moments.

  A state of armed neutrality was established in the valley, b
ut no group ever missed a chance to hunt another. Raids were constantly organized against dangerous monsters discovered by scouts. In turn, both scouts and raid members were hunted by other warring parties. The main goal was taking hold of the Soul Crystals. As Mashta assured me, a Soul Crystal didn’t bear any imprint of the personality from which it had been obtained. The one who captures an enemy Crystal gets the right to summon one of his fallen comrades, thereby increasing, or at least restoring, the number of their faction members.

  This Lunar Rainbow is a fun place all right.

  Now I understood why the Okhtans had their eyes on me. The Dalrokts, who ruled the fortress of Madogost by the right of the strongest, didn’t allow any score settling between its dwellers. But they couldn’t control what they couldn’t see. The Okhtans gave an order to take me to the Revival Point, which here was usually called The Cradle. A record about the new player appears in the Fortress service center after he or she makes a save. After that, no one would have prevented the Okhtans from “playing a bit” with the newcomer.

  The Lowling did, in fact, rescue me.

  Well, story time over. Time to take care of yourself.

  Activating the necessary interface windows, I went over my data.

  So, that’s who I am.

  Chapter 8

  Player name: Wisecracker

  Note: A one-time name change is available.

  So Ears, the Replicator’s caretaker in the sandbox, wasn’t lying when he mentioned this possibility. However, “Wisecracker”, though not the nickname of choice for the man I was in the past, wasn’t the worst the worst thing that one could be called. Also, I had a more important problem on my hands right now. My past…

  I didn’t notice how distracted I got from studying my stats. Not everything went smoothly in the past. I remembered something very important when I was in the portal that took me here.

  I’m Alexander Freesh; Alex for friends, often Alec in videogames. I don’t really like coming up with nicknames, as I like my own. I’m twenty-five. Or rather — I was. As the well-known cartoon character used to say: “A well-fed man in his prime.” I lived and worked in Volgograd, Russia, as a beta tester for gaming realities. To put it simply — I was a tester. In 2033, the gaming industry conquered the whole world and continued to spread its greedy, virtual tentacles to all areas of entertainment, giving rise to a steady demand for testers... There were plenty of offers to choose from. However, my earnings, although stable, were rather small. I was making money enough to pay for the gaming equipment and most of my basic needs — rent; subscription to an interactive movie theatre; a gym membership, I had to keep my body in good shape after so many hours spent “diving” into VR; and weekly grocery shopping at the local supermarket, MAN.

  And this is where my memories ended. Home, family... Supposedly I wasn’t married; I lived alone, renting a room, but I think that I had a girlfriend... What was her name? I couldn’t remember. Wait, no, I think that she was my sister... I couldn’t recall either names or faces, or where people to whom those faces belonged to lived. Two voids. For some reason, it didn’t bother me much. I would catch a glimpse of a memory here and there, but I couldn’t quite reach it.

  Friends... Of course there were friends. One doesn’t grow in a vacuum, and internet contacts should be aplenty nowadays... Everything felt hazy dull, and detached from reality. I think I now knew how elves must’ve felt, living for centuries; childhood was but a brief moment, in the distant past, nowhere nearly as important as present and future. Home, family, work… Everything was lost in this haze, provoking almost no emotional response. My mentor, Grant, had a theory that the memories were passed through filters imposed on the brain matrix: so that the rule-based RPG reality didn’t make your consciousness explode, The brain shouldn’t be focused on skills, behaviors and attitudes from one’s past life as player’s should worry less about their past and more about their present situation and survival. Therefore, there were no “mental anchors”, burdening the player with unnecessary memories and latent reactions, allowing fair judgment of the new. There were no old debts or duties. You had the whole game world at your disposal and you could rebuild your life anew.

  Grant died the final death at the hands of another player — Pops who “enjoyed” the process in its fullness. It sounds sarcastic, but it isn’t... I personally sent him into oblivion. But that couldn’t bring back Grant. I was angry and somewhat remorseful. As punishment for extracting revenge, I was sent here – to a distant location, amidst the cold and unsanitary conditions, surrounded by terrible poverty and disgusting faces of alien races that were so alien for my earth-dweller’s mentality that I doubted that I could find common ground with them. Well, at least I could communicate better with Lowlings, which were so reminiscent of Hobbits, invented by the writer Tolkien and visualized by that film director... How was it was his name... I forgot? Did Tolkien really invent them though? I don’t know. It’s not like it matters.

  This Universe ICS is very good at brainwashing. Why ICS, by the way? Was it an abbreviation? Like Interspace Competition Servers? Or something else? Never mind, I’m getting distracted. I had a brief conversation with Pops about why we were here right before I plunged a dagger into his chest. He believed that our memories were being suppressed and that the past “us” didn’t exist anymore. Therefore, he believed that any action was justified for the sake of survival. I gave him the taste of his own medicine. The system marked me the villain, as it wasn’t my place to decide his fate. Mr. Esco, the location curator, sent me into the Inferno, a portal that sent you to a random location.

  I had been deprived of personal memories and was unjustly punished. All of this caused... Irritation? Bitterness? Anger? These feelings were but a weak flame smoldering in my soul; but the more events occurred, brighter the light of protest shone, threatening to grow into a flame of anger. I kept wondering why I found myself here, in UICS. I had a suspicion, which only angered me even more, that that I wouldn’t be able to change anything even once I get an answer to that. At least not while I remain here, in this closed location. I had to escape by any means necessary.

  I shook my head. Being angry and unable to vent was a waste of nerves. I should get down to business. That is, to the stats.

  Level: 10

  XP: 1667/38440

  Note: The amount of XP required to reach the next level has been lowered to 1.2 rate (from level 10 to 30).

  Note: Fortune Hunters clan’s (Level 1) buff, Aura of Maturity, grants you 5% more combat XP.

  Relatively good news twice in a row. First, I was still in our clan. I would need to think about how to use that to my advantage. Secondly, the XP rate in the sandbox would increase by 1.5 each level; here it was only 1.2. Was this a partial compensation for difficult survival conditions?

  Race: human

  Note: You can change your race once.

  Change it into what exactly? Should I become one of the Lowlings? Or one of those narrow-faced, hairless Okhtans? Or perhaps an ugly-ass Dalrokt? What was the point? Just thinking about having a terrible gray muzzle and lizard skin made me shudder. Shoo, shoo, you dumb thoughts. I better stay myself… Until I figure out everything at least.

  Class: Free

  I had no idea what this “free game class” thing was. I had no time to find it out either. There was no mention about possible change of class. Maybe that was because I was in a closed location. Oddly enough, my specialization remained the same — Elemental Warrior. Its description was the same as well. My stats seemed fine too.

  HP: 520

  Energy: 370

  Strength: 29

  Dexterity: 29

  Intelligence: 19

  Wisdom: 19

  Endurance: 34

  Wait. Something is not right here. I was surprised to see that mana had disappeared from the list. Wisdom was now being used for everything, from battle to regenerating. Accordingly, energy was no longer linked with endurance. With mana gone, I only had my HP and physi
cal defense left. I couldn’t yet be sure whether this was good or bad — only practice would show what was what. However, now I would have to take care of wisdom. I couldn’t leave it to passively level on its own anymore.

  But then, to my amazement, I saw two stats.

  Charisma: 4

  Cunning: 3

  Surprisingly enough, the system, which was usually extremely stingy when it came to background information, was kind enough to clarify what was what.

  Charisma is a complex characteristic that determines the character’s leadership qualities; their attractiveness, and their ability to convince others to do their bidding and find a common language with other races and peoples.

  Cunning is a complex characteristic that includes intuition, attention to detail, as well as the ability to draw conclusions from incomplete information and put the gained knowledge into practice. Increases basic and additional stat growth rate, critical strike chance in battle, chance of finding caches and traps, and affects profession development.

  Note: Stat points are awarded for each 10th level. Five of them are automatically distributed between strength, dexterity, intelligence, wisdom and endurance. Charisma and cunning depend on character’s actions and cannot be leveled by using stat points.