The Clan
Page 15
Warning! People of Light, to arms! In a month's time, the First Temple will lose its immunity. By that time, you will need to find and destroy the spawn of the Dark!
Warning! The Dark Ones, to arms! In a month's time, the First Temple will lose its immunity. By that time, you will need to unite as one man to protect the heart of your religion!
Quest completion alert: Knowledge Breeds Sadness IV. The First Temple Restoration. Quest completed!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 66!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 67!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 68!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 69!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 70!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 71!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 72!
10,000 points fame received!
Fame alert!
Your Fame has exceeded 11,000 points!
You have reached Fame level 4: Ballads are written about you.
Fame alert!
Your Fame has exceeded 17,000 points!
You have reached Fame level 5: Children are named after you.
Your relationship with the Dark Alliance has improved to: Friendship!
Your relationship with the Alliance of Light has deteriorated to: Hatred!
I had barely skimmed the messages and closed them, intending to reread them properly at my leisure, when yet another gong resounded in my ears.
Gong!
A unique position available: The First Priest of the Dark God.
Accept: Yes/No
Oh, great. Wasn't life just weird? Why did it like to break us, forcing us into the most uncomfortable positions? Me, a lone player, had to shoulder a clan. I had nothing to do with religion and now I was offered a unique priest's job. Should I decline? Then again, I couldn't predict the Fallen One and the Dragon's combined reactions to my act of social protest.
My internal interface cursor jumped from Yes to No and back, following my glance, and even pressed them a little without sinking them in properly, the way a gunman strokes the trigger squeezing it, then releasing it again, all the time keeping the bead on the target. Yes or No?
Chapter Eleven
I closed my eyelids to relieve the information overload. Then I got to thinking. A quick Wiki search had produced nothing: apparently, there could only be one First Priest whose post was currently occupied by a Light NPC. I hadn't found any further info on his rights and responsibilities, apart from the fact that he could appoint new priests, consecrate new temples to their respective patron gods, listen to an occasional plea and pass it on to the head of the Pantheon.
Now what would a high post like that have in store for me, then? Would it mean the forces of Light hunting down my precious hide? Having said that, sooner or later they were bound to find out the name of the person who'd restored the Temple. I had left quite a trail, starting from my unusual escort request and ending with Zena and her team who'd seen and heard their fair share and probably second-guessed a lot more. My relationship with the races of Light had apparently plummeted, too, reaching the levels of pure unadulterated hatred. I only had my mysterious quest reward, status: unknown, to thank for that. Actually, they should warn players about tricks like that. The only way back to the City of Light for me now was at the head of an army, ramming our way through the gates and razing the city walls to the ground. Considering that the ranks of my enemies and ill-wishers kept growing at a frightening speed, accepting the post sounded like a better alternative. For me, any gain of physical or political strength was the call of the day.
What else? Was the Fallen One going to burden me with nightly vigils, fasts and shaman dances around the altar? Why would he need to? He's a young god; he needed deeds and actions, not symbols and rituals. He could set you up with a quest or ask of you something you wouldn't be able to refuse. At least as far as gods went, he was all right. He wasn't a grabbing god, on the contrary: until now, he seemed to be the one who protected and nurtured us while he could have easily fixed us up with some vicious debuff you couldn't remove until you either prayed or paid your way out. No, AI 311 knew everything about motivation. I didn't think he was capable of any dirty tricks.
Now, the responsibilities overload could be a problem, sure. What was it Lena's mom had said? It was the retinue that made the king... Few kings were brilliant economists, generals or sociologists. They didn't need to be. As Comrade Stalin used to say, cadres are key. And for once he was right.
Responsibility, that's what scares us. All our lives we're trying to avoid it, wriggling our way out of school and college commitments, afraid of starting a family or business, unable to start a conversation with a girl or break an overeager bully's nose. Wasn't it time we stopped running?
Besides, the Fallen One had granted me one advance too many. And I had indeed promised him to help and restore the Pantheon. I gave my word to the Dragon, too. To quit now you had to be a thankless ingrate with no self-respect. Time to stand up for one's principles.
I opened my eyes, bit my lower lip and exhaled, pressing the button:
Yes.
Congratulations! You have been successfully promoted to a unique post: The First Priest.
Being the First Priest, you are entitled to additional skills granted to your position as well as those granted by the High God of your religion and from each of the Pantheon gods. Unlike the Fallen One's regular worshippers who are required to choose a particular patron god of the Dark, the First Priest has default access to all of the Pantheon's skills and blessings. The number of available skills depends on the First Priest's level which is always equal to that of the First Temple. Current level: 3.
New positional skills acquired:
Ordination. The First Priest has the authority to ordain any Dark worshipper. The maximum number of the world's priests cannot exceed the number of temples multiplied by 10. Current figures: 10/50
Excommunication. The First Priest has the authority to anathemize any Dark worshipper. Duration of excommunication: from 24 hrs. to eternity. Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Appeal to Gods. The First Priest has the authority to appeal directly to any of the Dark Gods who will always hear his plea even though he won't necessarily reply.
Outcast. The First Priest has the authority to proclaim any of AlterWorld inhabitants a Religious Outcast who will then become fair prey to all Dark worshippers, to the point where anyone who kills a Religious Outcast will receive a considerable amount of Faith points that are necessary for religious rank growth and choice of skills offered by their Patron God. The Mark of Outcast disappears after its bearer's death at the hands of a Dark follower. Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Blessing: a raid buff
Effect: +25 to all types of magic resistance, 10% to physical damage resistance
Duration: 12 hrs.
Ingredient: Spark of Dark Flame. Can be acquired by a lump sum donation of 5,000 gold to the Altar.
Congratulations! You've learned the spells:
Personal Portal to the First Temple
Cast time: 6 sec
Mana expenditure: 300
Group Portal to the First Temple
Cast time: 9 sec
Mana expenditure: 1100
Congratulations! You've learned the skills:
Patron God: the Fallen One
Shadow of the Fallen One. Allows you to conceal your name, religion and clan affiliation, temporarily changing your relationship with all races to neutral.
Duration: 1 hr.
Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Shield of Faith. Gives complete mana regeneration and 30-sec immunity to all types of damage.
Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Congratulations! The First Priest has taken his place by the Altar! 5,000 points Fame received!
Fame alert!
Your Fame has exceeded 23,000 points!
You have reached Fame level 6: Your name is written in the history of the world.
&nb
sp; Oh. I exchanged glances with my inner greedy pig as we reached out to feel each other's virtual biceps. That had been a generous downpour of freebies indeed. Even though not all of the skills gave you a permanent boost, my character's sociopolitical importance had grown manifold. I still couldn't clearly see all the prospects and potential scenarios for using these particular skills, but my gut feeling was telling me I had been dealt a handful of trumps, not of dribs and drabs.
I looked over at the altar. The cracks in the shimmering stone had resealed, the air around it humming with a powerful energy flow. It felt a bit like standing under an electric power cable of, say, five hundred kilowatt. You could almost see the surge of its physical power rush up to be swallowed by the grimy ceiling, then disappear into some unknown astral plane. Was it the Fallen One siphoning the channel, enjoying a quick mana high? I was going to close the tap on him in a moment. I had my own plans for that mana fountain, not to forget the greedy dragon demanding his share of the mana pie. I just hoped that I was the First Priest not in fancy name only; I had to be able to control the Temple when needs be.
I lay my hand on the altar, highlighting it and activating the interaction regime. It exploded with cascades of opening windows. That got me thinking. I'd just done what any regular player would have, highlighting an object, then right-clicking it. That was my old gaming reflex getting the better of me. Still, the Fallen One was my witness that I'd done so for the first time in the last week. The rest of the time my interactions with game objects hadn't differed from real-life ones: you pick it up—you study it—then use it, no interface crutches involved. Which meant that all the little buttons and menus kept integrating into my new reality, commonplace actions and skills replacing gaming elements.
I studied myself, looking for anything different from the default layout. Anything unusual, anything missing? Immediately I noticed the first thing out of place: the quick access menu. The ten little slots in the corner of the screen had disappeared—don't even ask me when or where to—and these days I instinctively reached for the tiny pockets on my belt without even looking, feeling for the right vial in the heat of the fight.
I counted them: eight. Well. Where were the remaining two, then? Let's try it.
I pulled a new vial out of the bag and tried to shove it down a non-existent pocket in my belt. My fingers touched the hard leather, pushing against the steel rivets, then finally felt the opening and shoved the vial into the little pocket. Nine! It worked!
I peered at the little loop suspiciously, then pulled the vial out expecting the opening to disintegrate. As if! Its bandolier-like dark eye kept staring at me, showing no intention of disappearing. Disappointed, I looked away and blinked, detecting a blurred motion out of the corner of my eye. I stared back at the belt. Eight. Funny that.
Now another test, even more important than the first. I pulled two more elixirs out of my bag and brought the amount of little pockets to ten. Then I relaxed, trying to concentrate on other things, and without looking shoved the eleventh elixir down my belt. Wasn't it great? Well done! Now that could give us a considerable advantage over regular players. That was something to consider and to look into—a new direction to take.
Further inspection had shown that the quick spell access slots had equally disappeared. Now I simply remembered the ten quick access spells without having to leaf through the magic book or transfer them to operative memory. The potential of this was much more serious than just an easy access to an extra vial. Increasing the number of available working spells could give the perma players a considerable advantage whenever they battled monsters or other chars. More spells meant more tactics; more chances to get an extra gram of experience or survive a close shave.
At the moment, it wasn't a good time to look into this mystery, so I left it until later. I had a funny feeling there was more to it than that. My hair was already standing on its end as I'd come too close to the altar—so close I was getting little shocks. A high-voltage transformer isn't a good place for thinking.
I concentrated on the opened interface windows. I'd have loved to rip the arms off the bastard who'd tested the interface's ergonomics and usability. It was as clear as mud. Actually, how sure was I that it had been tested at all? I was looking at the inner workings of the NPC admin panel. More than likely, both the post of the First Priest and access to the altar hadn't been meant for real players to begin with. Very well. There's always the good old method of trial and error. I just hoped the system was foolproof and wouldn't let me do anything stupid to this mind-blowing nuclear kettle. With any luck, I'd stay in one piece.
Naturally, I exercised the utmost caution. I didn't touch any settings, just studied the menus, my absolute memory soaking up their multiple branches. Once I checked all the options, I shook my head, trying to put the puzzle together and build a complete map of altar control. After that, it was time to proceed with caution and understanding.
Consecration to a junior god.
For your information: Every Dark Temple automatically boosts the Fallen One's strength. In addition, it can be consecrated to a junior patron god of your choice.
Pantheon alert! The Pantheon of the Fallen One is empty! You can't consecrate the Temple to an existing subgod. Would you like to summon a new god?
You bet! I pressed Confirm, triggering an enormous list sheet. Hundreds of names flickered before my eyes. I had to sort them all out into some kind of system. Why, for instance, would I need all those Indian ones, all those Agni, Brahma, Varuna, Vishnu et al? It wasn't as if I was on the Hindu's pay roll. I fiddled with the list until I finally managed to get rid of all the unwanted ones and arrive at the list of ancient Slavic gods. I also kept the Greek and Scandinavian ones: I had a soft spot for them for some reason. Both Aphrodite and Odin appealed to me more than Guan Di or Hanuman.
The triage resulted in about thirty ancient Slavic names: the likes of Perun, Belobog, Hors and Svarog. A quick prompt popped up when I highlighted the first of them, complete with a list of bonuses for the god's worshippers. That did it for me. Gods, let me tell you, are seriously cool. Take Perun, the god of thunder, patron of warriors. The skills he could shower onto his worshippers made me want to prostrate myself in awe.
Heavenly Thunder: a powerful discharge of electricity that deals the target 2,000 pt. damage. Cooldown: 12 hrs.
Chain Lightning: targets several creatures standing next to each other, starting with the chosen target. Every new target halves the damage: 1500, 750, 350, 200, 100. Cooldown: 12 hrs.
Sky Guard: allows to summon a warrior from Perun's numerous retinue. The summoned creature's level always equals that of the summoner. Spell duration has the minimum limit of 5 min. with no maximum. However, the number of the Thunderer's warriors is limited causing the summoned Guard to leave the summoner at any time in case of a shortage of available retinue warriors when somebody else is casting the same spell. Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Blessed Steel: a weapon buff adding +25% to magic fire damage.
Spell duration: 2 hrs.
Cooldown: 24 hrs.
There is an off chance of the buff never wearing out, leaving the weapon forever enchanted by the divine word.
And so on and so forth. The skill list was long: the god was trying a bit too hard to push the worshipper into earning Faith points, elevating him through the ranks and offering him the chance to choose yet another uber freebie. Wonder if it was the result of the god's already being forgotten once? Meaning that now the divinities would appreciate their earthly following, hurrying to get them out of trouble and showering them with skills.
It looked as if I was in it for the long haul. I lay my shield on the black sooty floor and sat cross-legged on top of it. Let's have a look!
The next dose of shock I received when I made my way down the list to Morana's name. The goddess of winter and the wife of Koschei—the Slavic god of death. The very first ability made me sit up:
Life Cycle: by using this skill, a player will gain one level
per second, including all respective racial and class bonuses. Upon reaching level 200, the character's life cycle comes to an end and he receives an XP penalty as he would have in the case of death at the hands of a mob. Cooldown: 24 hrs.
How very unusual. I wasn't even talking about its combat properties: they required quite a bit of combined thinking from me and my calculator. Still, the fact was that this particular ability was my long sought-after suicide button. Plus giving you a couple extra minutes to beat the hell out of your adversaries who wouldn't know what had hit them. As somebody who'd done my time suspended from a hook in the Cats' torture cellar, I knew the true potential of it.
Still, it was never a good idea to bet on a dark horse you'd never seen even though you might have heard that yes, it's a horse and yes, it might be able to run.
I queried the Internet service for everything they had available on Morana. I had barely made my way through half of her skills when they contacted me. Did they have an AI in their customer service or something?
I opened the file and started reading, my heart sinking with every sentence. I really, really didn't like her. Not a good deity at all. Very vicious. Her symbols: the Black Moon, a few skulls and a scythe that she used to cut the thread of life. Holy moly. How sure was I that summoning her wouldn't be a blunder to end all blunders? What if my name would be cursed for millennia for summoning the goddess of death into a deathless world? Laith the Traitor, the Immortality Thief. Did I like the moniker? Not really. Couldn't I find just one out of these hundreds of deities with similar skills and a nicer temper?