by Paul Kite
“What took you so long, Kinrav?” We had just come up to the small house when the door opened, and an old, but still strong ... dwarf came out onto the threshold.
He was definitely not Aksey. I looked at him in surprise.
“Well, I… Hic.”
“What ‘I’?” The dwarf gave a questioning glance, first to the man, then to me, as if waiting for an answer from either of us.
“Well…” The man thought, “He’s come for Aksey, hic. Profya sent him, she’s looking for him, hic.”
“Yeah?” The dwarf said. “Ah-ha! Of course, we’ve already been celebrating my Birthday for two days now,” he laughed. “We’ve drunk so much that we haven’t noticed how much time has flown by.”
“Ha-ha,” Kinrav tried to laugh too, but couldn’t manage it.
“All right, come in!” The dwarf stepped aside, letting us in. “Aksey is there, in the left room,” he told me. “Just don’t wake him up, let him sleep a little more.”
So, what now? Does he believe that I was sent by Profya? Or has he just decided to trust the first passerby? That drunkard, Kinrav, with so much alcohol in his blood, hasn’t really considered it, his thoughts surely get confused. But why has this dwarf, who, to my surprise, looks absolutely sober, let a complete stranger into his house? It’s so odd.
“What? Thinking about why I believe you?” A voice came from behind me when I entered the room where a tall, lean old man was snoring serenely on the sofa. It was Aksey, Profya’s husband.
“Yeah,” I said without turning around.
“Well, it's obvious at first sight that you're not a thief,” the dwarf came closer to me. “Not a bandit or a murderer, either. Believe me, I used to send many of them to the gallows and the executioner, I can recognize them easily!”
“And? Anything can happen in life,” I didn’t want to provoke him, I was just curious.
“The dagger and scabbard on your belt. I,” the dwarf emphasized, “personally awarded them to Aksey. And, of course, Profya gave them to you. I’m sure she told you to show them to him when you meet him,” he nodded at the old man, “thereby proving that you came from her. Such things, you know, can’t be easily given to a stranger. Oh,” the dwarf sighed deeply, “how long ago that all was. Probably forty years have passed by now.”
I would’ve gladly listened to his story, but, honestly, I didn’t want to!
"Well, I see you’re in hurry," he seemed to read my thoughts. "Then leave for a bit, wait there. I'll wake this stubborn serviceman myself. And, it's true, it’s really time to stop worrying Profya.”
I left the room. In the corridor, Kinrav beckoned me, peeking out from the next door.
“He’s a strict colonel, hic, isn’t he?"
The dwarf is a Colonel of the Nazhar Army? Wow. It would’ve been worth it to listen to his story. Damn.
“Yes. Strict,” I agreed.
“You know, hic, he's older than all of us. Much older,” Kinrav said sadly, but also seemed a little envious. “Vinter is the only dwarf, hic, in the army who has risen to such a rank!”
“Wow!’ I exclaimed admiringly.
Lucky me! Such casual acquaintances. And this drunken man seems to be under the dwarf’s authority, just like Aksey.
“Oh, hic, what a time it was," Kinrav began. “I remember…”
“Kinrav!” The dwarf’s stern voice interrupted his story. “You’ll continue next time. I think we'll be seeing each other again,” he clapped me on the shoulder. “And now I'm going to see Aksey and our guest off.”
Profya's husband was waiting for us at the entrance of the house. And, judging by his distracted and confused look, I understood that Vinter had already explained everything to him.
“Is my old wife angry?” He asked me desperately when we turned toward his street.
"She's not angry," I sighed. "Your wife is worried."
When we approached the house, the old woman was working in the garden. Maybe she’s trying to distract herself from sad thoughts this way.
“Ah! Thank goodness!” She exclaimed, when, hearing the approaching steps, she lifted her head and saw us.
Aksey somehow imperceptibly shifted behind my back. Whether he was afraid of his wife or he was ashamed, I couldn’t tell.
“Alive!” the gate opened and Profya rushed out to hug the old man. “I thought... I would never see you again... You've been out for two days!” her eyes became moist and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Bastard!” suddenly, she slapped her husband. “Bastard!” followed by a second slap.
I cautiously retreated to the side. I didn't want to get involved in this family squabble.
“You're so stupid!” Profya hugged him again and led him into the house.
I was in no hurry to follow them. I was waiting to be called.
“Kraven!” Profya shouted turning to me. “Go into the living room, there’s tea and your favorite pies there. I had a feeling you'd be back soon, and not alone!”
“Okay, thanks!”
I drank some tea and ate about five pies. They were delicious! I tried not to pay attention to the noise coming from the next room, the one where Profya and Aksey now were. She scolded him, then rejoiced that he was alive and healthy. He swore to stop drinking and confessed his eternal love for her…
Thirty minutes later, they both walked into the living room. Aksey seemed to be unharmed and Profya was very happy.
“Thank you, Kraven!” the old lady said, “What can I reward you with?”
“You've already dressed, armed and fed me!” I smiled pleasantly.
“No,” the woman shrugged it off. “Aksey, what do you think…” she said to her husband, “Will the bag that your old friend, the magician, once gave to you, be a worthy gift for Kraven?”
Seeing the wide-eyed expression of the old man, I realized that this thing wasn’t cheap.
A bag? Perhaps Profya was talking about the inventory. There is such a thing in the World of Noria. The simplest one is worth about one hundred iren. It’s purchased in order to store the things you own, without having to carry them in your hands, on your belt or in your pockets. One thing fits into one cell. The number of cells depends on the cost of the bag. When they first use it, players are encouraged to bind it to themselves (magic, you know!), and then it becomes visible and available only to the person who wears it. But they do have one drawback–these bags, as well as other things, have a chance (albeit a very small one) to be lost upon death, which risks the loss of everything that was in the bag, as well. But it can’t be removed or stolen. It can only be lost after a player's demise.
“Bring it here!” Profya ordered her husband with a gesture. “And put money in it, I know you have some. Otherwise, you'll just spend it on drinking with your buddies. The money will come in handy to the young man!”
Aksey came back quickly. He handed me a leather bag, a deep sadness in his eyes, and sat down at the table, staring at the pies there. The man was very hungry.
Ring-ring
I heard the alert.
Task: to help Profya, part 1: find the tracks of or those who have seen Aksey–done
Task: to help Proflya, part 2: Aksey's return home-done
Reward: the old clothes of a soldier from the Kingdom of Nazhar’s army, officer Aksey's personal, premium dagger, a 30 slot bag, 183 irens
Reputation with the NPC Aksey is increased to Respect
Not bad! I'll activate the bag later.
However, I don’t recall a notification about the second part of the task. Maybe I just missed it, it happens sometimes. I should take a look at the features, maybe something’s improved.
“Will you stay with us for a while?” Profya asked me.
“Of course!” I agreed.
We stayed up late. It was getting dark outside, the lights were on, and I decided it was time to go to one-eyed Eran's house. After saying goodbye to the good-natured old couple, I left their house and went to the quarters of the poor and beggars
. There were problems with the lighting, but I could determine my position on the map. Since my route was traced for me, I wasn't going to get lost.
I left the shopping district, and it was immediately dark and quiet outside. And soon, it felt like I was being watched from every angle. There wasn’t even anyone on the street! However, this always happened in these kinds of places-at nightfall, ordinary people tried not to go out if they could avoid it.
I got off the main road and started sneaking along the walls. However, this made it more difficult for me to navigate.
So, should I turn right? I asked myself, stopping by the passage between the houses. Or should I have turned earlier?
I got lost. I shouldn't have relied on my memory. If I'd just turned right a little earlier, I'd almost be home by now. I had to go back.
“Is it him?” I heard a quiet whisper coming from somewhere to the left (from the broken window?).
“Yeah! I think he's wearing different clothes,” there came an equally quiet answer, “Come on!”
Whoosh-whoosh. A sharp, short whistle sounded suddenly, and then something big and heavy hit me in the back of the neck.
Everything swam before my eyes, the sky and the earth changed places; there was ringing in my ears and I fell.
The system immediately reacted with the expected message.
Physical damage of 30 points received. Life 10 40
Stunned for 5 seconds
Thanks for the oh so helpful notification! Still, why is it such a long stun?
“Quickly! Tie him up,” the voice that had mentioned the clothes demanded, and then I heard the sound of footsteps on both sides of me. “Don’t forget about the potion!” He shouted.
Apparently, this man was the one in charge, since he was giving the orders.
“I remember, I need to make him drink it immediately,” it was a new, third voice.
My hands and feet were tied, and I was searched. They took the dagger, the sling, and the bag that Aksey had given me (I should’ve bound it to me immediately after leaving the house, then they wouldn’t have taken it away). Then they opened my mouth with a knife and poured in some nasty, bitter muck from a small vial. I tried to spit it out, but someone's rough fingers immediately clamped down on my nose painfully hard, and I had to take a couple of sips.
You have been affected by the potion of complete immobilization and silence, the duration is 30 minutes.
Attention, if the potion was used against your will by the players or NPCs, then, for the time of its duration, you can exit the game. After that, you can seek help from the administration or do so right now. The function is available in the "Help" tab of the game interface.
Cool! I am in a trap. I haven’t got the ‘Exit” or ‘Help’ function or even such a trifle as the “Forum”. I am disastrously unlucky! I wonder who the beast is that sent them at me?
It’s certainly not Grandpa. Eran One-eyed? Perhaps, he doesn’t like me because I’m noble. He could’ve told somebody. But why was I allowed to stay in his house for a few more days? Wouldn’t it have been easier, instead of going through all this trouble, to just get me when I was still at his place, or when I had just left it?
And while I was thinking, I was dragged somewhere and unceremoniously thrown to the floor.
“Call Naivil,” the chief bandit rudely ordered someone.
I heard quick, retreating steps, along with cursing. The subordinate wasn’t happy with such treatment.
Naivil appeared five minutes later.
“Yes, Krazh, you’re right,” the man said. “Noble Gorick was killed because of him!” I got kicked in the side. I didn’t see the speaker, but the voice sounded very familiar to me.
“So, bastard,” now, as he leaned over me, I recognized him, "we've got something interesting for you. You won’t simply die,” the bandit spat.
It was the man who’d wanted to kill me in Eran’s house, but hadn’t managed to do it. The main fighter was killed and this one got wounded. And the third member of that gang, I supposed, was also somewhere nearby.
“When does the ship arrive?” Naivil asked his accomplices.
"After midnight, and it leaves at dawn," Krazh replied.
“Won’t the dark elves interfere?”
“No! I sent my man to the drow this morning. A boat will be waiting for us on the shore.”
“Don’t forget to give him more of that before you leave,” Naivil advised. “I don’t want even a squeak to be heard from the cart of manure when you take it through the gate.”
“Shut it,” Krazh said, “we aren’t fools.”
Naivil shrugged and said, “Then hurry up, the river is far enough. And let somebody treat him or he’ll die. I know Drivola’s strength–he can easily kill with his club. He has muscles to spare.
Twenty minutes later, one of the bandits leaned over me, (I tried to resist, but in vain) opened my mouth and poured one potion in, which was surprisingly pleasant to the taste. This immediately restored all of my life, and then the second one applied the same debuff again.
I mentally added faces and names to the list of my future victims. I’ve remembered all of you! I'll kill you! Cursed NPCs! Of course, it looked like I was going mad - wanting revenge on NPCs, but still.
I wonder who they’re taking me to? What have they thought up that is worse than death in their eyes?
And why the hell am I so unlucky!? It would’ve been better if they’d killed me right away. I’d have resurrected at the nearest rebirth point. Of course, after death, my body would have disappeared, leaving behind only a bag with my things, as per the game’s system, and they would’ve immediately understood who I was. I’m sure they’d have been glad, at first, before I made them regret it.
My unmoving body was picked up by two bandits and dragged outside. I was moved from a one-story wooden building to a small, dirty yard, surrounded by a high fence that didn’t have even a single crack. Near the building, there was a large, long barn, or, judging by the neighs coming from inside, it was a stable. A horse, hitched to the cart, was led through the open gate.
“Let’s ship it!” The bandits began to swing me near one of the sides.
Oh, this cart stunk to high hell!
“One! Two! Three!” On the count of three, my body flew a little into the air and landed on something soft, nasty, slimy and also terribly smelly-but I seem to be repeating myself.
“Throw some manure and bags on top of him, but make sure that he doesn’t choke,” Krazh sternly ordered, “If the noble dies, Naivil will skin you alive. And I'll help him!”
Swearing, the bandits hastily complied with the order of the chief. Then someone jumped on the cart and cracked the reins. The horse slowly got moving.
Then came the cursing again-those scumbags, as they were called by Krazh, had not yet opened the gate.
I could only listen and watch. According to the duration of the potion, they had a little less than half an hour to get me out of the town, unless they would stop somewhere on the road and use it on me again. Will it be possible to escape, or at least somehow alert someone if they miscalculate the time? I didn’t know. As Krazh had said “It’s not the first time”, which meant he had everything under control.
I soon got tired of looking at the fabric of one of the bags lying on the top of me, so I closed my eyes completely, focusing on just hearing. Names and nicknames, tone and timbre of voices, the words said casually and carrying at least a piece of information about all these people or places where they live stuck in my memory. I wouldn't be me if I didn't come back and deal with them all. For me, this world was as alive as the real one. And the AI was no longer just a set of ones and zeroes. This was a full-fledged mind, almost equal to a person in everything except rights. It had a personality and was self-aware, but at the same time was just a thing to a user, company, or a state. It was slavery with a clearly marked limit.
The horse was suddenly stopped.
Approximately five minutes remained un
til the end of the potion’ effects. What were they going to do? It wasn’t like we had arrived at our destination, that would’ve been too fast. Although, it was difficult to determine the speed and bumps of the road while lying in such a soft cocoon of manure and sacks.
“Hello, officer! We're taking out the waste again. Will you let us pass?”
Well, the thug knows how to talk in a flattering and kind voice.
“Isn't it too late for that?” the guard replied sternly.
The faint sound of coins was heard.
“This is our job, I'm sorry. The master gives orders, we obey them.”
“Okay, okay. Go!” The officer ordered to open the city gates.
Krazh had a lucrative business. He had connections with the guard. Did this officer know what, or rather whom, they export from the city in the manure? Or was he just paid for his silence and the lack of interference in the form of a mandatory inspection of all things going in and out through the gate?
“Good night, officer!” the coachman said, and the horse moved on again, dragging the cart behind it.
The effect of the potion was over and, judging by the singing of night birds, we were out of the town. Right on time! I'd have tried to make noise at the gate. Maybe the guard would have suspected something was wrong. Although ... who knew.
I was tied up tight, so I couldn't move. But I could speak! And I immediately made this clear.
“Shut up, or you will be disabled for half an hour more,” the bandit murmured menacingly.
I decided to shut up because there was no point in angering them.
“Where am I even being brought?” about ten minutes later I couldn’t resist and asked the driver.
“You'll know!” he rudely responded.
We spent the rest of the time on the road in silence. The bandit just whistled some melody.
“Whoa! We've arrived!” the driver shouted.
“Everything go well?” that was Krazh's voice.
“Sure, boss!” the bandit replied happily. “I didn't even have to use the potion a third time. This noble turned out to be clever. He only screamed once after we left the town. But there wasn’t a single soul around! The road was abandoned and empty as always. And then I threatened him, and he didn't squeak anymore.”
