by Paul Kite
I don't believe you! ‘The dark elves aren't going to attack anyone,’ I don't believe a word he says! I did not say it out loud, of course, otherwise Zorkhan would surely change my life to a 'happy' one forevermore, at least until I got out of the game.
“Are you sure that Lsaeros has not confessed and laid out all he knows?” I decided to ask such a question, because if the Archmage's given away the secret, Zorkhan's plan would come to nothing.
“Of course!” Zorkhan said without a doubt. “Even though he was stripped of his power, no amount of torture or spells could draw a fraction of truth out of him. Our magicians are better in this regard! If he talks, he'll die right away. Besides, physical torture is useless, he won't feel any pain.”
“Okay, what do we do then?”
“As I’ve said, you appeared just in time. When I bought you and brought to Noar-Rahor, I was going to teach you our skills and abilities. But at first I was going to tell everything and give a free choice whether to participate in it or not. However, the sovereign of the guild needed me. And when I finally returned, I was very surprised to learn that you were not only a half-breed, but also an immortal. Hontar, my brother, did almost all my work —he put into you the basics, which allows you to become a disciple of the Guild of Shadows.”
A free choice with the collar Ansr-run? I doubt it.
“Is Hontar your brother?” I was surprised.
“Yes, but after your imaginary death, we have...” Zorkhan hesitated for a moment, as if picking up words, “let's say, a conflict arose and because of which, he left the Guild. You cannot worry about him, you should not be afraid of him.”
His words did not convince me at all. What conflict; why and how am I connected with it? If I have an opportunity, it’ll be worth finding out more about it. In the meantime, I will still fear Master Hontar.
“Well, now you know everything,” the Master of Shadows said, looking at me carefully. “I hope you won’t refuse and will help to free Lsaeros and penetrate the barrier of the Ilian ridge?” While saying it, the drow somehow imperceptibly took the key from my collar and began twisting it in his hands.
Such a direct and obvious hint that I must not refuse!
And, as if waiting for the dark elf’s words, there was a quiet chime of bells, and a translucent system message appeared before my eyes.
Available task: To open the passage through the magical barrier of the Ilian ridge, closing the Cursed Lands - part 1: to release Archmagician Lsaeros from the prison of Ardal monastery
Reward for performing the entire task chain: unknown
Refusal to the task: unknown. Reputation with the entire race of dark elves will drop to ‘Hate.’
Accept Refuse?
I really wanted to send them to hell and click ‘Refuse’, but I was not completely abnormal and completely crazy. I did not know what had happened to me in real life and when I would return back. I also had no idea how much time I had to spend in the virtual world of Noria. Plus, I wanted to live a normal life and not enjoy a brief moment of silence and peace in a series of deaths and torture. Of course, I agreed!
“I haven’t doubted you, Kraven” Zorkhan was happy, removing the key from Ansr-run back into one of his pockets and getting up from the step. “Let me officially, in the face of Vegor, accept you as a disciple of the Guild ‘Elghinn Dal Veldrin’!” The eyes of the God’s statue lit up brightly and immediately went out, confirming the Master of Shadows’ words. “Stand up,” the drow ordered, “and say it verbatim:“ I, Kraven, in the face of our Patron-god Vegor, swear an oath of allegiance to the Guild ‘Elghinn Dal Veldrin’ and ask Master Zorkhan to take me as a disciple. ”
I got up and slowly and thoughtfully repeated Zorkhan’s words. The statue came to life again, its head turned in my direction and a bright scarlet look, as fire, pierced through me. And again, there was no system reaction to the obvious presence of the drow God.
“Oath taken.” I heard a quiet but powerful whisper in my head.
“Of course, I will not take off your collar.” Zorkhan beckoned me to the exit from the temple. “But I’ll remove most restrictions of course. After training, when you leave the territory of Noar-Rahor, do not try to escape our service as it has a magic beacon, so I will always know where you are at any point in time.”
“Why training?” I asked, followed him mechanically, knowing it was a stupid question.
“I understand that you are immortal, but you should have brains,” Zorkhan, who was walking in front of me, shook his head in disappointment. “You're very weak now. And if you consider yourself a normal warrior after just a few victories in the arena, then you are deeply mistaken. You will have a long and professional training. My best student for the last millennium will teach you. Although, he is no longer a disciple, but an equal to me and is also a Master of Shadows,” the drow grinned.
I was right when I suspected that there was a whole network of underground passages under the territory of Noar-Rahor. There were catacombs with separate rooms, halls and others. An hour later, we finally came to the surface in one of the buildings.
“Come on, we will give you the best and most comfortable room,” the drow suggested. “Probably on the first floor, closer to mine. Dazrael will have one too, when he arrives. There is also one of the arenas nearby. It looks like he is delaying a little, one moment.” The elf took out a strange small black-and-red crystal in the form of a flat hexagon and froze for a moment. “It's just a means of communication,” Zorkhan explained, noticing my gaze. “I will also give you one and teach you how to use it.”
A familiar name—Dazrael, I think I’ve heard it before. Remember—he saved me in the house of the one-eyed Eran!
Master stopped near one of the doors and suggested that I examine the room, “My apartments is two doors down on the opposite side,” Zorkhan added.
The room was very different from the one I had been placed on the first day of my stay at the training center of the Guild of Shadows. No minimalism! A huge bed, a table, chairs and a wardrobe. Opening another door, I found... a bathroom! And something vaguely resembling a toilet. The bathroom is very good, and the toilet... a game character, unlike NPCs, do not need it.
“A dining room is also located nearby,” Zorkhan stood, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb. “If you're too lazy to walk, you can order any of the slaves to bring you food at any time, what you choose.”
“Are the other rooms the same?” I specified.
“Yes.”
“I'll live here then. Sir, I was wondering, is my training going to be long?”
“I hope not. As soon as Dazrael appears in the training center, you will begin immediately.”
“What should I do now?”
“If you want, you can participate in the training, Zoran mused. Choose either other disciples, or slaves. You can rest as well. But if Dazrael does not come today, I will have to do your training tomorrow. Today, alas, I have other things to do.”
“I will train with disciples!” I decided. What was the point of resting? The sooner I complete my mission, the sooner I'll be free.
“Then let's go to the arena. I’m going to give some orders to Hontar's former students. Remember! Everything you've learned today is strictly confidential, it must stay between us!” Zorkhan threatened me. “ It would be best if you kept your mouth shut. Understood?” “I will do as you ask Master.” I acknowledged with a bow.
The building I now lived in and the nearby arena turned out to be located on the opposite side of where Master Hontar used to train his students, however, he was a former Master now.
At the entrance to the arena, who would have thought, we stumbled upon Urosal. What's he doing here?
“Master,” the young drow bowed his head and looked at me in surprise and confusion.
“Fine,” Zorkhan said happily as if he foresaw this meeting. “Where are the rest of Hontar's students?”
“In their abode,” the drow replied without hesitation,
“I gathered them there as you ordered, and advised not to leave, expecting your further orders.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you, Master.”
“For what?”
“I do not deserve my life,” the drow suddenly fell to his knees. “I disobeyed Master's order, thereby, betrayed the oath given to him. I raised my sword against you Master.”
“You know the oath is good,” Zorkhan hauled the drow to his feet, “but Hontar is not a Master of the Guild now. So, you'll have to change your Master.”
The drow fell to his knees again.
“I am, Urosal, in the face of God-patron Vegor, vowing the Guild ‘Elghinn Dal Veldrin’ and asking Master Zorkhan to take me as a disciple. I am, Urosal, giving my blood, my life and my soul into Master Zorkhan's hands. I swear in the name of Vegor and Derolighler of Shadows!”
The last words, I think, were superfluous. However, despite these words, Zorkhan looked pleased and beamed with contentment like a cat. “I accept your oath, my disciple. Now get up. You know Kraben. He's also my disciple, he wished to engage in normal training. You will help him. Personally!” Master of Shadows said, noticing some kind of displeasure on the the young drow's face. “Don't mind the collar around his neck. And don't ask him questions as it's none of your business. And don't offer him training with slaves!” Master Zorkhan said, while looking Urosal in the eye.
“I see, Master,” Urosal bowed his head again. “May I carry out your instructions?”
“Yes, you may,” Zorkhan replied and turned to me. “You know where to find me, or you can ask someone, and if I need you, I'll send for you.”
Chapter 10
L ivion was in his house, on the edge of the Free Lands. He was sitting in the main hall near the fireplace, reading the records of five Shadow Guilds, with whom he had negotiated over the past three days. After receiving payment, they’d immediately begun to study all the information available to them. Finally, a messenger arrived with a small folder of documents.
Of course, Livion was looking for only those guilds where there were no players or those that had very few of them. Of course, just five organizations were merely the tip of the iceberg, but the rest were still silent. Some of the guilds had demanded a lot more money than what they’d been offered and tried to bargain. Others had wanted to get money and some rare magic items from the powerful mage-necromancer.
Livion angrily gritted his teeth, “Bastards!” He wished he could go through some populated areas and kill the most impudent among the heads of the guilds. He really wanted to remind them who exactly the cursed necromancers of an almost vanished race were, and what a ravan was capable of. The players wouldn’t really be scared, but the NPCs... However, Livion understood that it was better not to reveal himself. The prisoner's marker was still on him, and some members of the game’s clans remembered him. They weren't ordinary people either, not by a long chalk.
There is a lot of money in this game. Those who’d been smart enough had invested huge amounts of money into the virtual world on the day when access to the world of Noria was granted. They founded clans and were engaged in pumping, farming, and developing of professions. With time, they not only got back their investment, but also received a considerable profit and continue to profit from the game to this day. And when the prisoners, who’d been inveterate murderers, maniacs, thieves and other unsavory types that had deserved life sentences appeared in this world, some clans didn’t participate in the hunt, but tried to make at least some profit. And they were not mistaken. The prisoners got rare classes and races in the Collapse prison, as well as a number of specialties available only to them, so it was possible to make a lot of money and transfer all of it to reality.
But not all of the former Collapse prisoners with a special marker had wanted to work for ‘the big bosses’. To be honest, those kinds of prisoners weren’t too numerous. Few of them had wanted to exchange even such a strange likeness of freedom for a membership in a clan with fairly tough and dishonest conditions. They preferred to hide in uninhabited and empty places, spitting on the promised protection. However, the clan bosses had the option to force these people to work for them by using torture, because the prisoners felt one hundred percent of all sensations. But that was a blatant violation of one of the General game laws—it was strictly forbidden for players to force other players into anything, unless there was a mutual agreement in place— so you could always press the ‘Help’ button and the administration would interfere.
Some bosses, apparently, had managed to find a loophole and used the prisoners’ abilities at their discretion, without the approval of the prisoners themselves. There could be no other explanation for some of the former prisoners’ disappearances and the subsequent appearance of very rare and difficult to make potions, weapons, armor and other items. And the administration didn’t give detailed answers to requests for info on the strange disappearance of some of the prisoners, arguing that their bodies were in the virtual reality capsules, their characters were in the game, none of them had asked for help, so everything was fine. Someone, of course, tried to make a fuss, but it all subsided very quickly. And the prisoners huddled deeper into the cracks. No one had wanted to be the next to disappear.
Livion shrugged, chasing away those bad memories.
Four of the five reports didn’t have any interesting information in them. But one of them briefly mentioned the rather frequent appearances of one of the Masters of Shadows in the kingdom of Nazhar. Livion put that report aside and read the last one.
“Hm, well,” the ravan said thoughtfully. “Am I in luck?!”
The report referred to the death of someone called Gorick, that’d happened ten days ago. He’d been a well-known gangster in Saradan and had been killed in a fight with the noble Kraven, in the house of Eran the One-Eyed. His murderer was the elf Dazrael, Eran’s close acquaintance, who, for some unknown reason, had decided to intervene in what had been happening. At the time, Mr. Kraven hadn’t looked like a noble, but had been dressed as a tramp, perhaps hiding from someone. However, Livion wasn’t interested in this speculation about the man and his clothes.
Of course, it was bad that so much time had passed, but the main thing was that he now had some kind of clue. The first thread had been found, so now he didn’t have to miss the whole weave. The first thing he should do, probably, was to visit Eran’s house in Saradan and learn more about Gorick and his guys. And then he’d find Dazrael, because Livion knew very well who that one was—one of the ten Masters of Shadows of the dark elf Guild ‘Elghinn Dal Veldrin’. But more surprising than that - he was a light elf!
Yes, many years ago, Fate accidentally brought together Livion, hiding in the Free Lands from people who’d been hunting prisoners, and the strange light elf, named Dazrael. The story is long and rather interesting, but despite the NPCs’ fierce hatred of ravans, the elf hadn’t killed him, but helped him instead. The elf gave him money, weapons, clothing and food. Why? He didn’t know. The elf hadn’t answered any of Livion’s questions.
But how do I find a Master of Shadows, if he doesn’t want to be found? Livion didn’t know. Dazrael had always found the ravan before, wherever he was, sometimes even in time to save him from death.
He decided that he should visit Saradan. And, not wanting to postpone his trip, Livion rose from his chair and went to the most important part of his house—the third underground level. It was a private storage, protected by all manner of unthinkable spells, which even the most powerful game clans in Noria could envy.
Livion was looking for Kraven in the game, while Arthur promised he’d join the search later, as he was trying to get information from one of the players in real life. Arthur tried to act very carefully and precisely, he was nothing if not efficient. He, for some reason, wanted to learn Kraven's identity, despite the fact that Kiera had asserted that it was not known who Kraven was in the real world.
Livion had the feeling that Kiera was
withholding some facts. He noticed several inconsistencies in her story. But she’d paid a great amount of money for accurate and reliable information about his location, so the ravan had agreed to find this man and avoid asking any unnecessary questions.
* * *
Before we entered the arena, Urosal went to the Armory and picked up a couple of good sets of exactly the same armor for both of us. For some reason, he preferred a sword and dagger, and I was given the almost the same pair of swords as I’d gotten before, they only differed slightly in length and shape from the previous swords. The drow justified his choice by explaining that if I performed well in two-handed combat, we were going to focus on training with those very weapons.
When I put on the whole set and armed myself, I was pleased to see the following message:
Apparel: La-van-Veldrin, light armor of the Junior disciples of the Shadow Guilds (full set–55-items)
Quality: Good
Material: Morne's Leather
Defense: 40
Imposed permanent spells: +20 dexterity (when wearing the full set)
Imposed temporary spells: none (when the overlap is more than 1)
Level restrictions: none
Class restrictions: Shadow
Weapon: Toron-ar-Celer, light twin swords of the Junior disciples of the Shadow Guilds (full set-22 items)
Quality: Good
Material: Steel
Damage: 50-60 (Thoron), 40[D2]-50 (Celer)
Imposed permanent spells: +20 dexterity (when wearing the full set)
Imposed temporary spells: none (when the overlap is more than 1)
Level restrictions: none
Class restrictions: Shadow
This was great for my level 2 character. But there was one issue - my presence at the training center of the Guild of Shadows. There were special laws and rules in place in this area. It would be impossible to get such weapons and armor in the open world, and especially being the level I was. It was absolutely impossible!
