How I missed the pair is anyone’s guess. Apparently, I wasn’t on guard. There wasn’t a forest anywhere near, and any two-legged creatures should have been visible from a long ways off, even if they were lying down. Still, I missed them.
“Well, well, well. Wait just a second—what have we here?” I heard someone’s voice and turned to find myself a dozen paces away from two players picking themselves up off the green grass. And they weren’t just players, judging by their blood-red names, they were PKers.
“Jump! Anything in your pockets that might clink together? Jump, I said!” the taller of the two said.
I had no intention of jumping, and instead stood there weighing my chances. They didn’t look good, to say the least. Both of the bandits were well past Level 50, they were well-armed, and they all had excellent-looking equipment. Plus, they were both wearing what appeared to be very heavy armor.
“Why are we being so quiet? Too proud to answer?” asked the second as he started circling around me.
They were obviously having fun pretending to be gopniks,[11] the one difference being that real gopniks don’t kill you once they’ve emptied your pockets. At least, unnecessarily. There, my end looked inevitable. Unless…
I interrupted that thought by turning tail and running. That was the only way I thought I had a chance.
“Oh, come on!” I heard from behind me. Either they weren’t programmed to run or everyone before me had preferred to die honorably in battle.
My philosophy is still the same—being proud and brave is great, but staying alive is better. And so, I ran, listening to the rumbling and swearing coming from behind me. The PKer gopniks had thrown aside their sunflower seeds (Gopniks are always eating sunflower seeds!) and were running after me, cursing as they did.
“Come on, be a man!” they yelled. “We’re all grown-ups here, what’s the point in running?”
“So, don’t run!” I shouted my advice back to them without turning my head, focusing solely on not tripping.
“What do you mean, don’t run?” the voices behind me continued. “How will we kill you? And rob you? You think we were just sitting here for the fun of it?”
“Then, I guess you’ll have to run.” With that, I decided the conversation was over. I needed to save my strength and avoid running out of breath.
We ran evenly. I couldn’t get away from them, and they couldn’t catch me.
Maybe twenty minutes later, just when I was starting to feel my stamina give out on me, my pursuers gave up.
“Ah, screw him, Red,” wheezed one of them, though I wasn’t sure which. “Let him run—he probably doesn’t even have anything on him.”
“You’re right, Mug,” the second said, equally out of breath. “Level 33, probably some deadbeat.”
There was a crash behind me that sounded like a bunch of metal collapsing on the ground. I turned to see my two chasers sitting on the ground.
“Run, Forrest, run,” they told me at the same time. “Or we’ll get up and come chase you again. No sense waking a sleeping giant.”
They didn’t need to ask me twice. I redoubled my efforts and sprinted off even faster. Who knew what they might have up their sleeves?
Thanks to the two out-of-breath killers, I got to Montrig about an hour earlier than planned. Tired and dirty, I found the headstone, did what I needed to do, and collapsed next to it in triumph.
I was once again faced with a choice. Montrig was where I needed to make a decision: go the short but very dangerous way or do the smart thing and take the longer and safer road.
Foim Plateau promised a serious risk, but I could cross it on a direct route to Gruskat Valley. From there, I’d be a stone’s throw from the red spot on my map that was hiding Ogina the East.
Heading along the Great River didn’t involve excessive risk, and I was already used to the garden variety. I’d get to see Selgar, too. They say it’s a pretty nice place.
Something dinged, telling me that I got a message. I checked and saw that something was waiting for me in the mailbox. Could the Gray Witch have already decided what goodies she was going to bestow upon me?
A few minutes later, I found that there weren’t any goodies. With that said, I couldn’t complain. It was my share from the assault, and it amounted to 18,000 gold—not a bad sum. I was still let down by the fact that it wasn’t the present I was expecting though.
I ran errands for the next hour. Montrig turned out to be a pretty big town as compared to all the other villages along the Great River. Besides the standard selection, it also had a small market, a blacksmith, and, for some reason, a library. I wasn’t sure who would go there or why.
The market was best saved for later, as I needed to find the quest starter for the old temple Elina told me about.
Instead, I headed to the blacksmith, a visit that ended up costing me quite a bit. Even with the discounts and two items I could have fixed at the expense of the clan, I still had to shell out more than two hundred gold. I comforted myself with the knowledge that it was a necessary and smart expense.
Next, I went to the hotel and unloaded my extra cash.
And finally, my fixed equipment, my patched and almost empty pockets, and I went to see what we could see in the Montrig market.
It was surprisingly noisy for its small size. There were mostly NPC vendors trading little things: low-level armor, some kinds of herbs and potions. There was even a currency exchange booth, though I had no idea what currency there was to exchange—all of Fayroll used the same gold currency. Maybe, it was some kind of tribute to the East? Maybe money changers are part of their culture there. I also saw a cartographer’s stall there for the first time and figured it was where I could find the kind of map I’d seen Reineke Lis use. Right underneath the “Maps” sign, however, was another one that read “Expensive.” I kept walking. The money was back at the hotel, but I decided I could do without a map. That wasn’t the time to splurge. By that time, I’d seen just about all the different stands, and none of the traders had offered me the quest starter…
“Swords from the North! Welded steel made from three melted rods!”
“Boots, boots! Leather! Easy to put on, easy to take off! Made from wyvern skin!”
“All kinds of jewelry, all stunningly gorgeous! Wear it yourself, give it to your girlfriend! Or your boyfriend if you’re that kind of person…”
“Great rakes, excellent tines! Rake one way, rake the other! All made the old way. My father and his father before him were plowmen and villagers!” (Seriously? Who needed a rake?)
“Fish—fresh, still wriggling! Fish here!”
“Selgar fruit, rare, no? Called a ‘peach’! Here!”
I stopped. Sweet mother, what were they doing there?
I looked at the trader. He was wearing an enormous hat and a short, red-leather jacket. His eyes looked back at me from above fresh morning stubble and a huge nose.
“What?” I stared at him in surprise.
“Yup,” agreed the trader, who spoke with an accent that came straight from the streets of Moscow. “Peaches here. Fresh. Sweet as a girl’s kiss. You look like a great guy, so I’ll give you a good deal!”
“Wow,” I answered. “You’re here, too.”
“Where should I be?” He shrugged. “My dad traded, his dad traded, and they were respected. Now, I trade.”
“Well, sure,” I said with a nod. “What else would you do? How much for the peaches?”
“Three gold for a bunch.”
“Right, and I’ll bet there are three of them in a bunch.”
“Oh, so you know everything, smart guy?”
“Why so expensive?”
“Ah!” The trader’s index finger shot skyward. “What did you think? You have to till the land, water them, put shi—… Ah, sorry, my dear. Manure. You thought it was all simple?”
I realized the only way to cut the conversation short was to buy some peaches and get out of there, so that’s exactly what I did, patting
myself on the back for my foresight. As soon as the peaches were taken care of, he pulled out a bottle of something “as homemade as a child’s tears.” I didn't stop to see what it was.
It turned out that the large-nosed character was in one of the last rows. I caught the glance of an old dwarf as I munched on my peach, and I noticed that he had all kinds of odds and ends laid out in front of him. There were mechanisms, scrolls, crystals, and everything else you could think of.
“That’s got to be him,” said my intuition. “Here we go!”
I walked over.
“Good afternoon, my venerable friend,” I said with a bow. “How’s business?”
“And a good afternoon to you, too,” the dwarf answered. “Not so good, to be honest.”
“Your goods are a bit unusual. Hey, want a peach?”
“Sure.” He nodded and accepted the fruit I offered. “But my goods…well, they’re what I have. Though, to be honest, I’m not really here to sell things.”
“Well, that’s different,” I said with complete surprise. “Why are you here then?”
“To buy,” said the dwarf, biting into the peach. “Adventurers always stop by the market, and often they’re selling as well as buying. You can get all kinds of different curiosities from different countries and regions. I like to collect them, so I come here every day.”
“Interesting. But why don’t you put up a sign or something? ‘Will pay for curiosities,’ for example.”
“I had one.” He threw away the pit and wiped his hands on his beard. “But you should have seen the junk people tried to pawn off on me! It wasn’t even the visitors—for everything I wanted, there were nine things I didn’t. Even the locals were coming by. Anyway, I took down the sign. Do you have anything interesting you’d like to sell?”
“No,” I answered. “I haven’t seen anything like that lately. I’ve heard there’s a whole storehouse of them nearby though. An abandoned temple. Is that true?”
The dwarf’s face turned serious.
“Who told you that?”
“Oh, just some people in Mettan. I overheard them accidentally.”
“Well, it’s true,” the dwarf informed me after looking around. “Though it’s a tricky spot.”
“If it were simple, it wouldn’t be interesting.” I laughed.
“You don’t happen to want to find it, do you?” The dwarf smiled slyly.
“That depends on what’s in it for me.”
“For us…” He stroked his beard. “We can figure something out.”
You have a new quest offer: Find the Abandoned Temple
Task: Figure out where the abandoned temple is located.
Reward:
400 experience
200 gold
Completing this quest unlocks the Temple Secrets quest.
Accept?
I thought for a second. It sounded like there was a whole string of quests that would have me wandering around the whole local area for a couple days. And I might not even get anything that valuable.
On the other hand, I needed a little variety in my gaming life. I’d spent the last few days either on long journeys or in the middle of terrifying action. Also, the temple was abandoned, which meant it wasn’t new. The Departed Gods were something else on my mind, so maybe I’d find something there about them? Temples are usually dedicated to someone. Who might this one be dedicated to?
“Mr. Dwarf…”
“Trayn, at your service.” The dwarf rose and gave me a half-bow.
“Hagen, at yours.” I answered in kind. “So anyway, do you know anything about the temple? Whose is it, or who was it dedicated to?”
The dwarf hesitated, which told me all I needed to know. I pressed Accept.
Trayn smiled.
“The temple is ancient. It was built in honor of one of the Old or Departed Gods, as they’re called now. But which one…that knowledge has been lost with the passing of time. Many people don’t even remember that gods like that existed.”
“Some remember,” I noted evasively. “The vilas, for example.”
“You’re right. Some of the races the Old Gods gave life to remember their creators, of course. Do you know the vilas, by any chance?”
“Well, yes,” I answered unwillingly. I could guess what the dwarf’s reaction would be. “I’m engaged to one of them.”
“You idiot.” He shook his head. “Although, whatever, to each his own. Anyway, not much information is left about the Old Gods. But we still have their temples. They’re almost always hiding from view, but you can find them. Most importantly, they always hold all kinds of interesting things. Information, too. It’s just that they can be tricky.”
“I’m sure. It would be strange if they weren’t. So, where can I go figure out where this one is?”
“If only I knew,” said the dwarf. “Although, I imagine you could only find something like that in true storehouses of knowledge.”
“Ah, you had me scared for a second,” I said with a smile. “All right, I’m off.”
“Where are you going?” The dwarf looked at me in surprise.
“To the storehouse for information. Are you going to be here for another hour, kind sir?”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. “At least.”
“Don’t leave without me.”
The dwarf nodded to me again, and I set off briskly to find out where the temple was.
Chapter Eleven
In which the hero is convinced that just about all roads lead to the temple.
To be honest, it had been quite a while since the last time I was in a library. When I was little, of course, I had a library card like anyone else, and I checked books out all the time—but that was forever ago. And, I certainly would never have guessed that the next time I’d be visiting a library would be in an online game.
I walked up to the storehouse of knowledge and looked reverently at the heavy door leading into it. It was obvious that whoever built the place had no interest in skimping when it came to keeping knowledge safe and secure. Or maybe they didn’t want just anyone to be able to obtain it?
Turning that over in my head, I walked inside. I found myself tramping down a long corridor that opened into a large, round room lined with bookshelves. On the latter, were books, scrolls, and even, if memory serves, papyri. Smack dab in the middle, was a desk piled high with papers and books. Behind the desk sat someone—or something—that was one of the strangest creatures I had come across in Fayroll to date.
The librarian (Who else could it have been?) had a very small chitin body with an oversized head attached to it awkwardly. There was no neck to speak of, and so the head simply rose out of the shoulders. On that head, was a proboscis, two round eyes that looked like headlights, and a lipless mouth full of needle-sharp teeth. There were even some kind of wings off around the back. On the whole, I would whip out my sword first and ask questions later if I came across something like that in a dark alley. Or maybe I would just turn tail and run.
“What are you staring at?” The creature fixed his saucer eyes on me. “Never seen a pixie before?”
A pixie. Of course, a pixie. And there I was, thinking I was having a conversation with some kind of intelligent mosquito.
“I never have,” I answered frankly. “Never had the chance.”
“Well, there aren’t many of us left,” the pixie said sadly, sniffing through his proboscis. “So what do you need, beanpole?”
“What’s your name, sir?” I asked deferentially.
I didn’t know much about pixies, but I remembered that they’re spiteful creatures who will make a scandal of anything. At least, that’s what they were like in all the fantasy books I’d read. If you wanted information from one of them, you had to be very careful, not to mention polite.
“Locket,” answered the obviously flattered pixie with a nod of his proboscis. I figured that wasn’t a question he was asked a lot. Maybe, most people skipped the talking and just tried to kill him with a
rolled-up newspaper. He was enjoying the attention.
“And I’m Hagen.”
“What do you want, Hagen?” asked Locket cantankerously. “I don’t have all day, and I’m hungry, so spit it out.”
“It’s nothing that complicated.” I decided to grab the bull by the horns. “There’s a temple nearby dedicated to the Departed Gods. You haven’t come across anything about it in your collection of books, have you?”
The pixie again looked at me with his saucer eyes.
“‘Nothing that complicated’? That depends on how you look at it. The Academy of Wisdom doesn’t really appreciate people looking into those types of things. Well, actually, they do their best to keep people from finding out about them.”
Okay, so there’s an Academy of Wisdom, too. What isn’t there in Fayroll? Ah, I know, nothing calm and easy for me and never any getting along with the world around me.
“Well, the Academy, the Academy…they’re certainly a big deal,” I said, deciding to improvise a bit. “But who’s going to tell them? I won’t, and you won’t…”
“Who said I won’t?” The pixie grunted. “I don’t know you from Adam, we aren’t friends, and we aren’t even from the same race. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”
“Sure, you’re right, but even people who aren’t friends can find ways to mutually benefit each other.”
“Mutually benefit each other?” The pixie flew up from behind the desk—his small, transparent wings giving off a high-pitched buzz—and made his way over to me. He looked even smaller away from the desk.
“Yes,” I said insinuatingly. “Everyone needs something. I, for example, need information. Maybe you need something, too? You have what I need, so maybe I have what you need.”
“There is one thing,” said the pixie. “You have something I need—your sword.”
“No, no,” I said, putting a lid on that. “Nobody gets my weapon, wife, or horse. Although…about my wife…I may have spoken too soon. If you need a fiancée, you’re welcome to mine. I’ll even pay you to take her off my hands!”
“Why would I need a wife? Not to mention a fiancée,” said the pixie indignantly. “And I’m fine without a horse—besides, how would a deadbeat like you get your hands on a horse? I need your sword, but not like that.”
The Road East (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 2) (Fayroll) Page 13
