“Yes, your Goddess sure enjoys her little games,” I grumbled ironically. “How could you do something like that to people?”
“Such is our fate,” said Ogina, bursting into plaintive tears.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to calm her down. “I’m here now. I’ll save you all. Just tell me what to do so we can get to the explosion in the sky, and you turn into a beauty like your sister.”
The dryad stopped crying and rubbed her tears away from her wrinkled eyes with her two fists. “You have to return my soul. The part Mandiblefighter has,” she said dubiously.
“And who is Mandiblefighter?” Getting information from this dryad was like pulling teeth.
“A spider. He’s big and scary.” Ogina threw her arms apart to show exactly how big and scary the spider was, though the effect was underwhelming thanks to how short she was.
“That’s it? I just have to kill a spider? Great!”
“So you’ll do it?” The dryad’s voice was fading.
“Of course!” I winked dashingly at her.
You unlocked Soul of the Dryad.
This is the second of the Children of the Goddess series of hidden quests.
Task: Retrieve the part of Ogina the East’s soul kept by Mandiblefighter.
Additional task: Kill Mandiblefighter.
Reward:
10000 experience
Item matching your class: variable (at least elite)
Random boost to one of your attributes
Ability to unlock the third quest in the Children of the Goddess series
That was a suspiciously long list of rewards for just killing a spider. I didn’t have much choice, however, and I figured I could pick up a few more people in Selgar if I had to.
“Thanks, hero,” the dryad said, again bursting into tears. “I’ll be waiting for you. I can’t hope, but I’ll be waiting.”
“Waiting is better than nothing,” I said before moving back to the business side of things. “Where can I find this spider?”
“On the edge of the desert next to Makh-Talag, an abandoned city. You won’t have to look for him, though; just blow into this whistle when you get to the city.”
The dryad dug around in her rags and held out a small silver whistle.
“Be careful, warrior, he’s very strong. You won’t be able to kill him by yourself.”
“Got it. Want an apple?”
She nodded. I handed her an apple that had probably been bouncing around in my bag since Fladridge.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon!” I ported to Selgar and headed toward the already-familiar caravanserai.
Once there, I looked over what I’d gotten from the dryad and yet again swore. What is she asking me to do?
High Grass Boots
Made by elven blacksmiths at the order of the Great Dryad Natalina.
From the Dryad Armor set
Set includes:
Crown of Leaves
Autumn Evening Breastplate
Sunlight Gauntlets
Deep Water Greaves
High Grass Boots
Morning Light Signet Ring
Hot Noon Amulet
Protection: 220
+34 to wisdom
+25 to intellect
+26% ability to parry
+12% light damage
+18% mana restoration speed when calm
+12% friendship with animals
Durability: 1220/1220
Minimum level for use: 60
Class limitation: only mages, druids
Cannot be stolen, lost, or broken
Does not disappear from the holder’s inventory after dying
Using the entire set offers the following bonuses:
3 random abilities for mages or druids
+40% chance of doing damage with the power of nature
+25% chance of unexpected aid arriving from the Fayroll animal world
I had the feeling the dryads were laughing at me with their rewards. First, there was the sword I could neither use nor sell. Though, at least, I’d be able to use it eventually… Here, my case was hopeless, and, again, I couldn’t sell it. If armor appeared at the auction that nobody had ever heard of before, it would be a race to see which of the clans’ security officers would hunt me down first. And, of course, Gerv and Elina would kill me…
At least the ability was something I could use. Well, to be fair, it was fantastic: I could summon a wolf. It wasn’t a pet I had to exercise and take care of; it was a fighting beast that appeared for a short time and a specific reason.
Active ability: Wolf Soul. Lets you summon a wild animal that will fight on your side for one minute.
The wolf’s strength and health amount to 15% of your own.
Activation cost: 70 mana
Recharge time: 90 seconds
Note: the wolf’s strength and health will grow as yours does, though the cost of summoning it may increase at higher levels.
It was a great ability, but it also forced me to pick which one of mine I wanted to forget. In Passing or Serpent’s Tooth? I left Fayroll still puzzling that over in my head.
When I left the game, I followed my nose to find that Vika was working her magic in the kitchen. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind, Should I marry her? I shook my head to clear it of nonsense like that and visited the Fayroll site. Okay, let’s see what kind of little spider I’m supposed to squish. Wait a second…that’s not little at all!
I realized why the reward for killing it was so impressive. Although, compared to the spider, it was more underwhelming than impressive…
Chapter Twenty-One
In which we find that mutual benefit is always a good thing.
Long story short, that Mandiblefighter was no “little spider.” He could barely be called a “big spider.” Instead, he was a furry mountain with a Teutonic cross on his back, enormous mandibles, and all the rest. He was one of the few epic monsters there were in Fayroll, the kind a clan could take out and boast about for years to come. However, nobody had seen him over the past year and a half or two years. When the developers added the quest to the game, they pulled him back into reserve to make sure he was there as a surprise for anyone doing the quest. Color me surprised.
I sat and watched a clip recorded when the beast still roamed the East. The entire Flagmen clan was trying to take out Mandiblefighter, though they were having a hard time of it. The creature spat poison, lashed out with his legs or whatever they’re called, and occasionally dove into the sand only to pop out of it somewhere else to send ridiculous debuffs at its assailants. The battle ended with the clan winning, though I’d say only about 20% of them made it to the finish line. They had started with about 400 decent players. What was I saying about finding people in Selgar? Yeah, right…
The situation was bad, and that was putting it lightly. Sure, I could theoretically put together a pickup group—but only theoretically. In practice, there was no point, as epic monsters like that can only be taken down by a well-trained force commanded by a knowledgeable leader and excellent coordinator. There’s no point in even discussing trophies; the slaughter would be over well before it came time to distribute them. One more problem was that I had to survive. But, the most important issue was that I wasn’t at liberty to say how I’d been able to find the arachnid, and I’d have to—maybe not at first, but eventually.
That last thing was the reason why I couldn’t ask my clan for help, only there, it was even worse. I’d have to explain why I hadn’t let my clan know about the whole series back at the beginning. Then Zimin would be all over me for telling my clan about the quest, which he told me I wasn’t allowed to do. There was no point involving the Hounds. I had no idea who would pose a bigger threat to me if I did: Elina or the Gray Witch. Elina would take out all her emotions on me, but the Gray Witch…who knows?
So, there I was with a hidden quest and an epic monster—the dream of any normal player—not to mention a goal that I could just about reach ou
t and touch.
“Oh, wow, who’s that scary guy?” I felt Vika’s breath on my ear and realized she was standing behind me.
“Him?” I shrugged. “A monster that’s about as unnatural as it gets."
“What a weird name. Although, I guess it works for a spider that big,” said Vika in surprise as she studied the picture carefully.
“It is what it is.”
“Where does it live?” Vika bent over and tried to read the text on the screen.
“In the past.” I pointed to the date of the clip. “I’m collecting material for an article I might write about elite monsters.”
“Oh, can I write it?” she jumped in. “The other three are always tapping away at the two columns they each have, and all I ever do is dig through messages. I don’t get any practice."
“Be my guest,” I said. “Although, you’re already in a much better position than they are.”
“How is that? Just be careful talking about positions—don’t jinx anything,” Vika answered, arms akimbo.
“Yeah, just what I need.”
Vika smiled slyly, and I decided to change the subject away from that minefield.
“Let’s count. You’re my assistant, that’s number one.” I bent over my first finger.
“I’m sleeping with you, that’s two.” Vika bent over my second finger, playing along.
“True,” I said. “Zimin knows who you are, that’s three.”
“That should really be number one.”
“You’re talented and beautiful, and you write well, that’s four,” I said in conclusion. “Oh, and you’re a great cook.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it. And, how do you know I write well if you haven’t read anything I’ve written?” asked Vika with a toss of her head.
“The fact that you’re a good cook is more important than anything.” I disagreed with her on that point. “When I’m full, I’m happy. And, life is easier for everyone when I’m happy. About your writing, I’ve heard the advice you give the other three—it’s on the money, succinct, and clear. That means you know how to pick out what’s most important and portray it in a winning light. What else do you need to prove your talent? You’re the best!”
Vika wasn’t about to argue with that, so she sent me off to wash my hands before eating. And oh, how we ate.
The next morning I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with a solution to my problem. My plan was tricky and riddled with “ifs,” but it was worth a shot. There wasn’t an alternative…that I could see, anyway.
“What are we doing today?” asked Vika, stretching lithely like a cat.
“I have some things to do in Fayroll, but nothing too pressing. I gather you have a suggestion?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered, scrunching up her nose.
“Oh, I don’t know” is a magical and mighty phrase. Women who use it understand perfectly well that, at that moment, a thousand different possibilities chase each other through their man’s head: from “figure out how to amuse me” to “sweetie, I’m pregnant.” What they’re actually thinking, well, only they know that. And, in some cases, even they’re in the dark.
Experienced men, however, know how to head their women off at the pass. “Okay, then I’m going to go have a smoke while you figure out what you want. It might be a good idea to buy a robe for you to have here, maybe some slippers, a toothbrush… Anyway, you’ll figure it out.”
Off I went to smoke. The magic words “good idea to buy” had been planted, and Vika’s mind was working away in the right direction. Sure, shopping with women is always tough, but shopping with a woman you’ve just started living with isn’t that bad. She hasn’t cut loose her predatory side yet and still enjoys the little things—a trip to the mall, for instance. That isn’t too terrible, and it doesn’t even take that long. I didn’t expect that it would be more than three or four hours. In comparison to Saturdays with the missing (thank heavens) El and our seven- or eight-hour shopping marathons, that was nothing. Most important was to make sure that Vika didn’t try to talk about our feelings. I had to make sure there wasn’t anything like, “So, if we’re buying things for me to have here, does that mean that we’re…blah, blah, blah.”
“Think of anything?” I asked when I got back.
“Yep!” She nodded. “Tell me this, though. What does it mean that we’re buying things for me to have here?”
Oh, damn it. Here we go. I knew it!
An hour later, I’d assured Vika that it meant everything to me, though she still had all the freedom she wanted (I think that actually disappointed her a bit), and we decided we weren’t going to say anything at the office (as if the people working there were blind). Then, we finally left.
The transparent blue sky and the lengthening skirts showed that summer was coming to a close. Autumn was on its way in, but it still wasn’t all the way there yet.
“Why don’t you have a car? Do you not have a license?” asked Vika.
“No, babe. I have a license, I just don’t have any money. Or, at least, not enough money,” I answered honestly.
“That’s a shame. It would be faster if you had a car, and definitely easier,” she said, clearly disappointed.
“Agreed. But we’ll take the metro and a bus. That’s longer, but it’s more romantic.”
“Where’s the romance in that?”
“We’ll be squashed up against each other, and we’ll have to fight off the wild horde of weekend shoppers,” I said, creasing my brows severely.
I should note how impressed I was with how thoughtful and calm Vika was. She didn’t yell at the woman who bumped into her with her shopping cart, she didn’t wave her fist at the manager and threaten to call that one person she knows, and she didn’t think everything wrong in the world was my fault. She even let me stop by my beloved KFC, even if she only got a piece of some cake for herself. Maybe she’s on a diet? That didn’t keep me from stuffing my face, though. Ah, how I love their chicken!
When I finally logged into the game, I was full, in a great mood, and confident that my plan would work. Some days, you know that everything’s going your way.
I walked over to the first mailbox I came across and sent a short message to Gedron the Elder.
Ring. Selgar. One-eyed Ibrahim. Meet me in an hour.
An hour later, I was walking into the dukhan. Ibrahim saw me with his one good eye, came over, and gushed his Eastern greetings.
“Oh, what a pleasure! I swear on the health of my youngest son, it’s like a holiday! You returned to my humble dukhan! Would you like the usual table upstairs?”
“Yes, my good man,” I said, clasping a hand to my heart. “Bring me some wine and something else. I have a friend named Gedron coming soon, so please send him up when he gets here, but do your best not to attract any attention.”
Ibrahim slyly winked his one eye and whispered his response.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it!”
Ibrahim was about to leave when I asked him a question that had been bothering me for a while. “Ibrahim, why is your establishment called a ‘dukhan’? I thought a ‘dukhan’ is a small store.”
He grinned. “Well, that’s because it used to be a store. I traded lots of little knick-knacks. Then I started selling wine, and then pita bread. Then different herbs and spices. After a while, it turned into more of a tavern, but everyone was so used to calling it a ‘dukhan’ that the name stuck.”
When he brought Gedron the Elder over to my table ten minutes later, the latter was obviously impressed by all the winking, whispering, and general secretiveness going on.
“Thanks, Ibrahim.” I nodded to the dukhan owner and handed him some gold. “Buy your youngest son some honey halva. Kids love it.”
Ibrahim was flattered and left us, promising to be back in half an hour with “the very best kebab in the city, the best city I’ve ever seen.”
“As if he’s been in other cities,” muttered Gedron, slipping off h
is hood and sitting down at the table.
“Wine?” I asked, gesturing at the pitcher with my chin.
“No,” answered the Elder, a bit annoyed.
“Is something wrong?”
“What do you think? Some little squirt,” said Gedron, looking at my level, “okay, padawan, sends me a message, and I have to drop what I’m doing and run over like we’re on some sort of date.”
“To past glory!” I said, deciding to drive home the point by raising my glass of wine. “Not to mention your promise!”
I wagged my finger at him.
“I remember. So, what does the master wish? Gold? Silver? Kill someone? Conquer all of Rattermark?”
“Well, I need money, though not from you. I’m not quite ready for world domination yet, but that part about killing someone, yes. That I need. How many soldiers do you currently have?”
My question obviously took Gedron by surprise.
“About 400 people. That’s everyone that’s left in the clan.”
“And what kind of people are they? Veterans, newcomers?”
I could tell that Gedron was starting to get nervous. “Why do you care?”
The conversation was already going where I wanted it to go, but a little more pressure couldn’t hurt.
“What you need to realize,” I said, talking down to him, “is that the fact that I ask something means I need to know the answer. Your answer is the difference between your clan benefiting from an incredible chance or not.”
“What chance? Why did you ask me to come here?” Gedron was obviously nearing his boiling point. “You want to me to repay my debt, no?”
“Are the two mutually exclusive?” I asked calmly. “Sometimes, they can go hand-in-hand.”
“Ridiculous…”
I went back to the main issue. “So, what about your clan?”
“Three hundred veterans,” Gedron answered sullenly. “The rest are between Levels 20 and 60. Mostly warriors with a few mages.”
“What about healers?”
“We’ve never had many of them. There are a few, but that’s it.”
“That’s a problem…” I shook my head sadly.
“What, you’re trying to declare war on someone?” Gedron laughed. “You can forget about us in that case; keep the ring. We’re staying out of wars for a while—too busy rebuilding at our new spot. No new wars.”
The Road East (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 2) (Fayroll) Page 27
