The Way of the Clan 7

by Dem Mikhaylov

  Hell…. I did not expect this.

  Vlas reminded me of a shallow-water creature at great depths. He is like a frog, squeezed by the water pressure so much that the body is flattened, the eyes are swollen, he is hardly swimming, but still the frog does not want to go back up to the shallow water and continues to remain in the depths, to the surprise of the other inhabitants ....

  I am really becoming a philosopher. Last weeks have not changed me, but have seriously expanded my outlook.

  “Boss!”

  “Hello,” I smiled at the green-skinned, fanged monster in a leather jacket over a green shirt. I see you’ve dressed down.”

  "It was on sale,” Bom smiled. “I will spend money on equipment, but not on rubbish silks.”

  "You ordered something?"

  “Of course! The most expensive of the list, whatever that is. You’re paying after all.”

  “Yep, of course you did. Go on and tell me what you were going to say. I hope it will not be something stupid like "It's time for us to build a great clan!"

  “Hell no! Of course not!”

  “Well, great. What is it then?”

  “Well, it's time for us to establish a great clan, Ros!”

  "Ah damn it all ... I knew it ...."

  "And what can you do? The benefits are innumerable! I think it would be great. At first, we will take time to develop ourselves, to grow, to earn and to build. We will not even have to bother defending our home borders yet. Do not have to waste time on tedious meetings and non-aggression treaties. But eventually, there will be our own small territory, some warehouses, events with different benefits will begin to happen. And the direction of the development of the clan is obvious - we will be professional mercenaries, adventurers. For us, this is the ideal option. Not strictly military. Specifically adventurers. After all, we do not really have anyone normal in our group, only me and maybe Cray, all the others are just as bad as our very own insane bald comet. I started thinking, Ros, look, the first step is ridiculously easy, you just have to…”

  “Stop, stop, stop!” I waved. “You prepared this speech, right?”

  “Yep,” nodded Bom “Mulling it over in my head for an hour now. Want to read?”

  “No, thanks.”

  "No problem.”

  “Right. And does not this plan leave us off no better than the Sleepless?”

  “Well, yes. The result is the same - the Sleepless are known throughout Valdira, and you know their reputation.”

  “True.”

  "So, do you agree about the clan plan?"

  “Hmm .... Bom, well, why do we need a clan now? Tell me.”

  "Are we going to Zar'Graad? Just do not reject it completely, do not look at me like that, as if it is all rumors. Because rumors go around the sea, but the wind blows only in one direction - to the deep ocean, to the great campaign.”

  "Even so, why a clan? Do you need a ticket?”

  “I’ve been promised a ticket for six times already,” snapped Bom. “With various bonuses, a class no lower than the first, almost with a private cabin, corned beef, a barrel of rum and a drunken parakeet, able to play poker.”

  “Good offer. And I will not ask who offered you such great bonuses and for what.”

  "I appreciate that in you. That you are able to "not ask".”

  "I am going to ask about something else, and for the second time - why a clan? Do you want us to have matching pants and coats?”

  "A clan of adventurers," Bom said.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “For the sake of the future, Ros,” the half-orc spread with his hands. “Or are you going to leave Valdira?”

  “Probably not.”

  “So what is the problem? We have enough money, if we throw everything in. The payment will not seem so significant. We will get our place in the world, we will make a reserve for the future, we will gather more friends, and we will bury our enemies. In Valdira, single people cannot be on top, you yourself know this. It is rare that you can assemble into a good group and go on endless adventures for days and weeks on end.”

  “It worked out,” I nodded, leaving the cup empty.

  “And anyway, what kind of question is that - why a clan? It is necessary! Especially if you all have the money.”

  “You all?” I specified.

  “Yeah! I have been saving up. You, by the way, are in third place for extravagance. In the second, one comes the thrifty Cray, and at first place is me, Bom. The rest - terrible! Kaylen buys dozens of outfits that do not give anything to the benefits of character. Doc buys books for his library, and I personally saw him coming out of the elite store "Special Joys of Sensuality", and when he went out, all the staff ran out and bowed to him. How much did he buy?! Legions of glamorous demons?! And you decided to dress up like a baron, drink like a count, ride like a lord. On a limousine all over Valdira! ... But this is your own business.”

  “You are right.”

  “And I am sure, also, that it was not just a romantic walk. Doc can attest to that. By the way, I was only able to contact him. The others are still not in the game.”

  "Excellent, I was just thinking I want to ask him something. Can you tell me where Orbit is?”

  “You kidding?”

  “Why?”

  “He arranged for himself a game with a long name: "get the tree with a precious stone launched from a slingshot from a distance of twenty-five jumps!" And I hasten to notice - Orbit only got the tree on the one hundred and twelfth attempt. Meanwhile, all the precious stones were being picked up by all the village children and by one half-orc. The verdict is as follows: children - 19 stones, half-orc - the rest. Damn cheeky kids! Not even afraid of toothy half-orcs, tearing the emeralds right from his claws! What is this new "local" generation coming to? What will become of the digital children? Theft, robbery, disrespect of elders!”

  "So it was you who was crawling in the dust," I concluded with a quiet laugh. "Oh ...."

  "What did you think? That I would watch diamonds about the size of a walnut fall into dust and I not do anything about it? I am not crazy yet. So anyway, what about the clan?”

  "Here's Doc."

  Our doctor arrived… why was he so happy?

  I waited until the elegantly dressed Doc came near, waved my hand at him, and then gently asked:

  "Doc, listen, how's the white rabbit doing?"

  D-D-AH!

  From the most powerful kick of his medicine leg, one of the elegant tables flew down into the mist-covered abyss. Three chairs, two candlesticks, and a jar of marmalade sauce followed.

  "Hell of a question,” Bom said quietly, watching Doc as he tried to get away from the stone wall, tried to tear off the luminous snail from it, ignoring the waiters, who were somewhat taken aback by the behavior of their guest.

  "I am shocked," I admitted.

  "He'll throw out the snail, and then he'll go for you. Would you like protection, the future clan leader?”

  "No need," I answered uncertainly, rising. "What could his strength possibly be? He can hardly tear off the snail from the wall. But we have to stop him. Bom, will you deal with the head of the restaurant?”

  “I will. What should he say? Or should I just bind and gag him?”

  “Say something nice. That his childhood was difficult and all that. Just so that he is not expelled.”

  “Got it, give me the money.”

  “Here you go.”

  Grabbing a bag of gold, the half-orc hurried to the ridiculously lean gnome standing at a distance. And I walked to Doc to try and calm him with a slightly wicked curiosity.

  But who could have expected such an explosion of emotions?

  After a quarter hour of negotiating, paying money to the restaurant for the parts of it that were thrown into the abyss, Doc finally sat down at our table, clutching a glass of amber dwarf triple distilled liquid in his hands. A portion of whiskey cost fifty gold. I hope it would only take one dose to calm Doc’s trembling nerves. After Bom's words,
I was thinking harder about saving money. Gone were the times when I hastily collected copper pennies from the sand in Cradle after the tournament. I had also crawled in the dust for the money .... Oh….

  “So Shmig told you,” squeezed Doc and took a huge sip.

  No, I think one dose of whiskey will not be enough. There will not even be enough bottles.

  "He did," I confirmed.

  “And for what? Why now? Did he just want to gossip?”

  “No-no,” I swept aside his suspicions. “Believe me, I have enough of it without you, and you yourself know it.”

  “Why then?”

  “I was curious, of course. But not only for that. You were the one who came here all tensed up, eyes bulging, fists tight. And you were the one who threw the table, chairs, played tug-of-war with the waiter. Do you feel better now?”

  "Yes," the doctor admitted, smoothing his hair. "Yes, it's easier now. But damn it! Damn it all!”

  "Can you tell me in a nutshell?”

  “Ugh .... Already sending a shiver up my back! What is there to tell?! This fucking creature killed me several times in a row! He was mocking me! Quoting riddles while killing me, asking the question before the final blow! Bastard! What a bastard!

  “Hmm ... more specifics?” Bom stepped in, taking the glass of whiskey from Doc and taking a test sip.

  “Yeah, yeah .... it is better that way. So in short…”

  In short, it was so elaborate, that it was like another chronicle in the misadventures of Doc. The healer remembered every second, every word and event, unfortunately enough.

  It all began like this: Doc was walking along the dark narrow corridor, preparing to fulfill his professional duty, but suddenly he was distracted by a spark of light. Automatically he turned in the wrong direction, and broke away from the leader of the tiny group. And fell into the clutches of a strange ten-legged monster that looks like the invention of a bad poet. It was a cross between a spider and a smiling gorilla. Immediately he got stuck in web, stuck tightly, and he began to struggle, while the monster recited with anguish:

  In the living dark, in the beautiful dark

  My bullshit is heard.

  But I am a poet, a soul that strives, and from my chest it leaps!

  Fangs clutched in quiet lamentation, I ask you my new friend!

  How is the white rabbit?

  There was no time to answer. The verse was followed by a final swift blow of two stings at once - it turned out that the monster had a tail like two scorpion stings joined together. Then it came the bite of the fanged mouth, and the tight embrace of thorny paws. The frail Doc flew to a revival location instantly.

  Dumbfounded, stunned by the sudden surreal recitation in the darkness, the physician gathered himself morally, wrote to Shmig, and again rushed into the dungeon.

  He walked fifty steps - while the thief moved towards him, returning. But he did not reach his friend - a familiar paw came in from above, Doc was grabbed by the neck, and pulled up to the ceiling. As he began to struggle, the same familiar voice solemnly began to speak:

  The flight of the comet is so beautiful!

  Stars fall chaotically

  But I do not wish not to make a wish.

  Instead, I ask:

  How is the white rabbit?

  And again - death.

  At the location of the revival, Doc appeared with a furious, wild howl of "A-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" And then, like a nutcase, without trying to write Shmig, straight naked, rushed into the dungeon, grabbing the first thing that came to hand.

  He ran long enough, passed several turns and jumped three gaps, frantic eyes looking for the hated monster. And then, he found him - a spiked spider's paw gently took the weapon, another one of the monster’s limbs took Doc by the shoulders, swathed him in cobwebs, and with a soulful voice began:

  Here is the flag glorious in the sky!

  Above the clouds a banner is flying!

  The victory roar of the military

  Calls all soldiers to heroism!

  And on the run, through wheezing and fatigued, I quietly murmur a few words:

  How is the white rabbit? ....

  At the end of the story, Doc, as it seemed to me, was shedding tears, sighing with quiet sorrow. With difficulty, he took the glass from Bom and finished his whiskey. But I understood, for sure - it was something to get mad about.

  “So yeah, you flew away, perished,” the half-orc rumbled. “I understand. But you still did not answer the question - how is that white ra - ”

  “Let’s return to our conversation!” I intervened. “To the main theme! Bom, order us another coffee that is hot. Doc, did you kill it? This spider?”

  “No! He disappeared, that son of a bitch! The system issued a message that the dungeons of the ancient temple were cleaned! But we did not kill the spider, I am telling you! It is as if he sank into the water! Left, probably. I will kill him!”

  “Hmm .... Did not find him, then. Doc, did you try to take revenge bald elf style?”

  “How?”

  “No, then. Learn, rookie. Look. First of all, I take notes on your brief and chilling story, including the details about the poetry. I add that the monster is charismatic, unusual, disappeared without a trace, and at the same time he is extremely-extremely interest-ting. Who will I send the message to?”

  "Who? Orbit?”

  “Precisely. Sending it now. We are waiting for an answer if he is in the game.”

  “He won’t answer,” Bom said over his shoulder, having been talking about something to the waiter who approached him. “The system shows that he is not.”

  "It's just that he's not interested in answering it," I remarked. "Or maybe he's still asleep."

  There was a ringing tone. I read the answer aloud.

  "Oh-oh-oh-oh!".

  And that was all. A bald elf who hates boredom must be interested in that sort of thing - a monster poet who managed to escape. What would he do with it? I have no idea.

  “Ros, so what about the clan?”

  “Yes! What about the clan?” The doctor chimed in.

  “Are you also “for” it?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah! Of course! Ros, this is a great idea - our common clan!”

  “Hmm ....”

  "The rest of us will say the same. But you're the glue, Ros, holding us together.”

  "You might as well call me a band aid. I propose the following option - Bom, you collect the right amount from everyone. You get the contract for the foundation. You do everything so that every piece of paper is completely ready, signed, sealed and so on. Then we will gather all our friends, we will sit by the fire, we will have several packages of marshmallows and wine as in the old days. And we will have a nice quiet evening together. At the same time, we will finally make a decision, having voted and having understood in general all the conditions of this contract. If not, we can always make it void.”

  "With a five percent loss of its value," Bom added.

  “If you have to return it - I will refund five percent,” I promised.

  “Done!” Roared the "ass". “Finally, some kind of step! I will start with tomorrow morning. After tonight’s soiree.”

  Good. Surprisingly, I still had not received a special invitation from the Baroness. I suppose she likes such exclusive things within the clan. I have noticed that the Sleepless do not stint on spending money on suits, cards, meals, drinks, gifts, etc.

  It was to be a grand and solemn reception in the clan citadel.

  The restaurant in the center of Algora - taken away from the Architects clan. The restaurant itself was clearly luxurious and incredibly expensive, judging by the decorations. In the center was a golden bowl filled to the top with red wine. A rich crown hovered above it, two knights kneeling around the edges .... Overall, only a novice player would not recognize the pattern of the royal coat of arms of Algora, seen only at those celebrations where his royal majesty was present. The Sleepless were preparing to host the king himself ....


  Not that it worried me directly, but the scope it spoke volumes.

  Involuntarily, I thought about how overloaded the brain of the Baroness must be. She is like a real monarch, having to make the only right decision on all fronts. And then there the irritant, in the form of some impudent Great Navigator Rosgard, like a petty spiteful mosquito, flying around and sometimes squeaking in the negative in response to all her suggestions. It was only now that I began to understand this, after the participants of my group began to pile on me with their proposals, needs, requests, for the sharing of trophies, the properties of not the most ordinary characters, and other things.

  Hardly having returned to the digital reality, I caught sight of Bom and asked:

  “Have you agreed?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Okay. Then there is nothing more to do. You can act. In the evening, we will meet and discuss. And Bom, about Kira - do not worry about her. The Albatrosses are not a problem. And I trust her.”

  “So why did not you invite her?”

  "Let her sleep a bit," I shook my head. "She's going to go to the banks of Naykal again today to go fishing. But that’s a different story. Alright. Am I dismissed?”

  “Yes, go,” nodded the half-orc, rising from the table and jumping to the terrace. “I will see you in the evening.”

  “Alright,” I waved, and Bom dropped into the abyss.

  I followed his body over the balcony thoughtfully, and then turned to Doc:

  "Why aren’t you jumping too, like that green Icarus?"

  “You think I am crazy? Although, I have scrolls .... But I better walk. I had enough when we escaped from the robbery of that nobleman’s estate.”

  “Talk about the robbery quietly,” I said, involuntarily shivering. “We are still being looked for! They do not know our names, but still, I am sure they are looking for us!”

  “OK OK. Ros, so what about today? Do you have any evil intentions or insidious plans?”

  “Nope,” I confessed with a smile. “Today the routine is planned. But you can easily find something to do without me. What about Shmig? Did you try to ask him? Or did you have enough with white rabbits?”