“Oo-oo-ooh ... what are synergies?”
“Who knows…. But it is rare that I do not earn a couple of gold coins, which I then drink away in a noisy pub. Hah .... But this is between us!”
“I am sure no one would believe that,” I chuckled. “The Black Baroness sells magic ... guppies.”
“Well, that’s true, normal players would ridicule it,” laughed the Baroness softly. “But the seasoned leaders of the old clans, those who were at the helm for a long time - they would believe it, easily. Being the head of a clan makes you a nervous wreck, Ros. It is very difficult work. And I say this without false modesty. That’s why any clan leader, along with his or her aides, have one or two outlets. Otherwise, you break a valve, make mistakes, you say what you regret later. Or worse - chronic attenuation, and an aversion to Valdira in general.”
“Outlets, you say,” I said thoughtfully.
“You doubt me?”
“I believe it,” I shook my head. “I do. I witnessed one such outlet, with a heavy emphasis on sexual roleplay.”
“Ha,” snorted the Baroness. “Well, my outlet more innocent. And who was it?”
“The chapter…” I began, and then, catching myself, reproachfully looked at the girl in funny flip flops. “Hey, hey!”
“Come on, simple feminine curiosity. What if I am talking to him about serious clan business on the daily, and then meanwhile, every morning he or she likes to start the day by getting a hundred lashes on his right buttock, and a dozen on the left?”
“You have a good imagination,” I said with respect. “But I will not tell you. Firstly, it is someone else's private business, and secondly, I promised to remain silent. But you have opened my eyes - I thought it was just a joke, but there was really nothing to condemn. Just an outlet…”
“Yes,” the Baroness replied, leaning on the railing and looking at the sails. “But not all are aware of this sort of thing. Or prefer not to think about it. That after a couple of years of clan leadership you go and sell magic guppies, sing opera arias in the closet, draw still life nudes using the elbow instead of the hand, arrange a role play. It is exhausting …"
“Hey, does Malice have an outlet?” I asked with genuine interest. “Does the Red Baron? And Whisper?”
“In all cases, the answer is yes,” she nodded. “But about the first two I cannot tell, and about the last, I do not know, although he often goes away sad and angry, and then returns in two hours, all cheerful and joyous, giving out compliments, joking, ready for any task, even the most tedious and time consuming. And always on his return, he leaves twenty diamonds and rubies from the clan safe, and some mouse tails - from the extremely rare underground mice who inhabit the very deep underground. Two dozen mice in two hours ?! How? The heads of our analysts broke, but we left it alone. We still do not know where Whisper gets so many extremely rare tails, which are needed for special recipes, and why his returns are so cheerful.”
“Hm-m-m-m …" I said. “It is a riddle …."
“And there is another riddle,” the Baroness suddenly changed the subject, frowning. “I received a message from the team of analysts. They say there are now gushing geysers of boiling water, and all are running around as if scalded. Some fleets left the middle of last night, secretly going out to sea, leaving behind an expensive and complex magical illusion.”
“And?”
“The problem is that we have been watching them, though we had not sent any spies. We were closely watching their actions, every movement. Every day I received a report. We were going to give the small fleets a surprise strike. So I knew exactly what they were doing, and knew their approximate plans - they wanted to gather naval armada of a dozen clans and lead them to the north, under the cover of snow storms. They were determined to maintain that fleet at any cost. To start going to the lost continent early. And because of their size, they had every chance to maintain their integrity. But now, because of this the majority of fights among clans will not be in front, and not behind us, but in the middle - in the nucleus. Meaning, I want to get as far ahead as possible, and this is why we need a navigator. They decided to maximally protect their ships, sacrificing speed. Do you know the fable about the hare and the tortoise? Who reaches the finish line?”
“I know. The turtle won.”
“Right. So I am not going to race them and mock the turtle, and sleep in the shade. Because I can learn from fables, and learn from others' mistakes. But it's not about that, Ros. I just want to say - we knew their plans. Though we had no rats in their fleets, the observers did well. They spied on a bunch of conversations, they heard negotiations— oversaw many purchases— and still, we were deceived.”
“Everything happens someday.”
“Yes. They deceived us. And they will deceive us again. But again— they were herded around the clock! We were listening to them around the clock! We about them. More than the clan leaders themselves…”
“Well, how, then? Why did not you stop them?”
“The analysts made their assumptions. But somehow .... while I was telling you about the outlets, they presented me with two possibilities… either we are complete simpletons, or…”
“What? I am even interested now…”
“Or some clever minnow or a smart old pike swam up to them and started to give out orders. That is, if a new player was suddenly in the game— someone very powerful, resolute, intelligent and with a huge reputation. And this kind of intervention is the only way it was possible. Someone like that orders them to go— and all at once, they go, without asking too many questions. Tell me, Ros, if you go to someone’s ship right now and tell them to go, would they?”
“They would think I am crazy, and then give me a kick in the ass and overboard, and the interaction would be over,” I replied without hesitation.
“You’re the Navigator.”
“But who knows about this?”
“Right. But even if they know - in any case, all you are is the Navigator. Aside from that, you have no special reputation. No offense, Ros.”
“Nothing to be offended about. I know. In the dark forest filled with nightmares I will get nowhere through reputation alone.”
“And if I suddenly run aboard, and order them forward!”
“They would also call you crazy, but then would offer you a seat so you could explain the details,” I replied after a moment's pause for reflection. “You are the Black Baroness. A respected, well-known clan leader with a reputation for being a professional leader. Therefore, they would not instantly run after you, but they would certainly offer you a chair by the fireplace, a glass of wine, warm slippers, and a conversation.”
“Precisely. Turns out that you were hiding your genius, Ros.”
“Not exactly. You do not have to flatter me.”
“You understood perfectly. They would not run after me right away, but they would listen and then decide. And all thanks to my reputation. Decision-making would take about a week. It would only work under the most favorable conditions for them. For example, if I said, and proved, that there would be an island of pure gold waiting for them, coconuts with diamonds and rubies on the beach, and complete sets of legendary equipment. That is what would make several hundred ships go out to the open sea. Do not forget, Ros - this huge fleet may be beautiful, but it is also pathetic. And to me, as head of the clan, do you know what this looks like?”
“What?” I asked obediently.
“Like money spread out on a table, like a poker game. As in a casino, where the dealer moves a stack of chips using a special spatula. And I move a stack of money forward— the clan’s money! Serious long-term hard earned cash! At my own risk! And I think, with a shudder - there is, in fact, no absolute certainty. This is Valdivia. The boats will go two miles- and then, bam! Instant death! A couple of seconds - and the money turns to ashes! Therefore, this was a very serious decision.”
“And in this case, hundreds of ships at once are underway,” I said.
“
And under them swim the achilots- and most interestingly, before that, they did not have any common agreement. Well, that or we are completely blind and deaf. It is strange that those who did not have previous agreements and suddenly acted together, and acted clearly, and consistently! And this speaks in favor of the suspicion- leading their team is very skilled conductor. A hard-headed schemer accustomed to operating such large-scale operations and who has a reputation in higher circles. He is obeyed unquestioningly.”
“If he orders them to turn towards the abyss - they turn,” I conclude. “First they turn, and only then do they notice- there is in fact an abyss ahead. Just like in the army. First, the order is executed, and then it is discussed.”
“Yes…. The master puppeteer ... the master clan leader. But who?”
- Are you asking me? - I was surprised to the core - That you should know.
“I do not know. I know of a couple of people of this magnitude, but they have long been out of business, so to speak ....Shit! I have to check,” the girl said, and then stood up and walked to the bridge. “Thank you, Ros.”
“For what?”
“For today.”
“The day we meet for real?”
“Coming soon.” In the blink of an eye, the girl turned from a normal girl into the Black Baroness, donning her black skin. “Now let's deal with Digratsy and the achilots. I have decided to send a large submarine fleet, and then go to the real world and knock on your real door. Knock Knock! Who is there? It's me, Black Baroness!”
“And in response - no one is home!” I said, and called out: “Baroness!”
“Hm?”
“Give me a sec.”
“Listening.”
“I am not an analyst, of course,” I said. “But why are you fixated on destroying the achilot fleet? Just because that object makes underwater creatures mutate and makes them stronger?”
“This version of the story is most likely,” confirmed the Baroness.
“And if it makes them obedient?” I asked. “Has the effect been studied?”
“What are you talking about?
“I mean, that maybe they want to get to that thing in Kvanton, not because it makes sharks the stars of the movie Jaws, but because it is part of the key to Tantarial? Maybe everything is simpler than it looks like?”
“Then why now? They have been trying to get to Tantarial for years! And they did not succeed. The puzzle was not solved. The entryway was not detected, and the key was not found.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked. “Do the Sleepless think so? I've listened to you for a long time now, and do you know what I think?”
“Tell me. And if it is interesting, and turns out to be true— we will share a bottle of divine wine.”
“It's simple. After listening to you, I have to started to come up with a simple conclusion. That there appeared a highly skilled puppeteer, seasoned, and with a serious reputation, who wanted to get into Tantarial. In a nutshell - a honorary genius wanting to go to hell.”
“Honorary genius wanting to go to hell,” thoughtfully repeated Baroness. “Where the hell did he…”
The Baroness froze, as though she were trying to pierce the deck with her gaze. She did not succeed, and instead, stamped her foot, and punched her fist into the cabin wall:
“It cannot be!”
The next moment, the head of the Sleepless was speeding away, fast as a falling meteor.
Realizing that the conversation was over, I crossed my legs and brought up the screen with the information about bonuses and skills issued to me as the great navigator.
I had time to read a little.
These were the skills:
Shining example.
Possible frequency of activation - every sixteen hours.
Description of the action: upon activation, the flagship is shrouded in a golden glow, and trumpets sound. For a short time, the ship gains additional flags. All allied ships at sea within two leagues from the flagship gain a ten-percentage increase of speed, and damage accelerates to five percent of all reconstruction regeneration. The effect lasts for half an hour.
Attention! This effect can be seen by all ships beings, without exception! Including in fog, smoke, snow, dark time of day and other effects affecting visibility.
What for some will be an inspiring example for the others will be an excellent illumination of the target!
Herring!
Possible frequency of activation - every hour.
Description of the action: when you activate the ability, a belly up dead herring floats to the surface of the water.
“Hmm ….” I said, briefly paralyzed. “Herring…” I could not even imagine how the fate of a battle in general could be affected by a dead herring. Was it just a joke?
I itched with the desire to try it — but it would mean to taking control of the skills myself, which I did not want to do. Then I read the effects:
Slave of the flagship fleet gets greater strength parts - 10%
Slave of the flagship receives increased overall strength - 10%
Slave of the flagship fleet gets a higher speed - 5%
Slave of the flagship fleet gets enhanced maneuverability - 5% ...
If I understand correctly, going at turbo speed all together as a fleet will not work. The flagship is special— it is like a gold-plated, titanium acorn. But the slave ships are special to a lesser extent.
They are subordinate to the fleet. It is still possible to select a dozen allied fleets - they also will be given a gain in percentage, but even to a lesser extent. The result - the flagship of the fleet will wander back and forth in an attempt to protect the allies, taking advantage of increased speed and strength. I also saw the detail that the flagship fleet could not be too large. There were restrictions on the number of ships by type, and so on. I decided to look into this in more detail.
I had to be careful. God forbid if somewhere, written in red ink, were the words: "And if the great and terrible Rosgard would say so and so, then woe to us all, it will be a nightmare, because what will happen is ..” It was a joke, of course, but one could never be too careful.
But as soon as I began to read, a boy elf appeared in front of me— a simple, shy face, with a very narrow forehead, but with huge eyes and lips. Even though he was standing a meter away from me, I drew back involuntarily.
“Hell-l-l-lo,” the elf greeted me. He was wearing such a tight suede pants that, at first, I thought that he had just painted legs.
“Hello,” I choked, cautiously looking at the player with the nickname Uhumusechka, two hundred and twenty first level.
“That hat of yours— very nice,” said the elf. He put a thick cardboard folder, tied with black string, before me. “Do you know if the Red Baron is already here?”
“I did not see him,” I confessed.
“That's because he always hides from me his sweet, plump, attractive face,” Uhumusechka sighed, but then said: “But I will find him! I will be sure of it! And will offend him loudly!”
He left me with this shocking statement. I watched him walking away, relieved, and started thinking not of the dead magic herring but of Uhumusechka and the Scarlet Baron. Weird.
“Get him off me!” Thundered the wild and familiar roar. Sighing with relief, I did not think any more about the Baron and the elf with the plump lips, preferring to focus on my folder and untie the black string.
On the first page there was nothing but the extremely promising title:
"A full copy of all the information on Tantarial from the clan archive of the Sleepless.”
And a little lower:
"Whoever you are who are reading this! If you think, you know something about the subject that we do not know — with all courtesy, I declare that you are mistaken! Archivist Junior Santos.”
“Hmm …."
Flipping the page carefully, I continued reading:
“How I am tired of adventurers who, every now and then, find somewhere a piece of huma
n skin, papyrus, bark, a stone tablet, a fragment of a blade, a flap of silk, a wooden board or any other stupid object covered with unrhymed verses! Why? Because they then decide they came upon something very wonderful and precious, and then claimed at auction that they were the “chosen!” I sincerely hope that the reader of these lines is not one of them. If so - I wish you die in Valdivia hundredfold, for you to experience tenfold decay, for a horn to grow out of your forehead and for a chain to be hung on the horn that spells “Tantarialoser.”
Swallowing, I touched my forehead, and then read on .... and there was oh so much reading to do…
Given my interest in the subject, I read carefully, not really paying attention Sleepless walking past me. The bottom line was - I should not have rejoiced so much in finding the patch of human skin. Because every other clan has at least one piece available. Players always find mention of the divine hell. All the time. And, accordingly, many of them devoted hours to this subject— days and weeks of playing time, catching on to scant references and hints. On a tip, they would go to jungles infested with deadly creatures, scorching deserts, ancient ruins, the deepest dungeons and the ocean floor. In this case, the players were killed by the hundreds, and most all of their searches were reduced to zilch. Sometimes they managed to catch another detail that was added to the already existing information on Tantarial.
Because of these brave adventurers wanting to open the gates of hell, it was now known to almost everyone. And perhaps, those players who were able to solve the puzzle simply were not in a hurry to share the answer. Only for a price.
Five million gold coins - this was the officially announced value for the answer to every mystery. Some give more, some give less, and you can bargain.
What is known, as a whole?
Quite little.
For each race, there was a poem in Valdira. People, half-orcs, elves, dwarves, achilots. Together all the poems were called the Odes of Tantarial. Individually - they were scraps.
The Way of the Clan 7 Page 27
