Changing World- The Beginning

by Sergei Katz

  You have uncovered a hidden knowledge. To reach another level: “Understanding the World” you need to find information on another 24 hidden knowledges.

  “Excellent, I will improve this knowledge over time ...”

  Just as I had finished reading my messages, my new-found brother came to me, leaning on the Shaman. Although his face was very serious, his eyes betrayed the storm of joy and emotion that were swirling in him. The Shaman could feel all of this even without looking, and he smiled cunningly. A second before Rarou spoke, he winked at me.

  — I am the leader of the Ahi Arra tribe, and I declare that you, Alder, now and forever have become a much-loved friend of our tribe. Your friends are our friends, and your enemies are our enemies. — The wooden figure of an animal that the Shaman was holding in his hands lit up, and this glow passed to all those present.

  The world has confirmed your status.

  “What does this mean? If the world for some reason hadn’t confirmed this, would I have received anything? Is this some sort of a protection against hackers?”

  But they didn’t give me time to think about it: the friendly patting on my back, started by Rarou, was happening in full swing for me. Although sometimes it was pretty painful, I was still very pleased, and I was overwhelmed by emotion.

  Suddenly, the whole crowd took a step back, and my Totem and Phasm in the form of a black crow fell upon me joyfully from the skies. Both were incredibly happy that everything had ended so well. When the Orcs came to their senses from the sudden appearance of my pets, they began to completely smother them with affection. Both animals were happy to receive their share of attention, and I was able to quietly take a back seat.

  The tribe allocated a private house for me, and it was furnished with a bed, a stove, and filled with food. A couple of women that were considered pretty by Orc standards tried to invite themselves as guests for the night, but they looked too much like men for my taste, so I politely declined.

  In the morning, enthusiastic Rarou descended upon me through the doorway.

  — How are you, brother? I didn’t wake you up, did I? — The Orc’s face reflected a hope that he actually did so. It seemed to me that he liked to surprise people.

  — No, brother, you were an hour too late. — I replied. It was true. I had woken up and lay in bed looking through the contents of my bag. I had collected so much that even knowing what I had, I couldn’t always find what I needed quickly. I had to organize the bag at some point, but this wasn’t a right time to do so.

  — Well, okay then, — the Orc said, realizing that he had lost his chance. — How about a practice fight, only this time without any limitations on magic and ability?

  — I'm up for it! I was actually about to ask you myself. I need to practice, and there can’t be anyone better to practice with than an experienced Orc warrior, who also happens to be the head of the tribe!

  — Honestly, you do need more practice! You have an excellent potential, but you need more battle experience, — the Orc told me in his growling voice.

  — You won’t believe this, — I laughed. — I've only been swinging a sword for just two months!

  — Seriously? — I could see that Rarou was surprised through his eyes. — Now I'm definitely sure that we are brothers in strength! We'll quickly train you. I'll involve the whole tribe in this matter. I promise with my hand on my heart that nobody will refuse you! And if anybody dares to refuse ...they will have me to deal with. — A formidable expression appeared on the Orc’s face. — I'll sort them out.

  The fight turned out to be interesting, but fast paced. My magic and tricks were able to delay the defeat, but Rarou was head and shoulders a better fighter than me. His arsenal was full of strikes, magic spells and special combat runes. He didn’t even use his “Berserker” skills. After the fight, I had a break for 10 minutes, and then I had another duel, but this time with a young Orc. At this point, I was much more experienced, and the battle ended quickly. I didn’t even have to use any magic.

  Soon, I lost count of how many fights I had. I won many of them, but there were also those that I lost, these were mostly the duels against experienced Orcs.

  — Excellent training! — My true brother came to me unnoticed, and slapped me on the shoulder.

  — I don’t have the strength for another fight, — I warned the Orc.

  — Me neither, and the Sun is already setting, so now we'll have a feast in your honor. But I have another suggestion. Shall we train your pets? By the way, I forgot to ask, what were you thinking about when you tamed the Phasm? He's the weakest being in this whole entire world!

  — You wouldn’t believe me...

  The Orc’s demeanor showed that he didn’t believe whatever I said, since only an idiot would believe such a thing.

  — The truth is that he chose me, — I blurted out.

  The Orc stared at Little Morph, who was pretending not to be there, but was still listening in on the conversation. After a moment of thought, the Orc said in a serious air:

  — If what you say it’s true then it was meant to be.

  It was my turn to sit with bulging eyes. I looked at my shocked pet, and he was also taken by complete surprise.

  — Okay. — The Orc whistled, and a black animal the size of an adult wolf appeared right next to him.

  The animal had a thick long coat, especially thick near the tail. The paws, muzzle and tail tip were absolutely black, and the remaining parts of the body were of a patchy-striped color.

  — Meet my pet, it’s a Civet called Slasher. I tamed it when exploring the forests.

  Little Morph and Slasher began to sniff each other.

  — Well, that’s enough of getting acquainted, it’s time to quickly get into the arena!

  My Phasm looked at me questioningly.

  — Come on then. Show me what the weakest pet in the world is capable of. If you win, I'll give you a bottle of wine as a present.

  Morph’s eyes glistened at the prospect: after getting to know the dwarf, my pet had become a connoisseur of booze. He hadn’t had a drop to drink for this whole trip, and I was sure that this incentive would motivate him very much.

  — So he's a drinker then! — The Orc was envious. — Mine totally refuses to try alcohol.

  Both pets took up their positions.

  — Well, let's begin then, shall we? — The Orc looked at me, and I nodded in agreement. I myself was interested to see how capable my pet was in one-on-one combat with another pet.

  The Orc waved his hand, and both animals charged at each other. My Phasm was significantly worse in speed and power of his strikes, and the superiority of the Civet was overwhelming. Little Morph’s life points had already fallen to yellow level, and the pet belonging to the rejoicing Orc had only received a couple of scratches. My Phasm, initially confident in himself and his strengths, gradually lost his fighting spirit.

  I thought to myself: “This isn’t going to work out.” — I had invested a lot of time and effort instilling confidence in him, and I wasn’t prepared to let him lose it now, especially since Morph was losing because he wasn’t fighting by his own rules, but by the rules of his opponent.

  — Am I allowed to give him advices? — I asked Rarou.

  — Of course, this is a training duel, and its purpose is not only to compare strengths, but also to disclose weaknesses and to explore — He nodded at our pet, — their potential.

  — Excellent, — I smiled cunningly.

  The Orc tensed a little:

  — I do not like that smile of yours. I feel like I'm missing something, but I just can’t think what it is.

  — Stop being a whipping boy, — I told my pet. — Morph, change your form, — I said, then I showed him one of the hand commands that I had developed.

  My Phasm’s mood immediately changed. He turned into a crow and soared into the air.

  — That’s not fair! —Rarou roared.

  — What’s not fair about it? — I was indignant.
— It's his inner ability. That’s how he survives.

  The pattern of the battle changed completely. Little Morph started attacking Slasher with near impunity. It was immediately clear that the Civet had little experience in fighting winged creatures. Giving out signs for a couple more ideas for my pet, I returned to watching what was going on. Little Morph brought his opponent's life points down roughly to a level equal to his own, and returned to the ground. However, at this point his form was continually changing. At one time, he would grow a large paw, and another - a long tail, and then he was jumping behind his opponent’s back, becoming almost invisible by changing his coat to a sand color. Slasher proved to be very capable, and quickly adapted to Morph’s fighting style. The end of the fight could be considered a draw.

  The life of both pets was in the red zone when we had to finish the fight. After being shouted at by the big Orc, the young warrior returned, accompanied by the Shaman, who had created a large storm cloud over his own head, which he slowly moved towards us:

  — You will go to the feast at once, or I'll toast you alive here and now.

  Rarou and I decided that the feast was many times more appealing, so we followed the Shaman along with our happy pets.

  CHAPTER 28:

  AN HONORED GUEST

  In the morning after the feast, my head was throbbing in pain. The Orcs’ booze was excellent. It tasted like malt whiskey, but I thought that it was at least ten percent more potent than the normal one. Since the feast was arranged in my honor, I had to drink a lot and often. It was a good thing that the table was bursting with food, including many varieties of meat, so that at least I wasn’t drinking on an empty stomach. True, it hadn’t smelt of herbs and spices: all the meat was simply skewered on a spit and hung over a fire, and so were the vegetables.

  I crawled out of my hut, having been awaken by the howls of my new-found brother, and I asked him:

  — Why are you shouting so loud at this time of the morning?!

  Rarou’s muzzle broke into a grin:

  — What, do you have a hangover?

  — Don’t ask! Do you not have one?

  — Not anymore, — the leader's voice sounded so loud that I had to grab my head.

  — Wow, you are a mess, — the Shaman appeared from nowhere and appeared to be sympathetic. — Hold on and take this, — he handed me a compressed piece of something that I had never come across before. — Chew it and you will feel better in no time.

  I quickly grabbed the remedy and started chewing on it. Truly, as soon as I finished it, the hangover was gone.

  — What on earth is that? — I looked with surprise at the grinning couple in front of me.

  — It’s our tribe’s secret recipe, — the Shaman laughed.

  — And, to be honest, the most protected recipe, — my brother sighed.

  — We won’t tell you how it’s made or what it’s made out of, but we'll give enough supply of it for the road. — The Shaman winked at me.

  — Time to get back to training, — Rarou said enthusiastically. — I won’t let you leave until you master your sword, because no tricks and abilities will save you if you don’t possess the basic skills.

  …I spent almost two full months in the tribe, and managed to get to know each and every one of the Orcs. My Copper Wing and Little Morph became firm favorites of the Orc children. All the training sessions were divided into groups. The first one was dedicated to the use of the sword. At the same time, my mentors trained me in different combat scenarios against one and two swords. In the first case, the main emphasis was on the technique of sword skills, and in the second - on the accuracy of movement and the speed of attacks.

  Then there was the training of my pets, which my Totem was joining with pleasure. On the very first day of training, Rarou found out from me that the signs were used to communicate and give instructions to Little Morph. He was enthusiastic to learn such a skill for himself, but he was unable to do so.

  The Shaman, after observing the learning process, decided to put an end to our torment.

  You haven’t become a Master yet, have you? — He asked.

  — I have not, — I agreed. — I developed this ability myself recently, and am now only at the initial level of a Craftsman.

  — Until you become a Master, you can’t take on a student.

  Rarou sighed in disappointment:

  — It takes a long time for a Craftsman to become a Master.

  The Shaman waved him off.

  — This is an ability he created himself, and with practice, he will get there in a couple of months. — Said the Shaman.

  After that, I constantly communicated that way. Actually, this was the reason why I stayed there for two months. After a week of training, it turned out that Rarou was also a strategist, and then we started a new kind of training. We took a platoon of warriors each, and were set a number of tactical game scenarios. Seeing our new type of training, the Shaman booted his young students over to us. Even Rarou somehow agreed with my pets, and they helped him to train all the pets of the tribe on how to confront flying enemies. Naturally, I was just “supporting” Little Morph, who was gaining combat experience and self-confidence; meanwhile, it seemed that my Copper Wing was having the time of his life.

  All this time, while Rarou was dealing with my pets, I was spending time advancing my Seeker ability, and in this I was helped by the two best trackers in the tribe: Angryfang and Yellowear. They took me to different parts of the desert, showed me tracks, burrows and much more. They talked about the habits of the local indigenous peoples. Next to them, I felt like a beginner. Not only could they find tracks, but they could also read them. They could tell what the creature had done, where it had gone, and why it had come here in the first place. They didn’t just look at the tracks, but also how deep they were, and checked out marks or indentations surrounding the tracks, to find out even more information.

  At the same time, my Seeker ability was helping to increase my Scout ability. Both of my colleagues were very happy when they found out that I had this ability, but they refused to say why. They only said that it was very important and that I must bring my Scout ability up to the level of Craftsman at least. Well, if that’s what I needed to do, then I would do it.

  My request to help me with the “Silent Step” and “Easy Onslaught” abilities put a smile on the faces of both pathfinders.

  — We have the innate racial skills of Orcs, and you lack our abilities, but perhaps we can help you. — They told me.

  It so happened that there was a creature in the desert resembling a cross between an ostrich and a peacock, with very beautiful and resplendently expensive feathers. This creature was incredibly shy. I had to sharpen my abilities by hunting this bird, while ninety per cent of the income from the feathers I collected went to my Mentors, and only every tenth penny went to me. Well, yes, complaining was a sin: however, the advice and recommendations of these experienced warriors really helped me. Well, there was little I could do about the fact that these bastards arranged free entertainment for themselves at my expense.

  In the evening, when we returned, I cooked a dish for the whole tribe, in addition to the usual rations of the Orcs. The local chef was just a worker and soaked up my knowledge like a sponge. Orcs were unpretentious when it came to food, but a pinch of herbs thrown into the soup could make it ten times more delicious and add a nice bonus to life points or protection. As every Orc knew, even a small bonus in combat could decide the outcome in one direction or another. Therefore, my culinary creativity became highly popular, and the chef even got a pair of young assistants who wanted to be as good as him. So, as soon as he reaches the level of Master Chef, the students would be queuing up.

  The cook’s name was Slyunar. He praised me as if I was a demigod, and promised me that one day he would thank me properly. When I first arrived at the tribe, the chef was the lowest in rank: anyone could fry meat over a fire, some could do it well, and some could not. I showed him how to
cook tasty food, and by doing this I changed the opinion of the tribe about cooks in general and about Slyunar in particular.

  My departure was destined for the next day, so this day Rarou decided to arrange a training battle between us in full strength.

  Well, what could I say? A full-strength duel with the leader of the tribe of Orcs was nothing to joke about. It was clear that my experience with swords had grown, and my abilities had also improved. But at the same time, Rarou hadn’t been biding his time, and my blood brother's skills were no less than mine. After 10 minutes, I found myself lying on my back and watching the grinning face of the Orc, but in fact, I didn’t give a damn, and my happy smirk made the victor slightly nervous.

  — Did I miss something? — Rarou felt his back cautiously. — Do I have a poison dart somewhere? You don’t use poison like that, do you?

  — I don’t use it, — I nodded in agreement.

  — Then why are you just lying there, smiling? — The Orc was indignant. — You lost!

  —Yes, I did, — I nodded again, like a joyful idiot. I felt like keeping the winner in suspense was like a balm to the soul, and it made me happy.

  — Then what makes you so happy that you weren’t even upset about losing, and that, in spite of that, you won’t be able to win one back in the near future?

  — Ah, now there is the question!

  I decided to take pity on my friend and read out the message to him:

  The Moon Flower has reached the final stage of development. Manna: 30%. The Moon Flower has evolved and will now gradually strengthen your clothes.

  Shirt - converted into “Moon Doublet”.

  Your pants have been transformed into “Moon Leggings”.

  The hidden quest “Moonlight-II” was completed - the Moon Flower reached the third stage of its development. The reward is a “Moon Bandana”.

  “Moon Doublet”, “Moon Leggings” and “Moon Bandana” all form the “Moon Armor”: each of the items of armor absorbs 1% of any damage inflicted to you and at the end of each battle gives a 25% chance to incidentally increase the defense or resistance to one of the types of damage received during the last battle.