“Actually, you are the one who showed up! Even more so – crashed in when no one was expecting you!” Despite the sarcasm I demonstrated, I was actually glad to see Gromana. I needed a source of information, and I also needed to meet that mysterious being.”
“Like hell I need your jokes! Why did you take so long?” Gromana was as straightforward as a rock falling on your head.
“I was busy. But your timing was good. I was about to try and find you anyway.” I was not lying in the least. Well, not much, anyway. I had been planning to visit Gromana immediately after several pleasant hours with Helen.
“I hope this is not the reason why you were so busy.” The witch nodded dismissively in the direction of my Doll.
“Yaropolk, should I leave?” Helen started worrying again.
“Shut up.” The witch grimaced in displeasure and waved her hand, sending the Doll into a trance.
“Another one. What did she do to you? You know, sometimes I think that you simply use your ‘curse of truth’ as an excuse for your natural rudeness and tactlessness,” I grinned. “No, you missed your guess; here’s the reason.”
With those words I thrusted my chest forward, showing off my new armor. Why not? I had a good reason to boast. Let the weak ones be modest.
“I had already noticed. My congratulations!” The witch bowed mockingly, and I responded in kind by flinging up my hands:
“Oh, thank you very much! It’s so nice when people appreciate your abilities as they should!”
“Yeah, right: boast your abilities to me‒ go on! For what kind of feat did the Viceroy present you with the armor? Maybe you don’t even need to see Bernard anymore? Eh, Paladin?” Gromana was staring at me suspiciously.
“You should not be the one complaining, witch. I was not the one who graced a poor Paladin with ten granises so that you and a thousand hunters could see his every move. Right, Gromana?”
“You found out already.” The witch grew quiet for a moment, but then flared up again. “Had you come to me in time, that would not have been a problem. Anyway, Yari! Forget about that! What was the reward for?”
I snorted disdainfully indicating that the witch was not getting an answer.
“Whatever. It’s time to go, Bernard is waiting. He’ll be the one to appreciate your abilities as they deserve to be appreciated for sure.” The witch rose from the table, indicating that the conversation was over. She cast a glance at Helen and added:
“Leave the doll here, she’ll find you later. You understand: that’s not a place for things like that.”
I let the last statement go, knowing this was not a good place or time to argue.
The witch turned away and activated a local green portal with her hand. I was already familiar with the distinctions: green ones were local, enabling you to jump a couple of kilometers, the blue ones were global – they extended further, sometimes to different worlds; as for the red ones: I knew nothing about them yet.
“Gromana, you don’t think that I’ll go anywhere without an oath, right?” I asked the witch calmly. “I have no idea where this portal leads. Come on, my caring dear, call the Game to witness that you are not plotting anything evil against me and that if I chose to do so I would be able to return to the Sanctuary unhindered after talking to Bernard.
“That’s reasonable.” The witch hesitated, yet complied with my condition. I waited till the white light washed over her, then left the tip and ordered Helen, who was still sitting like a statue, to go home. I cast another glance at the Doll, with whom I was frustratingly unable to advance, and followed Gromana.
The local portal was set to the maximum distance possible outside of the Sanctuary. The moment I appeared in the normal world, all hell broke loose around me. Someone quickly pushed me down under the force dome, yet six lightning bolts still hit on the armor. The Daro set worked without a glitch: it absorbed all of them.
“All clear!” During the moment while I was rising to my feet it was all over. The dome was gone and I found myself surrounded by armed fighters, carefully scanning the surroundings with their eyes and in every other way available. A necromancer, a rogue, a couple of warriors; hunters and some from classes unknown to me‒ this motley crew seemed to have just about everybody. Like the Viceroy’s servants, they were wearing an emblem on their right shoulders: three thick spirals originating from the same point at an angle of 120 degrees to each other. The Book of Knowledge told me the name for this symbol: triskelion.
“I have removed the markers. Let’s go, we’re getting visitors real soon!”
Carefully to the extent that was possible at all in this melee, they took me by my arms and brought me to the next portal. Then another. And another. After each leg of the journey the escort team scanned the area, waited for about ten seconds, then made the next leap.
“We made it just in time!” One of the fighters turned his helmet transparent, and it turned out to be Gromana. Her armor class easily transformed from a silk dress into a full chainmail outfit. “We barely grabbed you from the hands of Volt and his cutthroats. Just a little longer and you would have been sitting in the Citadel until your own people would sell you out. Yari‒ give me back the ten granises. We need to take the 'terror' off you.”
I did not want to part with such a huge amount of money, and the witch noticed it:
“You will receive a huge amount of knowledge that you would not be able to buy with those ten granises. Yari, enough of this silliness! We have just a couple of minutes before they find you, and then we’ll have to start that race all over again!”
Common sense overcame greed and I became ten granises poorer, to Gromana’s relief:
“Shal, open the portal home. He doesn’t stand out any more.”
“Home” turned out to be a huge private residence; some castles would pale in comparison. The architecture inspired awe, and clearly indicated the social distance between the owner of this miracle and a commoner such as myself. Hiding under the mask of indifference so as not to look like a country bumpkin allowed for the first time into a "big house”, my eyes glided over the aerial fish dancing intricately in the air; I calmly glanced at the unbelievable beauty of an incredible living hedge that moved freely within its area… Oh Great Game, it really WAS alive! Say, one day you will be tired from the rat race of life and decide to take a break in the peace and quiet of nature… and you would sit and look at the hedge… and the hedge would look back at you… with the millions of its curious eyes on every leaf. Or, say, you have a private tryst with a lady… Brrrr! To hell with that!
“Ladies and gentlemen, please follow me.” The torture, with its miracles borne of someone’s sick imagination, was finally over, and a butler came towards us. “The master is ready to meet with you.”
Agreed, a common butler would not be good enough for a place like that; however, a vampire with a dark cloud over his head instead of a parasol was just the ticket! A dream of millions of NPC girls in my old world: handsome, tall, dark-haired, white-skinned and with fangs. As far as I cared, the most important thing was that he was polite.
“Earth has had many interesting Game plots,” Gromana said, noticing my interest in the vampire. "For example, in 2007 there was a local quest held here; vampires won the contest. As winners, they chose a curious reward. Garbital, the head of the vampires, decided to make the race more popular. To make them more prestigious, so to speak. Books, films and thorough brain-washing created a whole generation of brainless morons whose only desire was to become vampires. A generation of blighted idiots. On the other hand, what else could you expect of NPCs?”
“That’s funny,” I smirked, recalling the vampire sagas that were a fad at some point. “Wait, but as far as I remember that vampire hysteria lasted only a couple of years. Then it was replaced by dystopia – all those ‘chosen against the system’ etc, etc. Before that Tolkien fans were all the rage.”
“It’s possible. Different events are initiated throughout the Game just about every mo
nth, so it’s hard to follow everything. So there is no surprise that they are forgotten as soon as someone else wins the next quest. Someone has to be ahead.” Gromana shrugged.
“Over here, please.” It was not the custom in Bernard’s residence to use teleports, so we ended up walking up to the huge massive building. Having made sure that we followed him, the vampire added: “If you don’t mind, I could clarify. You are right‒ our race did not start this popularization of ideas. This method of altering popular perceptions is widely used. Those whom you called Tolkien fans were aiming to extol elves and gnomes, while showing people and orcs as weak and dim. We had to share the fame with shape-shifters, who were our allies in the quest you mentioned. Dystopia, as you call it, became popular after the victory of the gyrdannes. The thing is that there were mass revolts at the time in their clan against the ruling elite; so that’s the origin of all those slogans: ‘Down with Social Inequality!’ ‘Power to the People’ ‘Destroy the System! But they are fading into oblivion now as well: preparation is underway for a new local event planned for next year. We are going to see an invasion.”
“Oh! Now it’s clear that my presence here is not accidental!” Gromana stopped, struck by the news. “Soluna must have known what was coming, so that’s why she selected Earth! Who are going to be in it?”
“The choice will be held on January first. The options are already known though: either nernians or vances”.
“Space aliens or zombies.” Gromana was contemplating. “Whatever‒ that’s even more interesting.
The vampire nodded and stopped in front of the entrance to a gazebo, which was our destination. I grinned to myself – I wonder when I will reach a point at which I am seen at least in the entrance hall of the house? Or maybe they hold all meetings in gazebos here to prevent their silver cutlery from disappearing?
The owner of the residence was standing in the gazebo with his back to us, enjoying the view of the garden in bloom. Hearing our steps, he turned around, and we had a chance to look at him. Human. He looked about fifty, but it could be that the grey beard made him look older. His loose clothes hid his class, but not his good physical shape. Smooth movements, the grasping stare of brown eyes. Bernard gave the impression of a respectable and distinguished man.
“Welcome, Yaropolk!” Bernard said. He had a pleasant low voice that resonated throughout the gazebo. “A pleasure to meet you. Have a seat. We have some things to talk about.”
The vampire extracted three soft armchairs and a small table out of the air. A moment later servants were fussing around us setting the table. The host sat down first, nodding to Gromana and myself at the other chairs:
“As host, I would like to introduce myself first. Coordinator for sector 446, nobleman by birth, Bernard Kalran at your service.
“It sounds very impressive!” I responded, but my curiosity egged me on, and I decided not to hold it back. “But I would be even more impressed and would very much appreciate it if you could tell me what those sectors are and what their coordinators do. Is this a title that indicates how cool its owner is, or is it the same as calling a janitor a ‘cleaning manager’? Believe me, I don’t want to offend you; it’s just that I have certain gaps in my knowledge. I really like Gromana’s curse in this respect. Why hide behind fancy words things that can be asked directly?”
“Well, your frankness is quite engaging, and your age accounts for a lot.” Bernard smiled in a fatherly way. “Besides, if one were to choose between hypocrisy and harsh truth, I’d choose the latter. The Game space is divided into sectors; the coordinator is in charge of developing his sector, and of relations with neighboring ones. To make it easier for you, it’s like President of the Earth and another three game worlds. Is this impressive enough for you?”
“Impressive does not even begin to cover it,” I answered honestly, noting that this time I was way over my head.
“You don’t seem to be too pleased,” Bernard said pursing his lips; apparently that was not the reaction he expected.
“Well, you know, when a fresh graduate of the Academy is invited by a sector coordinator to talk, it makes you think about what’s in store for you. ‘Beware of masters, they will cause you trouble any day’.” Once again I was not trying to cover myself with pleasantries.
“Well, your concern is understandable.” The velvet and care faded from Bernard’s voice, and he instantly turned from a kind uncle into someone accustomed to giving orders. “Everything will depend on you. You give me the Diary and tell me everything you know about restart. Lying or hiding something would not make sense, I would feel that. Afterwards, if I have no questions, Gromana will see you to the Sanctuary, and I will make sure that everyone forgets about you. Otherwise you have to understand that your life will be very short once you return. At this stage only my interest in you has protected you from headhunters and prevented them from sending you into respawn cycle till final death. Someone else would find the Diary later. So, do you agree?”
I did not have any real choice; just like any other creature, I wanted to live. If not long, then at least happily. It was beyond my power to stop restart anyway:
“I agree.”
“Smart boy. Diary,” Bernard stretched out his hand.
The ubiquitous butler appeared next to me, and extended his hand to take the Diary. Perhaps handing anything over directly was prohibited, so I did not bother to argue or protest. Realizing that I would never see the Diary again, I held onto it for a moment. Maybe it was for the better: this was the price of my safety, so I was prepared to pay it.
A fraction of a second later, the butler placed the Diary in his master’s hand. Before Bernard was even able to close his fingers around it, his eyes rolled and his body arched. I grabbed the arms of the chair tighter, not sure what was going on. Straightening up sharply, the coordinator for sector 446 was staring at me, his hair ruffled, his eyes turning as red as an albino’s. I felt uneasy.
“YOOOOUUUU!!! I GOOOOOOT IIIIT!! I WAAAAITED FOR SOOOOOO LOOOONG!!!!” Bernard’s voice had also changed so that it became practically unrecognizable. He hissed and spat. I pushed myself deeper back into the armchair.
“I CAME BACK TO GO AWAY, AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!!!!! DEATH!!! DEATH IS SALVATION!!!” the host kept raving. Gromana jumped as if something had bitten her and began quickly rummaging through her bag, saying quietly:
“Wait, wait, wait…”
Bernard turned around and stretched a hand to her in a jerky movement:
“FREAK! YOU WILL DIE!!! NOW!!!” He was screaming at Gromana now.
Finally the witch grabbed some small object out of her bag and threw it precisely at Bernard:
“We will all die some day, but not now, not today. Bernard, come back!”
The white thing turned out to be a small animal that climbed up the man’s body and sank its teeth into his neck. A shudder ran through the coordinator’s body, and he slumped like a broken doll. His arms dropped listlessly and the Diary fell out of his hands onto the floor with a loud thump. A moment passed in tense waiting, and finally Bernard drew air heavily and opened his eyes. I did not know what that little white thing did, but it returned the Bernard I had already met to the gazebo. In his right mind and sane. He stared at Gromana angrily, making her cringe, and I perked up my ears, hoping to figure out what all that was about.
“What took you so long?”
Gromana was embarrassed; she dropped her head. Meanwhile the white animal returned to the witch and disappeared into her bag:
“Forgive me, Bernard; it was my fault. You have had no fits for so long that I had relaxed. Now I will always be on guard.”
The man did not respond; his eyes traveled to the book lying nearby:
“Yaropolk, pick up the Diary!”
I was surprised, and decided that now was a good time to say something:
“Why me? I thought our agreement was different.”
“The deal is off. I changed my mind.” Our host said with finality, witho
ut batting an eye. “You will leave the premises as my underling, or you won’t leave at all. This is not a threat; I am just stating the facts.”
I stared at Gromana inquisitively; she just shrugged her shoulders, as if to say that her word carried no weight here and her oath to me had nothing to do with it. My internal voice still refused to call my situation desperate. There were reasons for that. Redel had clearly indicated that Judges without protectors in the Game are under clear and present threat of death. While previously I had considered approaching Gerhard or Iven, everything else paled before my option with the sector coordinator. With a protector like him I would be able to breathe easy. I never signed up to be a hero. But! Before promising anything I needed to consult a specialist.
“I need all information on vassalage in the Game. Obligations and duties of both parties. First and foremost: the possibility of revoking the vassal oath. I will have to make a choice that will change my fate.”
An instant later a system message on admission to the Temple of Knowledge appeared in front of me.
“Congratulations, young Judge.” The keeper of knowledge greeted me as if I were family. “Your Luck keeps working for you. Bernard Kalran is a powerful and fair protector.”
Now I felt like the main character in “The Truman Show”.
“I wish I knew what I was getting into,” I hemmed. “And that’s my question to you.”
“The answer to it is in this scroll. Study it.”
As I supposed, vassalage did not bring anything irrevocable. First of all the liege lord, suzerain or, as Bernard preferred to call himself, "protector", is obligated to arm, feed, keep and pay his vassals, who served him as company or as bodyguards. Actually, there was no threat of the latter happening to me. Bodyguards in the Game were a special cohort of NPCs or players, and I definitely had nothing to do with it. The unpleasant part was that I would be in Bernard’s full service. In addition to the normal requirements like “do not kill” and “do not betray” I would be obligated, at my suzerain’s whim, to serve him at table, follow him everywhere, and in case there was some skirmish I would be the first to go to respawn or die, protecting my boss with my life. The relations between us would be sealed with a voluntary oath; it would assign me to my protector’s “house”; there would also be an emblem on my armor letting everyone know who was backing me. In case I decided to leave Bernard, I would need to hand him, in person, a thirty-day written “notice”. It obviously implied that my main task during those remaining days would be survival, but that did not concern me now. The good part was that I was not obligated to open my pockets to him, nor tell him all my secrets. A vassal retained a certain degree of personal freedom, which was definitely an advantage.
The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 13
