Helen was sitting in the garden playing with the pet, oblivious to the outside world. Noticeably grown Rragr was jumping over a stick and babbling something. Having noticed me, the girl waved her hand in greeting.
“Three hairs in the seventh lock of her hair on the right do not belong to the Doll.” My assistant woke up. “The artifacts are highlighted.”
A strand of Helen’s hair flashed red.
“Master took care to have a portable tracking device installed on your Doll.” The vampire saw concern on my face and hastened to explain. “For the first several years players tend to be very worried for the safety and current location of their property. Master does not want you to be distracted with such trifles. I will help you set up the communication device.”
A few minutes later I approached the playing pair. Rragr reacted with a warning growl, but received a slight slap on the butt for it from his “mom”. Responding with a puzzled stare he sniffled, offended, but completely refused to leave her arms.
“Observed: psychological attachment of the pet to the Doll.” Steve continued working: “The process of pet transfer has been initiated and within several days will become complete and irreversible. To preserve attachment to you it is necessary to immediately remove the pet and reset its mind.”
“No, thanks, you are enough of a pet for me,” I grinned silently to myself. I had no time to work with the pet now, and hiding it in its virtual shelter long-term was not too good of an option either. Helen was the ideal girl for me, and the best solution for the pet or rather for leveling the pet up. However, I decided to clarify with my resident know-it-all: “If I were to reject the Doll, and the Game erased her, what would happen to the pet?”
“It would revert to the initial owner at its then current level of development.” I heard the answer that satisfied me.
“Hi!” I smiled at Helen and she immediately demonstrated impressive skills of controlling the pet, deactivating it with a wave of her hand. “I think now is just the right time for us to repeat our attempt and have some coffee.”
The next day I finally spent resting in the Sanctuary, allowing myself to relax both my body and mind. Helen really was ideal for me in every way. I supposed that this was what a person would feel when he met his other half. As if a puzzle fit together. We enjoyed every second of each other’s company. In the evening I decided to leave the hotel for a bit, take a stroll around the city and talk to Helen. I was pleasantly surprised, realizing she was able to maintain any conversation on culture, fashion, films, and other things that I was used to while I was still an NPC. It was true – I missed Moscow and all those things that had been part of my life. We even talked about the Game. Some things the Doll knew from the point she was created; some things I had to clarify. Actually, those things were rather few: the Game took care to ensure the Doll would bring its player only pleasure and not trouble. Spending time with Helen was easy and pleasant. Watching her I was still an explorer. It was lucky that I was thus able to explore myself, as the Doll was the mirror of my needs as a man. And sex was not the point there. It’s hard to understand what you expect of a woman in a relationship. For example, my sensitivity to praise was a revelation to me. Yet I practically purred when Helen subtly admired me in one way or another, or praised me for even the most ordinary things. Apparently, this is very inspiring.
Despite all the pleasures of the relationship I had discovered, I decided against bringing Helen to the estate with me. It would be better if she settled in our apartment in Moscow and worked on making it a better place. Handing her the keys and some money for a start, and instructing her to develop Rragr, I was leaving Helen feeling completely satisfied. Both physically and spiritually. Practically before activating the portal to the estate I recalled the Judge’s task. It would not be right to leave the Sanctuary without closing all my cases.
Case received: “Stolen Pendant” (Slots available for: 8 more cases). Description: Sophie Lecleur, granddaughter of Lady Marie Lecleur, filed a complaint because the “Pendant of Joy” was stolen from the family safe. Suspects: None. Clues: None. Task: Investigate the case and deliver your verdict on it
Case investigation: 0%
Period of limitation of action: 1 month
My spark of enthusiasm at playing a detective fizzled. Malturion had warned me that the quest to find the pendant had been issued to all players graduating from the Academy in the last ten batches. On top of that there was this far from unique task from the Judge and the fact that I was still supposed to be sent to respawn for making a mistake in judgment. All that would result in quite a royal pain in my armored backside. Right now the Lecleur estate would most likely be hell on Earth. It would be stupid to hope that under those circumstances the triskelion emblem on my shoulder would stop anyone.
For an instant the portal turned the space around me into a kaleidoscope, only to reassemble it into a glum gray medieval castle, surrounded by a multicolored lively tent city. The players were so numerous that there was not enough space for everyone. A long winding line of those willing to try their luck at locating the lost jewelry stretched towards the main gate.
“You a new one?” A plump member of the local servants jumped out in front of me like a jack-in-the-box. He stared at his tablet, then said: “You need to register. Your number is 1,321. Approximate waiting time is seven days.
I sighed in indignation. I was rather fed up with all those registrations. What week?! I was busy up to my gills! Finally the NPC tore his eyes from the tablet and looked at me disinterestedly, waiting for me to answer. As soon as his glance reached Bernard’s emblem, the servant immediately stood to attention to the extent his belly would allow.
“Sorry, Milord! Pardon my natural inattentiveness, Milord! I will immediately see you to the estate, Milord! Please follow me!”
I liked the reaction to my suzerain’s emblem. I was calmly walking towards the entrance, passing by the queue and not in the least insulted by the nasty monikers hurled at my back. Shame on those who envy!
“Where you think you’re going? Get in line like everyone else!” About twenty yards before the gate a huge red-skinned orc blocked my way. “It’s not right honor getting ahead of everyone!”
“Paladin, Zharkee set armor, three visible amulets, two gems, one engraving, no suzerain’s emblem, chosen artifact is a sword; presumable place of origin – game world Zagransh; in case of conflict caution is advised,” Steve immediately provided me with all the background of the obstacle that had appeared so suddenly. Great, another champion of justice and knight of the Light.
“Brother, step aside,” I responded calmly to the Paladin. “I am here on the personal directive of Milord Iven.”
I was not running much of a risk using such a lofty name as cover. It would be impossible to accuse me of lying: Iven really did send me off out of sight.
“Who?” The orc did not move an inch; his question confirmed Steve’s supposition that he was from afar. For the local Paladins Iven was too important a person to not know of him. Quickly assessing the situation and the frowning orc, I realized that unless I made this champion of justice shut up somehow right away I would risk a respawn before I even had a chance to start my search. The players would be happy to cut me into ribbons as a crowd so that I would not try to cut the line. No armor would help against that. Weighing my prospects, I sighed and said solemnly:
“Paladin from Earth, Yaropolk, is glad to greet a brave Paladin from Zagransh on Earth. It’s a special pleasure for me to meet Logir’s compatriot here. Valiant Paladin, did you happen to know this highly honorable femorc?”
“Sure, she’s Grygz’s daughter,” the orc was taken aback by hearing a familiar name. His pose became less tense, which I interpreted as a good sign. Apparently, the old teacher was well respected on Zagransh. “How you know her?”
“Oh, I was lucky to go through the Academy shoulder to shoulder with her and see her valiance and courage first hand. It’s such a pity that the mages and th
e Game took the most worthy. She always extended a helping hand in time of need.” The orc’s face fell and he hung his head sadly. I even felt sympathy for him. Of course, I would not play poker with him‒his emotions were immediately obvious‒ yet I found that cute and attractive. There were few players within the Game who were so open, yet unafraid to put their head on the line to fight for justice regardless of consequences and the strength of their opponent. “What is your name, brother? And how long have you been waiting here?”
“Alard. Waiting for five days. By evening should be in. Will buy myself a room, get some sleep and start looking in the morning. Three days should be enough. Have a tracker!” He grinned meaningfully, causing protesting noises among the players standing nearby. Steve immediately commented:
“A device for finding treasures and hidden objects. A scanner; an advanced version was used by the mercenaries in the Dungeon. Rare object; unavailable for purchase at open auction.”
“That’s impressive! But why only three days?” I was surprised.
“Everyone is only allowed for three days; if you fail – get out.”
“In that case there is no time to lose,” I liked the orc’s pride for his device so much that it made me feel like helping my brother in class. I nodded at the Paladin, introducing him to my escort: “This one is with me. Alard, you are ok with accompanying me, right?”
“Have to wait in line,” the orc frowned immediately. “All wait, we have to wait. That’s fair!”
“Is it fair, however, to make poor Madame Lecleur worry about the thing she lost?” I would not give up. To some extent I was doing it just for the fun of it. Would I be able to convince the orc to yield his principles or no? “A true Paladin must help a weak being in time of need using every opportunity to do so! Or do you believe differently? Tell me now! I am sure, Logir would support me in this.”
The orc’s face betrayed his confusion. The Paladin’s lips moved as if he were arguing with his inner voice concerning this situation; finally, he made his decision:
“Brother Yaropolk, you are right! Let’s hasten to help!”
At the entrance to the castle our escort whispered something to the guards, pointing at my emblem, and one of them immediately dashed into the booth visible beyond the gate.
“Just a moment,” the fat servant mumbled obsequiously. A well-dressed man with a funny pointed nose strolled out of the booth. The feathers on the wide-brimmed hat were supposed to conceal their owner’s defect, but they were not really doing the job. Casting an owner’s glance over the castle’s inner courtyard, the man approached us in a dignified manner.
“Milord.” He bowed his head slightly. “Herald Sleevan, a minion of the Lecleur family, at your service. How shall I announce you to Lady Sophie?”
“Paladin Yaropolk, vassal of Lord Bernard, with a friend.” Since the title of my suzerain impressed everyone so much, that would probably be the best way to introduce myself.
The herald turned towards the players and announced in the voice enhanced with magic:
“The visitation is over for today!”
The queue exploded in indignant rumbles, and I felt with my very skin the waves of hatred emanating from the crows towards me. Of course, one would have to be a total idiot to fail to identify the culprit of all the trouble here. I did not feel any pangs of conscience, though. Perhaps my allegiance to Darkness was affecting my character.
“What do you mean – over?” The hunter who was first in line expressed his indignation more loudly than the rest. “You just started a little while ago!”
“It’s over because I said it’s over! There are no free rooms!” Sleevan was adamant. “Come tomorrow!”
“You are bloody mad!” The unlucky hunter kept screaming. The guards were slowly pushing everyone outside the gate, and this made the player even angrier. “Blasted Paladin, I’ve been sitting here for three days! I’ll have to lose another day because of you! Don’t touch me! Get your paws off me!”
“Hunter, initial set of armor, no visible amulets, no emblem, chosen artifact is a bow; no danger in case of conflict.”
“That’s what I was saying too. That’s wrong. No honor in that,” Alard wanted to back off, but that was not part of my plan. The guards already had taken all the players out except the raging hunter. I attracted the herald’s attention and nodded at the player:
“Let him go. No need to raise a ruckus.”
“Is he also with you?” I was surprised to hear irony in Sleevan’s voice.
“With me, with me.” There was nothing I could do other than agree to that. I thought to myself in a sort of pun: “Seems as though I am becoming too soft. That’s a sign I am in for some hard times.”
“Unfortunately, Milord, we really do have only one guest room available. It is a double room. You will have to stay there together. All three of you.”
Once more I noted to myself that the herald was strange. He behaved in a manner too assertive for a servant. He did not try to ingratiate upon seeing my emblem, did not apologize for the inconvenience which would be expected. He simply stated a fact.
“Hunter, did you hear that?” I shouted to the now quiet player, who was listening to our conversation as best he could. “Either you go with us today but sleep on the floor, or you get out and wait for comfortable accommodations tomorrow.”
“Let go of me already,” the hunter jerked, getting out of the tight hold of the guards. “I heard! I agree to wait on the floor today until I get a more comfortable room tomorrow. It’s better to sleep with you rather than take part in one more deadly orgy with those morons.”
“What do you mean?” I did not understand any of that.
“The tent city,” Alard came to the aid of our newly acquired partner. “In the evening a crowd of mummers come. Trash and burn everything. Kill the players. Call up the dead. Teacher says it’s normal. That it’s not too bad. That one has to endure. But argh!” The orc even stomped his foot with feeling. “That’s wrong! No honor! Especially when no one can fight back! I tried; it didn’t work. And they don’t beat on everyone‒ bastards! Those who have protection they don’t touch. But the rest… argh!”
“How many times were you killed?” I frowned. The orc’s reaction was telling.
“Five. Three times the first night. Wanted to fight, ran straight here after spawning, but no use.”
“I would like to point out, Milord, that the Lecleur family has nothing to do with this incident, and totally condemns it,” Sleevan clarified, just in case. “The violators have been blacklisted and are not allowed within the estate.”
“Fine. We’ll see in the evening what kind of mummers wander around here. I do hope that Madame Sophie will not limit me and my companions to three days of stay?”
“I am sure that you will be allowed to stay as long as you need. Please follow me. Your arrival has already been announced.”
The inner courtyard of the castle was decorated, in great contrast to its grey stone walls. Actually, the decoration was in line with what a common average person would normally expect of a feudal medieval castle: the most important thing in the décor would be that it should look rich and expensive; therefore there were plenty of elaborate marble columns, snow-white ancient sculptures, fountains finished in gold, as well as players, out of place and moving everywhere. The estate was full of life and colors. I was ready to see the hosts in yet another gazebo so I was infinitely surprised to find myself next to the main building of the ensemble. Imperturbable and well-trained guards threw open the massive doors, so that a moment later we could join the players in the minor reception hall.
“Paladin Yaropolk with companions!” The herald’s enhanced voice boomed across the hall, riveting everyone’s attention to us. Mizardine – that was the hunter’s name – and Alard stepped back, leaving me at the head of our group.
“I am glad to welcome you to Mother’s home, monsieur Yaropolk!” The crowd parted and we were honored by the Lady of the Castle personally.
Lady Lecleur was a luscious woman slightly over forty. The “slightly” part could equally well have been one year or fifty, since game mechanics could do really strange things with NPCs. Madame Sophie was not a player. “Our family is always happy to see people of Master Bernard. How do you like our estate?”
“It’s very impressive,” I replied politely, introducing my companions to Sophie and adding: “One thing is a little uncomfortable though: the huge crowd.”
Oh, Monsieur Yaropolk!” The red-haired hostess waived her hands in the air. “I am already regretting asking for help! So what is the big deal if a pendant is lost! But no: Maman is so upset it makes me feel bad in front of the neighbors. There was so much ado‒ as if it were the last piece of jewelry in our family. And so many players showed up; the only way to have any privacy is in one’s personal rooms!”
The hostess was not so simple. If the NPC were aware that everything around it was the Game, I would have to suppose that she was a minion. Would be nice to also understand the class.
“I was forced to cut the duration of stay for these guests to three days. But you, of course, don’t have to worry about that! The estate is at your service. I hope this nightmare will be over soon.” As she was sighing with concern, Sophie fluttered off to greet the next group.
“Where shall we start?” I did not waste any time, turned to my companions and sighed heavily. Right behind them my personal Game curse was standing, and waving her hand in welcome. Dolgunata.
“With the introductions, of course,” the druid smirked, and raked my companions with an assessing stare. Seeing nothing of interest for herself, she quickly switched to me. “Even though – no, don’t bother. I think these ones won’t hang around you too long either. Every time I run into you I see new faces. You are simply amazingly fickle. Men! What else could one expect from them!”
The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 15
