I couldn't tell if the Princess was speaking with reproach or not but, in any case, I hurried to answer the furry girl:
“Yes, we cut down the first small group, but that was just scouts before the main invasion. So said our prisoner. The main forces of the undying are supposed to come to the fortress tonight, which was why we started that huge fire where they should be showing up. For some time, the devastating flame really will hold back the enemies, but it won’t stop their inevitable invasion. The undying will come no matter what, and there will be lots of them!”
The Rougarou huntress clearly wasn’t taking me seriously enough, because she answered carelessly that the Clan of the White Lily was not afraid of low-down undying. The warriors of her clan were many and brave. They were prepared to die for their Princess, and would never retreat. I didn't try to convince her otherwise, seeing how we'd arrived at our destination. The boat touched the mucky bottom and gradually came to a stop. At that very moment, the Princess gracefully hopped ashore and disappeared into wisps of white fog. Following the princess, all of her bodyguards also left the boat, even the oarsmen, taking the oars and leaving me all alone.
I took a look around as much as I could in the dense fog. The gentle slope of the shore reeked of ooze and rotting river plants. The smell was so strong that it seemed palpable and stuck to my clothing. There was no wind and there was such thick fog all around that I didn't even have a close appreciation of how the Rougarou could navigate here. Both my Goblin Vampire's Night Vision and Search For Life were worthless in the thick fog. By the way, it was quite strange that I couldn’t detect any living creatures near me. After all, in theory, we were supposed to be arriving at a large village...
At that very moment my sister, as if sensing my alarmed state, sent me a private message:
“Big-ears, these dog-headed helmsmen left me and the others on some uninhabitable riverbank, then took off with most of the boats and all the oars. It's dark here, there's dead swamp forest all around, and the place is totally wild and impassable. It doesn't seem like anyone lived here at all ever. Where are you now?”
I told Valerianna Quickfoot my coordinates and almost immediately was answered that I was more than four kilometers away from the others. How could that be?! The rougarou must have purposely separated me and my warband, setting the orcs down in some desolate place and leaving them without means of transportation, leaving me here on this boggy shore. I wrote Valerianna to get the orcs into combat order and stay on her toes, start building a fortification with the help of our Ogre Fortifier if possible, and then be sure and try to start carving new oars for the boats.
“Oh, I just got new quests from you! Don't worry, Amra. We'll do everything.”
I was less and less happy with what was happening. The Gray Pack didn't show up next to me, either. The wolves appeared by me only when they were very far away and had lost their master but, if the distance was not so great, they simply tried to reach me on foot. So now, it might take them quite some time to reach me along the mucky swamps and many streams. It had turned out badly with the wolves, but what could I do? Rules are rules...
But I was especially worried by the fact that, in the river next to me, I saw some bizarre movement. I heard strange gurgling and splashing sounds, as if a large lizard or crocodile was swimming in this foggy branch of the Styx.
I tried to call VIXEN so that, in case of danger, I could fly away on the winged snake, but my mount didn't answer for some reason. Something must have happened to the Royal Forest Wyvern. Meanwhile, the strange splashing was getting closer and closer. The unknown monster was approaching...
And then, when I was just about to dash away from the water at full speed, the dark tall figure of an oarsman came through the dank fog. It was unexpected, I'll be direct. An intelligent creature?! I froze in place and prepared to either speak with this approaching stranger if he was peaceably inclined, or run or defend myself if not. All my attention was now concentrated on the mini-map. It was very important to see the marker color of the oarsman as fast as possible and figure out what I could do from there. A red marker meant aggressive, yellow indifferent, and green friendly. I mentally spun my options over in my mind for every possible scenario... but the color of the marker I finally did see was gold! A unique creature?!
Charon
Ferryman of the River of Death (unique creature)
Charon?! I'll admit, I was totally confused, and didn’t quite know what to do. Running away from a deity was obviously stupid. And hoping to match forces with such a powerful and most importantly immortal creature all the more so. And the problem wasn't even that there was a black skull over the ghastly figure of the ferryman of dead souls...
Back in school, when we went through the myths of Antiquity, I had to make a report about, coincidentally, Charon. So, I had some idea of who this being was. Grandson of the primordial deities Chaos and Caligo, son of the black night goddess Nyx, and the god of deep darkness, Erebus. Charon’s brothers and sisters were just as fearsome as him, too: Thanatos god of death, Hypnos god of sleep, Nemesis goddess of retribution, Lyssa goddess of madness, Apate goddess of deceit... And even the goddess of strife Eris, who'd started the legendary Trojan war. The Three Fates were sisters of Charon, as well. The only person who'd managed to overcome Charon in his many millennia (and still hadn't destroyed the ferryman of souls, just managed to take the haggard old man's pole), was the legendary Hercules, but I was far from the greatest hero of all times and peoples...
His small boat stopped just two steps from me, and I managed to see the time-blackened boards of the boat, the long strong pole and the ancient man’s bony fingers in perfect detail. Charon himself was tall and gaunt, his thin gray hair didn't even come close to covering his dark, liver-spotted scalp. He had chalk-white unmoving eyes, more reminiscent of a blind man's, a wrinkled face, and blackened uneven teeth. Charon's clothing was nothing but a foul sack cloth, decayed by time and with many gaping holes. And nevertheless, I didn't forget for a single second how powerful a creature had turned his attention to me, and made a low, waist-bow of respect to the ancient being. Nevertheless, I was certainly not expecting what happened next.
Successful Charisma check
Experience received: 210 Exp.
Successful check for unique creature reaction
Experience received: 1700 Exp.
Successful check for Charon's reaction
Experience received: 28000 Exp.
“Are you lost, boy? Need a ride?”
The deity's voice was croaking and sickly and, at the end of his short introduction, the old man erupted into a coughing fit. Nevertheless, the fact that Charon had begun speaking with me was surprising all on its own. However, I was in no rush to agree to his offer, keeping in mind that, based on all the legends, Charon transported the souls of dead people to the kingdom of the dead, from whence they could never return. And that was like, not on my way.
“Everything is so simple with the dead,” the ferryman said, as if reading my thoughts. “You take your payment, bring them to the same old place, and your work is done. With the living, it's also clear. I can bring them to the kingdom of the dead, if they ask nicely but, once there, they quickly become indistinguishable from the other inhabitants. But as for you, the undying, it's all much harder... What sense is there to bring you or your souls to the kingdom of the dead, if you are just reborn in one hour anyway?!”
An unusual point of view. I'd somehow never thought before about how Charon might look on the players of a virtual game. Technically, I could try and ride his craft... Or was it better to wait for VIXEN?
“Your flying snake got too distracted hunting for local game, and became someone's lunch...” the immortal ferryman said, easily demonstrating his omniscience, a distinguishing feature of the gods. “She's still got forty minutes until she's reborn so, if you don't want to wait that long, hop into my boat. I'll take you wherever you need to go.”
Mission received: Crossing the
Styx
Mission class: Rare, personal
Description: name a location and come to an agreement with Charon about payment for passage
Reward: 10000 Exp., Fame +3, +50 to Charon's opinion of you, +10 to the opinion of Charon's family
I was somewhat worried by the issue of payment. As far as I knew, in Ancient Greece and Rome, a small coin was stuck under the tongue of the dead especially for Charon. But how much could the old man want to transport a living person? Something was telling me that, in this case, payment wouldn't be measured in money. Hercules had paid for passage in pelts, while the greatest musician of antiquity, Orpheus, had played for him on the cithara. But what did I have to offer the deity?
My gaze again hooked onto the time-blackened boat, which looked quite rickety, like it could sink at any moment. Maybe I could offer Charon a newer boat? As a matter of fact, I did have the one the Rougarou had brought me here in, while the ferryman already had his own pole to steer. However, as soon as I hinted about an exchange, the old man laughed uncontrollably:
“That new thing will be history in ten years! But my boat has served for millennia, and will continue to serve millennia from now.”
Trading skill increased to level 27!
My offer made Charon laugh, but his laughter gave way to yet another heavy hoarse cough. I took a risk nevertheless and jumped into the black boat. Where did I need to go? At first, I was planning to just join up with my friends, but now, I had sharply changed my decision. The pitiful four kilometers separating me and my warriors was a distance I could overcome by simply waiting for VIXEN to respawn, or at the very least by walking and swimming. It was totally irrational to squander divine intervention on such a modest goal. But what if...
“Three hundred twenty kilometers above the rapids of the Styx, there's a place where a Mythical Hound can be found... Or perhaps a not fully-grown hound, but simply a puppy...” I said, remembering that Mariam Standing_Right_Behind_You, when completing a similar quest with Fimbulthul, had spoken of a small puppy, which she then raised. “Could you bring me there? And how long will it take?”
“Yes, I know of such a place...” Charon finally stopped coughing and was now stroking his disheveled gray beard in thought. “I'm not received too cordially up there. That place has its own gods. But I can take you. As for time... what does it matter how long the trip takes, if all around is only fog and cold black water? There’s nothing for the eye to even catch on...”
The ancient old man started into another heavy coughing fit, and I extended him an Elixir of Cure Disease. To my surprise, my gift was accepted with favor and immediately used as prescribed. Growing a bit braver, I offered the ferryman another vial of medicine, but Charon refused:
“It isn't a problem for me to heal myself. I still have a bit of Olympian ambrosia and, beyond its intoxicating effect, it heals all illness,” with these words Charon pulled out an opaque amphora caked in dried mud and gave it a slight shake. I heard a few droplets splash around the very bottom. “But there isn't much ambrosia left, I have to save it. When Zeus organizes another feast, and I can refill my stores...”
If that wasn't a hint, I'd never played a computer game before! Instantly, I removed a barrel of beer from my inventory, which I had taken today in the Lower Fort. I wanted to also take out some appetizers. I also had corned beef and dried strips of meat, but my sensitive nose caught the smell of dried fish. Not yet believing it myself, I looked under the mat on the bow of Charon's boat. Underneath were fishing lines braided from horse hair, primitive goose feather bobbers, and hand-made wooden hooks...
“Sometimes, I go fishing, when no one is around to see,” the old man seemingly grew slightly embarrassed, and even started trying to justify himself. “What else is there to do on the river of death when there's no work? Only fish. Yesterday, I almost caught a catfish this big!” Charon spread his arms wide, demonstrating the size of his escaped prey. “Without a net, it was hard to get such a beaut' into the boat, but I lost my net six centuries ago near the sandbanks of the Styx. Three hundred years later, I tried to find it. I even dived in the black water, but I quickly got grossed out and gave up...”
In reply, I told Charon about the underwater city of Ookaa and the professional fishermen from the ranks of the undying who spent days on end on the banks competing amongst themselves in the art of fishing. I also told him that I could order good tackle with delivery, and I'd just need to tell the magical courier where to bring it.
The ferryman noticeably lit up, having seen a careful listener in me, and began telling me his fish stories with clear satisfaction, recalling the most curious cases and best fish of the past thousand years. I listened to his fish stories, cleaned a dried fish I found under the mat for the both of us and poured some fine beer from the barrel into some wooden mugs I found on the boat.
Mission completed: Crossing the Styx
Experience received: 2300 Exp.
Fame increased
Present value: 18
“So, do you keep up with your family at all?” I asked Charon, and the old man choked on his beer in surprise. Coughing and wiping the foam from his beard, he asked what I knew about his relatives. It seemed to me that Charon wasn't too happy to discuss this. He was either embarrassed as his origins, or thought discussing his relatives would totally kill the trusting and careless atmosphere of our spontaneous feast.
I readily told the immortal ferryman of souls everything I knew about his parents, brothers and sisters. It seemed I managed to surprise the deity with my deep knowledge of his genealogy, and also with the fact that I didn't show any fear discussing the god of death, goddess of madness and the others. Slightly slowing down, Charon admitted that he did keep up with them and even regularly met all his many family members, except the goddess of strife:
“Little Eris isn't gonna poke her nose into such a desolate wasteland just for me. My sister loves big noisy groups and mass gatherings. Those things give her huge satisfaction. But every time she shows up, there are scandals, swearing, and immortal gods getting punched in the face. For mere mortals, that's thousands and thousands of lost lives. I haven't seen Eris since the Trojan War. Although...” Charon dug into the bosom of his shirt, which looked like just a hole-ridden rag, “I used to have a gong to summon her... Ah, here it is! If you want, take the gong. It's just been laying around in my stuff for thousands of years.”
With these words, Charon handed me a time-darkened bronze plate with worn, unreadable words and barely distinguishable drawings of athletes or warriors, along with a small bronze hammer attached by small chain.
Gong of summoning the goddess of strife Eris (indestructible item)
Recharge time after use: two hundred years
What a dangerous thing! With extreme caution, I took the plate and hammer from the slightly tipsy deity, trying to prevent any chance of their touching one another. I suspect that, if an unforeseen summoning had happened, Eris would have been unhappy with being forgotten for millennia, and would have found such sharp words for her brother that the deities would inevitably start fighting, which would lead to my just as inevitable respawn as an undesirable witness to their argument.
As soon as I'd placed the bronze gong in my inventory, Charon told me we'd already arrived. To be honest, I hadn't even noticed any difference in the surrounding landscape: it was the very same night, black water and impenetrable fog, also we didn't seem to have gone up any rapids. All the same, I didn't doubt the deity's words. Charon had been traversing the river of death on his boat for thousands of years and, though unhurried and even-paced on first glance, he had overcome a huge distance in remarkable time by lazily operating his pole.
“Right there, a high-powered river flows into the Styx called the Gjöll,” the ferryman said with an indistinct wave of his hand into the fog. “There, you'll find the Gjallarbrú, the legendary golden bridge between the world of the living and the dead, the land of the giants and the queen of the dead lands, Hel, with her v
ery unpleasant daddy Loki... Those are other gods, and they don't receive me and my kind cordially, so I won't go near the bank. But you can walk through the shallows here. I don't know, Amra, why you wanted to visit these unwelcoming lands, but we have come to them from the world of the dead, and the local inhabitants don't expect guests from over here.”
I thanked Charon for the help and gave him a bow at the waist. After that, I jumped off the boat to a sandy spit extending far into the river. My boots gave a strange hissing sound, as if they were in acid, but I quickly got up on the sand. As soon as I'd come out of the water, the ancient ferryman dissolved in the fog like a ghost together with his black boat. And another second later, the Gray Pack appeared next to me in full and I heard VIXEN's wide wings flapping overhead. The game algorithms thought my animals were too far away, so they had sent them to their master.
The wolves put their tails between their legs and started whining plaintively, feeling very uncertain in these borderlands of the world of the dead. Even the huge Baron had his ears pressed against his head and was crawling on half-bent paws, nuzzling up to his master, as if I could protect him from danger.
I opened the map and tried to get my bearings but, other than a small bright circle of river and a piece of shore around us, there were only undiscovered lands. I had to spend a long time zooming out before I could see the area of the Styx Antonius Just had shared with me: Upper Fort, rapids, the land of the cyclopes, a bunch of markers warning of danger... And that was where the Lifegiving Light's expedition had ground to a halt. Oh, how far I was from those places! Going by the map scale, it was three hundred kilometers and maybe even further... I suspected that no players before me had ever before managed to come this far up the Styx.
A Trap for the Potentate (The Dark Herbalist Book #3) LitRPG series Page 23
