The Karmadont Chess Set (The Way of the Shaman: Book #5) LitRPG series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  New quest available: ‘Wolf Hunt.’ Description: Kill 10 wolves in the forest outside of Carnue and bring 10 wolf furs to Zlatan the Tanner. Quest type: Common. Reward: +40 Reputation with Lestran Province, +200 XP. Penalty for failing/refusing the quest: None.

  “I’ll do both—kill the wolves and find your heifer,” I assured the Happy Milkman. “Or what’s left of her—so don’t worry. Tell me instead the direction she ran in.”

  “Over there,” the man pointed at the tree line. “Escaped this morning…No doubt she’s already been eaten, the poor thing…”

  Leaving the Happy Milkman, whose name was actually Amir—a very odd name for an NPC by the way and odder still since his neighbors were named Zane and Agrippina—I headed towards the forest. As we had agreed, Draco stayed back to watch what Fleita would do, so I walked alone and…found myself really enjoying myself. How I missed this—walking through the forest all by myself without anyone to distract me with conversations, buzzing in my ear, asking for favors…The weather was excellent, the sun was out, the birds were singing, a cool breeze played around me scattering the sun’s heat but not blowing so hard as to give me a chill…How great life was!

  I tore the wolves to little pieces—literally. My Dragon Rank allowed me to use Thunderclap, which was an Intellect skill that launched a sonic boom at my enemy. So in short order, all that remained of the Level 65 wolves who’d come out to see their uninvited guest was their furs, which I needed to complete the quest. It turns out that I’m not that weak of a Dragon—as long as I used my powers right.

  Roar—fur, another roar—another fur. Despite the fact that I’m only a Rank 11 Dragon, I was a Level 130 player—which in some mysterious way strengthened my Dragon Form. I had no idea how and didn’t feel like thinking about it. The day was just too nice for it.

  “Moo…”

  It took me half an hour to locate the bovine. Having played their role by dying and dropping their furs, the wolves had disappeared as if there hadn’t even been any of them in the forest, so I walked along the ordinary grass of a leafy forest enjoying my stroll. In truth, you couldn’t even really call this a forest—it was too well taken care of, without a single fallen tree or branch. There weren’t even any leaves on the floor—just grass. And very green grass at that. I got the impression that I was strolling through a city park, instead of a forest brimming with predators. It seems that the developers had missed their mark here a bit. During my entire journey through this forest park I only encountered one ditch, in the center of which as if following the rules of the fantasy genre, stood the cow lowing bitterly, bemoaning her horrible fate. She could easily have stepped out of the ditch if she just turned around and gone home, but wishing to escape Amir, she stood there against the far wall of the ditch looking up and bellowing across the whole forest in her wild inhuman voice. Stupid cow…

  The animal reacted fairly calmly to my appearance, as if she was used to seeing me every day and in general we were friends that went way back. I tossed a rope over her neck but the cow went on mooing sadly and looking up without making any attempt to turn around.

  “What do you have, a nest there or something?” I muttered, turned into my Dragon Form and flew up into the air. It was odd—the cow wasn’t even afraid of a toothy monster like me. She reacted so little that you could think that there were flocks of Dragons flying around her head every day.

  Rising above the ditch didn’t clarify anything for me—it was quite ordinary. Earth, grass, the odd pebble—there was nothing else there—neither a cave nor a hole—nothing that could possibly cause the horned beasts to run away from home and come here every day. What else could it be? I opened my map and saw that, in effect, the cow had traveled in one continuous path: If I connected the three points—Amir’s house, the entrance to the ditch and the current location of the cow, then I’d get a straight line. That meant that the cow had some goal in mind and I simply had to find out, life or death, where this line led.

  I marked the direction on my map and turned to the cow, transforming back into my human form. Taking the rope, I sighed bitterly—it looked like I’d have to do some heavy tugging. Only instead of ship, I’d have a cow, and instead of water, I’d have the grass that this dumb beast would dig into with all four of her hooves. I considered turning into a Dragon and carrying her in my paws, but instantly rejected this idea—I had nothing to grab onto and might hurt her with my claws. I doubt that Amir would be very happy with that outcome…

  Including my battle with the wolves, I had spent thirty minutes looking for the cow—but it took me two hours to haul her back. The cow resisted with all her strength and kept turning back to the ditch as soon as I let any slack accumulate in the line…Nothing helped: neither my pleading, nor my yelling, nor my attempts to bribe her with sweets that I had picked up in the Golden Horseshoe way back when…If anyone had seen me then, they would’ve died laughing: Shaman Mahan offering an NPC cow food from the finest dining establishment of Barliona—and she just flicks her tail idly and turns up her snout as if I’m offering her trash. I had nothing else to do but grit my teeth and yank the dummy after me…

  “Bessie!” yelled Amir, as soon as we emerged from the woods. My Energy had decreased to thirty points for the third time and a notification appeared to warn me that I was exhausting myself. Stopping to rest, I was surprised to see the mean and very rude cow—who had only several seconds ago tried to entrench herself into the earth with all four hooves—lifted her tail and happily trundled off towards her owner. Wagging her tail left and right, she looked exactly like a dog.

  “Oh thank you, Mahan!” Shutting the cow in her pen, Amir approached me. “I thought that the wolves had already eaten her, but you found her, the sweet darling. And the wolves? What about them? Did you see them?”

  “I saw them and collected ten furs,” I replied, receiving the reward for bringing his cow back from the Milkman. “Who do I give them to? You or do I need to take them to the Tanner?”

  “You can give them to me. I’ll pass them on,” Amir said, marking the second quest complete as well. Since my Attractiveness with this NPC had now surpassed 45 points, I decided to ask Amir some more about his cows and odd name.

  “Oh! That’s an interesting story,” smiled the Milkman, inviting me into his house. “Please, make yourself at home! You brought back my Bessie, so I owe you at least a story about how a resident of the famed city of Cadis ended up so far away from his native land—and in a little village to boot.”

  Amir’s house turned out to be fairly comfy—soft furniture thoughtfully arranged, a fireplace which would be out of place in a typical village hut, where ovens were the norm. Several shelves, a pair of paintings, white curtains—the interior of this place in no way resembled that of a dairy farmer … It was too reminiscent of an urban residence.

  “What kind of tea do you prefer? Black or green?” Amir called from the kitchen.

  “Black as a rule, but if my honorable host doesn’t mind, I’d like to treat him with a tea brewed according to a rare recipe,” I offered at a hunch. Something told me that the more Attractiveness I’d earn with Amir, the more interesting our conversation would be. By making tea for this NPC, I should definitely boost this stat by a few more points.

  “Oh! With pleasure! I adore tea and try to learn anything I can about it. What do we need to make your recipe?”

  Opening my cookbook, I found the recipe for Aromatic black tea and grinned, remembering how I had offered it to the old ladies…Though, truth be told, I had slipped them some liqueur to turn the tea into something more ‘dazzling’ so…I wonder whether the same trick will work on Amir?

  “Nothing special—Leaves of the highland tea tree and a little liqueur.”

  “Liqueur?” Amir asked surprised. “For what?”

  “It’s a secret,” I smiled. “Let’s just wait till I make it and you can try a sip.”

  “Okay…I am curious! Let’s do it—I’ll get you the leaves and liqueur. Then we
’ll see what kind of tea you brew…”

  “…And then the city council kicked me out of the city like I was some stray dog,” Amir concluded his tale in a mumbling voice and took another sip of tea. “I came here five years ago and have been trying to create the same heavenly flavor, but…It’s some kind of curse or something! The cows are conspiring against me!”

  “Why here though?”

  “Where else was I supposed to go? Kartoss is scary—there aren’t even any humans there—just orcs and goblins. Lestran happened to be on my way and it so happened that the village elder instantly gave me a house…So I’ve grown comfortable here…”

  Amir’s story really was quite interesting, for me at any rate. About ten years ago, Amir, a resident of Cadis, encountered some imported butter at a market. It was ordinary butter from cow’s milk, which nevertheless tasted so good to Amir compared to the other butter he had tried that he bought the entire shipment. Amir was overjoyed when he received the hundred crates of this unearthly delight in his cellar. And it really was heavenly, since it would be pointless to compare ordinary butter with the one the merchant, who always wore a hooded cape, brought to Amir. Amir invited his neighbors to taste the new butter and even dared offer some to the city Mayor, who liked it so much that he asked Amir for some more of this dairy spread. The Mayor was receiving some guests and he decided to treat them with this wondrous dish. That’s when the strange things started happening…

  Overjoyed, Amir returned from the Mayor’s house, ran down to his cellar where he kept the butter, opened the door and froze in his tracks—the cellar was empty. Not only the butter had vanished, but also several wines that Amir was keeping for better times, some meat that he had saved for his guests as well as some fruits…The cellar was so empty that, at first, Amir assumed that he had opened the wrong door. That was when the guards the Mayor had sent for the butter showed up—as it happened, the Mayor had already bragged about the delicacy to his guests and now wanted to treat them. But there were no treats left…

  The next day was a nightmare for Amir—at first the shop was closed, ruining the harmony of the neighborhood, then someone set fire to the house, though thankfully the servants subdued the flames quickly, and after that the city council summoned Amir and declared him persona non grata for tricking the Mayor and embarrassing him in front of his guests. Amir was given a day to gather his belongings, sell his house for next to nothing, since no one wanted to buy it, and then he was literally thrown out beyond the town gates. The tragedy he’d suffered was so great that Amir promised himself that he would learn how to make this heavenly butter himself. Settling near Carnue, Amir began to pursue his life’s goal—until he came up against the bovine conspiracy. The cows simply refused to give him their milk and ran off into the woods every chance they got.

  “Now, you tell me, Mahan, what is this ill fortune?” Amir asked me with a wavering voice. It turned out he needed very little to become ‘buzzed.’ “What have I done to offend Eluna that she sends me such trials and tribulations?”

  “Maybe it has nothing to do with Eluna? Maybe it’s your own fault?” I replied with a wavering voice as well. “Maybe you’re meant to be a Smith, but you stubbornly insist on being a Milkman? How could you know?” I raised my index finger to emphasize my point.

  “Why I’d be an awful Smith…I can’t even sharpen a knife properly …”

  “Brother!” Draco burst into the house, busting down the front door. “Hurry—Fleita is about to die!”

  I managed to have the thought that respawning never really hurt anyone yet, but my body was already moving on its without heeding what my mind occupied with: Slamming the rest of the tea, I darted after Draco to the street, turned into my Dragon Form, noted as Amir gasped in amazement, and soared into the air.

  “Over here, hurry!” It was a short flight of no more than thirty meters, but Draco was rushing me so urgently that you could have thought that Fleita was on her last breath.

  “Everyone stop!” I roared and landed heavily on the ground. Since in my Dragon Form I was a four-meter tall beast, everyone should probably be terrified of me. Even dumb, scripted mobs.

  Fleita really wasn’t doing so hot—her Hit Points were blinking red and she was down on the ground, meaning that her Energy was exhausted. Three giant rats were skittering around her. The Ratherd completed the scene—a goblin in a soiled cape, with a staff that resembled a crutch and that had some kind of beads wrapped around it. The rats didn’t react much to my arrival—they squeaked, perhaps telling me what they thought of me, and turned back to gnawing at the girl’s feet. The Ratherd, however, was more appreciative—his red eyes turned black for a moment, he froze as if refusing to believe his sight, but regained his composure and re-donned the grimace of an aggressive mob. Too late! I already understood that I don’t need to kill him.

  “Draco—take the rats!” I sent my Totem to Fleita’s rescue and turned back into my human form. It would take several hours for the Level 80 Ratherd to kill little old Level 130 me. I stepped between the girl and the goblin and said, “Hang on! Let’s talk!”

  Right…The goblin instantly heeded my advice and in a clear and articulate manner elaborated the gist of his complaint…As if! Though this wrinkled green raisin had been momentarily afraid of the Dragon, when I became human, it seems that his brain short-circuited. I could clearly see the wheels spinning up there—‘I’m looking at a person, so I have to kill him. I can’t talk to a person…’

  To my surprise, the Ratherd was a Kartossian Dark Shaman. He began to summon Spirits against me and speaking in the language of his Empire. At least it became clear where the goblin had gotten his get-up from…the cape and staff. All he lacked was a hat and he would look exactly like a High Shaman goblin.

  The hairs stood up on my nape as a shiver coursed down my spine.

  High Shaman…A Dark High Shaman…A dark goblin who was also a High Shaman…A dark goblin…the Romeo and Juliet achievement…

  It took me a second to turn back into a Dragon, upon which I let the Ratherd have it with my tail, knocking him several meters back. Then, I cast Thunderclap. All foes within a 40 meter radius froze for a minute. More precisely the Ratherd and his rats froze, while I soared up into the sky and darted for the village center where the vendor’s stall was supposed to be. I only had 60 seconds…

  “I need green paint, a lady’s leather skirt, a lady’s leather tunic, a dark wig with long hair and a bone!” I fired in one go, falling right at the feet of the vendor. To give him his due, the guy wasn’t taken aback for a second by the sudden appearance of a Dragon. Commerce trumps all. 20 seconds…

  “I have what you want, but…”

  “One thousand gold for the lot of it!” I interrupted the vendor.

  “Two!” the jerk parried. No big deal—I’ll remember this. Later.

  “Agreed! Hand it over!”—40 seconds.

  “Pleasure doing business…” the vendor began, but I could hardly hear him. Tossing the items into my bag I surged back into the air. Damn it—I’m running out of time. The minute’s done…

  “Draco—Thunderclap!” I yelled, banking and wheeling down toward the old lady’s vegetable garden. The Ratherd had come to and was shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. Draco had finished off the three rats and was now glancing askance at the Ratherd without touching him. What else—oh! Fleita’s Energy had restored to the point that the girl could sit up and look around at what was going on. Let her spectate then—as long as she doesn’t hurt the Ratherd…

  “Fleita, help me!” I asked, realizing that I didn’t have enough time. Slathering the paint on my face and arms, I threw on the skirt and jacket and stuffed enough grass under my shirt to give myself a female shape, but I didn’t have time to shape the bone into a nose.

  “What do you want me to do?” Judging by how promptly the girl took her place beside me, her Energy was coming back quickly.

  “Take the bone and wire. I need to attach this to my no
se. Make the clamps.”

  “Got it—I need a couple seconds.”

  A couple seconds…I remained focused on the Ratherd and was realizing to my great chagrin that we didn’t even have that much. Just ten seconds…

  “Time’s up—give me what you have,” I ordered. “Now take Draco with you and get out of here!”

  “Argh! I’ll kill you!” yelled the goblin coming to his senses, but I took several quick steps, stuck the bone onto my nose the best way it would fit, and sang in a mellifluous voice:

  “Mmm…Hey handsome! Are you here alone, or what?”

  Somewhere behind me I heard Fleita roaring with laughter—meaning she hadn’t forgotten her Kartossian.

  “What a babe!” The Goblin stopped and ‘Charmed’ appeared in his status effects. “I must have you!”

  “Only if you catch me first!” I replied coquettishly and began to flee ladylike to the stunned amazement of Draco and the roaring laughter of Fleita. “You’ll never catch me! You’ll never catch me! Ha-ha-ha!”

  Oh kill me.

  I almost stumbled when I glanced back at the goblin who had now also gained the ‘Aroused’ effect—the entire fence was smattered with the heads of players watching our spectacle, while up in the air above us, some more players were observing from their griffins. To my great disappointment, their cameras were all recording, meaning I was done for.

  “Argh! I’ll catch you!” screamed the goblin, undistracted by the players. In fact I don’t think anything could distract him right now—the Aroused effect had taken a hold of him too firmly.