by G. Akella
"Quite so. Apologies for not joining you for the gargoyle hunt, I was kept by other business. How is the gargoyle getting on, by the way?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid. I don't think it will be bothering anyone anymore." Satisfied that I was of sound mind and body, the captain's luxuriant mustache now framed a wide grin.
"Excellent!"
Sure, it sucked not being there to help snuff out the winged bastard, but seeing as more than two months had gone by since the moment of my death, I was no longer consumed with hatred for my killer. Plus, one of the realms I'd visited in that maze of alternate realities happened to be full of gargoyles, so I'd had my fill of beating up on their kind. I dumped all the skulls looted in the dungeon, and sighed with relief.
"Five hundred heads!" Neyl exhaled, stunned. "If I weren't seeing this with my own eyes, I never would have believed it! Where did you even find so many undead?!"
"Five hundred thirty six," I corrected him, savoring the looks of utter shock on the soldiers' faces. "And I don't think there'll be any more undead causing trouble. The one who had been raising them is no more."
"That's good news. At least I don't need to order a freight train for all your trophies," Neyl nodded at the formidable heap of bones. "Besides, we're tired. Two months away from your families. Do you have the necromancer's head? Gilim won't let us leave unless it's produced."
"It's in the bag. I'm just going to drop by the local sorcerer real quick before seeing the elder. If the head is all he needs, you'll be back in Nittal before sundown."
"We're going to celebrate today in the local watering hole," Neyl looked at his legionnaires, their faces suddenly cheery. "Be sure to stop by."
With a vow to make an appearance, I headed toward Peotius' house. I didn't get any payment for turning in the skulls, not counting the warm and pleasant feeling in my gut. After turning in the quest to the sorcerer and claiming my reward—the familiar invisibility potions, the best of the options offered—I was at the elder's house less than five minutes after.
I found Gilim in his backyard. Waving his arms frantically like a bird flapping its wings, he was saying something excitedly to a short demon in a silver-embroidered tunic. Upon spotting me, the elder signaled to his interlocutor to wait and started my way.
"Greetings, Master Krian. Is your business urgent?"
"Greetings," I nodded at him. "Nothing urgent, I'd say, just this." I pulled G'Hrash's head out of the bag and held it out to the elder.
"Why, that's..." Gilim took a step closer, examining the skull dangling in my hand.
His companion, in the meantime, jumped back and drew a warding-off sign in the air.
"Lessie! Quick, bring me my jewelry case!" the elder bellowed, then swore loudly and with relief. "So that's... Master mage... Would you care to come inside for a drink?"
I didn't feel like drinking just yet, so I politely declined, and moments later the elder's daughter burst out of the house, panting as she carried a massive case of dark wood. The elder counted off fifty gold coins; then, after putting on a pair of cloth gloves, warily accepted the necromancer's head from me.
You've completed the quest: Trouble in Urcahnta I.
You received 50 gold.
Your reputation has increased. Residents of the Ashtar Dominion relate to you with respect.
Handing in those skulls was worth it, after all, I thought. Though a chunk of the reputation gain may have come from killing Shaartakh. Whatever the case, commanding "respect" in the dominion was a very nice development. A five percent discount in all shops, an improved attitude from guards and other government officials, and access to new, previously unavailable quests. Many players spent months grinding social and tedious daily quests to raise their reputation to respect, whereas it only took me one month, not counting the two months spent in the vault. An outstanding accomplishment, all in all. Of course, the lion's share of the credit belonged to the dead archmage—I had simply lucked out to be in the right place at the right time. Then again, thinking back to my five hundred consecutive deaths, I wouldn't wish such "luck" upon anyone.
"One more thing," I interrupted the demons' inspection of the dead head. "I found a scroll among the necromancer's things. Peotius has it. The sorcerer promised to prepare a spell within a day's time that will cleanse the area of the blight."
"That's great news, master mage. Only I fear too many undead remain in the vicinity. Perhaps you could..."
You've accessed the quest: Eliminating the Remaining Undead around the Ghorazm Ruins.
Quest type: normal.
Kill 100 blighted pigs, 50 blighted wolves, 30 blighted bears, 30 skeletons and 20 zombies.
Reward: 10 gold.
"Listen, Gilim," I said to the elder who was clearly distraught by my refusal. I had no intention of being stuck here another several days for a few measly gold. "Your hunters were being killed by a gargoyle, and Neyl's squad took care of it earlier today. The villagers won't have any trouble cleansing the area of the undead, and you'll save a lot of money by taking that route."
"Are you certain of this information, esteemed mage?" the demon in the black tunic addressed me for the first time, his voice hoarse.
"What reason do I have to lie? You can confirm with Neyl himself."
"Gods forbid I question your integrity!" the shorty waved his arms in protest. "What I meant was, are you certain there's not another gargoyle or some other beast of peril?"
"Absolutely," I assured him, catching his drift. I wasn't going to go into explanations that there could only be one named mob.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed, then turned back to the elder. "Can you turn in the head to the punishers tonight? And buy them a few rounds from all of us?" Gilim caught on right away, and nodded.
"Of course..."
Not wanting to tarry in the elder's yard any longer, I bid them both farewell and headed toward the inn.
"The elder sure is acting strange today," Neyl shook his head, shifting his gaze from the contents of his glass to the two tables overflowing with food, behind which the punishers were celebrating the end of their assignment. "Up until now he'd been demanding receipts for every damned thing, but here he is, throwing a feast."
"He's just grateful for your service," I shrugged, upending another shot into my mouth.
I had agreed to drink a few rounds with the legionnaires, but with a disclaimer that I wouldn't be staying long due to pressing matters in Nittal.
"Sure doesn't seem like him," the captain gave a chuckle. "All hustle and bustle today. Said he was going to present us with the head tonight. Ceremonially, in front of the whole village. Why he needs this, I do not know..."
"Do you really care?" I grunted, getting up from my seat and going around the tables, shaking hands with the soldiers. "I'm off, fellas. Take care!"
"Remember this, Krian. If you decide to become a necromancer after this, come see me—I'll have a mentor to recommend," Neyl smiled at me. Without his helm and holding a glass of murky swill, he looked exactly like my mental image of Gogol's Taras Bulba.
"Definitely," I nodded to him, and exited the inn.
Urcahnta was in a state of commotion—as I walked in the direction of the main road, two groups of hunters slipped by me, headed for the ruins. It seemed as if all the able-bodied village folk had decided to help put down the remaining undead. With motivated workers like that, I expected the area to be cleansed of any fiends in the span of a few hours. And besides, the elder didn't need to know that the punishers' defense fund had been drained by yours truly. I was in high spirits the entire way to Nittal.
I arrived in Nittal close to seven at night. After presenting my badge at the gate, I entered the city and headed for the Temple of All Gods. Leeque had promised to share with me how to get to Karn. I didn't know how he was going to do it, but I wasn't about to put off such a critical matter for even one day. The way there took another forty minutes. When finally I found myself beneath the dome's starry sky, I passed through the t
emple's rotunda and entered the shrine of the god of deceit.
On the outside, nothing was different from before: the same walls decorated with bas-reliefs and illuminated with magic lanterns, the same marble base of the altar, the same pleasant, indeterminate fragrance... Only the old man sitting in the chair appeared to have undergone some imperceptible change—now he looked like a kindly grandpa who'd grown wise with his years. Give him a beard and a star-spangled mantle, and he'd be the prototypical good wizard from children's fairy tales.
Just like the last time I was here, the shrine was empty. I nodded to Hart's statue, walked up to the altar, and carefully put the Star of Hittara into the charity bowl. There was a melodious ringing, and the amulet in the vessel disappeared, leaving behind a gold ring and a small leather scroll. I was stumped, hesitating to take anything from the charity bowl. I looked up at Hart's statue, as if seeking his permission, and froze... Sitting in the chair was none other than Leeque, looking at me with gladness and amusement in his eyes.
"Go on, you've earned it," he said with a wink, and motioned at the items in the bowl.
I nodded to Leeque, still in a daze, and carefully picked up my just reward.
You've completed the quest: Restoring Justice.
You have gained a level! Current level: 103.
You have 1 talent point to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.
You have 3 stat points to allocate.
You received Ring of Distorted Reality.
...................................................................
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level!
...................................................................
You have gained a level! Current level: 131.
You have 29 talent points to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.
You have 87 stat points to allocate.
You have garnered the attention of a higher being. Bel the God of Deceit is friendly to you.
"Thank you," I nodded farewell to Leeque, now frozen in marble, put the items in my bag, and left the shrine. Well, justice has indeed been restored, along with my level 131. The thought brought incredible relief. I should pay a visit to Dara, celebrate my promotion... But at that very moment I heard a familiar voice.
"Hello, Krian," a familiar figure in a gray cassock greeted me, standing by a marble column at the shrine's exit. "I'm a little surprised..." Arsa threw back her hood in a graceful gesture, letting her fair hair cascade down her shoulders. She's beautiful, I noted to myself automatically. Why hadn't I noticed it last time?
Hello, sister," I bowed my head in a greeting. "What is the cause of your surprise?"
"People like you tend to converse with gods outside of temples," a shade of sadness touched her huge green eyes.
"Are you upset by something?"
"Oh, it's nothing," she gave me a searching look. "You are an interesting creature, Krian. I know of no other who has found favor with so many different entities. More and more I grow certain that you will succeed..."
"In what exactly?" I was totally lost.
"In infiltrating Castle Krajde and rescuing my daughter," she spoke those words in a tone so soft and ravishing that for a moment I lost my grip on reality. When I recovered a second later, I realized that I was peering at the marble column. With only the hint of her perfume in the air bearing witness that my mind was still sound.
Do they think I'm Neo or something? Why must everything revolve around me? I was baffled. Perhaps it was because out of thirty million players I was the only one stranded in Demon Grounds, and the local AIs were throwing these mysteries at me out of boredom? Or maybe to help compensate for my, um, unconventional (botched) build? Whatever the case, I really shouldn't complain... Speaking of pleasant surprises, there was the matter of Hart's reward. I opened my bag and took out the lovely gold ring.
Ring of Distorted Reality
Accessory; ring.
Durability: 3987/4520.
Bound item.
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Minimum level: 100.
Infinite invisibility (invisibility potions are not limited by time).
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Weight: .01 lbs.
A gold ring of unknown craftsmanship.
Infinite invisibility... that should make it easier to stay out of trouble while traveling. As long as I remembered that invisibility wouldn't fly against mobs thirty or more levels higher than me; plus, there were creatures in Arkon capable of detecting players using this buff. The ring also wouldn't make me any more of a rogue—that class had the highest bonuses to invisibility, and the ability to vanish even while in combat. Still, one mustn't look a gift horse in the mouth. And what were all the question marks? Was the ring in need of identification? But the devs had done away with item identification a while ago, having deemed it useless. Oh well, I was going to visit a jeweler anyway while in town, so I'd have him take a look at the ring for me.
And now for the main part, the reason I'd picked up this quest in the first place. I unrolled the scroll carefully... and nearly howled with disappointment. Well, I should have expected something like this! The thin leather bore a short phrase: Ahriman's private library. Travel notes of Saadak Ar-Kilat from his twenty-year journey across the territories of southern barbarians. On the face of it, there had been no deceit—Hart had fulfilled his end of the bargain. As for actually getting into the overlord's private library, that was on me, and I suspected it wasn't going to be easy. Oh well, I shrugged. I'll wrap up my business in this dominion and set out to Iskhart. Once on location, I'll worry about getting a library card...
Chapter 4
Every human on earth should at some point in their life visit the famous Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. With its spectacular blend of din, color and an indescribable cocktail of fragrant spices, the bazaar is a staple of every eastern country. I still remembered my first visit to Turkey, and the pity in the eyes of the cabbie driving me to the city center. It was only later, when the tour, which had been scheduled for only several hours, ended up lasting till the bazaar closed—and eviscerating my wallet in the process—that I realized what that look had meant. Needless to say, the market in Nittal was smaller than its real-world counterpart in Istanbul, and was also situated under the open sky. In every other respect, however, as long as you swapped out demons for Turks, I probably couldn't tell one from the other.
My spirits were high. Because Master Krayon hadn't yet finished my armor, I'd talked him into upgrading it to my current level, albeit at a cost of another five hundred gold. My alchemist acquaintance had sold me level 100+ potions of healing and stamina, fifty of each, and had accepted an order for one hundred elixirs of possibilities, which added 100 to all stats for four hours. And the four unused medium elixirs I had decided to save for a rainy day in my private vault.
The rest of that evening I spent thinking about Arsa, trying to figure out who she really was, and mulling over her last words. Gerid, with whom I'd been celebrating my return, had little of substance to add to crack this mystery. But we didn't let that ruin our night, and had ourselves a grand old time. By the time I stumbled up to my room in the wee hours of the morning, I barely had the strength to make it to the bed before passing out, let alone to remove my armor.
Good thing I hadn't tried allocating my talent points last night, I thought to myself, looking over the wares laid out on stalls and stands. I had come to this place for a specific purpose, and didn't want any distractions—it would be all too easy otherwise to spend days here, if not weeks. It was only natural to want to taste every exotic fruit and confectionary, test the workings of every little trinket, admire the myriad patterns of gigantic ornamental rugs, and learn which animal fur they were made from. Later, there'll be time for all that later, I kept repeating the words to myself like a mantra every time my eyes fell on yet anothe
r wonder. All I need now is a sword, some rings and a lizard! Curiosity will have to wait—the market won't be going anywhere soon. I allowed myself just one stop—the tobacco shop. After trying some twenty different kinds of tobacco, I purchased six pounds' worth of the ones I liked best. Then I asked the shopkeeper the way to the weaponsmiths, and was on my way.
Leaving behind the intoxicating smells of fish and spices from the countless rows of food stands, I walked past four clothiers, rounded a corner occupied by a textiles merchant, and finally arrived at my destination. It took me about an hour to check out the wares in all the weapons' shops. Every weapon imaginable was in stock: from small daggers to massive two-handed swords, from leather slingshots to long composite bows. All that was missing were rare quality swords in the 100-130 level range. After some deliberation, I purchased the one sword I'd found that was more or less suitable, which also looked quite similar to mine. With a length of roughly thirty two inches, it had a straight, double-edged blade with a textured hilt for an easy grip, and a straight matte pommel.
Straight Militia Sword
Sword: one-handed.
Durability: 500/500.
Unusual.
Minimum level: 120.
Damage: 200-240.
+120 strength.
+1% to critical hit chance with a physical attack.
Weight: 7 lbs.
The shopkeeper's initial asking price was two hundred gold. In the end, we agreed on eighty. The truth was that a sword like this would fetch no more than twenty five gold at an auction house. Unusual quality items generally cost fifty or so times less than rare ones, to say nothing of epic gear. At least that was how it used to be. I had not a clue as to what was happening up in Karn, but it would make sense to see falling prices for items below level 150. The influx of money from the real world had been stopped, and professions now afforded reasonable opportunity to make money. Mineral deposits started with iron in level 60-70 zones, and were exceedingly rare at such low ranges. And if you wanted to mine mithril, that meant an excursion to Kraet Peaks, on the border with dwarves and drow. The zones up there were level 150 and above, while a single mithril deposit typically yielded no more than ten-twenty grams. If memory served me right, after mithril came adamantine, and the metal components from the epic items in the level 400 range stored in my vault were forged from titanium. Titanium is a pipe dream for the vast majority of players, so let's be realistic and work with what's available. With a sigh, I put the sword away and headed off in search of a jeweler.
