by Pavel Kornev
“Just as a suggestion, you could check the auctions for any bad builds.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some people buy everything they can lay their hands on. And a single badly chosen article can seriously depreciate a non-separable set.”
I resolutely rose from the table. “Why would I need badly chosen items?”
Mr. Lloyd shrugged, squinting his inhuman eyes. “I simply wanted to be helpful. Also, the items themselves can be quite decent. It’s just that some of them are sought after by necros and others, like death knights, but when put together-”
I slumped back into the chair. “Are they really so much cheaper?”
“Let’s take a look.”
He pulled the book toward himself and began leafing through it.
Isabella gave a theatrical snicker. “I’ll go see Ulrich then.”
“Please do, dearie,” the alchemist said as he turned the book toward me. “Here’re some sets which contain only two or three items. Ten grand might do it.”
I thanked him and began studying the offers. Still, the sets fell into two categories: very expensive and very stupid. Don’t get me wrong: I still could buy something cheap that could considerably improve my other items. But why would I need a set containing an amulet with a bonus to spell-casting rate, a protection necklace against death magic and a bone bow? Or a ring that doubled the number of raised zombies, a two-handed Skull Crusher mace and an amulet with bleed protection. Or an Elemental Shield, a Staff of Death and a runic cuirass?
And so on and so forth. All kinds of junk.
When I’d already despaired of finding anything useful and decided to check two-item sets, I finally discovered the combination of Left Sleeve of Power and Belt of Memory.
The bracer, forged from some kind of dull metal, protected the arm from the wrist to the shoulder. The elbow was covered by some kind of hinged articulation. The steel pauldron sported a single spike.
Left Sleeve of Power (Deadman’s Set: 2 out of 13)
Armor: 14
Strength: +2
Seven points Armor for each item in the set? That was actually quite decent, even though the object only protected my arm. With a bit of training, I could parry blows with my arm just as well as I could with my shield.
The wide belt covered with metallic plaques looked just as impressive. But that wasn’t what made it so valuable to me.
The Belt of Memory (Deadman’s Set: 2 out of 13)
Armor: 1
Adds one extra spell level 1 to 5.
The belt came with spells! Which in turn gave my half-baked Lich access to magic! It wasn’t as if I really needed it — but the more I looked at the set, the more it appealed to me. Especially because the owner seemed to have lost all hope of ever getting rid of it so he'd dropped the price to seven and a half grand.
“I’ll take it off you,” I said to the alchemist, returning his book.
He chuckled skeptically. “There’re better ways of pissing money into the wind.”
I didn’t want to hear. “I want you to close the deal,” I demanded.
The old man shrugged. “If you say so. It’ll be eight thousand two hundred fifty gold.”
“Excuse me?”
He sighed. “And who’s gonna pay the auction commission and urgent delivery?”
I gave up and shelled out the money.
“The deal is pending approval,” he said. “The stuff will be available in an hour or two. Would you like it to be sent to your inn or would you rather collect it yourself?”
“Send it to the inn,” I decided, unwilling to drag it out any longer. A game is an unpredictable thing. One never knew when I might need my new items.
“Would there be anything else?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” I chuckled. “I need a few other things too...”
6
I LEFT THE SHOP with empty pockets. I’d splurged every gold piece I’d had on gear and wasn’t in the least upset about it. Money isn’t a goal but the means to achieving it, especially virtual money. What was I supposed to do, bury it? But without proper equipment I couldn’t get any further.
The first thing I’d bought was two sets of rogue’s clothes, a pair of sturdy gloves with metal studs and molded leather greaves complete with wrought-iron poleynes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use any other protection for my legs because both chainmail and armor plate hindered my Agility and came with a penalty to Dodge. The only piece of armor plate I’d bought was a right-arm bracer. As for a cuirass, the alchemist had suggested I left it until I got myself a Deadman’s Pauldron. I’d also bought myself a very simple helmet made of hardened leather. It didn’t offer much in terms of protection but at least it didn’t prevent me from donning the hood.
But the bulk of my money had gone on the mask. The one Isabella had given me was on its last legs, and walking around the city with an open face wasn’t really a good idea — at least not in daylight when my Almost Alive skill didn’t work.
The old man laid another thick tome in front of me listing all available offers. But the moment I began leafing through it, Isabella rolled her eyes with a long-suffering sigh.
“Just tell him what you need and he’ll have it made for you!” he said impatiently.
I looked up at the alchemist. “Can you do that?” I asked in surprise.
Mr. Lloyd smiled. “That’s how we make our money. Normally, our clients come with more complicated orders but I can make an exception for you. Here, draw it,” he offered me a sheet of paper.
I somehow drew an oval mask with slits for eyes and a few small holes in the place of a mouth.
“Would you like it to be anatomical?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Made out of what?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Of course!”
“So what would you suggest?”
The alchemist shook his head. “It’s only a question of what you can afford.”
I opened my purse strings but reconsidered. I was a fool, wasn’t I?
I reached into my inventory instead. “Will this do?” I asked, laying the bone golem’s deformed pauldron onto the table.
The old man whistled in astonishment. “Black mithril? I would think so!”
Isabella hurried to check it and flashed me an unkind smile. “I can see you didn’t leave that dungeon empty-handed, Kitten!”
I turned round and held her stare. “It’s a different dungeon. The one in Stone Harbor.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
The alchemist slapped his hand on the table, stopping our argument. “Sort out your differences in the street!”
He leaned over the crumpled piece of metal, studying it, then sighed. “I’d hate to waste black mithril on some half-cocked bodge job.”
I got the hint and replied with an equally heavy sigh.
We continued haggling for another quarter of an hour. As a result of which, I’d parted with the rest of my gold while the old man took it upon himself to make me a mask fitted with holders for three magic runes. It was pricey but definitely worth it.
WE PARTED perfectly happy with each other. On the way back, Isabella kept moaning about the time she’d wasted. I just laughed under my breath. As we approached the inn, I couldn’t help it any longer.
“You’re so mad because you couldn’t get the Crown of Chaos, that’s all.”
I knew I’d touched upon a sore point when she started grinding her teeth in silent fury. I should really shut my mouth and not elaborate upon it any further.
“What kind of crown is that?” I asked, trying to appease her.
She sized me up and down with her piercing glare but replied nevertheless, “It’s the last part of the Priest’s Set of Chaos. I have all the rest.”
I nodded. Suddenly I realized that I’d seen something which matched its description to a T. The golems’ captain back in the dungeon seemed to have something very similar.
&nbs
p; Still, I didn’t tell her about it. My preservation instinct prevented me from doing so. Also, what was the point of giving her false hope?
ISABELLA TOOK ME back to the inn, then left on some business of her own. I walked upstairs to my room. I wasn’t tired but I did need to restore my internal energy.
The moment I set the orcish longsword in the corner and collapsed onto the bed, Neo peeked from the other room. “Congratulations on your purchases, Uncle John.”
Dammit! I should have thought of buying something for him too. I’d completely forgotten. So stupid of me. I wasn’t used to caring about somebody else, let alone an NPC. What a shame.
“Have you already eaten?” I asked him simply to break the uneasy silence.
He nodded. “I have. Can I go out and take a look at the city?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“Why?” he sounded surprised. “I’m gonna take Scarecrow with me!”
He opened the shutters. Immediately the black phoenix dove down from above and landed on the windowsill. His powerful talons left deep grooves in the wood.
“Craaah!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
I winced, hesitating, then waved the boy away. “Okay, you can take him and go. But don’t leave the island!”
“I promise!” Neo ran out the door, happy.
Scarecrow gave me a sideways look with his cloudy dead eyes, squawked again and took off into the open.
I was doubtful a dead phoenix could be of any tangible help to the boy — but what could happen to him in broad daylight? It wasn’t a reason for me to keep him under lock and key!
I bolted the door and returned to the bed. But immediately I had to spring back to my feet. Someone was knocking demandingly at the door.
I grabbed at my flamberge still lying on the table but reconsidered and drew the bone hook from my belt instead. It seemed to be custom-made for close combat in small rooms like the one I was staying in.
There was another knock.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Your order,” someone replied from the corridor.
I stood behind the door and withdrew the bolt. “Come in.”
Me paranoid? I don’t think so. Not when you have a crowdfunded reward of seventy grand on your head. Definitely not when you’re blacklisted by the third most influential clan or when your arch enemy is hell-bent on finding and killing you.
The door swung open, letting in the alchemist’s assistant who looked in bewilderment around himself, looking for me.
Finally, he saw me. “That’s where you are, John!”
“What have you got there, Ulrich?”
“Just your auction stuff. Your mask isn’t ready yet,” he handed me a heavy bundle.
As soon as I’d locked the door behind him, I hurried to rip the packaging apart. The Belt of Memory turned out to be unexpectedly heavy. I put it on over my chainmail, then reached into the box for the Left Sleeve of Power.
It fitted me like a glove. It also came complete with a right-arm bracer albeit devoid of any magic properties. Had I known earlier, I could have saved myself some money.
Deadman’s Set: Altered
Deadman’s Set: Saved
I stood in front of the mirror and moved my arm around, admiring my reflection. The armor made of some dull metal or other looked incredibly serious. The elbow joint was very smooth with no creaking or play in it. Now I was pretty sure that was why my chainmail was missing the left sleeve.
I opened the item’s stats.
The Left Sleeve of Power (Deadman’s Set: 7 out of 13)
Armor: 49
Strength: +7
Excellent. Now I could parry blows with my left arm. But only if...
I frowned, realizing I couldn’t see the promised bonus to Strength in the stats anywhere. I still had 28 pt. like before. What was that now?
Still, everything fell into place the moment I equipped my flamberge. Yes! I had it!
I put the sword down and took the bone hook in my left hand. The bonus was still there. Logical, really.
I started studying the rest of the stuff from the set, trying to find out whether their stats had improved too. The results quickly cheered me up. Even though the chainmail hadn’t exceeded 25 pt., the Silver Deadman’s Amulet could now restore 7% Health, Stamina and internal energy every 10 minutes.
Now I could use both Incognito and Almost Alive for as long as I wished without risking burning all my mana because the silver amulet could generate it one and a half times faster.
But my flamberge was admittedly the star of the show. The rusty spots on the blade filled with a blood-red glow, revealing black runes. The last remaining chips and dents had disappeared from its point. Its hilt began vibrating slightly in my hand, impatient for a new victim.
Bloody Flamberge (Deadman’s Set: 7 out of 13)
Damage: 16-22
Accuracy: +15%
Chance of causing critical damage: +15%
Chance of causing bleeding damage: 11% for each wave of the blade used in the strike
Five hundred damage with every successful blow! And what if it were a crit? And if I attacked a triple stationary target? Just think about it!
A bad build? Depends on who's using it!
Then I remembered the Belt of Memory. Had its bonus also worked?
Oh yes it had. My magic tab flashed with a new message suggesting I selected one of the level-1 spells.
That’s when my head truly went round. If, at the time of my creating my char, I’d spent several days perusing the forums in search for the best leveling strategy for my rogue, magic still remained unchartered waters for me.
So how was I supposed to work it out?
It went without saying that I didn’t even have to check zombie summoning. The undead raised by me would only scare a total newb. Attack spells weren’t an option, either. Their damage would be laughable. And as for defense spells, they’d be breached by a single confident blow. I had my flamberge for attack and my Dodge for defense. What I needed was some spells capable of improving either of the two. I needed to come up with something to spice it up.
I spent some time collecting all available spells in a single window and began sorting through them, starting with those whose effectiveness depended on the sorcerer’s Perception and not his Intellect. I removed death magic and soul magic from the list and started looking through the spells available exclusively to liches. That was something my enemy wouldn’t expect.
How’s that for spicing it up?
As a result, I opted for Touch of Death, Sphere of Dead Fire and the Leap. The first was an improved version of the Deathgrip already known to me. The second one exploded, decreasing the victim’s Perception. And the third one could transport the sorcerer — a bit like a miniport, really, within a limited vicinity. It also was unable to transport him through any obstruction. In my case, 3 inches per Perception point resulted in a Leap of 3 feet. It may sound like nothing but an instant jump like that is precious for a swordsman, even if only for a couple of feet.
That’s it, then. I selected the spell and immediately tried it by leaping from the mirror back to the table.
It happened in an instant. I didn’t even notice it. Just like I didn’t notice the 100 pt. internal energy disappear in a flash.
That meant I’d be running on empty after just four Leaps. Still, all other spells burned considerably more mana. And in combination with the ability to detect the stares of others and the ability to hit invisible targets, Leap could become an unpleasant surprise for any rogue.
A deadly surprise.
I nodded to my own thoughts and sheathed the flamberge behind my back, about to leave the room. After some hesitation, I also picked up the black longsword. It would be stupid to have to run back to my room to for it if the orc buyer turned up.
WHEN I WENT DOWNSTAIRS, Mark gave me a nonchalant nod and took a sip of his strong aromatic coffee.
“Help yourself,
” he nodded at the coffee pot next to him.
“No, thanks,” I leaned the black sword against the bar and sat down on a creaky chair. “Listen, Mark. What you were saying about the Light and the Dark... what do you think? Who is who?”
The innkeeper sniffed. “What’s that for a question? That’s elementary!”
He didn’t have the time to share his conjectures with me though. The front door swung noisily open. An enormous orc in black armor stepped into the inn. He held his horned helmet under his arm, allowing everyone to admire his grayish green skin, bloodshot eyes and the fangs protruding from under his upper lip.
Goar the Autumnal Thunder, Paladin of the Equilibrium
He wasn’t just burly but also incredibly tall. He had to stoop when entering the inn, otherwise his head would have hit the doorframe.
Oh wow. I dreaded to even think how much money he’d thrown at his character building in order to circumvent the orcs’ racial restrictions. It looked like an awful lot.
He looked around the dining hall, saw the longsword and beelined for me. I stepped toward him with a calm smile.
“John?” the orc boomed.
“That’s me,” I said, heading to the far corner. “Did Lloyd send you?”
He nodded and followed me. I really didn’t have to ask. My sword and his black armor looked as if they definitely came from the same set. No doubt about it.
I set the sword against the wall and sat down, shielding it from the orc. I just didn’t like the intent gaze with which he was eyeing his coveted weapon.
Nothing could be easier. All he’d have to do would be to reach out and take it. I was unlikely to stop a level-74 Paladin.
Goar the Autumnal Thunder forced his gaze from the sword and slumped on the opposite chair with a heavy sigh. The chair creaked its protest.
I couldn’t help thinking about the guard of the lake. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
“How much are you prepared to pay for the sword?” I moved straight to the point. I’d already decided that the money I’d get for it should be enough to buy me that smock at least.
