by Pavel Kornev
The Marquis tried to hush him up.
“Why?” the Baron turned to him. “What did I say?”
“You needed a Light Disciple?” I repeated after him. “Why? Is their blood any different?”
“Their blood is no different from anybody else’s,” the Count replied nonchalantly. He pulled out a flask and drank from it, then used the back of his hand to wipe the dark red from his lips. “What difference does it make to you? You’re not a Lightie, are you? I can feel it. You smell sort of dark.”
“If you need a Light God’s disciple, I can find one for you.”
The Count stood up and gave me a sharp intense look, apparently thinking of what I’d just said. I didn’t want to hurry him.
“Can we trust him?” he finally asked. “Won’t he blab?”
“No, he won’t,” I said. “The only question is, what you need him for.”
“We need to get something,” he began pensively, then stopped, waving my question away. “Not now. I need to give it some thought.”
But it looked like the little Baron had already decided. “This is a very good offer!” he said simple-heartedly. “What’s there to think about? It’s a no-brainer!”
“You’d better shut your mouth,” the Marquis advised him. “You’ve got a loose tongue, you.”
The Baron gave him the finger. “Up yours!”
“You’re asking for trouble!”
“Quiet, you two!” the Count shouted, then added with a sigh. “John, how about you make yourself scarce?”
There was no warmth at all left in his voice which now rang with sepulchral cold. Still, we deadmen have thick skins. His irritation didn’t get to me at all. I gave him a carefree smile, saluted everyone and left.
I was already walking down the stairs when the Count appeared in the doorway.
“You know what, John,” he said pensively, “I just can’t work you out. You’re not quick enough for a rogue; and for a warrior, you’ve got a glass jaw. Who are you?”
“Executioner,” I said, looking at him expectantly.
“I see,” he slammed the door shut.
So much for our conversation.
I winced and cussed under my breath. Not quick enough? A glass jaw? Dammit! He was dead right there! If only I could level up Dodge or at least buy myself a decent cuirass! The problem was, no one was gonna train a deadman — and as for any armor, I just couldn’t afford it at the moment.
Having said that, why not? I was about to receive a nice lump sum of money...
4
THE NEXT DAY Isabella arrived at the inn with a burned face and singed hair, her clothes covered in blood. Her PK mark had by then already faded.
“”Don’t ask!” she demanded the moment she walked in. She stepped aside to give way to an enormous bathtub brought in by the servants. The moment the door had closed on them, she unabashedly peeled her clothes off and climbed into the hot water.
Neo had his breakfast downstairs, which was why I decided not to get het up about her lack of propriety and just slumped back onto the bed.
“Can you scrub my back?” Isabella asked.
“No,” I said, unwilling to get my hands wet.
“Yeah right,” she laughed, soaping her shoulders. “As if I don’t remember the fiery embrace you gave me yesterday!”
I chuckled. “Where have you been?”
“First the guards were after me. Then some scumbags decided they wanted to hunt me. I barely threw them off.”
“And the money?” I moved to the point. “The Count said they’d transferred my cut already last night.”
She sighed. “Kitten, you’re so mercenary!”
Still, she decided not to test my patience any further. She reached out of the bath and pulled a taught money purse from her clothes. “Take it!”
The heavy purse very nearly hit me in the face. I caught it just in time, opened its laces and grinned.
Thirty-one thousand seven hundred gold!
I was rich. Not for very long though.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Isabella asked anxiously when I got off the bed.
“I’m gonna see Lloyd about more items from that set.”
“Wait up,” she stopped me. “I’m coming with you. I’m gonna raise my bid on the Crown of Chaos.”
“Why, aren’t you going to heal your burns first?” I asked, pointing my finger at my face.
“They’ll heal themselves,” she said nonchalantly as she began to rinse the lather off herself.
But before she could climb out of the bath, there was a knock at the door.
The priestess got back into the water. I sprang toward the table and grabbed my flamberge.
Neo wouldn’t have bothered to knock. In which case, who the hell could it be?
“It’s open!” I shouted aloud, ready to use my sword at a moment’s notice.
The door swung open, letting in the Count.
He stopped in his tracks. “Oh!”
“Close the door,” Isabella demanded. “It’s drafty in here.”
The vampire did as she said. He cast me a sideways glance and winced. “I hope I’m not intruding...”
“Not at all,” Isabella gave him a charming smile and ran her slender fingers along the ash-gray skin of her shoulder. “On the contrary.”
“I don’t think so,” the Count snapped. He may have looked like a sinewy middle-aged man but he was actually as dead as a doornail. Just like me.
“Blood circulation,” I reminded Isabella. “I told you, didn’t I? Without blood circulation, one is useless.”
The Count gave me a long look and pensively scratched his neck.
I smiled. “No offence meant. Nothing personal. Pure fact.”
The vampire nodded and moved on to business. “I’d like to talk to you about yesterday’s conversation. We might need a Light Disciple’s assistance in a — in an enterprise, sort of. If you think you can arrange it, just name your price.”
Isabella squinted but didn’t betray her surprise in any other way. She remained silent, permitting me to run the negotiations.
“What kind of enterprise?” I asked. “We need at least some information.”
The Count must have come prepared. “We need to get something from a place which is only accessible to a Light player,” he replied without hesitation. “And not just any player but one who is consecrated to one of the gods of Light. We’ll take care of his or her transport and safety.”
I gave a pensive chuckle. “Are you so desperate you’re prepared to enlist help from someone you don't even know?”
The vampire bared his small sharp teeth in an unkind smile. “We’re in the capital of the Dark world. There aren’t many Light players here,” he said, then added sarcastically, “I wonder why!”
Isabella plunged her head under water, then resurfaced, caught her breath and asked, “What is it? Where is it?”
“That’s irrelevant!” the Count snapped. “I just want you to introduce me to such a player.”
“The Light guy we know only works with us,” Isabella said, combing her wet hair. “And he is, how can I put it, one-time use. So everything has to be done the first time. There’ll be no second takes.”
The vampire turned a chair's back toward the bathtub and sat down on it, leaning his chest on the back of the chair. “Please explain,” he demanded.
“It’s an NPC,” I offered.
“Yeah right!” he sniffed. “Pull the other one!”
“Did you see a boy with me the last time? Or weren’t you paying attention?”
“A boy?” he drawled, looking confused. He screwed his neck in his collar like a boxer. “I can’t say I remember him very well. But if you two vouch for him...”
“We want more details,” Isabella demanded.
The vampire gave her a hesitant look. After a pause, he must have made up his mind.
“There’s this deserted monastery that has a very powerful protection at its very lowest level. I
t won’t let anyone through apart from Light Disciples. And there’s no other way of getting to the treasury. All we need is one particular artifact. The rest we’ll split in equal shares.”
I chuckled skeptically. “What makes you so generous?”
He didn’t play hard to get. “I’m not sure we can tackle the dungeon’s guard on our own,” he cast me a doubting glance. “I’m not sure about you, John, but we sure could use a hand from the priestess and her orc friend.”
Isabella accepted the compliment with a deadpan face. “Where’s the monastery?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Is it on land the Darks took from the Lights?”
“That’s irrelevant too.”
“If it’s on the Lights’ territory, we’re not getting involved.”
The Count paused. “Do I look crazy enough to trespass on their turf?”
“In that case, count us in,” Isabella said without even consulting me.
The Count nodded. The priestess sat up in the tub and proffered her hand to him.
He shook her wet fingers. “We might need a day or two to prepare everything,” he warned her. “But first I need to see your Light Disciple. I didn’t get a good look at him the last time.”
“Could you please wait outside,” I said.
Once he’d left the room, I lowered my voice, “You sure it’s a good idea?”
She laughed. “It’s only a game! You aren’t seriously going to mope around the inn waiting for the Spawn of Darkness to finally make up their minds?”
I gave her words some thought. “No, I’m not.”
Still, I had a bad feeling about it. I’d hate to take Neo on a dangerous raid like this. One single mistake, and that would be it.
Part of a program code? I beg to differ.
WHEN I WALKED out into the corridor, the Count was waiting for me on the stairs. Together we went down to the dining room. By then, Neo had already finished his breakfast and was fooling around throwing bits of bread to Scarecrow. The dead phoenix caught them with his formidable beak in mid-flight.
The Count heaved a disappointed sigh.
Neo turned to us. The vampire winced. “Oh.”
“Uncle John? Are we going anywhere today?”
“A bit later,” I replied, then turned to the Count. “How did you find the monastery?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “We were searching for a fortress for my future clan.”
“Your clan?”
“I’m quite ambitious, you know.”
We started back upstairs. “What kind of guard is there?”
“A dead dragon,” he said quite openly. “Vicious bastard. He can see the invisible. A mouse couldn’t creep past him. Even I with my high Stealth couldn’t do it, not to even mention the others. They still have a lot to learn.”
“Learn what?” I asked curiously. “Stealth?”
The vampire nodded.
“Are you teaching them?” I asked.
“I’m a Master of the school of Shadow Walkers,” he said with pride. Then he smiled, apparently realizing the source of my interest. “It’s a vampire school. Living beings can’t join.”
“And what if I could?”
“No, you couldn’t,” he snapped as he swung the attic door open.
I followed him. Once inside, I took my mask off and deactivated my Almost Alive ability.
The Count recoiled. In the blink of an eye, he had the scimitars in both hands. The Marquis dropped from his hammock, jumped to his feet and pointed his rapier at me. The Baron grabbed his daggers.
“A Lich...” the Count drawled. “What a surprise.”
I could have used my mental control to force them into it. Instead, I just spread my arms wide. “So how about me joining your school?”
The Count calmed down a little. “You’re a player, aren’t you?” he asked, sheathing his scimitars.
“I am.”
“But you’re also dead?”
“It’s not as if you’re completely alive yourselves.”
“That’s different.”
“I’m a participant in closed beta testing of a new update,” I offered him the most believable of explanations. At least now they stopped staring at me as if I was a monster with two heads. Now they had a more serious reason to be anxious.
“Bummer!” the Baron cussed. “What an idea! Now we’ll have hundreds of dead players roaming around. I took a tiny bite of this one and I couldn’t stop puking! And what if-”
“Then you shouldn’t bite everything that moves, should you?” the Marquis quipped.
The Count gave me a long look. “Do you have 15 pt. Stealth already?”
“I do.”
“A Lich leveling Stealth?” the Baron whistled in surprise. “”Where’s this world going?”
The Marquis gave him a slap on the side of the head. The two went for each other and locked in a desperate clinch.
Ignoring their scuffle, the Count announced the price of his tuition, “Ten grand. Half upfront. If anything goes wrong, the advance is non-refundable.”
I tried to haggle for a bit but he must have realized my interest in this so he didn’t budge an inch. I had to agree to his terms with the risk of losing five thousand and getting nothing in return.
But what could I do? I was desperate to level up Stealth.
I heaved a forlorn sigh. “Here, take it,” I counted out the right amount and handed him the gold.
The Count wasn’t in a hurry to accept it, eyeing me with hesitation.
“What now?” I said. “You’ll get the rest once you’ve done it. You know I have the money, don’t you?”
He winced unhappily but scooped up the coins, then made a complex gesture with his right hand.
“I’m starting the initiation,” he warned me. “Be ready.”
A quivering gray haze formed between us, repeating my mentor’s silhouette, a bit like a shadow which had gained freedom.
“Come on!” he hissed. “Step in, quick!”
I took a step forward, entering the shadow. Immediately I began shuddering all over.
I'd gained new knowledge! Yes! That’s what it was!
“Did it work?” the Count asked me, wiping sweat from his brow.
Ignoring his question, I handed him the remaining fee, then began studying my character’s new stats.
Student of the School of Shadow Walkers.
Maximum Stealth level: 25
Stealth in combat: 1 sec per each 10 skill points
Half-stealth in combat: 1 sec per each 2 skill points
Yippee! Not only could I level it up now but I could also remain invisible for at least two seconds after the initiation of combat. And then I had another twelve seconds of half-stealth!
I used my available points to bring the skill to 25, then asked the Count, “What next? Can you make me an Apprentice?”
The vampire’s eyes widened in surprise. “What, just like that?”
“And where am I supposed to look for you afterwards? This way we can do it and part company.”
He shook his head. “You need a Senior Master to do that. And trust me, that has a totally different price tag.”
“You’ll have to shell out fifty grand or more,” the Baron informed me. “And waste another couple of weeks on a quest. But no one’s gonna work with you anyway. You’re a Lich, not a vampire. If you ask me, it wasn’t a great idea accepting you as a stu-”
“Shut your mouth!” the Count barked.
The midget promptly shut up. He must have said something I wasn’t supposed to hear. I hurried to bid my goodbyes and went back downstairs.
I felt good. No wonder! Two seconds were enough for me to crit anyone, anywhere. My flamberge was no comparison to their daggers or even scimitars.
But the moment I stepped back into the dining hall, my good mood disappeared. I stealthed up and drew the sword from behind my back.
Immediately I reconsidered. I shouldn’t jump the gun, so I simply stepped
back into the corridor.
It was Prince Julien who’d just arrived at the inn, as large as life and twice as ugly. This time he seemed to be having a friendly conversation with Isabella which gave me some hope for a peaceful outcome of this visit. Could it be that the Spawn of Darkness had finally made up their minds? If so, then very soon I might find myself in the Kingdom of the Dead.
I shuddered. Still, it looked like I’d celebrated too early. The Prince sprang up angrily from the table, snapping at Isabella. It didn’t look as if the negotiations were going well. At least the Prince hadn’t drawn his sword.
I couldn’t help it any longer. I unstealthed and walked out into the hall.
On seeing me, Julien froze open-mouthed. His chiseled face turned to stone. A deep line furrowed his brow.
“So, you didn’t talk her into showing you her tits?” I asked, using his moment of hesitation. “Once a sucker, always a sucker. I don’t even need to ask her.”
He started heavily toward me but stopped half-way. “I’ll deal with you some other time,” he promised, then left the inn, slamming the door behind him.
“You shouldn’t have made him angry,” Isabella reproached me, spreading her aroma of essential oils.
“What did he want?” I asked, ignoring her scolding.
She shrugged. “He offered to double the price for the fragment of the Sphere of Souls,” she said somewhat pensively.
“Are they so desperate?”
“He is,” she corrected me. “Prince Julien. Or so I think. He seems eager to show his worth — but unfortunately, he has more money than sense. He thinks that money can buy anyone.”
“Money’s worth nothing,” I said. “So are they going to accept our conditions?”
“The Spawn of Darkness?” she laughed. “Of course they will. The auctions are in turmoil. The profiteers are milking it for every cent.”
I grinned. It would have been strange if people had ignored such an excellent opportunity to make money.
Isabella rose from the table. “Are you coming?” she asked, pointing at the door.
I nodded. “Where’s Goar?”
“He’s busy IRL,” she said. “He promised to log in later.”
At that moment, Neo appeared out of nowhere. “What about me?” he screamed. “Are you taking me with you? I’m booooored! Uncle John, you promised!”
