(World of Valdira 01) The Way of the Clan

by Dem Mikhaylov

  - Haven’t you finished yet? Drink up and I’ll bring more.

  - Have we got a drinking tournament? – I wondered lazily and sipped.

  - Hush! You must do it, drink up!

  - I’m sick and tired of all your ‘youmustdoits’ - I said – Keira, I can understand it, I’m not from your clan and maybe you just can’t trust me. I agree you can have some secrets and riddles. But the whole situation is one big secret. So and now it turns out that we must get loaded. I have never seen such an obligatory condition for a tournament!

  Without saying a word Keira looked at me for some seconds, sighed and said in a completely different manner:

  - Drink up. I’ll bring you another mug and take one for myself. Then we’ll have a talk. I won’t tell you everything but the situation in general. Anyway I was going to talk to you so you shouldn’t have worried so much.

  - Agreed – I exclaimed cheerfully and brought the mug to my lips – Cheers, Keireya the Protectress!

  After bringing drinks Keira sat down closer to me and bending to my ear started talking:

  - Do you know there are loads of secret or just implicit quests and events hidden in Valdira?

  Getting my nod, she continued:

  - This tournament belongs to such a kind! It’s rather easy to get it but its main difficulty is not to get the quest but to gain implicit award bonuses.

  - An award for winning the tournament? – I wondered.

  - Right.

  - And what are the bonuses?

  - You don’t need to know it, Ros. That’s…

  - …that’s the clan’s internal affair – I finished instead of her – Ok. We must win the Cradle tournament. I’ve known it before. But I can’t realize why there are so many strange conditions and requirements? Not to join any parties, not to spoil relationships with the saloonkeeper, not to die… it sounds wild!

  - Actually it’s very simple – Keira chuckled – You mustn’t spoil relationships with the saloonkeeper as the tournament is held here in the backyard of the tavern.

  - The saloonkeeper holds the tournament, doesn’t he?!

  - No, he doesn’t. The tournament is going to take place here. But the saloonkeeper is just the owner of the tavern. But if you don’t get on well with him, he won’t let you in. His brolics will throw you away at one stroke. Have a look, they are waiting for an order.

  I haven’t had a look, as I noticed two hefty dudes at the entrance when we entered. As well as their heavy clubs at the broad leather belts. The level of these ‘locals’ must be higher than ours.

  - Ok, I see.

  - The only obligatory condition not to screw up the tournament is relationships with the saloonkeeper. Neutral or friendly – it doesn’t matter, but not hostile. The other conditions – not to die in the game process and not to join parties before the tournament – are optional. We’ll take part in the tournament anyway.

  - But?

  - But if you don’t meet these conditions, award characteristics will be far lower – Keira explained patiently while I was keeping silent with amazement.

  - Wait… but I’ve joined your party. We’re in the party now. You and me.

  - Right. But it’s not just a party, it’s our first party. Another optional condition – a number of battles fought together. We won ninety-nine battles and have been together so far. We’ve been inseparables since our first mutual battle.

  - Hrmph… it sounds intimate…

  - Heh – Keira burst out laughing – We’re talking about it like about breaking the cherry or about first love. Actually it must look so. We’re trying to get crossed with the legend about Grim the Inconsolable.

  - Who is it?

  - Grim the Inconsolable is the one who will come here soon and he is going to hold the tournament. By the way we mustn’t quarrel with him either!

  - You’re saying it again as if I’ve got an aim to quarrel with every person I meet!

  - I’m not sure about every person, but I’ve read an interesting topic on the forum… One hurting unit – a dude with a funny nickname – was complaining tearfully about a Rosgard who is said to have locked him in the barn and let rats eat him by deceit. And after that he marauded his copse, took all his stuff and forced the poor guy to walk around dressed in a diaper only. He was crying that Rosgard stole ten silver coins hardly earned, a just-bought sword, a cloak and other bits and pieces. He called you different bad names and threatened to make a real hell for you in the game. He also asked the administration to take punitive measures towards Rosgard, a hostile criminal who didn’t let honest beginners play in peace and quiet. He warned other gamers not to deal with such a scammer. By the way, just in case I’d like to add that it happened in the Cradle – Keira grinned and patted the sword at the belt – Isn’t it his sword I’m using? And what about my cloak?.. It smells like carrion.

  - Bloody Dort Vider! – I hissed angrily doubling my fists. – Jedi’s son of bitch!

  - So you see, but you’re asserting that you don’t argue with anyone – Keira was having fun – And after that you have provided me with a complete set of gear and weapon… did you take it from the robber’s stock?

  - He had nothing from the list! – I roared – two kilos of peddles and some miserable coins only!

  - But you did feed poor jedi to rats, didn’t you? You’re a dangerous person, Ros.

  - It was his fault – I shrugged my shoulders – Yup, I fed him to rats and robbed him. So what? I will be smarter next time and won’t bother other gamers. As for your gear and weapon, they were brand-new when you got them. Damn that home-bred jedi! What can you tell me about Grim the Inconsiderable?

  - Grim the Inconsolable – Keira corrected me – He is one of local NPCs but he usually turns up here in the late evening. He always comes in through the back door. Greets only the saloonkeeper and he’s said to be a gloomy guy, reserved and not talkative at all. As a rule he sits in the corner, looks around and gets drunk with wine.

  - Is it the legend? – I wonder with sarcasm – About a local alcoholic that gets really smashed every evening? And when he’s short for money he becomes Inconsolable, right?

  - Not every evening. Only when it’s not full moon. He never turns up on full moon days. And in fact there is a legend. There is even a book, besides, here in the Cradle. It contains rather useful information. About two great heroes, Grim the Silver Hammer and Myrtle the Hurting Blade who were considered undefeatable warriors fighting for the good and fairness. Together they feasted in taverns, drank a great amount of wine while listening to bards’ praises. Together they defeated exactly ninety-nine enemies. But during the hundredth battle good luck left them forever and…

  - Let me guess! And Myrtle the Hurting Blade was killed in that battle.

  - Yes… have you read the book?

  - Nope – I shook my head – Just guessed. There must be a reason why Grim changed his noble name Silver Hammer to a miserable Inconsolable.

  - Yup. There is a great narration of their noble deeds. There is much romance in their story and loyalty to each other. They always fought together. They took part in every tournament without an exception. And they had never been separated from beginning till the very sad end. After Myrtle’s tragic death Grim buried his companion with all the solemnities and swore to never take up weapon. Grim retired but from time to time he still wishes to hear weapon clinking and enjoy a good battle performance. That’s why he is happy to organize a small competition between adventurers. So that’s the legend… In one word – he comes to the tavern, drinks half a wine barrel, then calls everybody present here to take part in a spontaneous tournament.

  - Wait! So we are just like they used to be… - I pronounced slowly, I seem to understand something – Ninety-nine victories in fights against mobs, the first party, I’m a man and you’re a woman…

  - Oh, have you finally noticed? – Keira exclaimed pressing her hands to her cheeks – Mu goodness! You’re more attentive than I expected!

  - St
op mocking – I waved away nearly dropping the mug from the table to the floor. – So, as you said, each of our deeds that is similar or as you call it, ‘crossed’ to that from the legend about Grim and Myrtle, increases the value of the tournament award automatically, right? Each coincidence gives us a plus. They always fought together – so did we – the first plus. They won ninety-nine battles – so did we – another plus. They were undefeatable that means that they were never killed – so were we. Plus by plus. Grim is a man, Myrtle was a woman – one more similarity… And we’re drinking now just like they used to do! But it’s impossible!

  - What is impossible? Believe me it works.

  - I mean another thing! None of gamers can meet the whole list of all these wild conditions only if somebody has told him what to do beforehand… as in our case… we were helped, we were told what to do… Well, it’s one thing to meet these conditions! But how can a gamer know about these tiny details? Who can know about them?

  - It doesn’t matter! – Keira interrupted me – We’ve met all the conditions and the system has already considered them. That’s the essence. The only thing we must do now is to win the tournament.

  - The tournament… - I drawled – But if a person didn’t meet all the conditions, would the tournament take place?

  - It would. And there would be an award for winners. Anyone who agrees to try their hand in a competition can take part in it. But it can be a foursome battle only. A couple against a couple. A couple might be a man and a woman. But it’s not obligatory. Just a couple. ‘Locals’ are also enabled to participate if a number of gamers is not enough for even Stephen. The backyard of the tavern is used as an arena. It’s surrounded by a high fence. Protective spells and a magic dome are not necessary since there is no magic in the Cradle. Actually you can relax – we gonna fight against beginners who are just like we are. Ordinary weapon, typical gear, no combat skills. Considering our game background, good gear and your advanced eighth level I’s just a childish play for us. Have a look around, who has come here – beginners exhausted after having run the whole day in the Cradle, whose maximum level is four. All we have to do is to wait until Grim comes, then participate in the tournament and take our award. It’s like taking candy from a baby.

  - Is it? – I showed my surprise and shot a glance upon the farthest corner of the hall – Then I’m sorry to upset you. We’ll have to take candy from a strong baby who is able to give a good drubbing.

  - What are you talking about?

  - Have a look at the corner table; there is a hugging couple at it. Do you recognize anything familiar?

  - Two gamers are sitting together and hugging – Keira didn’t understand me looking at the corner obediently – There are no people sitting alone.

  - Let them hug! I don’t care. But look at their nicknames! – I hissed closing my mouth by the empty mug – And at the levels!

  The girl peered at them, swallowed with puzzlement and went bug-eyed. I even had to kick her under the table to make her stop staring at them.

  - Have you read?

  - Myrne the Hurting and Grume the Hammer. Level five and level six – Keira pronounced slowly and looked at me with her eyes opened wide.

  - Not bad for beginners, isn’t it? And their gear is as good as ours. It can’t be a pure coincidence! They got prepared for Grim’s tournament as well as we did! – I slapped – Here is your candy, baby…

  - Shiiiiit…

  - By the way, they have chosen such names for a reason. They resemble the names of the heroes who you told me about twenty minutes ago. Is it another implicit condition?

  - I don’t know – Keira shook her head in slow motion – Gosha has told me nothing about it… oh dear… - she let it slit out.

  - I know his name – I calmed down Keira – Why did you close your eyes?

  - Just a moment. Gosha is in the game. I’m sending a message to him. What a shit!

  - That’s a nice word you know! – I chuckled – Could you bring some more beer? The evening is going to be exciting.

  - Could you do it? And take some wine for me.

  - I can’t – I spread my hands open helplessly – I spent all my savings on you. Look… they are really hugging. And kissing as well!

  - What?

  - Well… perhaps it’s another secret condition… shall we do the same to increase our award bonuses?

  - What else would you like?

  - Nothing – I declined – Honestly speaking I don’t fancy kissing you. But if I must do it – I can force myself and make such a sacrifice. I just wonder if we should do the same to increase an award bonus! I am not sure that this couple with strange nicknames suddenly got inflamed with romantic feelings to each other. Just before the tournament!

  - Force yourself? A sacrifice?! You’re such a… I’m… umph… - suddenly Keira relieved and after thinking for a second, swept all empty mugs together – You must be rights in some things. I’ll buy something to drink and PM Gosha for advice…

  - Ok – I nodded losing control over my laughter bursting out. Such a nonsense situation! Keira came back in about three minutes. She looked unnaturally calm. Full mugs landed on the table with a dull sound. The girl sat down closer to me and – I didn’t realize how – nestle up to me with her body so tight to mine. What’s happening…

  - Er… I’m afraid to ask, but still – what did Gosha say?

  - In short, if I skip all his wild swear words, he said that he had known nothing about such conditions, but it was quite possible as it didn’t contradict the general outline of the legend. You see the story is romantic. Let’s kiss… what a mess I got into…

  - Only for extra payment – I added quickly and softly pushed away Keira who reached out awkwardly towards me – I don’t have such an agreement with Gosha to kiss around with every girl.

  A ‘local’ sitting next to us cracked up freely to nearly choke on his beer.

  - What?! You are such a…

  - It’s a joke! – I roared and caught Keira who jumped up and then forced her to sit down back – I just wanted you to relax. Please, take it easy! If we must kiss – let’s kiss. You see those guys have been doing this sport for two hours for some reason!

  - Are you watching them? – Keira quipped – And did you record the time? Are you sure you are not a…

  - Have a look – I interrupted her – Is it he?

  A plain door behind the counter opened quietly and a hefty man squeezed through it heavily. A real bear. A rough shock of hair is falling on his shoulders hiding a part of his face. Brown eyes are blazing angrily through clotted hair. A leather sleeveless jacket is widely open on his chest showing a simple linen shirt. The man looked around the hall from under his eyebrows and roared something indistinctly to greet the saloonkeeper who jumped up to him. Then he grabbed the nearest barrel from the shelf, picked up a huge mug by another hand and stomped heavily to the farthest table. A couple of ‘locals’ sitting there jumped on their feet quickly and darted away. They obviously didn’t want to conflict with the gloomy guest. After sitting down the giant pressed out the bottom of the barrel by one strike of his fist and dipped his mug inside. He smelled it noisily, grunted with satisfaction and swigged off the wine killing the whole one-liter vessel. Oh dear, the guy can drink, you have to hand it to him.

  - Is it he? – without looking at Keira, I asked again.

  - Yes, definitely – she whispered to reply for some reason – he looks exactly as described.

  Then it has started – I summed up watching the giant who was methodically getting loaded – All we can do now is to wait…

  Chapter 8

  Last Day in the Cradle. Night Tournament of Grim the Inconsolable. Algora Never Sleeps

  - And the winners are Rosgard and Keireya the Protectress!

  Not bad!

  I raised the weapon briskly and gave Grim salute while checking my life level:

  Life: 85/180 Mana: 95/95

  Well, that battle almost killed me and Keira s
urvived by a miracle. But for my significant life points…

  Anyway the second battle was over and a victory again.

  Leaning over a wooden low fence I picked up my rucksack, dug inside to take out a pair of meat pieces. I need to recover my life level as soon as possible. But I mustn’t touch potion so far. This is my strategic reserve.

  Keira joined me. She fell down wearily on the ground gasping for air. Her stamina is lower than mine, but hit and agility are higher. An agile bee attacking fast and retreating to hide under my protection. It’s a standard but rather effective tactics. However Keira was about to end up badly in that battle when she didn’t manage to dodge and faced a direct sword hit. She hardly stepped backwards when I parried a half-orc’s next hit by my shield. She had to maneuver hiding behind my back and waiting for an appropriate moment till the end of the battle. And I had to absorb by my shield all the hits of the half-orc acting as if he became mad. Thanks god, his partner had been lying on the ground like a limp doll and couldn’t influence the battle anyway by the moment. The gamer landing irregular hits exhausted himself and suddenly slowed down. Keira didn’t miss the chance – she finished the battle by two precise hits to our advantage. That’s what real practice of fighting against gamers rather than stupid mobs means, it’s much more valuable than any expensive gear or weapon.

  Now we have some time to relax and watch our potential enemies. Thanks all gods, Grim has chosen the simplest tournament system. To lose means to leave. No points are calculated, nothing is summed. Otherwise the tournament would last long and the majority of gamers would go ‘off’. At the beginning of the tournament I counted sixteen couples eager to participate. Only eleven of them consisted of gamers, the rest five were ‘locals’. After the first round of battles only eight couples of fighters were left. All the ‘locals’ dropped out safely and joined the crowd of spectators. Only the gamers were left. Such a offhand down selection held by Grim who was personally responsible of choosing rivals for a coming battle. Pure cheating. But I wasn’t complaining.