The Way of the Clan 3 by Dem Mikhaylov
The Way of the Clan 3
Chapter 1
The hill met me with darkness, emptiness and silence. Just as I like…
Behind me— the closed door of the chapel. In front— the void, blackening.
Under my feet— a smattering of ice and snow, left over from the gust of wind which had swept right through me.
But the most importantly, to my right— a staircase of thick slabs of stone, leading to the foot of the mountain.
It was of utmost importance for me now to keep a relatively straight course towards a night of rest.
Pressed to my chest, the nameless wolf cub jerked in his sleep with his paw— sniffed— and went back to a peaceful sleep. Parting my old tattered coat, I carefully wrapped the puppy and pressed him to my chest, nodded goodbye to the doors of the chapel, and marched towards the exit.
All we had to overcome was a steep stone staircase before us, before we would arrive at the local hotel. That was the last ounce of the journey, the last effort, after which I could finally relax.
I did not get even a few dozen steps ahead, and was immediately hit with a cold and biting wind, forcing me to stagger. In my ears I heard the wind whistle, and a ball of snow touched my ribs and back. Feeling the icy touch, I smiled wryly. You could not confuse these sensations for anything.
Well, it was to be expected. Walking down the seemingly endess staircase, I lifted my face to the sky and whispered:
- Yes, yes, I get it. I’m going already. Wait a little— do not be angry.
The breeze snorted in disbelief, threw a handful of fallen leaves at my face, and sped away.
Glancing behind me, I became convinced that, in the last few hours, the Tribulation temple had lost its appeal. The stone faced Myrtles stopped crying precious gems and rubies; and all the “pilgrims” had instantly vanished. Far below, a few small figures rushed to the foot of the mountain, where a few sparse lights were still lit in the miniature mountain village.
Another gust of air pushed me forwards, and this time the whisper was already reproachful. With a muffled laugh, I quickened my pace. There the harbinger of Decay was visiting me. A long time since we’d met.
Valdira took good care of its inhabitants. Should a player stay here too long, Valdira sends a silent alert. The sudden cold touch. And, no matter where you are, you are sure to feel the chilling message— even if you’re in the sauna of in the midst of burning sands. It is a clear command: rest. It’s time for you to take a break.
No one has the right to violate your total immersion— some people run around and just “play,” but others live here and very seriously plays out the selected role, be it an archer, a hardened trader or a hoary sage. No one has the right to terminate your session without a very good reason. No one can show this command on the screen, or even a mild suggestion: “you have been here too long, please exit the game.” No one would dare to throw you out of the game unless, of course, the cocoon records failure in your vital functions or in the hardware of the cocoon.
Each moment’s stay in Valdira is payed for with a pretty penny and so it is no wonder that players try to get maximum pleasure. Or maybe, they are just too addicted and lose track of the time…
Therefore, the administration of the world of Valdira settled on a different approach. Stay in the game too long— and you will be visited by the cold, mocking breeze. Your body will move through its frosty claws as it whispers something unintelligible.
If you do not listen to the kind advice— Valdira will be offended.
At first, the colors will gradually disappear— then goes the brightness, which so many appreciate in the game world. The grass will pale, the piercing heavens will not seem so blue, but rather gray instead…
Then your weaponry will be more often miss than hit, your spells will turn into harmless zilch, your arrows will fly off-target. If you’re a master craftsman, nothing good will be made from your hands. When on a long journey— your road will seem much longer than usual.
This is the very, very beginning of Decay— and it builds momentum with each passing hour.
The very word Decay was coined by players. That is because the administration denied the existence of such a “mechanism.” All questions were met by the administration officials with a courteous smile; in the game, they announced, nothing like this exists. You are free to stay for as long as you like. There is no whispering wind, no ice claws… it is fiction, gaming legend. Well, yes— of course— who’s going to believe you?
Well, certainly not the players. The devils lie! Yet, the experience of all the players are the same; running through the body of cold, the wafting whisper, the fading brightness. Hallucinations, of course, we all can have— but not all the same hallucination! What is surprising, however, is that there is no specific time limit to be breached. At times I had been in the game for days, stopping only a couple of times to run to the bathroom and drink a bit of water. And nothing— no warning in sight. And sometimes, it is quite different. Barely a few hours, and it will take hold of you— your hair ruffles in the dissatisfied breeze. Your arrow, fired and hitting anywhere but the target.
I had successfully conquered about half of the staircase, when an alarm message caught up with me:
The enemy is near! Personage: Dort Viderrr!
The enemy is near! Personage: Ariella Fern!
At once, I saw three players who stood thirty paces from me, blocking my way. A dense group— two men, one woman. And all the raging, blood-red aggr nicknames.
Slowing down my pace, I sighed resignedly and massaged my temples. Damn— how tired I am.
What are the chances, of stumbling upon one’s enemies in the huge world of Valdira? One in a million? In a billion?
- Ah! Rosgard! – one of the figures jerked towards me— How you’ve grown!
- Hi, dark jedi— I nodded in reply, slowly taking step after step. — You’re late. The temple doors are closed.
- Yes, we know— shrugged Dort Vider, reaching for his blade— Heard it three times already from the ones late to the distribution of buns. Look, there.
-
Glancing below, I saw three silvery clouds, gently swaying above the steps in the breeze. One of the clouds seemed just about to fall over and into the abyss, far over the edge of the stairs.
- She wanted to commit suicide— the Jedi chuckled smugly, and turned to his companions — but we did not allow her this grave sin.
In order not to give up her things, I guessed.
The chasm is deep— getting to the bottom of it, finding the valuables lost among the stones and rubbish is troublesome.
The owner wouldn’t have bothered to get them either, but it would have been better than to give in to the hands of the greedy aggrs and strengthen them at one’s expense. Better to throw them into the abyss…
- You killed me! -- shrieked Ariella, deciding to join in to the solo performances— In the back! Behind! You took the tournament cloak!
Strange… they attacked me, but I was to blame…
- In the neck, but came up from behind— I corrected, with a painful grimace.
Too much pathos… Okay. I am tired of you guys, honestly. Let me pass. We had our chat.
- You…
- Quiet, Ari, quiet… -- the jedi stopped her. – Rosgard, you think we’ll let you go? You slammed me twice! This is already personal. And there are no shrubs here, behind which you so love to hide. Bare stone… a narrow path. As an option… jump into the abyss. How do you like this little story?
- Do you know him? – For the first time, the third aggr broke the silence. It seems that he was a
magician… 28th level. Not bad. The dark jedi had grown to 33. Fern had surpassed all her friends and climbed to level 36. Stubborn girl. Although a tad crazy… in my humble opinion.
- We’re waiting for you for the third hour, already— spoke the jedi, ignoring the question of his accomplice. – That’s all the talk of the forum… how to pull some players into the fire. And that one of them is named Rosgard. Even a video there. Oh, and what a stupid face you had at the moment! Though, you are grown up, already at 51st level… but nothing we can’t handle.
- Specially waited for me for three hours? – I was amazed. – Is that right?
Ignoring the question, Dort, in a slow gesture, pulled out a narrow sword from behind him, the blade gently lit with red. Enchanted. It looked impressive.
- See how the lights shine? Like a real lightsaber! Have you got one?
- Yes— I nodded, raising my hand. – Only a bit lengthier.
A wave of the hand, a short fierce hiss and into the chest of Dort Viderrr crashed a bolt of dazzling lightening. The flash was fast, and it ran up he steps in small zigzags and electrical discharges. At the bottom of the steps— a gently fluttering cloud of silver mist.
Casting a sideways look at the players, I again raised an innocuous looking wand.
- Wait a minute!
- No… no need to rush— I did not agree, releasing lightening at the magician.
The wordless mage suffered the same fate as the dark jedi, and ended up on the wet stone road as another silvery clot of mist.
Yeah… a tank with a bunch of life hits would not be hurt. With a good-resistance shield. But flimsy mages, archers and jedi… they could not stand against the power of the craft wand.
Unhurriedly I sent weapons at the rapidly fleeing girl— paused and sighed, and placed the want into the bag. Fast maiden… surely, I would miss, and spend my hard-earned charge. Yet, if I begin it, it must be ended…
With my nail, I briefly scribbled hieroglyphs on an empty box and whispered:
- Foot of Tribulation.
A quick flash— a weak and weary one, and not so bright— and I appeared at the center of a rocky square, the same place where Kira was waiting for me and where we were picked up by the griffin by the name of Lapot. Long ago, it was— back when I considered Kira my friend…
Right above my head, barely visible in the darkness of the night on the mountain, was the slope where I had stood a second ago. Turning my pace into a run, I passed over a narrow bridge and there, before me, stood the first of many steps leading to the temple of the Tribulation.
I did not have to wait long. Soon there was the noise of hasty steps and on the steps there flashed a thin female figure in the moonlight.
- Hello. – I greeted Ariella Ferns, who had almost flown at me. And, unable to resist, I continued— You know, you’re quite expensive…
The surprised elf opened her mouth awe, but, before she could say anything, a flash of lightening put an end to the conversation. Bending down, I raked the entire contents of the silver and quietly cursed to myself. Before my eyes, flashed the system message:
Overload! You are carrying too heavy of a burden! Fatigue…
I closed it quickly. Okay— somehow, I will make it to the hotel. I won’t throw out the goods, after all.
- Rosgard— So familiar, and so terrible a voice…
-
Turning around wildly, I came face to face with a gigantic figure and immediately jumped backwards, putting distance between myself and him.
Son of a bitch! Grim!
- What is it, friend? – Asked the recently turned werewolf in surprise. – You look scared. It’s me— your friend Grim. Have you forgotten, how recently you took your reward from these very hands?
Except for a black loincloth, frim was completely naked. And he looked such that any “real” bodybuilder would have died with wild envy.
- Grim— I paled and smiled, not knowing what to think. – I remember… I’m sorry. You startled me. I confused you for someone else, aha… um… what are you doing around here?
- Ahem… -- Grim, with obvious embarrassment, ran his fingers through his thick hair. — I do not know. I remember sitting by the fire, skinning deer… and then suddenly woke up in the raw stones. I heard your voice, and was drawn to you…
- Sounds strange — I noted, slightly coming to my senses. – You know, Grim, I will go, perhaps. The time is late, and god forbid we’ll run into some of the dark creatures of the night… werewolves, for example…
- Wait a minute! Wait! – Huge paws grabbed me by the shoulder, and my life scale decreased sharply by ten points. That’s tremendous strength! Ignoring my expression, at the same time terrified and bewildered, Grim rumbled excitedly…
- I’m telling you, I heard your voice in my head… I saw Myrta, as if in reality… only all in blood, screaming, her face tatters, and huge paws that flashed by her… almost like… like you were there! What could this be? A vision? Just a dream? Did you not see it?! It is no coincidence that, as soon as I woke up, I heard your voice!
- Wellll… -- I hesitated, carefully dislodging my shoulder. – What a coincidence it is!
- If you know something— say so!
- Rosgard!!! – Shouting, Dort Viderrr emerged from the night, dressed in a diaper. – Son of a bitch! I hate you! I’ll kill you!
Naked men are drawn to me today— thought I, looking at the approaching aggr.
- Do not bother!— Yelled Grim with a fierce roar, not even turning around, with a wave of his hand. Dort Viderrr was tossed into the air like a fluff of air. A short, strangled cry of bewilderment— and he was flown far away, into the gulf draped with mist.
Up to my ears carried a furious and piteous cry:
- Ro-o-OSG-ah-ah-ah-rd!
- And what do I have to do with it?— I shouted, bewildered, receiving no answer. When I turned back to Grim, who was gone. He had disappeared in a split second, without making the slightest noise.
-
Fiddlesticks!— I muttered, lurching from my place into a gallop. More like a quick and awkward hobble. The overload pressed me to the ground, but I did not give up on my stubborn struggle forwards. I glanced around,— as though I could see in this darkness.
The conversation was not finished. If Grim had so suddenly disappeared, it may well be that he is now completing his transformation into a werewolf. To save oneself from him would be a very slight possibility— but if only to make it to the private room where there lay a sleeping cub, whose father had gifted me with a great big canine. And these half-assed agro-lovers…
The lit arena flashed through the dark. Light was cast by the lantern hanging over the hotel door. The door creaked open and, with a groan of relief, I rushed inside.
I did not need to look around— all was as usual. The first floor is a tavern room with a bar, and the second is led to by carpeted stairs.
The hall is almost empty— only two tables are occupied, but a few people still sit by the fireplace looking at the cozy, digital crackling fire, sipping hot wine with spices, listening to the wind howling outside. Heaven…
I caught myself in an involuntary envy. Only recently did I come to Valdira just for this— a day of adventure in a new and unknown place, battles with monsters and strange evening gatherings in restaurants, where there are so many interesting things to be overheard…
And now?
Running, my tail between my legs. I shy away from every shadow. And what kind of game experience is this?
The sullen innkeeper nodded briefly, and I went upstairs to the second floor to the friendly and welcoming smile of the girl at the reception desk.
- Oh… hello— her smile widened, and she leaned forwards so that I could see the her rich cleavage.
- Hello— I said, squeezing past her sideways.
- Where are you going? – The offended woman pouted.
- Sleep— I answered, frantically searching for the familiar door.
- Sleeep?— Sh
e was deeply dumbstruck, placing her hands on her hips to emphasize the wasp waist, looking at me with an obvious amazement. —But …
- Good night, -- I quickly retorted, diving headfirst into the door of the private room.
- Wait… -- Her voice carried after me, but the door clicked quietly and cut it off.
Devilish love. – I whispered. – Yeah, right!
Having stripped off my cloak and thrown it into the corner, I carefully laid the wolf cub on top of it. I dumped the contents of my heavy bag onto the floor. Paying to attention to the untidy heap of things on the floor, I sat down next to it and pressed the exit icon, and only had time to think— what should I call him? Bobby, Ball, Grimsly, Kirafobich… hell… I must choose something beautiful and terrible. Okay— that’s all for later.
Flash.
Exit.
The apartment met me with silence. The same silence outside and in the stairwell. Still— the dead of night in the yard. All normal people have already been asleep for a long time. Well— or engaged in sex. And I’m in a different reality from werewolves— as well as from loving girls.
The Way of the Clan 3 (World of Valdira) Page 1
