The Way of the Clan 3 (World of Valdira)

by Dem Mikhaylov

  -- Out… out of the swamp… — admitted the creature, and I could hardly contain a hysterical chuckle as he went on— Thank you good people! I have to go— to catch some fish!

  -- But there’s no fish here! – I couldn’t resist.

  -- What do you mean? – the creature was amazed, jabbing his finger into the swamp— There’s a whole lot of fish!

  -- Alright – I winced, as though having eaten a sour berry— Go… bog monster. Thank you again for your gift. Hello to your wife and kiddos. Good luck!

  -- And good luck to you! – the water creature grinned with needle-sized teeth. With one graceful leap, he was gone into the water— disappeared without a trace.

  An so only the three of us remained. Myself, Whisper, and the giant relic of armor.

  -- What kind of shells are those, anyway – asked the idly curious member of the Sleepless clan.

  -- I don’t know— I confessed— Let’s see…

  A bunch of treated iridescent shells.

  Type: Decoration.

  Description: A large bunch of iridescent seashells, which may be used as a beautiful necklace. Bog Creature tribes use these shells as currency. One rainbow shell counts for twenty gold coins, and can be exchanged in any bank in Valdira. Remember: If you are a trader who wants to buy a product from the Bog Creatures, these brisk water dwellers will not accept gold or silver. When worn like a necklace, these will give you a lot of respect.

  Minimum Level: None

  Object Class: Normal!

  Effects: +10 to reputation with the marsh tribes.

  Durability: 100/100

  Having narrated the description to Whisper, I shrugged my shoulders:

  -- Seems like ordinary money to me. Only they need to be converted. Should I give you half?

  -- Nah— the player laughed— Don’t break the necklace. Leave it for yourself. What am I gonna do with that? By the way— I don’t mind about what we get. But if you refuse, I’ll take it for myself anyway. Better that it doesn’t go to waste, right?

  -- What’s valuable there? – I inquired, against my will.

  -- The most valuable? The carapace. If we’re talking real wages, that shell would be taken off your hands for no less than 400 greens. Masters always need that type of material, and it’s here in heaps.

  -- Armor? – I guessed.

  -- Yup. Armor and shields. Durable, resistant to physical and magic damage and lighter than metal. They’re bought more quickly than they’re sold. There are also twelve turtle claws. Approximately ten bucks apiece. They’d work for short bone swords or daggers filled with poison for assassins. And the two eyes… I have no idea what they are good for. But terrible looking eyes, and large… probably can sell them to the alchemists, either way.

  -- Let’s do it this way— said I, after a brief hesitation— for me the claws and the eyes, and the rest is all yours entirely. What do you say?

  -- I told you— no pretenses at all— replied whisper, and I could not help but chuckle.

  -- I’d like to see how you plan on dragging that shell. It’s certainly not in the class of wearable items. A cart is needed, or a pair of griffins. Well, or a dragon…

  -- So that’s why I’m leaving the shell to you— I laughed— I can’t carry it. So I’m taking the claws then?

  -- I told you— take everything if you want.

  -- That’s your business— leaning towards the carapace and took, from the open window, the turtle claws and two tremendous, bloodshot eyes.

  -- Are you very generous or just disinterested? – I asked, without looking at my comrade— You just spent your scrolls and used up a very expensive sphere. You used them on a small boss, which is usually better felled by a large group and without any financial hindrances.

  -- Not the former nor the latter— grinned Whisper, easily jumping onto the ground— I am just practical. Just the screenshots and video of this battle I can sell for a good amount. And did you keep a record?

  -- No— I shook my head— You’ll earn ten bucks at best. The network has fights which are more interesting than two guys in a swamp, fighting an overgrown turtle.

  -- What are you on about? – he looked at me in surprise— What does the turtle have to do with it?

  -- And what are you talking about? – I said, surprised in turn.

  -- About you! I fought side by side with a legend! Right next to you!

  -- Huh? What did you call me? Or you’re not talking about me now? About the bog creature?

  -- To hell with the beaver! You really do not know?!

  I looked at Whisper’s genuinely puzzled face, and desperately tried to think. Was it made clear in the hotels, where I got the “Navigator” achievement? No. Otherwise, the Baroness would have behaved very differently from the way she had just an hour ago. What was it, then?

  -- What don’t I know about?

  -- About the forum topic “Rosgard— Valdira’s new legend!” And especially about your fansite! That’s what!

  -- What topic!? Which site?! What legend?! – I threw up my hands— Whisper! I’m sorry, but you’ve been misled.

  -- It’s you who has been misled buster, not I!— cried Whisper, and added as an afterthought— Sorry about the jargon— sometimes it slips.

  -- I too, sometimes— I reassured him.

  -- Yes… so I’ve seem— nodded Whisper— No one in my memory has ever sent the Baroness to…

  -- Well, I did not send her anywhere…

  -- But about the forum topic, as I said, I do not know— I confessed— I have not heard anything of the kind.

  -- You should go and read it then. Look at the records. Especially at the site which is dedicated to you, there is a lot of info— mockingly advised Whisper— In brief— plenty of messages about you and your misadventures. In chronological order. Wait… what was it there… huh… Winning the tournament… did it happen?

  -- It happened…

  -- There are a bunch of photos, and a full video of the final battle. By the way… you were swinging an axe there, and now you’re using magic… but the tournament happened, right?

  -- I told you— yes. I got lucky.

  -- Well, and then… and then you were recorded rushing at full speed with a maiden in your arms, and a reaper following after you. A real knight in shining armor, only sweaty and without a white horse. Taken from outside of the gates and also from the inside. And the reaper! Did it happen?

  -- Keep going… but yes— it happened. A failure in the game.

  -- Failures don’t happen frequently though. Then the Temple of Tribulation, where that same maiden pulled you into the blazing mouth of the statue. You seemed surprised there, by the way. You’re going to tell me this didn’t happen? I’m not even talking about how you arrived at the temple— the forum full of videos of you and the girl as you dismounted a griffin on the stairs. People tend to get there on foot… but this stuff, it’s nothing major, I’ve done better things.

  -- Huh… nothing else then?

  -- That’s just the beginning! Now for my favorite record of you— I laughed like a horse, when I saw the video.

  -- Record?

  -- In short— there you are, quarreling with some guy, and he is yelling, and you tell him: “Calm down! Demons don’t like it when players interrupt the gameplay of others.” He answered some nonsense and then, out of the blue, the demon touches the collar and carries him away… Total gloom… Now we changed your phrase a bit, but all of Valdira repeats it: “Calm down, the demons won’t like it.” Ha!

  -- Hmph— I said… -- But where did you get all this?!

  -- From what I understand— at first, several videos were posted online on different branches of the forum. Then someone noticed the coincidence and they came together to collect all the information, until what happened was, well, what you see actually happened.

  Then others joined, added their materials— and even aggr players subscribed. In general, you’ve become a star— and after what happened yesterday, the st
ar exploded and turned into a supernova. Can you guess?

  -- Lizanna?

  -- Herself. Lizanna the Ravishing. Your passionate kiss in a crowd of thousands. And how she cried: “My love.” Listen… did you really sleep with her? They say you taught her all kinds of … uh-uh… things. They say, you were specially invited for this purpose.

  -- Huh!? O-o-o! O-o-o, damn! This is so…

  -- How was she? Great, huh? – Whisper moved closer with interest – How?

  -- No how!— the cry broke from deep in my soul.

  -- Completely terrible? You didn’t like it, huh?

  -- Look! I didn’t… Stop… You’re writing down our conversation now, right? – I asked, looking into Whisper’s eyes, which were filled with simplicity— You’re writing it…

  -- Writing… -- admitted Whisper with a sigh— What if you say something interesting… for future generations…

  -- I’ll say something— I nodded— I’m going! And good luck with the shell. And thanks for the help.

  Waving goodbye, I broke the group and, leaning on my staff, walked away, holding on to the melted edge of the huge crater to support myself. The swamp was huge, but it was narrow— if I continued to move in this direction I would soon find myself by the hut.

  -- You couldn’t have done it without me, huh? – snickered Whisper as I retreated.

  -- Of course I could have!— said I, without batting an eye. I had never seen the website, but I didn’t burn with the desire for the player of the Sleepless clan to be portrayed there as my savior from evil turtles. Damn paparazzi… though, the man seems good— especially, no pretenses.

  I turned back and caught the moment when, wrapped in a translucent mist, Whisper took one powerful leap, jumped to the side, and landed on a mound of dirt which was barely distinguishable from the swamp itself. In one leap he could cover ten meters— Not bad. Beautiful, even! At this rate, I not only couldn’t raid the swamp properly— I couldn’t even walk on regular ground. For the first time since the birth of my new character, I opened the menu and pressed the record button, not taking my eyes off of the graciously moving player. This lynx, this acrobat, enjoying all the regular benefits of physics. It is a sin not to record it…

  Ready for the next jump forward, Whisper crouched, ready to pounce. . . and with a muffled astonishment, fell heavily into the swamp, because the mound on which he stood suddenly fell to pieces.

  From the murky water leaned a clumsy eared head, sniffed, and wailed:

  -- I’m not a beaver! I’m a bog-creature!

  -- Damn you! – yelled Whisper, splashing among the leeches.

  The head with the ears jerked and sniffed, and disappeared back under the water. I sat quietly on one knee and shook with silent laughter, having difficulty restraining myself from the desire to collapse in the mud and swim in it.

  But I must pay my dues— from the swamp the clan member climbed deftly and quickly. Soon he was at the next, more rugged island, angrily shaking his head from side to side— looking vengefully for the bog-creature.

  Having found nothing, Whisper turned to me and, shaking his chain, yelled:

  -- Did you see that?!

  -- I even recorded it— I shouted back.

  -- Recorded?! This?! Listen…

  -- Good luck! – I waved, chuckling, and walked on. I walked ten paces and turned around again.

  The almost imperceptible Whisper was again in motion. Another jump, a quiet splash in water, the swaying of a tree about fifty meters away from the crater, and among the swaying branches flashed a half-translucent silhouette. He flashed and disappeared. I suddenly felt myself like a famous and inflated commando, pursued at the heels by a foreign bounty hunter. This Whisper was a real predator. Sent shivers down my spine. There’s the jungle, here is the swamp, but I had become acquainted with my entourage… I hope, that he does not need my skull and spine.

  Turning away, I shuffled forwards, stepping over beached carcasses of fish and snake. Oh yeah— a short wave of the hand, and the garden snake plops into the water. The wand goes into my bad, some combat spells into my hands. All this I did on the machine, while my head was busy with Whisper. This assassin did not remain near his battle trophy. Surely he handed it to his clan, and continued to move on behind me. That devil…

  Pursued at my heels by an invisible predator I slowly penetrated deeper and deeper into the darkness of Ravendark Swamp… well! It’s even more interesting this way!

  Chapter 5.

  Hut, Hut…

  The cursed bog didn’t even think of running out of its expanse. On the contrary, with each step, it became darker and deeper. The grassy mounds and islands became less and less frequent. I often thought of the teleportation in my bag and, gritting my teeth, fought the wind desire to send this damn job to hell.

  All this for a single job?! What kind of job is this? I had already spent half the day trekking through the swamp. Half a day! I had had enough of the variety of local animals. Plenty of flying, crawling, floating animals. Once, in the misty haze, a huge silhouette flashed and I quickly changed course, walking away from the hulk. Maybe it was a harmless herbivore— but there is always the chance that it was a giant predator, just waiting for delicious prey to climb into its mouth. How tired I am… but surrender? Never! Hold on, Ros! Be patient! Sing!

  -- EH, what a tin my life is, damn this swamp! – I improvised enthusiastically, leaning my body on the knotty stick are barely pulling my legs out of the swamp— I live like a toadstool! But I want to fly, to fly, I want to fly!

  -- I am the bog creature. The bog creature! – I heard a familiar, mocking voice.

  -- Eh-h-h! – I sighed, sinking into the swamp deeper.

  -- If only someone talked to me in this bog! – the invisible singer did not let up his lament— My friends are all leeches and frogs!

  -- How disgusting YOU are! – I wheezed, letting go of a flexible vine and clinging to a piece of blackened driftwood, which was sticking out of the water.

  -- Hey! That’s not how the song goes!

  -- Shut up!

  -- Oh-ho-ho!— said Whisper.

  The tree, which was bending to the ground, creaked and bent slightly. That would be good… let the swamp run out of trees! Let him swallow some mud!

  Even so, there were a few advantages— my stamina had increased by two units. Which was really not bad. But what a chore… the main thing is to hold on, keep holding on… Come on Ros, let’s have a song again!

  -- I am the creature of the bog!— I sang in a strained voice, at the same time crawling through the mud with my proudest posture, “on all fours.”

  -- Nobody messes with your sog! – Whisper didn’t miss a beat, and began to laugh merrily.

  -- What a bummer!— I gasped, falling flat. And no doubt Whisper was going to “record” my torment. What was it that he called me, again? A gamer legend? Right… the famous legend crawling through the dirt, and falling into the muddy water neck-deep.

  Sprawled in the mud, I waited until the fatigue scale went from an anxious red to at least yellow. Gazing at the dreary, misty distance, I did not see any hut, as I had expected. Damn it…

  Without getting up, I pulled out a map and nearly jumped— on the parchment, loomed the bend of an island, and the sharp corner of some building. At first glance, I saw nothing but a dense shroud of fog, which did not reveal any details. But there was a hut, all the same!

  The only thing which separated me from the hut was the bubbling muck of the swamp, air bubbling to the surface. Doesn’t matter! There were some bent trees and vines. As long as there were vines, I wouldn’t perish.

  Alright, shall we…

  I got to the island in a matter of only twenty minutes. Dirty, mucky, and bleeding too— Leeches. Giant leeches which practically sucked me dry. There were countless of them around the island. Scurrying glossy black bodies with tremendously toothy mouths. I did not even try to kill them— there were too many of these parasites. So, I made my way to th
e destination: a flexible magic vine in one hand, and a continuously working healing spell in the other. Good thing they did not follow me onto the shore, but only angrily lined up at the coastline. Damned bloodsuckers! My garden snake, however, did not survive the encounter, perhaps ending up as food.

  I wiped my hands on my pants— a habit from the “real” world— and slowly took the first step. To start, I fully regained my health level, and looked to my rapidly growing level of mana. I shuffled the spells, placing combat spells in each hand. Huh — battlemage Rosgard, ready to continue his adventures.

  There was no sign of fog in front of me. No mist around the tall island at all. In the center, there was a rickety hut built of blackened rotting logs, and a pair of windows on either side of a tightly locked door.

  All was overgrown with moss— desolation everywhere, and no hint of any residents, aside from snakes and insects.

  -- Silence…-- I mused, looking carefully around in search of a dirty trick.

  Where was the enemy? Could it really be so simple? Come on…

  Peering at the blackened logs, I sighed in relief. A common tree— could easily catch fire. Not out of the “indestructible” class. Basically— start a fire close to the hut, and the whole building would come down soon after. Or let loose a couple of “fireballs.” My “flaming coal” would even be perfect for this.

  To ensure that I had really understood correctly, I went into the job menu and familiarized myself with the task again:

  “Burning the Past!”

  Go the Ravendark Swamp, get close to its heart, and burn an old abandoned cabin.

  Minimum requirements for completion: to burn the hut.

  Reward: 1200 Experience points.

  Everything clear and concise. Find it and burn it. No ambiguity here.

  Well, even better for me!

  Stretching my hand out to the hut, I activated a spell and from and fiery coals fell from my hands with which I made a dotted line along the walls and rotten roof. And again— a fiery dotted line which I crossed the opposite way. It was enough— soon big clouds of white smoke rose from the hut, and I sensed a burning odor, while several small tongues of flame began to eat into the hut, each second with more confidence.