To find forum threads elated to my nickname did not take very long. As well as a fan site— made professionally, with taste. I stayed there for a long time, and carefully looked at all sections of the site— I read the names of all the collected videos and found many of the brightest moments in my gaming life forever imprinted on the global network. Whisper hadn’t lied.
After another hour, on the title page of the site appeared a message about “cool” new videos, and I went to see what was there.
Now, sipping a beer I had taken from the refrigerator, I saw the last record in the game, added literally ten minutes ago. Most entries seemed to me cool fantasy thrillers from the “moderator”” Whisper, in which the protagonist was one Rosgard. I was no stranger to the event— a fight with a giant bog turtle. But now I was watching from Whisper’s side, standing on a tiny island and seeing myself battling the water monster with combat spells and lightening want. Covered in dirt, my face distorted in an evil grimace, the bog-creature clinging to my leg and its heart-rendering screech. Hm… and the recording of the epic ending— the fall of the fiery meteor. The complete victory of good versus evil. Yeah, right…
There was no account of our conversation after the battle, not a hint. Actually, not a single mention of our careless conversation about sharing the spoils. The record immediately jumped to our discussion of Lizanna the Ravishing, that damn dramatic and erotic actress… Oh Whisper!
There, the video ended, and I came back to the list of records and found another entry, uploaded only recently. The name was promising: Armageddon!!! That’s right, with three bold exclamation marks.
I already knew what was going to be in the video, but still clicked and, while the video was loading, ran for the next bottle of beer. Well, let’s take a look at this great Armageddon!
The clever Whisper had carved his pacing around the swamp out of the video. The video started right from the time that I stood face to face with the ranger of the Sleepless clan, and the fiery cobra was formed behind my back. There was my doomed sigh, and the words “There’s something behind me, isn’t there, Whisper? Something bad, right?” His short answer, after which I fast forwarded almost to the end of the episode where I yelled wildly: “Shut up and run! It’s gonna blow!” and then disappeared in a flash of teleportation, carried away to safety.
I left.. but Whisper had stayed… the recording shuddered after my disappearance. Then the player moved his attention to the swelling pillar of fire. The yellow flame flushed abruptly, and quickly started to blacken. Then followed an unbearable bright flash, a deafening roar, and the earth trembled and shook in anticipation of an incipient earthquake. A barely audible cry from Whisper, “Bara…” and a snow white radiance blooded the entire screen. The breakthrough of divine fury.
-- So much for that! – I grumbled— Damned idiot!
It seemed that Whisper did not had time to escape, and had been hit by a blow of incredible power. Damned thrill-loving amateur.
I sniffed snidely, leaned back from the computer screen and thought.
The Sleepless clan. A powerful organization, one of the strongest in Valdira. A clan overgrown with legends. Compared to the Albatross clan, who are just pathetic birds.
And Whisper’s unfinished cry “Barra…” is another one of the legends of the Sleepless clan. And the reason for the endless gossip about plagiarism, and the Sleepless clan’s lack of their own ideas. Whisper had tried to shout the name of his native clan’s Citadel. He wanted to go back to the castle, closed for all but full members of the Sleepless clan— there, in which no other citadels could breach, not even new clan recruits, who had not yet earned their stripes.
I scratched an eyebrow and again moved to the computer, looking for the right link. Here it is… a click, and I, with some reverence, witnessed this incredible construction.
Barat-gadur. I have seen this many times before. Not personally— in pictures hung in hotels and taverns.
The dark and gloomy fortress was located in the center of the volcanic plateau of the central continent of Valdira. Grotesquely deformed peaks, black clouds and red stone stretching high into the sky, wrapped in thunderclouds. A peak topped with a fiery eye. An eye with a pupil on top of a wide, dark red beam. The symbol of the Sleepless clan and, at the same time, a powerful artifact of detection, seeing for several kilometers in perimeter. The eye was only owned by the Sleepless. An artifact with a unique appearance.
Hence the mean gossip of the other players. The appearance of the fortress was brazenly stolen. After all the grim peak of the fortress was coined by one of the greatest writers of all time, in whose imagination was created a fortress of Barat-dur, in which dwelt the evil dark lord Sauron. The Sleepless clan had created for itself the exact same fortress, only slightly changing its appearance and its name.
As far as I can remember, there were only two clan Citadels which were never taken by enemy attack. Barat-gadur of the Sleepless clan and the Dodecahedron of the Diamond Hammer clan. But recently, the Dodecahedron ingloriously fell— literally. Yes, and it split, justifying it second name— Egg. And from now on, only one clan stronghold still remained standing. Barat-gadur. I am confident that from such an achievement, the clan had received some kind of reward from the Immortals. Or the honorary title… hm…
Spending another two hours on the gathering of information, I concluded that no one suspected me as Navigator. The gossip was more than enough, but fortunately, the recent incidents and Lizanna the Ravishing was more than enough to eclipse all the rest of my exploits. Most people switched to this theme. And today, the break in divine magic was mostly attributed with me, better adding to the confusion. I can say that I am lucky. But it is better not to appear in cities in the near future. Not with my nickname still on everyone’s lips…
Having come back to the forum, I pointed to a section of personal messages and wrinkled my face as though having bitten into a sour apple.
More than seven hundred personal from complete strangers to me. Read them? No. Otherwise, the computer would not go off until the next morning. Better to read the gaming news. Let’s see what is happening in the world. The gaming world.
All hell released in Ravendark Swamp! Divine Wrath!
This much was already known to me. But the news still held the top spot on the main page of the game forum. I imagined how many players were now roaming the recently deserted and useless swamp, breaking through acid rain and molten lava— dying, I suppose, like flies— divine combat magic is nothing to play with. But the possible bonuses are worth a few deaths.
Finding a link to the news, I clicked and soon stared, dumbfounded, at a completely unfamiliar terrain. This was not a swamp! Nothing like that! A solid black and green swirling haze of smoke and pillars of crimson flame. Rapidly rushing over this horror were large winged shadows. Players mounting all types of living creatures, ranging from the usual giant birds and ending with griffins, and even dragons. One by one, the players attempted to break through to land, hidden by smoke, disappearing for a few moments in the toxic haze and again soaring out to the clear sky. But not always— I saw a Valkyrie riding a bright scarlet, scaly serpent with webbed wings as he dove into the swirling mist and in a moment, there was a blinding flash. The rider did not reappear. Bad luck. Swallowed by the divine flame.
There was one more link to the live broadcast, offering a look directly from the ground. Right. Those players who did not possess the valor of infinite life points, and who could not dive down from the sky… a short dive down to grab whatever comes to hand, and a sharp dive up. A delicate operation, requiring accuracy and incredible luck. Others, powerful and thick players packed with resistance gear, preferred to slowly move forward, step by step, overcoming all obstacles.
A lot more danger, but also a much greater chance to get the spoils. Healer magicians would not last long— one stroke of divine magic and all their miserable life points will be reset immediately. Only the tanks, it seemed, would brave the hellish inferno. Eve
n better, high level paladins… hm… but what am I saying? Low level players have nothing to do with this place. Only to enviously view it from the sidelines.
And just beyond the perimeter, aggr players were lining up, just waiting for a chance to seize the treasure hunters. To rob them. Everyone was trying to snatch their piece of the buttered, hot cross buns.
Finally turning off the computer screen with some bitterness, I went to the window and, pushing back the curtains, took a long look into the yard. My head was buzzing, my body in pain. Now to sleep for a good twelve or so hours, to get properly dressed, and walk around the city. To visit the park, wander around the paths, sit in any café and stupidly eat ice cream. To meet an attractive girl, have a beautiful evening… What the hell are all my thoughts about Valdira for?
Looking up facts about myself, worrying, writhing like an eel in a frying pan… for what? For the fictional world? For the sake of the world which can be destroyed with one careless press of the “delete” button?
Hell…
Shaking my head, I slapped myself on the cheeks a couple of times, sharply closed the curtains, and muttered:
-- Leave it alone, sailor! You want the park— so we’re gonna have the park! But now to sleep!
Falling onto the bed, I hugged the pillow and immediately passed out— blissfully affected by the food and couple of beers. And in addition, my general fatigue. Sleep…
-- And why the hell did I come here, I wonder? – I muttered, squinting painfully in the bright sunlight— My damn vampiric existence…
The city park. Surprisingly well maintained, with lots of old trees and shady asphalt paths. There was even a large pond and some ducks swimming peacefully. There was no shortage of comfortable benches, and so I sat on one of them. But relaxation and pleasure from the contemplation of natural species in the area, well— let’s just say that did not work. My eyes constantly searched the bushes and trees in search of monsters. They automatically clung to every blade of grass sticking out of the ground— what if this is a rare medicinal herb, which can be expensive if sold? And what about this little red stone? Ugh…! This is not a forecast— it’s the final diagnosis, my friend! But we will not surrender— we will fight the approaching schizophrenia! We are real! We will fight against the harmful virtuality enslaving our minds! To the beat of these proud thoughts, I took the label off of the creamy chocolate ice cream I held in my hand and, leaning on the broad bench, took the first bite. Good! Thinking a little, I took my cell out of my jeans and turned it on. If someone suddenly calls— which is extremely doubtful— I will have it on me. It’s the mobile I haven’t used since the time of my dismissal from work. Only my former colleagues and a couple of best friends have the number, let alone remember my existence. Well, okay. I will continue to enjoy the ice cream and try to get even the semblance of a sun tan on my vampiric face. The city is not the tropics, but still…
Br-r-r-ing! The sharp and piercing call broke my tranquility when I had eaten only about half of the ice cream. The number, unknown.
-- Hello?
-- Ros!
-- Your voice sounds somewhat familiar— I vaguely informed the person on the other end, biting into the ice cream.
-- Freak!
-- Goodbye— I politely said, and pressed the end call key.
Br-r-r-ing!
-- Hello?
-- Don’t throw down the phone like that!
-- What am I an idiot to throw my mobile on the ground— I was offended.
-- It’s me! Vlas!
-- You again?! – I was surprised.
-- Ros!
-- Vlas?
-- Well, don’t be angry! I wasn’t thinking… ugh! Wasn’t thinking! You are right, I’m an asshole!
-- What are you talking about?
-- About the swamp! And how I messed up… well, forgive me okay? -- boomed Vlas— I won’t do it again! That’s my word!
-- Don’t be ridiculous— I snorted— Where did you even learn those words, “forgive me” and “my word?”
-- Let’s have a drink, eh? – proposed Vlas— We’ll drink and forget all the insults. All on me— drinking and some food and a place to sit and talk.
-- No, no, no – I refused— No offense, Vlas. But now, it’s early in the morning actually.
-- Let’s start with a light beer – suggested he, after a little thought.
-- Maybe a little later— I answered— but thanks for the offer. I appreciate it. Better if you tell me something— where did you get my cell phone number? I didn’t call you from it, after all.
-- What do you mean, where? From Barabara Pavlova!
-- Eh-h-h-h! – I winced, looking sourly at the ice cream, which had become tasteless.
-- You left her your number, after all, in case of a fire or flood— reminded Vlas— She’s a cool old lady, so responsive. And so interested in you— where did you move out to, why did you go, the like.
-- Eh-h-h-h!
-- I stopped by to see you— well, after that event. And you’d moved out! What the hell did you do that for anyway?!
-- Because of you— I said with a chuckle.
-- Huh?! The hell do you mean?! I told you, I didn’t mean it…
-- Vlas! – I interrupted— Calm down! It was a joke! I just wanted a change of scenery. I have not sold the old hut, I just went away for a while. Like a vacation. Rest.
-- But you’re in the city?
-- Yeah— I said, not daring to lie in the middle of the city park— You could say that.
-- Ha! And when you’re on vacation, you should be drunk! Let’s drink!
-- Fuck off with the drinking, you alcoholic!
-- Alcoholic yourself! You can drink some Coke or something, and eat a bit of steak. Do you want to arrange a getaway? With a bathhouse, kebabs, a cold pool and hot girls… and you can rest and talk at the same time.
-- Let’s talk— I said— I promise. But later. Vlas, I do not want to talk about Valdira now. Not a word. Not even half a word. I am resting from Valdira. Body and soul. You understand?
-- Well, I guess yeah. What did you do to that swamp, you bastard?! It looks like the aftermath of a nuclear war! A crater and everything! And the inconsolable swamp creatures roaming around in the poisonous fog! Muttering your name in between every other swear word!
-- Not one word about Valdira— I remember— Better if you go take out the garbage or sweep!
-- Why you…
-- That’s all. Good luck, brother— I said— No hard feelings, okay?
-- Okay… but remember. You promised.
-- I remember, I do. Alright.
Phew… I have not forgotten and nothing is forgotten. And the ice cream has started to melt…
Br-r-r-ing! Br-r-r-ing! The devil! Not even five minutes passed!
-- Vlas what the hell! – I barked into the phone, not looking at the screen.
-- I am not Vlas! – a resentful voice sounded, dripping with so much anger that I cautiously moved the phone away from my ear— I am Kira!
-- Hello— said I, after a long pause— Let me guess— you got the number from Barbara Pavlova?
-- Uhuh. Where are you?
-- How are you?
-- Fine! Where are you, Ros?!
-- Kir… I do not want to talk about Valdira— said I with a broken sigh— I just don’t want to, you know?
-- Forget Valdira! Vlas already rung me, he said that you don’t want to talk about it!
-- How… quick he is.
-- Where are you?
-- Why should I…
-- Ros are you that stupid!? I just want to see you! Don’t you understand?! I am not feeling well!
-- Dope again?!
-- Ros! You…
-- Sorry sorry. Why are you yelling? An unsuccessful joke, I’m sorry. I’m in a city park, eating ice cream and watching the ducks. By the pond.
-- Be there soon!
-- Alone? – I asked, almost too late.
-- No, damn it, wi
th a bunch of witnesses! I can deal with you myself! Just don’t go anywhere!
A short beeping and I returned to the ice cream… from which was left only a sticky wooden stick. So that was that…
What the hell did I tell Kira where I was for? And why did I continue to sit here? What’s happening to me? She’d going to deal with me… hm…
And what’s more— how frightfully quickly had Vlas reported the conversation to Kira. With such incredible seed…
Mechanically throwing the remnants of ice cream into a trash can, I fished out a handkerchief from my pocket and carefully began to clean my fingers of the sticky-sweetness.
-- Rostislav?
I turned and abruptly looked at a tall blond girl, looking at me with an unclear expression. Standing beside her, holding her by the arm, was a very intelligent-looking man to whom I did not pay attention. I knew the woman. Elena. My ex-wife.
-- Elena? – said I, with no less surprise— Hm… what’s good with you? How’s your momma doing?
-- Rostislav, you know perfectly well how much I dislike all of this jargon— Elena winced— Be so kind, do not distort the English language.
Well— her whole family of intellectuals did hold those high standards. The dad was some kind of minor professor, and the mother associated with an ancient history. No large about of money was amassed, but no less rife with pretense and arrogance. The apartment was lined with high bookshelves and thick and impressive folios. Elena was a true child of this family— both in blood and in spirit.
Thoughtfully sucking my teeth, I grinned and spread my hands, repenting:
-- Guilty, guilty. How are you?
-- Thank you, all is well— replied my ex— This is Andrei Vasilievich. My good friend.
-- Nice to meet you, Rostislav— Andrei V. flashed me a bright smile and once again switched to Elena— I sincerely hope that our acquaintance will evolve into… into a real friendship, Elena.
-- Where did you say it will grow? – I blurted, and immediately waved my hands— Oh! Sorry! I apologize! Saying some bullshit… Oh! The jargon again… Well, I will not disturb you. Enjoy your long stroll along the water. But the duck sounds might very well ruin it, you know? Elena, with your permission, I think I’ll shuffle along. I urgently, very urgently need to escape, you know? Ciao!
The Way of the Clan 3 (World of Valdira) Page 14
