The Way of the Clan 6: World of Valdira
Page 22
Two brave fighters. The hero and the heroine. The elf and the half orc. Above the male was the name Roaring Rumble, and above the girl with green and yellow hair, Bewitching Chara. They were so different and so similar at once. He was a mass of glowing gray metal, and she, clad in a translucent silk gown with rich embroidery. In her hands, a large book with thick red binding— and he holding what seemed like a piece of glass in each hand. That is, it wasn’t ordinary glass, of course, but only looked like it: two curved pieces of thick, transparent glass with a light orange glow.
The leader of the wolf pack, with light hair, gave a short growl and lunched forward. The ring closed in— there was nowhere to run. The moment before contact—
A long crystal tone. The orc Rumble stepped forward, pressing his body to the back of his elf partner and wrapping her in his arms. The orc’s body completely fenced her off from threat. The orc himself seemed completely unfazed because he was so well-armored— armor hung everywhere, including on his legs. If I had such armor, I wouldn’t be able to move— but Rumble didn’t seem to notice their weight. He continued to stand still, like a protective tower— which, in fact, he was. Through the transparent panels I could see the bemused smile of the elf girl, observing the actions of her enemy.
Hit! Hit! Pounce! The bodies of gray and white wolves lunged at the impenetrable shields.
Roar! Yelp!
Some of the wolves had tried to scratch their paws on the player Rumble’s armor— and had hurt themselves on the barbed spikes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the barbs had been smeared with poison. But the wolves continued to attack, obeying the growl of the leader. The giant orc continued to stand. And there was nothing more needed— his task was to defend. He also managed to exceed expectations, and wound the enemy with spikes on his armor.
Now, his partner no longer hesitated.
A flash!
Bright, orange, enormous!
V-v-a-a-a-a-ah!
And the field, at least forty acres of it, was enveloped in fire…
The howls of the animals were deafening. Entranced, I continued to look through the telescope at the dancing flames. Within them, I could see the powerful figure of the half orc, standing impassively in the midst of the fiery field. In his armored embrace, the elf stood quietly, holding an open book calmly in her hands.
Flash! Piercing blue. Just as large.
And the flames disappeared. The field was covered with a blanket of ice— a half-meter slab over the entire territory. Some of the wolves disappeared without a trace— having died after the terrible fire strike. And those who did survive turned into statues of ice. And I was again overcome by memories— I remembered fighting the Krabbers in the dark dungeons, the adrenaline boiling in my blood...
With the same ringing chime, the orc opened his arms, releasing his friend.
“Let’s go,” I ordered casually. And, after a moment, we set off.
The icy and charred earth slowly returned, and I waved to the two adventurers, receiving the same gesture in return. Nodding in approval, I changed my attention to the sky, which was still spotted with balloons and soaring birds.
Chara and Rumble completely fulfilled someone’s assignment, and they did it well— they had destroyed a particularly fierce wolf pack. Chara was a mage. That was clear. But her skill was simply spectacular— I certainly had something to envy. But did she invest anything in endurance at all? In force? In dexterity? I strongly doubted it. It didn’t matter, because she had the perfect bodyguard— the tank, with a maximum amount of stamina and no weapons.
He was like a steel mountain… with a heart of fire…
A little too poetic perhaps? Oh, Ros, how you’ve changed… maybe soon you’ll start speaking in verse… or have you already started? Eh…
Maybe it was time for a vacation? A nice sunny warm holiday with new experiences and minimal disruption? An abundance of sleep and swimming… Kira and I... only, in the real world…
Nah— we have too much to deal with first.
Alright, what’s up with my notes? I wrote about thirty or so entries, but it was mostly rubbish. I highlighted just three of them.
“Two days in a row, there was not a single little fish in Spine Ruff. As though someone had scared them away!”
“A drunken old man said that, while passing by the lake, he saw a huge fish jump out of the water, waved its fins, and joined a flock of geese migrating south!”
Alright… there was already something about an old man before. First it was just jumping out of the water, and now joining the flock of geese and flying off. Enough booze for the old man! Soon the pike would fly off to the moon… let’s see, what else?
“The angler Afrosio from the west coast recently came to a temple and made a large donation to the goddess Nayrekke, asking for protection from the terrible creatures of Naykal. Everyone heard his interesting request when he was at the temple. But Afrosio was so drunk that he could hardly stand.”
Alright… the third time the name Afrosio has appeared.
And the west coast has also been mentioned already.
As well as the islands Spine Ruff— again, not far from the western coast, according to the map available to me.
The old man had already been caught drunk twice, but I cannot believe his stories. It was a long shot that the pike, after having devoured the legendary glove, had learned to fly.
“Sir,” a servant who had temporarily replaced Strogus approached me, since the latter was with Kira. I didn’t have the steel arms of Rumble, but protected my personal trouble as best as I could.
On the tray presented to me was a folded sheet of paper. Unfolding it, I read a few lines and dismissed the servant with a nod. The entry read as follows:
“The name of the leader of the clan Lemmings Chaos is the following: Rumpelstiltskin the Miser.”
Right…
“Right,” I repeated aloud. “Right… change course to the western coast! To the Spine Ruff!”
“Yes, sir!”
The coach promptly changed course and easily ran forwards, crossing over the meadow.
“Is everything alright? Do you need help?” I asked Kira with a message.
The answer came after a minute, which already told about a lot— Kira was obviously busy.
“All good! Even great! Help isn’t necessary. And you? Kiss-kiss! PS. Gosha’s here!
“Huh,” I thought…
There was a ding. Another message…
“And Vlas is here too! And a few Albas!”
Hmm…
More acquaintances…
“He’s coming up behind us! He’s almost there! Should we shoot him?!”
I looked around and saw the impossible.
Towards us raced a mammoth…
Particularly raced.
We were moving at eighty kilometers per hour. This speed suited the mammoth Kolyvan— his thick carcass easily managed the pace, first moving slightly to the left of the wagon, and then overtaking it. On his head sat the familiar bald elf, smiling happily. On the neck sat the adventurous Kaylen, and cray saw behind her, holding onto her waist— I didn’t see his face, but was sure that he was very pleased at that. Bastard!
Bom was behind everyone, and a bog creature, who was already familiar to me, was screaming and clinging to his leg.
“There’s no-o-o-o f-f-fish he-e-ere!”
“And everything had started off so easily,” I sighed, propping up my chin with my hand. “But now they have caught up with me. Hey!” I called out to the group.
“Ros!” Bom yelled, shouting over the wind. “Are you with us?”
“What?!” I almost choked. “With you? I thought you were with me!”
“Nope! We were hired as a security team for the area!” The orc shook his head. “They pay us well! Plus, all the loot is ours. By the way— why do you need all this pomp and circumstance? You could have just gotten a horse! And when is Doc gonna be back?!”
“Doc is in Tishka!” I y
elled, waving to Cray and Kaylen. The bald elf was useless— he was trying to turn a wolf into a ghost. “I didn’t know you needed him!”
“Yeah, we didn’t have time to say anything! We’ll be okay! Are you sure you’re not with us? We have a lot to do! The task!... Killing the salt golems!”
“I cannot,” I shook my head. “Good luck, guys!”
“Got it! Do you know about the evening in the restaurant?” Bellowed the Orc. “And tomorrow I’m sending you your share!”
“I know! Alright! Why is the bog-creature with you? Hey, Stump-eyes!”
“Oo-oo-oo,” the outcast bog creature wailed, so familiar to me from another chapter of my adventures. But Stump-eyes looked different now— thinner, and even more gaunt.
“This is our water scout!” Cray said finally. “For fish!”
“Let’s turn!” Bom waved a thick paw, indicating the direction.
“Good luck to you!”
“Ros, what job are you doing? Is it interesting?” Kaylen couldn’t resist. “What is it? Tell me!”
Orbit visibly stiffened at the word, his knife freezing millimeters from the shaggy throat of a doomed wolf.
“No,” I answered quickly, not having to strain my voice. Thank goodness the Kolyvan ran fast— the distance between us was diminished. “A local fishing contest. Buying a home. Lots of paperwork. Keep at your job! It’s much better!”
Shaking his head sadly, the elf thrust his blade into the throat of the terrible wolf. With a final wail, the digital beast died. At least he’s having some fun… except the face of Orbit seemed a little bemused, as though he knew that I was telling the truth only in part. But he said nothing, and the mammoth abruptly turned away on a narrow path overgrown with spruce trees. Watching the retreat of the prehistoric animal, I shook my head and waved at him. I nodded to the driver, who had taken his hand off of the hilt of a sharp dagger on his belt:
“We will continue on the path. The west coast. Spine ruff.”
“Yes, sir. This is a whole series of islands. We’ll find ourselves there within an hour. But, with your permission, I would like to remind you that you must meet with the mayor.”
“I can’t,” I shrugged. “Time is running out. On to the western shore.”
“Yes, sir.”
I wasn’t interested in the successes of my newly established fishing league. I’m sure everything was being taken care of, and I wasn’t expecting to be in first place. And not in second, either. It was simply impossible. And my whole idea of doing this incognito had collapsed to hell— therefore, I could only put on a light smile and take everything with a grain of salt. I put my face in the flow of warm air and sipped wine from a small silver flask.
I hoped dearly that the four comrades with the mammoth would not find themselves in a new adventure soon. There was no need… because in theory we were all very rich. What was the point of being hired by a protection brigade, if they had money already?
The west coast of Naykal. Same as the rest of the shore— endless and peaceful.
In the distance, I could see a succession of rocky islands. If you stood on the cliff and saw the islands from above, you would think that it was the back of an inconceivably big fish swimming near the surface of the water. Near the islands I could distinguish several sailboats with fishing nets.
Beneath the cliff was a small village of about thirty people. Different animals roamed the streets— cats, and pigs, unsuccessfully trying to find a puddle. Boys with kites ran across the open field, holding pieces of twine. At the very edge of the coast, ten bog-creatures sat, waiting patiently for the arrival of the fishing boats.
Here was a striking example of progress— as I found out, the bog-creatures helped with the unloading of the catch, and in return received a small stipend of fish. But the bog-creatures are lazy, I suppose… they live right next to a huge lake of fish, but prefer to be indebted…
I didn’t fail to ask about the bog-creatures while I was looking for Afrosio. They had come in from the swamp, which was very close to Naykal.
By the way, I found Afrosio…
Therefore, I stood on the edge of the cliff and peered at the broad man, skillfully leading his boat to the place where fishing would begin and managing a heavy oar himself. And this wasn’t Afrosio, but a fisherman unknown to me. As for Afrosio… he lay at my feet in an embrace with an empty bottle, in a state of complete stupor.
Surrounding the fisherman were a variety of objects. Some mysterious and unusual, but others strangely familiar. Pieces of bark, inscribed with strange characters. Many feet of rope lying in rings. Many broken rods. Charred bones. The ribs of fish, and huge toothy skulls held open by large stones. A mound of ash. Near the remains, a couple of bags of dry grass. In some places, the grass torn off of the turf— in the exposed soil were inscribed strange characters. And there were dozens of other things. And many bottles everywhere! Right… I knew many of these things. Not all, but many. More than half of it looked like the inventory of a shaman. One who talked to spirits would find use for most of these things.
And shamans do not live too far away, themselves. The west coast passes through a narrow valley with a few hills and groves. After that there is a long and narrow marsh, overgrown with reeds and spruces. Then a hilly area, the dwelling place of gnomes. There are tribes of hunters and deer, as well as mountain leopards. And there are the shamans. They say that the location is particularly beneficial to them, giving them either special powers or some kind of enlightenment. And it seems that Afrosio had acquired this mountain of protective amulets from them.
I tried waking the fisherman but it did me no good. I wasn’t going to kick him, was I? The gaming system would consider this an attempt at attack. And this wasn’t beneficial for me. So I decided to wait and look around, and to piece something together. And after a few minutes, I realized that I didn’t like the picture…
I was standing on a steep bank, which towered over the water. Jumping down from here would not be a good idea, judging by the coastal rocks below. At my feet is the drunk fisherman Afrosio, in the tell-tale state of “do whatever you want with me— I don’t care!” And down in the village, there is a structure which stands out from the neat pastoral houses. One ruined building— with a felled wall. A wall made of stone! And the roof collapsed… The fence, also mauled over, as though an assault tank drove over the fence, hit the wall, and then backed up and left. And it seemed to me that these ruins were once the house of the fisherman Afrosio.
And that wasn’t all. On the other side, at the sloping bank, there was a huge deep groove. It looked as though something had come out of the water and smashed hard into the soil, trying to get up on land— but was unable to do so, and went back into the water. The furrow had the width of two and a half meters. Just like the gap in the fence.
It looked like Afrosio, surrounded by amulets, was trying to protect himself from something huge that was after him.
What was that gossip that I collected earlier? About the fish. About Afrosio and the huge fish that pursued and tried to kill him. But it was a fish! How could it come out of the water and get to the village, break through the fence, and come back?! It seemed impossible— unless, of course, the pike was not much different than a crocodile.
But I was sure that I was on the right track.
Why?
Afrosio was a fisherman.
This isn’t the first time I have come across fishermen on the journey towards possessing the Silver Legend.
Anyway, I had caught a clear pattern— there was much associated with water and fishermen.
And bog-creatures? Bog-creatures were fishermen too! And they were directly tied to this quest for the equipment! Only by one element, but they were still connected. And their patron god was mixed up in all this up to her neck.
Where there is the Silver Legend, there is water, fish, and fishermen. Fish are rarely available. But fishermen are very much involved.
Everything was coming together. I ha
d caught a few consistencies— now it was necessary to find the others.
And something else now came into my head, covered with dust and lightly sprinkled with cologne— Strogus had put a bottle of it into the travel bag. So that, standing above the drunken fisherman, I smelled of good perfume…
Into my head came the next thought— according to all this, at least one part of the Silver Legend will be found in the realm of the achilots. Because they are also fishermen, despite the fact that they call themselves hunters. And I hoped very much that I was mistaken.
Sighing, I looked towards the village, in which I had spent all of three minutes— after which I was directed towards the dwelling place of Afrosio. A little away from me stood three guards... and in the village was a servant, establishing friendly relations with the local prefect. Simply put— he was wooing them with kind words, speaking epithets about my incredible kindness. I wasn’t going to become good friends with the fishermen, but I could expect a little warming in relations between strangers and myself. Except this wasn’t going to help me much. I needed the words of Afrosio, because he was the main witness. Or perhaps, the only victim. But the fisherman was snoring… on his face were traces of fear and fatigue. I, too, would be afraid, if I were being hunted by a gigantic pike monster…
How could a fish get out of the water?
After all, it wasn’t possible it had grown legs, was it? Even if it swallowed the legendary glove, it wasn’t a bar of plutonium. What could we deduce? That it was another werewolf? There was already the werewolf Grim, and what was here? A fish that turned into a beast at the full moon?
In my pocket lay the correspondence with the name of the leader of Lemmings Chaos. Now that I was hot on the trail, all that remained was to chat with this person. If he has a block on incoming messages— I would send him a message by falcon. But of course— what powerful head of any clan wants to read a message by a stranger?
Unless he would read the name of the sender and the subject. “From Rosgard. Legendary Fish.” Because if he doesn’t know my name, then one of his clan mates definitely does. The phrase “legendary fish” will not fall on deaf ears, either. In short, I would find a way to communicate with him. I will convince him of the presence of the pike. I was certain that such a creature would be a legendary catch. I was also sure that this clan had some tricks up their sleeve when it came to fishing. That clan and I could be of use to each other.