The Way of the Clan 6: World of Valdira

by Dem Mikhaylov

  “Yes, sir! We will find Afrosio.”

  Today, I have successfully completed another unique task. But I will not rejoice. Glory will come later.

  “It’s okay, love. Just been a little busy. How are you?” I replied on the move, climbing into the rickety cart.

  The servant handed me a handkerchief, but instead of dabbing my face, I chose to wrap the armor in it. I should keep it away from prying eyes, and hurry up and get to my private room. But what if I get into some mess again?!

  Legendary armor of Myrta!

  The bracers awaken the soul of the Red Wolf.

  The bracers of Grim awaken the soul of the Red Wolf.

  Them again. The couple.

  How is Kira involved in all of this? Is she hunting after the legendary armor on order of the Albatrosses? The armor is for a woman.

  Again, everything depends on a simple question. What did Grim give her after she won the tournament?

  Until now, I have not thought about this deliberately. Kept neutral, so to speak.

  But what should I do now? Ask? Not ask?

  What do I do with Myrta’s set? Sell it at the auction?

  Maybe I could show the Baroness— she’s a hell of a warrior. A desert ninja warrior. She would tear such a piece of armor from me right out with my beating heart…

  A new message. Kira responding? No… not Kira… the Black Baroness…

  “Was it you the pike choked on? How I understand her.”

  Hell if she’s getting part of the armor! — I thought fiercely. So the Baroness already knew… I had failed to eliminate a couple of spies. Though, probably, one could see me from a distance with the help of some powerful telescopes. Did she see the glove? Or the bracers of Myrta? I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter— I am still untouchable for the Sleepless. They would not take anything by force. Maybe I’ll give it of my own free will— If I don’t need it myself. Meaning— I’ll sell it. It’s too late to worry, either way. I found it. But Kira certainly wouldn’t understand if I sold the armor of Myrta to the Black Baroness.

  Another message. From who?

  From my beautiful Trouble… and what is the fishing fanatic saying?

  “Ros! Ros! Ros! Something just happened! And only to our league! In all areas! Fish are jumping on the hooks like mad! Almost climbing the scaffolds and jumping in the cages! Organizers are tearing the hair out of their heads! Wizards are shaking their heads and the fish keep coming! It’s great! Do you know why this is happening? And what should I say to the judge who is coming here right now?”

  “Hmm… “I said, wrapping my cloak around my bare knees. “Hmmmm … Oh! I almost forgot! Check through everything thoroughly that the fish puked up, even the garbage. There should be some fury of god. Go through everything!”

  “It will be done, sir,” said the guard briefly.

  Lord, how I love these answers!

  “Yes, sir!” “It will be done, sir!”

  I think I’m starting to understand the soul of the Black Baroness— it is something indescribably when everyone around you carries out your orders quickly. This is a feeling of absolute power. And at the same time, I have a sense of calm— I am certain that everything the pike spewed up will be packaged, stored, and presented at my request.

  How many events... it’s hard to keep everything in my head, but I must try. And it would be even better to solve some of the problems right now.

  The rickety carriage rolled forward. For this I will have to pay— and will have to fix it as soon as possible. My finances are shortening, but I can solve this problem rather quickly.

  So…

  First, Kira’s message.

  “My love, don’t admit anything, and smile! Don’t forget! We didn’t do anything, and didn’t break any laws. Why the fish are coming— who the hell knows! We are not in that business! Have fun— Kiss. Ps. I’ll try to settle everything now.”

  As for the promise to settle everything— I had already thought about the sudden onset of fish in my newly created league. Swaying in the cart, which hadn’t shattered by a miracle, I wrote a message, intending to fill out my wallet.

  “Brave, I’m going to bother you again today. If you are free and need some ingredients, like the fury of god for example— I will be glad to help.”

  “Always! Where are you at?” His response came quickly.

  “Lake District. West coast of Naykal. Village Prisvyate. Grab plenty of cash. I’ll see you in five minutes in the central square!”

  “Got it!”

  I wondered what amount Brave had already decided on, and how far he had advanced in his mastery of Alchemy. His name was on the lips of many players, because he literally lived in Valdira no less than I did. Perhaps more— I travelled and adventured while Brave spent hours cooking up potions.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey!”

  “Who the hell…” I cursed silently, looking at the five players running towards me.

  “Listen, what was that? Huh?” Yelled the half orc, addressing me. “What the hell is a possessed Zubrava and where is it now? Huh?!”

  “In the lake,” I said casually, pointing to Naykal. “Swimming.”

  “So what was that for then? An attack? Why? What was it for? And if there was— where?” Rattled the ginger haired girl, with two predatory sickles in her hands.

  “They gave me an assignment,” I said calmly. “Nothing more. The pike is cured and released to Naykal. I’m serious, guys. Believe it or not.”

  “What do you mean?!” Howled another half-orc in crimson armor. As though he is copying someone…

  “Wait a second… aren’t you Rosgard? The ultra-mega Rosgard?”

  “I’m Rosgard,” I had to admit.

  All five players at once began to chatter, forming a ring around me as I moved to the village. Along the way I smiled, knowing that they were taking “snapshots” of me, and even signed one autograph. I tried not to lie too much, but changed the facts a little so as not to reveal that Zubrava had to do with the gods.

  I finally managed to get away from them, but the lonesome happiness did not last losing.

  In the central square, a few locals bowed deeply in my direction.

  As soon as I stepped down, a girl ran up to me and presented me with a hefty smoked fish— a pike! Jesus, Zubrava— is it you?!

  My interface flashed green, happily telling me that I was no longer a suspicious stranger.

  +2 goodwill to the relationship with residents of the fishing village Prisvyate!

  Ten minutes later, I was still trying my hardest to maintain my broadest smile, slapping men on the shoulder, shaking the hand of a sickly elder with a pale yellowish face. The mayor looked at me with radiant eyes and implied that he would offer me as many as three jobs only entrusted to me.

  I was able to get out of this situation with the help of the five heroes I had run into earlier. Estimating the time of their arrival, I publicly vouched for them— risking my hard earned reputation— and asked that the tasks be entrusted only to them.

  The players didn’t disappoint— happily chattering, they immediately gathered into a single party, took the three tasks and instantly sped away, not forgetting to thank me, and even promising fifteen percent of the awards. At the time of the bestowing of these tasks I was standing nearby with an air of importance, and therefore heard the gist of all of them. The first task required finding the destroyer of the stork nests and killer of chicks in the village and its surroundings. The second task asked to find a lost resident on a marsh, who had gone on a hike two days ago and not come back. The third was to explore a cave, a passage to which had been opened by a recent landslide. Overall— interesting jobs, promising adventures, and imminent danger. But I had no time… let others enjoy them…

  Then, when I had finished talking with the villagers, I found Afros the fisherman…

  He lay on the ground, groaning loudly, taking a beating from a strong and burly man with a large bald head and dirty apron. On
the ground I could see fragments of clay and a pool of foam…

  I gave some quiet orders to a servant, and then walked quietly to the place where it was happening. Seeing me, the assailant stopped— and happily greeted me. Damn… the fierce deliverer of pain… wrapping my cloak around me, I reimbursed he innkeeper for his trouble, bought three more pitchers of beer, and took Afros back to the carriage. Then the servant arrived, and I dressed in a plain shirt and trousers. We set off on the return journey.

  Before I could have a little rest, Brave found me… rubbing my temples, I went with the easy solution. I simply took the money the alchemist had brought— five hundred gold— and then gave them the capsules of divine wrath the pike had belched up, as well as some more strange spheres filled with black and bluish blobs. As the sight of them, Brave shook like a leaf. I requested several health potions and three return scrolls. Brave gave them to me and then disappeared in a flash of teleport, whispering “Cloud Road.”

  Shaking my head in amazement, I stubbornly refused my mental whisper “enough for today already” and continued to follow the coast of Naykal, over which were scattered several broken boats and torn nets. I gave each of the fishermen wandering there one gold coin, telling them it was “the gift of Iwawa.” The fishermen took the money and bowed, and I nodded in response and continued in this manner until I had given a coin to each of the fishers afflicted by Zubrava. Why? I don’t know— I just decided it would be best to alleviate the damage. And I only spent a couple of dozen coins— even though I would have strangled someone for that amount not too long ago.

  A grizzled old fisherman standing by a nearly ruined boat which had, nevertheless, survived, sold it to me for the same gold coin. This village would soon have a new standard— gold. Golden Prisvyate! Hm…

  On the raft, I watched listlessly as a servant restrained Afrosio. We began to row to the Spine Ruff.

  “Spru-u-u-u-uce!” I yelled, when we had moved far enough from the coast and closer to the Spine Ruff. “He-e-ey!”

  I didn’t have to yell for long. There was a splash, and Spruce appeared on the surface of the water. She was fully recovered, and even dressed for the holiday— on the green tunic, several white flowers had blossomed.

  “Good adven…” Spruce opened her mouth, but then she was interrupted.

  Why?

  Because past us swam a whole parade of utterly joyful bog creatures, dragging rafts loaded with dishes and pots of bubbling stews.

  Dirtying the water and disturbing the peace, the bog creatures got to one of the islands— the sanctuary of Snessa— a lifeless chunk of rock.

  Spruce opened her mouth to speak again:

  “Oh, good young…”

  And again she was interrupted…

  Because the crowd at Snessa’s island was playing very loud bass music, and then there was the sound of a shrill, piercing tenor…

  “He-e-e-e-ey, la-la-a-a-a-ai-i-i…”

  “Nice tambourines,” I said awkwardly. “Such folk-like motifs…”

  “Year after year!” Angrily hissed Spruce. “Oh my good fellow… your deeds! Your achievements! They…”

  BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM!!!

  Splash! From the water emerged the smiling face of a bog creature unknown to me. He was explicitly drunk, and handed me a pitcher of something.

  “Friend Rosgard!” Said he, putting his arm around my shoulder and asking in surprise: “Why are you here? There are no fish! Come to us! We will dance!”

  “Of course,” I smiled, taking a sip of the brew. “But now there is much to do.”

  “We’re waiting!” Gravely said the spokesperson of the bog creatures, slapped me on the shoulder, looked at the shaking Spruce and dove into the water with a splash.

  Funny creatures, they are… and not afraid anymore of a regular temple pike. And I would have been a little afraid, actually… it’s not the monster shark from the jaws movie, but there is still a fear.

  After the departure of the bog creature Spruce paused and pouted, and then silently pointed to the island, overgrown with trees and greenery. And I understood her decision— the music only grew louder, and to the rhythm of tambourines and drums were added screeching and wild laughter. The bog creatures had obviously decided to catch up with their rituals. Snessa is surely blissfully happy…

  We didn’t need to row to the new meeting place— a wave quickly caught and lifted us, moving us from the source of the noise. The music of the bog creatures subsided, but the frightened whimper of Afrosio could be heard more clearly.

  On the way there, I thought of a question I had been meaning to ask.

  “Spruce, aren’t your temple pikes the ones responsible for chasing fish towards the fishermen in my league?”

  “No,” said she, after a short pause. I’m went quiet… if not she, then who?

  Soon we reached the place chosen by Spruce for our talk. Without waiting for the next word from the Willow Sister, I went on the offensive, pointing to Afrosio and asking:

  “What are we going to do?”

  In response, there was silence. The face of Spruce suddenly looked offended, becoming like the face of a very large frog.

  I waited patiently… and what she said next sounded utterly weary and angry at the same time.

  “I can’t look at him!

  To prove her words, the firefly eyes of the girl fluttered from their orbits and flew into the fog. I’m going to become a stutterer like this… seems like a normal lake, with joyful people and bog creatures, and on the other hand there are glowing eyes flying around in the thick white fog…

  “He suffered plenty,” I said. “It’s one thing when there is a temple pike on your heels. Another, when it’s a dark possessed monster…”

  “He robbed and desecrated the sanctuary! He killed and ate temple guardians! Children of Zubrava!”

  Barely had she said these words, that about three meters from us flashed the bony back of a fish. God forbid it gets my thigh! Thus was the strange, irrational fear… are players not afraid to play the achilot race?

  “He killed and robbed,” I admitted. “But the punishment he suffered was great. How much more? Or do you want to kill him, Spruce?”

  “I cannot meddle in dark affairs!” The Willow Sister shivered all over. “I cannot take away life!”

  “Well then,” I nodded in relief. “Then what? Scare Afros any more… and he will die. Please Spruce, spare the idiot. He has already repented…”

  “I have already repented,” the voice of Afrosio sobbed, clutching his hair in his fingers. “Repented!”

  “Make him return the sacred objects!”

  “Will you return them?” I sighed, looking at the fisherman.

  “Yes, but I do not know where they are! I do not know it!” Afrosio cried suddenly, jumping to his feet and hitting his palm against his forehead. “I do not remember! I don’t know! I don’t remember where they’re buried! My head is bad! My head is empty! I try, but nothing comes! It has been a very long time! I can repent on my knees! But I do not know where they are! I do not see! Everything, everything is enveloped in a thick fog and in laughter…”

  “Damn you…” I said, exhausted. A new complication.

  But I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.

  How can he not know where you have hidden the stolen goods? The answer is simple— he is an alcoholic. At least he can express himself poetically… in cryptic metaphor…

  “All in a fog,” the unfortunate fisherman rocked in his seat. “In the mist… I see scraps of information… that sterling glove… the golden cup… and then, a carved stone image… and a scroll, and stones… I see worms… in abundance… a drunken laughter echoing in a roar…”

  I stopped like a hunting dog in my tracks and looked towards the sound. Go on, Afrosio, continue to remember…

  “Wearing a golden crown, pouring wine into a rich cup… and I am sitting there, drinking, laughing, looking at the dancing… then I get up and dance… I want to go to
them, I want to dance, but there is water… there is fog between us! And I am on the banks… and where is the sacred? That I do not see, I do not know! I don’t remember!”

  “Not bad,” I summed up. A fisherman in a golden crown sitting atop a throne and looking at wild dancing going on upon stones, in the presence of worms, drunken laughter, and a resounding roar. He wants to go, but there is water between them.

  BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM!!!

  A gust of lazy wind brought the sound to us.

  Alright…

  “Kindest Spruce,” I pulled a smile. “Good soul. You live here. This is your home. Would you be able to tell me where, on the Spine Ruff, exists a tall rocky island? Such that is next to the sanctuary of the goddess Snessa.”

  As I said the name “Snessa” the Willow Sister shivered again, but bent down her head in thought. After a moment, she said:

  “I know three such places.”

  “Well,” I was delighted. “Spruce, please ask Zubrava, since she is close, if the good pike remembers where exactly she saw the silver glove. Where did she find it and swallow it?”

  After a moment, the Sister went under the water. A few glowing silhouettes flashed underneath the boat, which swayed on the waves. I didn’t have to wait long. Soon I received another response:

  “Zubrava doesn’t remember, it’s all a daze,” sighed the returning Spruce.

  “Did she and Afrosio drink from the same bottle or what?” I muttered evilly. “Fine! Spruce, we’ll have to explore all three places that you have thought of. Is there not, among them, one which has many flooded cracks and ditches? Such that Zubrava can swim in them…

  “I know!” Suddenly shouted the pleased Spruce. “Come on!”

  I wasn’t given a choice— again, wave after wave dragged us along. Constant splashing, flying spray, the fog… the atmosphere was better suited for the got Digratsy, not the peaceful Iwawa!

  But!

  But!

  Bingo!

  The first shot was a hit to the target!

  Two of the islands were very close to each other— there was a three-meter strip of water between them.

  One island was a fairly flat rocky field, almost completely level with the water. There were puddles everywhere, and random pools of dibilids— some statues, and some effigies of snakes and fish. A typical Snessa sanctuary. Currently vacant.