The Secret of the Dark Forest ( (The Way of the Shaman: Book #3)

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Cursed Ring of Driall.

  Item class: Epic, Unique.

  Minimum level: 320.

  Stats: +12800 to Intellect, +5400 Stamina, +80 Energy, +1400 Agility, +1400 Strength, when casting a spell you have a 30% chance of an instantaneous free repeat cast. 2 Gem Stone sockets. Upgradable (the cost and level of upgrade can be confirmed with an Advisor/Master).

  Cursed Ring's special properties: when worn, -20 character levels (the effect is applied no more than once to any player wearing the ring; total stat point reduction: -100); when placed in inventory, -30% to all stats (temporarily).

  Its properties were quite mind-blowing. Prior to this I thought that the most expensive and amazing items for players were those made by the Thricinians. The armor I was now wearing would be quite decent even at level 300 ... but now that I'd seen the properties of a 'simple' – as the Patriarch put it – Epic ring for level 320, I realized that I was wrong. Very wrong.

  "This is the ring of the first Lieutenant. Three years ago we managed to destroy him. Midial initiated a new one, but his level and experience are not the same. You have an hour, as of now." With these words the Patriarch froze on his throne, showing that for the next sixty minutes I didn't exist for him. That's fine by me. The main thing now was to figure out what could be done with this ring. ...

  After twenty minutes of fiddling with the ring it finally dawned on me that I was unable to recreate it in the design mode. The ring constantly turned out deformed however I tried to imagine it: either the gem sockets were bent or the ring itself became square or its surface looked corroded, as if by acid. It looked like the level difference between my profession and a 300-level object was just too large. Was giving up and preparing for respawn all I could do? I would've dearly preferred to avoid that, but by the looks of it ... although ... what if ...

  I went to the Shaman abilities and started to read. It’s true what they say: everything new is just the well-forgotten past. If I couldn't use Jewelers’ skills, perhaps I could use my Shaman skills instead? Essence of Things and Change of Essence. ... Let's hope that this ring doesn't have the 'Shield' spell active on it ...

  Revulsion. Rage, pain, fear and again revulsion. As soon as I applied the ability to the ring, I was engulfed by a great torrent of negative feelings. I don't know how I managed not to chuck the ring and wash my hands of it there and then, but I'm pretty sure that the look of disgust on my face was reminiscent of someone who’d just fallen into a cesspit. The ring wanted to be revolting, wretched, evil, and terrifying. The list could go on, but I tried to detach myself from the sensations that the capsule was trying to feed me and went back to the ring. So, are you a piece of filth hell bent on being that and nothing else? I see. But what if I try to force you to become a happy and harmless lump of metal?

  My first attempts at Change of Essence resulted in nothing except a headache and, most surprisingly, a nosebleed. I glanced at the Patriarch, who was still sitting statue-like on his throne, and realized that he’d sensed the blood too. His nostrils widened slightly, as he inhaled its sweet scent, but the Vampire himself remained motionless. There was little else to do than sit there and try to guess what was going on: was this due to the properties of the location, which happened to be the abode of blood-loving Vampires (similar to the Shaman Initiation Cave) or was it specific to changing the Essence of the ring? Forty minutes had already gone by, but I saw no clear way of solving the problem. Time to give up? What else is there left to do ...? Like hell I will! I'm a Shaman and no ring is gonna make me give up!

  Once again I closed my eyes and called up the design mode. There was black empty space where items that I had created were sorted on their own special 'shelves'. Kameamia, with the note 'cannot be repeated', the images of the Orcs, the Dwarves, the thirty-two players from Phoenix and the Dark Legion clans, the stone button, a ton of rings and neck-chains ... a good collection of crafted items, for sure. Now I just needed to add another ring there, which was completely refusing to appear. What if I'm doing it all wrong? What if I shouldn't be trying to re-model this ring, but just skip the first stage and create the ring that I'm aiming to make? I am a Blessed Artificer, and not a Cursed one, after all, someone who makes blessed and not cursed items, so why do I need a 'black' item on my shelves?

  The template of the ring appeared straight away – round and shining, molded from a single piece of metal, with two gem sockets (I should experiment with designing such rings, as well as with the number of sockets – why should there only be two?). The ring I created looked very similar to the one that the Patriarch had given me, but no waves of light were emanating from it. If I crafted it now, I would simply get a bronze cast ring of something or other. There had to be an extra ingredient to make the ring change, but how?

  "Hi, come over, I need your help," I called my Totem. I saw no other means of correcting the ring other than bathing it in Dragon’s breath. This was probably stupid, but I was out of options: I had only ten minutes left.

  "I'm here. What do you need? Is it normal for you to have a dark ring hanging in front of your face?" Draco asked, almost breaking my concentration. It turned out that if I relaxed even a little, the ring in my imagination immediately started to melt and deform.

  "Take no notice. Now here's the job: the ring must be burned. Do it, just try not to fry me as well."

  "I'll be careful," Draco roared at me and warm air began to blow in my face. "Nope. It's not working."

  "Accelerate."

  "But ..."

  "Draco, I realize it will hurt, but do it!"

  "All right, I'll jump to level two ..."

  "No. If the second level won't do it, go to third and fourth. ... Something tells me that you should jump straight to six."

  "I've never gone that far! It will hurt a lot!"

  "If you don't do it, I'll be destroyed. I won't force you, it's your choice." Even if he were just an NPC, but this is Draco ... I'd become attached to him and I wouldn't make him do something he doesn't want to do, even if I really needed it. What's 12 hours of sleep? Nothing, gone in the blink of an eye ...

  "I will do it, brother," said my Totem in a hollow, heavy-sounding voice and then warm air again began to blow into my face. "Entering the second," Draco reported and strange things began to happen to the ring in the design mode: it started to melt, like a piece of butter in the sun. Was this really the result of the Totem's breath? I should’ve been happy that it was working, but a feeling of foreboding rose up within me: something wasn't right. I had to prevent the ring from melting entirely; it had to remain whole. ...

  "Entering the third," said my Totem through gritted teeth – or rather fangs in Draco's case – when I started to fight for the ring to stay whole. Its form had to be round, two sockets for the gems, a perfect surface ... a few seconds went by, but the ring continued to melt. Either I was lacking concentration and experience, or I was doing everything totally wrong. Stop! Didn't I just ask my Totem for help? Why don't I make use of my Shaman skills? The three seconds it took me to enter the Spirit Summoning Mode seemed an eternity to me. I freed up one of the active slots without even a glance at what I was chucking (I'd get it back later) and began to summon the Spirit of Petrification. I had no idea whether one even existed, but I really needed it right now. ...

  You have summoned the Lesser Spirit of Petrification. ...

  This was a great relief. I didn't even have to summon Spirits – by the looks of it the design mode combined beautifully with the Spirit summoning mode, so the newly-summoned bodiless entities started to circle around the ring, returning it to its initial shape. That's it – it's as good as done now: Draco will finish frying the ring and the Patriarch will give me my reward. I even managed to sigh in relief until the next piece of news tore all my plans to shreds.

  "Fourth!" shouted the Totem and the Spirits that I’d summoned evaporated as if they’d never been there. I summoned them a couple more times, but as soon as they flew to the ring, which started to melt ag
ain, the Spirits vanished. They weren’t the right level. ...

  You have summoned the Spirit of Petrification.

  +1 to Spirituality. Total: 25.

  Now I could clearly feel an inferno raging around me, and periodically a message flashed before my eyes that I’d lost 1–2 Hit Points on account of the blowing hot air. A Totem's fire cannot harm its master, but the air that he heats up is oblivious to the fact that the Totem means me no harm. The summoning of the ordinary Petrification Spirits did not come easy to me; I felt my head growing heavy, some strange hum spreading through my ears (on second thoughts, it might have been the Dragon's fire) and there was an unpleasant metallic taste in my mouth: the ring became whole once again.

  "Fifth!" If the hoarse voice that just sounded was any indication of his current state, Draco wasn't feeling too great right now. The worst part was that I could do nothing to help my 'brother', because the ordinary Petrification Spirits also began to disappear. The Dragon's fifth acceleration level took them out even before they reached the ring, which once again started to lose shape, so there was little I could do other than ...

  You have summoned the Great Spirit of Petrification. ...

  +2 to Spirituality. Total: 27.

  I waved away the announcement that I would be losing 10% of my Hit Points every five seconds, because the summoned Spirit was beyond my rank, and tried not to breathe, because breathing fire was no picnic. The 'No Air' bar appeared before my eyes, helpfully telling me that I had 63 seconds before living would become difficult. The penalty for the summons only had the chance to appear three times (the second of which had me thinking that I was about to lose my concentration and scream), when Draco squealed more than howled: "Ss-s-s-i-i-i-x!"

  I don't know what the Dragon had started to breathe at me, but the system told me that I was now in a lake of molten rock and losing 100 Hit Points a second. Obviously the initial figure was much higher, but I really liked the footnote: my Totem had made the lake, so I received only 0.1% of the damage. This brought little comfort, considering that even Great Spirits were unable to come near the ring, with the Dragon now breathing fire of sixth level of acceleration at its original physical form. Or not at the original – it mattered little: the Spirits couldn't manage it. As far as I understood there was no-one higher than the Great Spirits, apart from the pair who’d earlier told me how small and unready I was. The ring started to melt once again, the Dragon was growing hoarse, the fire was roaring, the Patriarch had probably left such a shocking scene (he may even hand us a bill later for destroying his hall), so I gritted my teeth and, disregarding all the warnings, both from the system as well as my own brain, started yet another summons. Supreme ones, I kinda need you right now. ...

  You have summoned the Supreme Spirit of the Lower World. ...

  +4 to Spirituality. Total: 31.

  + 1 Rank to Water Spirits. Total: 4.

  Your Totem has gained a level.

  Your Totem has gained a level…

  "We have come, Great one. You have passed the trial. Henceforth you will be able to call us, but no more than once a week: you are not a High Shaman yet. A penalty is incurred by anyone who spends time in our world; you can find out about it from any Shaman trainer. And now, release your Totem, brother. It is time he had a rest."

  Character class update: Class Elemental Shaman has been replaced by Great Shaman.

  +10 to Reputation with the Supreme Spirits of the Higher and Lower Worlds. This Reputation cannot be increased on account of the 'First Kill' Achievement.

  You have received the new rank of Blessed Artificer. Current rank: 3

  Item acquired: Holy Ring of Driall.

  Item class: Epic, Unique.

  Minimum level: 320.

  Stats: +12800 to Intellect; +5400 Stamina; +80 Energy; +1400 Agility; +1400 Strength; when casting a spell you have 30% chance of an instantaneous free repeat cast.

  2 Gem Stone sockets. Upgradable (the cost and level of upgrade can be confirmed with an Advisor/Master).

  Holy Ring special properties: +200 to Faith; +200 to Reputation with Goddess Eluna (these effects are applied to the first player to wear the ring, after which this property of the ring will disappear).

  Restriction: Only usable by Priests and Paladins.

  Quest 'The Path of the Shaman, Step 3.'

  The trial to become a Great Shaman is completed. Seek out a Shaman Trainer to be given the next step.

  As soon as the messages stopped flashing past me, I dismissed Draco and opened my eyes, finding myself in a two-meter-wide melted crater. Its entire perimeter was crowded with Vampires, their weapons pointed in my direction: bows, spears, swords. ... Around ten level-200 bloodsuckers stood around me and it was clear that only an enormous feat of willpower stopped them from attacking me.

  Your Reputation with the Patriarch of the Vampires has fallen by 24000 points. Current level: Hatred.

  "The Master of the Enemy," said the Patriarch from his throne in a heavy, terrible voice, full of hatred. "Only because you have fulfilled my conditions will I forego sending you to the Grey Lands. You will be taken back to the Guardian's glade after which I, the Patriarch of Vampires, head of the Reardalox clan, shall declare you the enemy of all the Vampires in Barliona. You may take the ring with you and I shall also give you a certain scroll, because that was the will of the victors. You shall not receive the ten cursed objects for which you asked earlier, let Tartarus be my judge. Leave us," the Patriarch told his Fighters, "the Master of the Enemy will not do me any harm."

  This NPC sure came with a strange script: he's prepared to incur the wrath of the dark god just not to hand over ten cursed items to me. And there's my new title as well: 'Master of the Enemy'. Did he mean Draco? By the looks of it, the encounter between the head Vampire and the flying lizard didn't leave the best of memories behind if it had dropped my Reputation all the way to Hatred. Now Anastaria won't just lynch me, but will make sure my next hundred million years are filled with pain and suffering. Destroying her chance of meeting such an NPC is an achievement in itself. Although, on second thoughts, the Patriarch only spoke of me, so maybe his wrath would not extend to those accompanying me. ...

  "I care little for the enmity between you and the Dragons," I replied to him, "they have left Barliona long ago and will never return. My Totem is not a Dragon, but an incarnation. I realize that it’s useless to try to explain this after my Totem’s destroyed part of your hall, so I'll skip any explanations. You can take me back now."

  "For two thousand years Vampires were at war with the Dragons. For two thousand years they destroyed, burned and persecuted us ... we managed to bring down only three Lords of the Air, but afterwards each death was revenged. Their vengeance was meted out furiously and mercilessly; entire clans were eliminated. When, of all the Vampires, only my clan remained, the head of the Dragons came to me and demanded that I yield. Either I bowed my head and accepted his power or all the remaining Vampires would be destroyed. I subdued my pride with fetters of steel, and bowed before the victor, because I had to think of my people. I was handed a scroll that I had to give either to a Dragon or to his Master. Then the Dragons departed ... departed forever from our world. Some Vampires never accepted our submission before the flying serpents and left my clan, founding their own clans throughout Barliona. And I remained here, to remember forever the lesson that we were taught by the Dragons. When you summoned your Totem, which turned out to be a Dragon ... for the first time in ten thousand years I remembered what fear was. Fear before the inevitable. ... I did not enjoy this long forgotten feeling, so I will do all I can never to feel it again. This is for you." A scroll appeared in the Patriarch's hands, which then floated towards me through the air. Well, well! Even personally handing over an item to me was no longer possible for this red-eyed NPC. He was prepared to use a crazy amount of Mana for levitation so as not to approach me. ... Maybe he should see a shrink or something? It's as clear as day this Imitator is beset by a whole bunch of complex
es.

  As soon as I took the scroll one of the Vampires appeared next to me, his face full of revulsion, offered me a hand and I found myself in the Guardian's glade. The Vampire disappeared, the guys were nowhere to be seen – having probably gone into the tent to sleep – so I sat under the Oak and began to examine the Patriarch's present. I removed the wrapping and stared at the paper scroll:

  Item acquired: The Treatise on a healthy diet for Dragons.

  Description: Dragons kept a close watch on their figures: if they were to eat one too many cows or sheep, indigestion was guaranteed. For this reason the High Dragon developed a diet that would allow Dragons to enjoy their life to the full.

  On use: you will learn a unique cooking recipe 'Dragon Porridge' (required Cooking profession level +1), which will increase the growth of all Dragon stats by 100% for 24 hours.

  Restriction: only for Dragons.

  'Dragon Porridge'?! They’ve got to be kidding me!

  Chapter Nine. The Lieutenant

  Ding!

  The sound of a letter arriving in the Mailbox cut through my sleep, and returned me to Barliona. I'd have to dig around in the settings and switch off these annoying sound effects. I could easily ignore it when awake, but when asleep it sounded like a loud gong hitting me on the head. Who the heck is after me?

  With sleep-ridden, and thus totally clueless, eyes I selected my mail and opened the first letter that popped into sight.

  "Hi! I'm a 219-level Warlock. I'm prepared to discuss conditions under which I would enter your clan. I require ...

  The sheer impudence of it shook me completely awake. What the heck was ‘conditions’ for entering your clan supposed to mean? Wasn't he getting something mixed up here? I read over the message one more time, and raised my eyebrows in surprise. I just wasn't getting the meaning of this text. What did he want? As soon as I deleted that letter, another popped up in front of me: