The higher I climbed, the narrower the road grew. Once I reached the cliffs it had turned into a barely visible trail. It must have once followed the bed of a mountain river that had at some point in the past changed its flow due to some geologic shift higher up.
I was almost there. Finally, my satnav reported the end of the route. I could see it myself. I stood facing the dark mouth of a cave. Not a single terminal in sight, which meant there were no resources to mine here. I hadn’t received any system messages announcing my arrival at an instance. Was it just a regular cave, maybe?
I reopened the map. The location was correct. This was where I was supposed to find Master Grilby who’d “uncovered the Power of Stone and sampled the greatness of Isilird, the heavenly steel”.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the cave’s gloomy depths. Still no system messages. Very well then. Let’s continue. This looked like a regular cave indeed. I could stand upright even though I had to squeeze my way through the narrow passage. The good news was, Ennans’ eyes adapted to darkness easily.
The rocky corridor was heading downward—I knew I couldn’t feel it but still I did.
I kept descending like that for several minutes. This Elder liked his dwellings deep, didn’t he? How on earth did he live here? If this was the only entrance to his halls, I didn’t envy him. Imagine having to squeeze yourself through piles of rock day in, day out. Personally, I’d have found myself something more convenient.
Ah! I glimpsed the dull flicker of a light. The tunnel was growing wider and lighter.
Was it my imagination or could I really hear someone groaning weakly? I hastened my step. That’s right: someone was groaning here. I darted forward.
Soon I found myself in a small cozy cave. An enormous fireplace faced the entrance. No, not a fireplace—a forging furnace. I could see an anvil with its hammer, some pliers and other tools. This was a smithy. And judging by a small bed in the corner, a low table and some shelves holding tiny pots and plates, the blacksmith lived here too. But where was he?
A weak groan came from the direction of the bed, indicating the location of the cave’s owner. I’d failed to notice his frail little body amid the rags.
I hurried over.
An Ennan. An old one. He was emaciated beyond belief. His eyes were closed. His parched lips kept mouthing something. The old boy seemed to have fever.
The weak fire in the furnace was expiring. I shivered. The place seemed to be getting colder. The old man wore some filthy rags. He was shuddering.
He needed to get warm. I pulled off my jacket and wrapped him in it. That’s better. My Energy levels had dropped but that was irrelevant. I dragged the bed closer to the fire. The cave echoed with the screeching sound of its legs scoring against the rock floor. Now, now. The old boy seemed to be getting warmer—but the fire was dying...
I looked around me. If I didn’t find any firewood, I’d have to burn what meager furniture was there. Wait. What was that?
I saw a small pile of something dark in the corner next to the furnace. Could it be coal, maybe? I walked over and focused on it.
Name: Fire Stones
What, was that it? No stats, no effects? Apparently, I’d have to act by trial and error. I picked up a stone and flinched as a system message unfolded before my eyes.
You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone
You’ve received +1 to your Skill.
Excuse me? I picked up another one.
You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone
You’ve received +1 to your Skill.
What was going on? I picked up another one.
You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone
You’ve received +1 to your Skill.
I dropped to my knees and began scooping up the stones into my knapsack. Only when it was packed to the brim did I force myself to stop. Actually, no. I still had one more slot left.
My hands shook as I produced the feather and hung it around my neck. Now I had space for one more stone.
You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone
You’ve received +1 to your Skill.
That was it. My knapsack was well and truly stuffed. My head spinning with excitement, I checked my stats.
Current skill: 259 pt.
The maximum skill limit for your current profession level: 270.
There were still about twenty stones left on the floor. I was panting as if I’d just run a hundred meters. I still couldn’t believe my luck.
A weak groan reminded me why I was here and what I’d been going to do.
I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the furnace. It was nearly out. Fire Stones, you say? Could they be what the old boy used for fuel? I had to try.
I picked up a stone and threw it into the furnace. The orange flames reluctantly licked its dark little body. At first I got the impression that it had only doused the fire further. But immediately the flames sprang back to life, coloring the black “coal” bright red.
That’s what it was, then! Excellent.
I opened my knapsack and poured its entire contents into the furnace that roared, happy with the unexpected offering. The cave grew noticeably warmer. After a minute, you could barely breathe with the heat.
I glanced at the old man. He stopped groaning. He didn’t seem delusional anymore, either. The heat must have helped him, poor wretch. Good.
Actually, what if I gave him a drop of my elixir? It couldn’t hurt him, that’s for sure.
Holding the old man’s head, I slowly poured the entire contents of the vial into his mouth. If this stuff helped me, it would surely do him some good.
Poor man. He was all skin and bones. Of course he was an NPC but still he was a sorry sight. Once he regained consciousness, I’d give him another elixir.
I perched myself on the edge of the bed and adjusted his miserable excuse for a pillow, all the while trying not to look at the stones. What if the old man got angry with me for having thrown so many of them into the fire?
What was I like? Pierrot and his tricks! Who would have thought? And I’d been a right piece of work, pigging out on the stones like a junkie on a fix.
“Brolgerd? Is that you, my boy?” a crackling old voice made me jump.
I turned round. Two eyes pale with age stared at me.
“No, sir,” I said soothingly. “I’m not Brolgerd.”
“Who are you?” the old man whispered.
“Just a traveler,” I said. “I’ve come to see the legendary elder of my people...”
“And what you saw was a bag of old bones,” he ended my phrase for me, smiling weakly. “What is your name, traveler?”
“You can call me Olgerd, Sir.”
“Sounds almost like Brolgerd...” he heaved a sigh. “Give me your hand.”
I obeyed. The master’s hand turned out unexpectedly strong as if forged from steel.
“I can feel the callouses of a mine digger,” he said.
“That’s right.”
He chuckled. “I can also feel you wear something made by my apprentice. I’d sense this metal anywhere. Brolgerd was the only one who succeeded in combining silver and heavenly Isilird.”
I ripped the charm from my neck and offered it to the man. My heart missed a beat. He didn’t take it though. His fingers touched it lightly.
“That’s right,” he said. “This is it. The Feather of Hager the Night Hunter.
I glanced at the charm, hopeful.
Name: the Feather of Hager
Effect: [unavailable]
Restriction: only Ennan race
Level: 0
The effect? What was its effect?
My virtual heart was about to jump out of my chest. “You don’t happen to know more about this item, do you?” I mouthed, my lips dry.
Master Grilby shrugged. “Brolgerd made it for Tobold I, the king of Ennans. That’s all I know...”
I sighed, disappointed. Having said that, I shouldn’t complain really.
The old man
went on, “When I was young I used to toil in the mine too. It was a long time ago. We all start by getting to know the stone. Brolgerd, my best apprentice, used to go down the mines with a group of prospectors, studying the underground veins,” he shivered. “I seem to be a bit chilly. Could you add some fire stones to the furnace? Let it burn nice and hot. I want to get warm before I leave.”
Mechanically I headed for the remaining stones and started collecting them. What did he mean, ‘before I leave’? Where did he want to go in his state?
I placed the last stone into my bag. A new system message barely registered in my mind,
You’ve received a resource: Fire Stone
You’ve received +1 to your Skill.
Congratulations! Your professional level has grown! You're a Master Digger now!
That was it. I was a Master Digger now. I must have broken every profession-leveling record in history. Had the admins been following my progress? What was going to happen to me now? Would they delete my account? Somehow I didn’t think that Pierrot hadn’t made a provision for that. If he’d allowed me to level up just like that, it probably wasn’t as bad as it looked.
This was crazy. I made Master! In ten minutes flat!
Pensively I scooped the remaining nine fire stones which had brought me one point skill each.
“Olgerd?” the old man called weakly. “Where are you?”
“I’m here, Master. I’m coming.”
I glanced at my stats,
Current skill: 279 pt.
The maximum skill limit for your current profession level: 690.
For some reason, Pierrot had only provided me with 170 of these cheat stones. You’d think he could have left a nice big pile here, enough for me to make Expert level too? So apparently he didn’t want me to stick my neck out too much. Then again, how was I supposed not to, if my levels kept mushrooming out of all proportion? He probably knew more about me than I could ever guess. For all I knew, he might be keeping his tabs on me 24/7: both in the game and in real life.
I poured the remaining stones into the fire and produced another vial, “Master, I have something here to make you feel better.”
He shook his head. “Don’t waste your precious elixirs on me. Nothing can help me now. I’ll warm myself a bit by the fire, then I’ll be on my way. Sit here next to me, please. I have something to tell you.”
What was he talking about? He couldn’t go anywhere in his state! Still, I obediently plonked myself down next to him.
“Every Ennan can evolve from an ordinary journeyman into a Lord of Elements. Not everyone can do it but those who do, go down in the history of our people. My eyes may be blind, but I can still see that you’re hardworking, strong and kind-hearted. I’m not going to ask you this question again. Are you ready to start on the hard road to true craftsmanship?
My throat rasped. “I... I am, Master.”
He laid his hand, heavy with fatigue, onto my shoulder. “Very well, my boy. It’s a shame I can’t be with you on your path. You’ll have to learn the ancient lore all on your own. But don’t you worry. You can work hard, and that’s the main thing. Promise me to remain strong and kind-hearted. Here, take this.”
He reached under his tattered cloak and, as if by magic, produced five scrolls. “These are the blueprints of my five greatest inventions. You’ll only be able to grasp one of them. The remaining four are yet beyond your comprehension. But don’t you despair! As long as you study the first one and practice building it, the other four will cease to be a mystery. I’m sorry... my time is up... I must return to the Lord of the Underworld. Remember, my boy: you must work hard. Then you can achieve your goal. Fare thee well!”
He lay back on the pillow and closed his tired eyes.
I didn’t expect what happened next. The body of Master Grilby, the Legendary Elder, vanished into thin air. I was left alone in the cave.
It took me some time to notice a new 3D message,
Congratulations! You’ve completed a hidden quest: Secret Knowledge!
You’ve received a second profession: Engineering Designer!
You’ve received an item: Blueprints of a Replicator
You’ve received an item: [unavailable]
You’ve received an item: [unavailable]
You’ve received an item: [unavailable]
You’ve received an item: [unavailable]
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was the third day of my Mellenville stay and I was completely done in. First thing in the morning, I’d completed a quick quest run, seeing as Nikanor the Lawyer didn’t overwork me at all. We seemed to be developing a nice working relationship—if you can call it so, of course, considering my employer was an NPC.
He was a grumbling old sort, you had to give him that. But at least he seemed to approve of my fervor. Every morning at 8 a.m. on the dot I was in his office awaiting his orders.
Last night I’d even managed to complete my mining quota. Emeralds were definitely the way to go. I still had the two-week contract with Lady Mel to work off. And then we’d see...
One thing I definitely wasn’t going to do was change my gear for that of an Expert Digger. Exposure was the last thing I needed at the moment. Besides, my old kit was good enough. Emeralds provided an excellent source of income. I needed stability, so I wasn’t going to change anything any time soon. Surprisingly, my skill levels kept growing. Not as fast as they would have, had I switched to Expert resources, but still.
So now it was the evening of my third day; I’d completed my mining quota and come back to the inn earlier than expected. What I needed was a meal, a shower and some well-deserved rest. I’d have to visit Elder Adkhur some other time. Tomorrow or the day after, maybe. I already had my hands full with what I’d already received.
So I was the proud owner of a second profession. I was an Engineering Designer. It sounded cool but rather incomprehensible. What was I supposed to design? A spaceship? A tank? Or the latest-generation state-of-the-art toilet bowl?
When I’d finally “studied” the first scroll last night, I’d been rubbing my hands with glee, but today I wasn’t as optimistic. Firstly, because I was supposed to use it to build some weird machine called a Replicator. Secondly, because—apart from the fact that I had no idea what the hell it was supposed to do—putting the thing together might take a few days.
The whole assembling procedure consisted of five stages, each of which was dedicated to creating one particular element of the design. In other words, the blueprint consisted of five smaller ones which in turn contained lists of ten ingredients each. The procedure was simple: by collecting all ten ingredients, you could activate one element of the design. Easy peasy.
So that’s what I was doing now: rummaging through the auctions for the resources I needed. You had to give Pierrot justice: he’d chosen the cheapest and most accessible of ingredients. Who could have told me that you could create a Sensory Spiral by mixing Sticky Yellow Potion, Rose Tea, Bone Dust of a Grroggr and other such junk?
In total, all of the ingredients had cost me eighty gold. All I had to do now was activate one of the secondary designs, and I’d have the first part of the machine. The biggest problem was that activation was going to cost me thousands of points of Energy. For that reason, the building of the machine was going to take several days.
I opened the blueprint and chose design #1. A system message helpfully informed me of the ingredients necessary. It was followed by an alert,
Warning! Building a Sensory Spiral will deprive you of a 1000 pt. Energy!
Accept: Yes/No.
With a sigh, I clutched a Stamina elixir and prepared for the worst. No idea what could happen next: I might collapse in a heap for all I knew. In any case, an Energy drain like that was going to affect me, that’s for sure. I pressed Yes.
Congratulations! You’ve created an item: Sensory Spiral.
You’ve received +25 to your skill.
Current skill: 25
Maximal ski
ll pt. for your current profession level: 200
My vision faded. My head went round. It felt like being squashed by a gigantic press. I gulped the elixir and sat back. Some profession! You could pop your clogs just by leveling.
A new message appeared,
Cooldown alert! You can create the next part of the design in 07:59:59... 07:59:58…
I struggled to scramble out of the soft chair. Jesus. This didn’t feel good. Groaning like an old man, I hurried to change out of my kit into the pajamas. The bed welcomed me.
I remembered how back in the Spider Grotto the other guys kept dreaming about acquiring a second profession. According to them, that was a totally different ball game. It turned you into someone of a much higher standing.
Maybe. But personally, I didn’t feel any different. Last night I’d entered Replicator into the auction search and found nothing. Mirror World’s market knew of no such product. So this freshly-minted Engineering Designer had better learn to be patient.
As I was falling asleep, I thought that I might have been better off choosing some other profession. How about a Master Mitten Knitter? I’d have spent my evenings churning out pair after pair of wooly gloves without a care in the world...
* * *
“I knew it!” Weigner slammed his ham of a fist on the table. “That’s typical! I told you that workers who show promise don’t stay here long.”
This was the sixth day of my extended immersion. We were all sitting in The Stickleback Inn: Weigner, Doryl the dwarf, and myself. The place was decent, the food was good. Most importantly, it was affordable.
Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) Page 26
