The Way of the Clan 2 (World of Valdira)

by Dem Mikhaylov

  At day the peaked temple on the top of the hill certainly looked very picturesque. But at night, I did not notice any particular beauty. Now it was rather scary. Plus gusts of night breeze made the trees creak, strange looming shadows flashed around, my ears could hear a strange howling. Most likely it echoed the wind dashing between the gravestones, but I didn’t relieve after realizing that fact.

  A white stone path leading to the temple was clearly visible in the dark. Adhering to it, I quickly got to the locked doors of the temple. The priest was at the funeral dinner, raising another cup of wine for the soul of old Jogly.

  I walked round the building and found myself at the low fence of the village cemetery. Without breaking stride I went further, twisting my head from side to side in search of the reflection of light. I had to walk at least fifty paces before my eyes caught a trembling glow on the left. In a while, I was at the desired location. Here it was, Jogly’s grave. Looking around and seeing nothing, I sat down and crossed my legs, supporting my chin by my hand. I was at the desired place and it was high time to think everything over.

  The neat mound of newly dug soil was strewn with wildflowers; their spicy aroma hadn’t vanished yet. There was a rectangular and rather carelessly hewn stone at the head of the grave with a hardly distinguishable inscription. Probably something like "Rest in peace." And right in the middle of that entire floral splendor, there were five clay bowls standing in a perfect circle with floating sparks of fire. There wasn’t much light around, but it dispersed the impenetrable darkness a bit. Last light…

  Another quirk of the developers of Valdira. They could have simply taken ready-made templates of real religions, there are a plenty of them in real life. But they went the other way and came up with almost a hundred of their own religions, with their own dogmas, prayers, rituals and gods. Our "earthly" deities haven’t performed their miracles and signs for a long time but in Valdira it was the other way round.

  The gods of Valdira or rather their digital embodiments are more than real.

  Gamers often see deities. Sometimes they even can assign special, unique divine quests with a very generous reward.

  However, I have never received such a chance. I have never seen any gods. Neither in real life nor in Valdira. Because it is difficult to get the mercy of the gods. First you have to choose a deity, then pray fervently to him in the temple, complete all tasks given by the temple priests and behave properly. For example, if you chose the aggressive god called Grahharg the Fiery, then you must constantly take part in intensive battles and have no mercy for the enemy and despise crafts. Literally. If you sew a shirt, for example, the god will get offended and turn away from you. And there is a whole bunch of similar restrictions. As they say, it’s impossible to eat the cake and have it.

  While being Crashshot, once I tried to "make friends" with a clever god called Sness that is quite sympathetic to the human race. In fact, it is the god of thieves, the ‘goodies’ he could provide, I would have been very useful for me: a significant bonus to disguise, critical rate and even of deadly hit, noiseless gait, night vision... and other things. Yeah... I even prayed in front of his snake-like altar.

  And that was the point when I gave it up as the priest approached me and asked to sacrifice for the good of the church nearly five hundred gold coins. Well, actually I scratched on the bottom of the barrel, got lost in the dense forests, hunting for monsters for a week and completing different quests. And I managed to find the required amount. And then donated it to the temple with mental moans and groans. The priest took the money casually and demanded a thousand gold coins, and a canine of the black dragon as a bonus. I didn’t show up in that temple anymore. Actually I didn’t forget to ask about the price of the dragon's tooth, thank god you can find everything in alchemical shops. The price was approximately seven hundred gold coins... Honestly speaking, it is not for me. And don’t forget that God Sness also protects beggars and he demands to give alms to every beggar you see on your way. And it is desirable to be an aggr and steal whenever possible.

  And it was the tip of the iceberg. Once I had a friend –a paladin player. A couple of times we even ran in one party. He was a real fanatic. So finally he got the divine protection by one light god. Protection providing great ‘goodies’ for healing, the denial of evil and something else. Once I asked what kind of ultra goodies they were and what he had to do.

  But he told me nothing, just shrugged, smiled wryly and walked away, humming, ‘Do good all over the land, Do good to others for the good...’

  Hmm ...

  Preoccupied with thoughts and memories, I spent almost half an hour at the tomb, but the spirit of the old Jogly didn’t emerge. All lights of the Last light were trembling, and the night wind was rustling among branches. There are several ways to call a spirit, but I hoped that I wouldn’t have to hold such rituals. For different reasons. Firstly, benevolence of the light gods would decrease, and secondly, I did not know how to do it and I didn’t have the necessary items. Who knew that old Jogly would die so suddenly...

  I could cope with gods. Immersing into the game forum and extracting the necessary information is not a problem, but what to do with the missing ingredients? Maybe I will need, for example, some putrid gas out of the quagmire, or a couple of dozens of black toadstools and that will be the end...

  Having spent several agonizing minutes, I sighed, then stood up, walked a few steps to the side and sat down again leaning my back against a mossy gravestone. And then pushed exit.

  The silent rainbow swirl takes me in its arms with pleasure.

  Exit…

  During my "absence" nothing has changed in the room. Keira was still lying on the bed, with her face buried in the pillow, having thrown the blanket aside. Getting out of the cocoon, I quietly walked over to the bed and stared at the pale face of the girl. Alive, thanks God. But her breath was really hectic, a few beads of sweat covered her face sometimes distorted in a grimace, and her body was shaking by barely noticeable tremor. Comedown began.

  'Ros, oh Ros,’ I whispered. ‘Why do you need, eh?’

  Looking solemnly at Keira, I stood up and walked resolutely to the kitchen. So it will not do! She didn’t want to call the parents and she didn’t want to go to the hospital... fuck!

  First I gutted my first-aid kit and fished out an opened blister with activated carbon. Having estimated the the girl’s weight, I counted six black tablets, thought for a moment and added one more. Then grabbed a bottle of water and went back into the room, no longer trying to behave quietly. I was going to treat her by traditional methods. I sat down on the bed and unceremoniously shook Keira by her lingering shoulder. She mumbled something, keeping the dark head on the pillow.

  'Keira, wake up!’ He growled bothering her.

  'My head... oh, I have a terrible headache ...' without opening her eyes, Keira said.

  ‘I believe you,’ I nodded, clasping her shoulders and helping her to sit down. ‘Take it.’

  I poured a handful of pills into her palm of and ordered, 'Come on, swallow one by one!’

  'What is that?’

  ‘Activated carbon, I explained patiently. ‘Swallow!’

  'I won’t...’

  'Swallow, I said!’ I snapped, slipping her a bottle of water. ‘Three tablets right now. And three more in a couple of hours. And drink a liter of water.’

  'Ros...’

  'Come on, come on,’ I encouraged her. ‘Otherwise you will feel worse.’

  Keira threw three black pills in the mouth dutifully and clung to the neck of the bottle for a long time. When she looked up, she complained again, ‘I have a headache...’

  'You’ll have to be patient,’I sighed, gently stroking her hair. ‘Now take a nap and when you wake up, it will be easier.

  'Give me a painkiller.’

  'I only have aspirin, and it mustn’t be taken together with alcohol. According to your breath you’ve drunk some alcohol today. Bleeding in the stomach will be guaranteed.r />
  'Give me a pill,’ Keira repeated burying her face in my chest. ‘Please. At least one pill. I drank a little, almost nothing.’

  'Well,’ I sighed, pulling the nightstand drawer and took out the package of aspirin and handed the girl one tablet. ‘Take it. And drink much water, little drug addict... damn ... well-done and some more, more water.’

  'I'm not a drug addict!’

  ‘I’m just kidding, just kidding,’ I smiled, and making sure that the aspirin went on purpose, gave the following order, ‘Now get up and march to the toilet.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘To the toilet,’ I repeated, looking bewildered at the suddenly embarrassed girl. Do you hear me? Come on!’

  'Ros, I... I do not want to and...’

  ‘Stop wrangling, cabin boy!’ I growled copying my father. ‘Carry out the order!’

  'Listen...’

  ‘No, it’s you who must listen! You need to get rid of toxins. Otherwise, you will end up badly! Alcohol and unknown dope – what a nice cocktail! It can lead to your liver falling off, or something like this. Now stand up, go to the toilet and get rid of all unnecessary stuff. Then drink some water, and then back into bed. Hurry up!’

  ‘Why do think you’re the boss?’ Keira muttered.

  ‘Would you like me to carry you there?’ I asked menacingly. ‘And control the process? I can!’

  ‘Nope, I’ll do it myself!’ the girl blurted out hastily and immediately grimaced painfully. ‘Oh my head...’

  'On the way, please, listen to your body,’ I said. ‘Test your legs and arms if you feel any pain, crunch, snap, if everything bends properly. After all, you got into an accident. If you want, I'll take you to the hospital? They will check you up, make a dropper, inject something good.’

  'No way!’

  ‘What cannot be cured must be endured,’ I sighed, looking at the girl slowly walking along the hall. ‘If something goes wrong, call me!’

  "Oh, she’s in good shape'' flashed in my mind when I saw Keira without the ridiculous tartan blanket. A short white top and classic blue skinny jeans did not hide the curves of her body.

  Stop... what am I thinking about?

  Shaking my head, I simply turned away and walked to the computer. It's time to check out the game forum for useful information.

  I found a lot of things and nothing at the same time. Dozens of game guru excitedly shared the information on the pages of the forum, listed the ways of calling and controlling ghosts, described the required rituals and so on. But all that didn’t suit me. Because I did not have necessary items and ingredients.

  Only while browsing the second dozen of links, I came across a skimpy review where the unknown author explained briefly and clearly - a ghost is always attached to the buried body for the first few days after the death and, accordingly, to the grave. That is why the last light burns on the grave to illuminate the dark world of ghosts and at the same time it doesn’t allow the soul to escape from the ground to the surface. So that’s why any budding caller has to deal with the last light first. Either put out one or more lights, or change the order of bowls. It was not advised to extinguish flames - the spirit can get offended by such blatant arbitrariness. Simply slide a couple of bowls aside and then the ghost will have a chance to emerge on the surface - if he wants to do it. Importantly if he wants to. Because it’s actually possible to force a ghost to appear, but you must have the necessary equipment. Well ... why not to try it?

  At that moment Keira came back into the room, she was as pale as before, but she seemed to be moving a little faster. She glared at me by her gloomy enormous eyes, silently crawled back into the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Oh dear, how could she breathe? Through the dense cloth?

  ‘Drink some water,’ I reminded her.

  Keira muttered something indistinctly and didn’t move at all.

  Sighing, I repeated a little louder, ‘Have a drink of water, then lie down on your right side under the blanket. Your jeans are two sizes smaller than you need, so unbutton your trendy belt and unzip the jeans. Do not look at me like that! Believe me, I’m not dreaming about your body Just nothing should prevent your breath. Especially now.

  'Ross, you're worse than Aunt Lena!

  'Who?’

  'Never mind!’ Keira gurgled and took the almost empty bottle of water.

  'Good girl,’ I said. ‘Lie down. When you wake up tomorrow, life won’t seem so sad.’

  'Uh-huh.’

  ‘And take the blanket.’

  ‘But it’s hot...’

  ‘That's good. The more you sweat, the better,’ I concluded, standing up and taking a step to the gaming cocoon.

  ‘Are you going to sleep in the cocoon?’

  ‘Almost,’ I smiled, groaning whilegetting on an elastic bed and leaning back. ‘I have an important meeting in Valdira. Take a nap. And one more thing… If you feel worse, then get me out of the game immediately. Just push the emergency exit. Got it?

  'Yes, Daddy. By the way, what kind of relic is it?’ one eye looked at me from the blanket, studying my old cocoon. ‘Such models are not sold any longer. They don’t have any additional systems, just bare base.’

  ‘You know I'm not a rich man,’ I said dully, putting on my helmet, ‘and it works well. Good night, Keira.

  'Good…' I didn’t hear the end of the phrase.

  A rainbow crater was unfolding In front of me spanning me deeper and deeper.

  Entrance.

  During my absence nothing has changed at the cemetery. Neither bad nor good. In principle, I did not expect anything to change.

  Furtively looking around, I lowered on one knee and broke the circle of lamps by a few quick movements. Moved four of them in different directions, and removed the fifth from the mound of ground. And before I could straighten up, a sudden sharp gust of wind instantly extinguished the last light that I spoilt, the tomb got wrapped in the ghostly bluish light. I was about to smile happily when a terrible bearded head with glowing red eyes jumped from the ground and comeing closely to my face, screamed wildly, showering me by clots of shadowy saliva, ‘I was killed! I was killed!’

  'Ahhh!’ I shouted in surprise, while performing incredible back flip over the head and found myself in three steps from the grave.

  Without any hesitation the ghost slid after me,, his translucent hands grabbed my shoulders and sticking to my face, he yelled again to rend a heart, ‘I waaaaaas killed!’

  'Ahhh!’ I repeated my cry in my turn.

  The ugly ghost terrified me when popped up so unexpectedly that triggered my instincts. And the ghostly whitish drops of saliva made the things worse… but what should I be afraid of...

  Achievement!

  You’ve got an achievement "Spirits Caller" of the first rank!

  See the table of your achievements in the settings of your character.

  Your reward for this achievement:

  Your reward for this achievement + 0.5% to the successful call of the spirit.

  The current size of the bonus:+ 0.5%

  ‘Get off me!’ I growled, shoving the impending spirit. As expected, my hands quietly passed through the body of the ghost. But the ghost obeyed and via the same sliding motion sailed back a little and wailed again, ‘I waaaaaas killed! ‘I waaaaaas killed!’

  ‘Quiet!’ I hissed, finally coming to my senses and the puzzled ghost shut up.

  ‘Well done!’ I nodded. ‘Why are you shouting so loudly? Do you want to wake up all the dead at the cemetery?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear me the mortal?!’ the foggy ghost dramatically increased in size, a menacing crimson light flashed in the eyes again. ‘I said...’

  'That you were killed,’ I helped him to finish the phrase. ‘That's why I bothered your peace, dear Jogly. If you are the old fisherman called Jogly.’

  'Peace?!’ the ghost roared back, his handss clasped behind his head, and he started swaying from side to side. ‘What peace are you talking about?! I was killed! How can I r
est in the grave if my killer hasn’t been punished?! Anger and rage are overwhelming me! And my son... this narrow-minded fool who sees nothing beyond his nose...’

  'Well, yes, we can only dream about rest... Sorry, so are you definitely the old fisherman Jogly?’

  'Yes! I used to be... but now, my life is very vague...’

  'How vague is it?’ I asked anxiously. Did the old man forget everything... then it’s a problem.’

  ‘But I still remember who killed me!’ ghostly Jogly roared furiously, swelling more and more reaching the height of three humans.

  ‘Hey, sir! Could you blow back, please! Cause I'm not looking at your face now rather at your... it’s so embarrassing!’

  Letting out a long-drawn and dull sigh the ghost blew back to his normal size and suddenly complained, ‘You’re so boring!’

  'Yah?’ I was offended. ‘But my neighbors don’t think so... ahem, ahem .. Oh the kind spirit of old Jogly, my name is Rosgard the Truth-Searcher, I am traveling around the world to restore justice. Here are...’

  During my brief and pompous speech ghostly Jogly fell back into his grave and supporting his bearded chin by his fist, he was listening to me intently.

  'Do you mean the whole world?’ he asked incredulously, and I grimaced with displeasure.

  'Yeah, all over the world, sir.’

  'And have you crossed the ocean?’ the ghost asked happily. ‘And how was it? Do people really walk upside down there and draw fish from the water by troughs?’

  ‘Sir! In fact, I have broken your peace to dispel the veil of secrecy over your death and to punish those who are responsible to the fullest extent, and I am here to...’

  'Wait, wait,’ the old man was waving his transparent arms at me. ‘So you’re saying you’re travelling all over the world and… this… how do you call it… justice... what do you do with it?’

  'Restore,’ I muttered in puzzlement, looking at the old man. It seems that he had a demon in his rib when alive... Curiosity was gleaming in his eyes. It was so interesting that he even forgot about his own violent death. He shouted enough in the first minute, gave vent to his feelings and calmed down.