by G. Akella
You've accessed the quest: The Great Prophecy of Arkon.
Quest type: artifact, chain. No more than seventeen sentient beings can be used to complete this quest.
Find the Nameless God on the Primordial Paths and free him from captivity.
Reward: experience, increased reputation with the Creator.
So there it was. The final chain of these endless quests. I owed Syrat my thanks. His hint had made things easy. Vill was one of the captors of the White Dragon, and I had obtained the doll from his vault, which was somehow linked to the Primordial Paths. Now to talk things over with everyone else and decide whom to bring along...
I cleaned up the room quickly and went downstairs, only to find no one there. Food, drink and utensils lay strewn about the table, so they must have just left. To admire Donut, of course. That rascal...
I placed my room key on the bar and jogged outside, closing the door behind me, and patted George on the muzzle as he came over to say hello. The crowd was noticeably bigger now, and the yard resembled the domain of a circus troupe performing their show in a large medieval city. The noise was intense. The locals stood in festive clothes, in a semicircle, around the inn exit, loudly discussing the five griffins of various colors, their riders, and the two twelve-foot-long bone dragons. Some of the spectators had climbed onto the stable roof and were shouting exclamations of all kinds.
"We figured we might be too full to walk after lunch, dar," smiled Vaessa.
"I told them! But nobody listens to me," Reece protested, holding the reins of his steel-gray steed. Then, he pulled a lemon out of his bag and bit into it with theatrical defiance.
Well, then. Best we stay out of Ellorian for a hundred years or so. I glanced around at the mirthful crowd, shook my head and grinned, then mentally pressed a black button on my action bar.
Gloom appeared out of the air a yard or two away. The crowd’s murmur grew noticeably. The razorback frowned at the crowd, but then realized there was no fight going on, so he walked over and nudged me in the side. At that moment, shouting was heard from the gate.
Make way for the lady!"
The crowd parted, and Jaelitte moseyed towards me like a fashion model down the runway. The eight level 400 guards that accompanied her froze near the gate. Silence fell over the square. Had they nothing left to say? Or were they astounded at this demoness who had forgotten to disguise herself?
"Hi!" Lita gracefully tossed her hands around my neck and kissed me on the lips. "I got lost, but these boys kindly agreed to escort me. I hope you’re not angry, dear?"
Hot damn.
Only a truly amazing woman could boost the self-esteem of her man to infinite heights with a mere phrase or two.
I mounted my boar, leaned over and grabbed Lita, and sat her in front of me. She could summon her own griffin later.
With one hand I gently held her to me, and with the other I gestured farewell. "Move out!" My arm switched from waving to guiding Gloom toward the cleared exit.
We left the city immediately, with no adventures. The guards who had taken it upon themselves to accompany us to the South Gate kept all of the curious civilians away. No one was overly inquisitive, though, nor dared they stand in our way. Yes, much had changed in recent days. Earlier, the game had been filled with trolls. But that was back when the pain function could be disabled. You could unequip your valuable gear and go spit at the king himself - if only you could get close enough. But now, arrogance and brashness would call down painful judgment, especially if the subject of your trolling was in the right - and happened to be stronger than you. "Democracy" wasn’t the word for the local order of things. Still, there were some sickos out there who would climb into a cage with a hungry lion just for the glory. So our group breathed a sigh of relief once we were out of the city. Lita could behave herself, as she had said herself, but it was best to avoid any potential confrontation. One idiot with enough brashness could trigger a local Armageddon. And who would want that on the eve of a holiday?
As soon as we had exited the gate, Lita settled herself into my arms a little closer, gave me a guilty look, and sighed heavily.
"My dear, I’m afraid that..."
"...that you won’t be able to help me search for the Nameless," I finished, holding back a smile. "That my blood will find none but me, and even that, not right away."
"Hmm. I can see you already know how to find him, though," Lita added in the same tone. "Of course, I could play along. Blink my eyelashes in delight and even nod in agreement when you call me a little girl but say I’ll get it right next time. Only I’m just too curious about how you’ll find him."
"Nice. Didn’t even need a lemon this time," Reece remarked to himself as he rode alongside.
"A lemon?" the demoness inquired.
"Ask this genius about that later," I snorted, pointing at the mage. Then I switched to the party channel. "Listen up, everyone. Here’s the latest."
I brought them up to speed as we traveled, and then shared the quest with them all. By then, we had reached the Southern Outpost, beyond which we could set up our portal to the Wild Wood, or to wherever Max was hiding from his devoted fans. The party spent some time mulling over what they had heard and read. Donut was the first to sound off, unsurprisingly.
"A rep boost with the Creator?" He leaped from his griffin and looked at me in surprise. "What does RP-17 have to do with the Nameless?"
"Jaelitte says that Nameless is his shadow." I gently lifted my wife off of my boar’s back. "Think carefully about who'll be going."
That surprised Donut even more. "What’s there to think about? We number seventeen! Max has eleven, and you have six. I’m pretty sure you won’t even be able to share this quest with anyone else. Come on, let’s keep going. We’ll talk about this later."
Donut opened a portal and led his griffin through it, disappearing into the light-green haze.
He’s right. We number seventeen. I looked the party over. RP-17 certainly does love its own number.
I waited for everyone to enter the portal, then called over Gloom and followed after.
You have left the party.
Loop of Distortion, Vineta. Zone level 447.
I rose from the cold asphalt, wincing at the terrible smell of the place, then glanced at the moon hanging over the city. The square was a familiar sight. Nothing had changed since I had seen it last. The pedestal with its remnant legs, the rusted lampposts and crooked houses, the holes in the pavement. The wind howled through discarded pipes and still blew garbage around the square. But some things were different. I did have my inventory, all my equipment, and my sword in its sheath. The undead on all four streets leading away from the square had noticeably higher levels, but the bars above their heads were now green. So they think I’m a friend…
None of my party was with me. Nor was Gloom. Either case would have been strange, though. There was no use getting agitated - the System didn't give a damn about my protests. I looked at the wrecked wagon in front of the house just opposite me and grinned. Would the cow’s corpse still be there? I couldn’t shake the thought! I’d have to go check - it seemed foolish, but no one was around to see it. Except for the skeletons. I pulled my pipe from my bag and lit it as I kicked a rock towards the wagon and started in its direction.
The cow was indeed there. Well, its rat-gnawed skeleton was there, anyway. Even the rats had abandoned it by now. A rusty ax, a broken bottle, and rotten bags lay nearby. This was exactly the place, no doubt about it. Though perhaps I was rushing to conclusions. My curiosity over the killed cow satisfied, I set my mind to figuring out what the hell was going on.
With a grunt, I sat on the curb and reflected on the mobs crowding the street.
So, what was happening here? I wasn’t drunk, and the stuff in my pipe wasn’t that strong, so this was clearly some external influence. It likely wasn’t the action of some enemy. What idiot would send me to the very place I had been planning to visit? The others had the quest as well, but
the portal had taken them to the Wild Wood, unlike me. Or so I hoped, anyway. Did somebody want to separate us? I doubted that even the gods would be capable of such interference. Max had been in a similar situation before, but Sata had merely redirected the portal itself, not sorted the people who entered it out into different locations. Morrigan was a master at tricks like this. It was she who had sent us to Darkaan, but that time Maloc’s legion had been much easier to scatter throughout the Great Forest and then crush one part at a time. It seemed to me that the System was squarely to blame here. The usual conclusion for when you didn’t know whom to blame. Except the System didn’t care about such accusations.
That meant that I likely had my own task to accomplish here first, and the others would join me later, assuming Syrat was right and Lita could find me. All right, so that made sense. But what should I do? Repeat my actions from before? No, that would be pointless. The green undead would give me zero experience, and I wasn’t about to start killing friendlies. Maybe a kill or two would turn them into unfriendlies, but that was the last thing I would try here. The pragmatists might think me mad for this, but I didn’t care. Instead, I would just choose a direction and head that way. I was bound to run into something or someone eventually. With this thought, I took my last puff, knocked out my pipe on a stone, and walked down the street leading to my left.
Two zombies from the closest pack froze as I approached, staring at me out of their rotting eye holes. I placed my hand on my sword, just in case, but there was no need. The skeletons even parted for me, clearing the way. One of the zombies snarled something at me as I moved past them. A greeting? Unintelligible. He should learn to wave, at least. But I wasn’t about to let my guard down. Drawing my weapon, I gripped it in my right hand and kept watch on the doors and windows in the houses on both sides as I moved on.
The adventures began after a couple of hours, when I passed a partially collapsed three-story building. A hoarse, monstrous roar gripped the street, and a huge, hunchbacked shadow darted at me from the darkness of a doorway. I rolled forward and to the left, hearing the fangs of the creature chomp over my head, then stood and immediately attacked with Ice Blade. Its narrow crimson eyes glittered in the light of the moon as it clawed at the stones. Two arrows sank into the straightening monster’s side - skeletal warriors from the nearest pack had rushed to my aid. Then my Tongue of Flame scored a crit and ended the battle.
A quick survey of the area told me that no other enemies were around. The skeletal archers lowered their weapons and, as if nothing had happened, returned to their places. The warriors from the same pack followed.
Hell. This is surreal.
I grunted as I watched them go, then walked over to the mob’s corpse. It was a strange mixture of bonehound and rat. Similar to the creature that had leaped out of Cathella’s citadel. I hadn’t learned the local language yet, so I couldn’t discern the beast’s name or HP. All I saw were assortments of sticks and triangles, like on the alien’s watch from Predator. Or whatever that arm computer thing had been? The same symbols sat over the heads of the skeletons. Not that I cared about my literacy in this zombie town.
Leaning over, I touched the mob’s bone armor and pulled out a piece of battered beige leather. I thought for a moment. Judging by the two hits, one of them a crit, which it had taken me to kill this thing, it had more than ten million HP, but the loot was about as valuable as a lump of coal... Unless? I turned the leather over and smiled. It was part of a map. Judging by the border, it was the upper-right quarter, to be precise. I saw parallel streets, small squares, and incomprehensible names. It sure didn’t look like New York. Apparently the System had adequately convinced itself of my stupidity and had decided to offer a hint. Excellent! All I had to do was wait for the rest of the fragments and go from there.
I glanced around at the houses in the area, then settled my gaze on the door out of which the mob had charged. Perhaps there was more of interest inside? I had plenty of time to investigate. Time flowed much more slowly here than it did on Karn.
Tossing the leather map piece into my bag, I cast a light source and headed for the darkened doorway.
The smell of mold accosted my nostrils as I crossed the high threshold and looked around. It was an alchemy shop, or something of the sort. The floorboards were cracked and rotten in places, and the jagged ceiling was overgrown with a whitish fungus. Along the far wall ran rusty shelves with even rows of multicolored flasks, bottles and boxes. The counter in front of the shelves had rotted into dust. It all reminded me of a horror movie I had seen as a child, the kind where some idiot walked around the house with a candle, and of course got eaten by a monster. I didn’t have a candle, so hopefully I wouldn't get eaten by the thing. Assuming it was candles that really caught its fancy?
I whirled at a metallic clang coming from the outside, raising my sword to strike, and... exhaled in relief. One of the skeletons had decided to look inside the house and had apparently stepped on a sheet of metal placed by the window. My curious comrade’s jaw was slightly twisted, creating the impression of a mouth open in surprise. This didn’t match the horror film vibe. Horror comedy, more like.
I winked at the skeleton staring at me, walked over to the shelves and carefully considered everything placed on them. Nothing special caught my eye, nor did the System highlight anything. All of the bottles and boxes were covered with a layer of dust. Each label bore inscriptions made of the same sticks and triangles. Some also bore images of skulls. I was no alchemist, but I could tell that there was nothing here of real value. After all, who would keep their most valuable wares right in view behind the counter? And even these items had likely expired with age... But after ten seconds of hesitation, I pulled a small sack out of my bag and scooped all of the shelves’ contents into it, Grinch-style. These things wouldn’t overburden me, and Vaessa, Raena and Reece would have an orgy of mage nerdliness deciphering all of these inscriptions and mixing up liquids and powders. Ah, alchemists...
Tossing the sack into my inventory, I winked at the skeleton, which showed no intention of leaving, and walked into the next room and then to the second floor, up a staircase in fairly good shape. In the first room upstairs I found a doll, just like the one that had sent me here. It sat in the far corner, beneath a staircase leading to the third floor, amidst the shards of a shattered porcelain vase. The doll had an incomprehensibly intact black dress with little frills that comically matched her deathly pale face. And yes, she was just as ugly as the one I had taken from this place last time. A perfect bride for Chucky. Without a moment’s hesitation, I picked it up. The porcelain freak’s eyes opened and she spoke a strange word to me. It was perfectly intelligible, but not in a tongue I could understand. It could have meant "mama" or "die!" for all I knew? I smiled, put it in my bag, and went to search the rest of the premises. Alyona would still receive her present, after all. I only hoped to survive the time just after I gave it to her.
Neither the second nor the third floors of the building yielded anything interesting, and I began to consider leaving but instead decided to climb onto the roof. I found myself on a small stone platform and at last breathed in some fresh air. I looked around, then froze in admiration. About four miles from where I was located, I could see an enormous pyramid. Made of dark stone, it loomed majestically over the houses, running all the way to the horizon. The top of the pyramid was enveloped in a gray cloud. It was eerie, yet astonishingly beautiful. That must be it. Why hadn’t I thought to ascend to roofs before? I guess every such discovery seemed obvious in hindsight.
With a sigh, I surveyed the town one last time and made for the pyramid.
Chapter 9
There are a lot of disturbed people on Earth who believe that the Egyptian pyramids were built by someone, anyone, other than the Egyptians themselves. Aliens, wizards, giants long extinct... Human stupidity can be truly infinite. People do not care about the conclusions of scientists, of experts, or obvious facts. The notes from ancient Egyptian co
nstruction managers mean nothing to them. Nor does a scholarly analysis of the material the pyramids are made of: stone from nearby quarries. There’s nothing you can say to convince them otherwise, either. In 2030, seven countries had combined their efforts to finally build a station on the Moon, a place that held a permanent population of about fifty people, and yet some earthlings continued asserting that their homeworld was flat. There was no point being upset about such terrible ignorance, and no need to prove anything. Arguing with a sheep could have the sad effect of bringing you down to its level.
But that was there. Here, things were much more interesting. This Vineta Pyramid was significantly larger than even Egypt’s Great Pyramid. It had a pentagonal base instead of a square one, each side four hundred yards long, and it was carved out of solid stone. Not stones. One single freaking stone!!! I wondered what all of those conspiracy theorists would say about this? Of course, they would say what I would: a designer probably threw up the whole thing in a couple of minutes! Where had they gotten their inspiration? In Arkon, all of the castles and pyramids and temples might have theoretically been actually built at some point... But I’d sooner believe in a flat Earth than believe someone could have worked to grind this behemoth to such perfect smoothness! That would have required a whole brigade of gods sweating and toiling over it.
The pyramid was situated on a huge plot of land and looked much more impressive up close. Steps carved into one of its sides led up to the cloud-enveloped top. Every twenty yards or so along the base, marble statues stood on high, rectangular pedestals. They depicted men and women, as well as some strange humanoid creatures with rounded heads and massive almond-shaped eyes. Some wore full armor, but others nothing more than loincloths. Alas, most of the statues had long since fallen apart. The area was full of all kinds of rubbish: chunks of rock, the rotting frames of trade booths, bent rusted pipes with seats attached to them. The latter looked like the remnants of some kind of merry-go-round. The place had, by all appearances, once been a recreation area for the townspeople. The townspeople were still here, in fact. A lot of them, milling about in the square. Skeletons of all stripes, zombies, ghouls, wandering around the pyramid, occasionally directing blank stares at me. The bars above their heads were still green, thankfully.
