by Akella, G.
Tongue of Flame XIII.
Instant cast.
Energy cost: 65 points.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
You attack the enemy with a blade burning with the power of fire, dealing 310% damage on top of the weapon's base damage and ignoring 10% physical defense.
Now that the obvious part was over with, where should I invest the remaining thirteen points? The next tiers of my primary talents would only be available at level 260. Should I raise Power of Earth again? Or work toward Stone Disc XI? The latter would require consuming eleven points, which seemed like a paltry return on investment given the skill's laughably poor damage as compared to my main attack skills. I mainly used it for pulling mobs from a distance, so a bit extra damage hardly seemed necessary...
I picked up the cup of coffee and brought it to my lips, scrolling the mouse wheel absently, zooming out and displaying the skills of all schools of magic simultaneously, and suddenly my eyes caught a talent tree I hadn't seen before. I selected the tree and zoomed in... and froze, stunned by what I was seeing. Chaos magic!
"Hart!" I swore, taking a big swig of coffee automatically. As my tongue registered the burning sensation, I jerked my hand away, spilling the hot beverage on my pants, and swore for the second time. "Where the hell did that come from?!"
Setting the cup back down, I wiped the spilled liquid with my sleeve, grumbling under my breath all the while. Then, my eyes still glued to the screen, I changed into a clean pair of pants, took a drag on my pipe, and got to thinking.
Could the Path of Primordial Chaos be the reason? I even had a portion of it glowing on my finger. I gazed contemplatively at the ruby set into the ring, the illumination seemingly coming from its very core. Or was Jaelitte somehow responsible? Either way, what did it matter?! Discarding the remains of my coffee, I refilled the cup with cognac, and downed it in one shot. Indeed, it didn't matter one bit where the branch had come from, but only that it was now available! The tree was almost entirely concealed—all I could see were four unobscured squares, of which I could invest talent points into three, with the fourth becoming available at level 290. All the other talents, besides being hidden, would only become available after level 300. The tree itself began at level 220, and featured fewer talents than elemental magic, but that didn't phase me one bit—I cared most about quality, not quantity.
Taking another deep drag, I focused on the first available talent.
Dispersion I.
Instant cast.
Duration: 10 seconds.
Mana cost: 500 points.
Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Primordial Chaos protects those who follow its path. You create a cloud of unstable matter that surrounds you, absorbing 5% incoming damage and 20% damage from area of effect spells.
Not bad at all! The spell could be raised to tier five, thereby reducing all targeted incoming damage by a quarter and nearly immunizing myself to AoE spells. Too bad that the quarter would only apply to the damage that got past all the other defenses; that is, after all the damage absorbed by my armor, shield and/or resistances, a blow for, say, one thousand HP, would be reduced to seven hundred fifty. Still, this was a terrific skill any way you sliced it.
Dispersion opened up two threads to skills yet unavailable to me. One of them was Power of Primordial Chaos, analogous to Power of Earth, boosting the power of the spells from this school of magic by 5% for every invested talent point. As for the second skill...
Fury of Primordial Chaos I.
Instant cast.
Duration: 10 seconds.
Effective range: 50 yards.
Mana cost: 2000 points.
Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Primordial Chaos exacts terrible vengeance upon any who dare to assault its adherents. A Dispersion effect is applied to you, unleashing twisters of unstable matter that soak in any hostile area-of-effect magic, convert it to Chaos magic, double its impact and turn it against your enemies.
Bloody hell! At the fifth tier, the damage multiplier would be ten. If memory served me right, Reece's Ice Shower lasted half a minute and dealt two and half thousand damage per second, making it quite survivable with a decent amount of cold resistance. Besides, the mage had to remain immobile while casting it, becoming an easy target for any warrior or archer paying attention. That made the skill largely useless in skirmishes involving smallish numbers—the mana cost was too high, and it made the mage way too vulnerable. But this wasn't ice! This was chaos, against which there was virtually no resistance, neither here in Demon Grounds nor in the upper plane! At least that was the situation before the patch. Barring a few special abilities like paladin's Holy Shield or priest's Shield of Faith, there was no way any opponent would survive such an AoE. All of the game's classes had talents dealing area-of-effect damage. A frost mage could cast a boulder of ice around himself, a necromancer could surround himself with a shield of bones that absorbed damage, but Fury of Primordial Chaos certainly pushed the boundaries of balance. Then again, what freaking balance?! Any notion of balance was gone from this world the moment real pain was introduced and high-level NPCs became self-aware. Simply, irrevocably gone. And that made this particular talent downright indispensable. The moment you're hit with somebody's AoE, you push a button and watch everything around you disintegrate. Which highlighted the one glaring problems with the talent: everything would disintegrate, both friend and foe. And it wasn't likely that anyone would deploy an AoE against me alone. Still, likely or not, this was another must-have. Besides, without investing five points into this talent I couldn't reach the fourth, Spear of Chaos, available at level 290.
Spear of Chaos I.
Instant cast.
Effective range: 50 yards.
Mana cost: 800 points.
Cooldown: 2 seconds.
Deals 4000-5000 Chaos magic damage to the enemy.
Simple, yet elegant—toss the Spear and drop your opponent's health bar by a quarter. I based the calculations on my own HP of twenty six thousand, and I was pretty decently geared—your average player should have less health than that. Never mind the fact that Ksenjhuan—the clan master of Azure Dragons and the highest-level player in the game at the time of my character's creation—was a "lowly" level 234, whereas I was already at 245. To be sure, she must have kept herself pretty busy since the patch and was probably ahead of me at the present, but I sincerely doubted that the pool of 240+ players was very large. The other thing that made the talent so enticing was, again, the fact that this was Chaos magic, which could easily become a major trump card up above.
Done with my smoke, I knocked out the pipe into the ash tray, then threw five points into Dispersion and Fury of Primordial Chaos, and three into Power of Primordial Chaos, thus boosting the entire school of magic by 15%.
Dispersion V.
Instant cast.
Duration: 50 seconds.
Mana cost: 900 points.
Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Primordial Chaos protects those who follow its path. You create a cloud of unstable matter that surrounds you, absorbing 25% incoming damage and 100% damage from area of effect spells.
Fury of Primordial Chaos V.
Instant cast.
Duration: 50 seconds.
Effective range: 50 yards.
Mana cost: 4000 points.
Cooldown: 5 minutes.
Primordial Chaos exacts terrible vengeance upon any who dare to assault its adherents. A Dispersion effect is applied to you, unleashing twisters of unstable matter that soak in any hostile area-of-effect magic, convert it to Chaos magic, increase its impact tenfold and turn it against your enemies.
I put both skills on the action bar and the combat form bar, got up from the desk and glanced at the clock. It was four in the afternoon. The celebration was slated to begin at seven, so I still had a few hours to get some shuteye. I stretched, my back sore from all that sitting, and gave my newly acquired skills another look-over, their icons glowing a dark orange color. Today was
a good day. On this day I became even stronger, which meant I was one step closer to my goal. How many more steps would it take? A hundred? A million? It didn't matter how many—I would walk this path to the end. The prophecy? Cheney? The Twice Cursed God? The hell with them all! All that I could do was to keep going. One day at a time, one step at a time.
With those thoughts, I set the alarm for seven, climbed into bed without bothering to remove my clothes, and drifted into sleep.
Chapter 15
"Hart! How I hate bustling after drinking!" Gerid grimaced, giving his puffing lizard a soothing pat on the neck, and took several swigs from the flask he just wouldn't put down. "Feels like wading through some kind of nasty viscous slush." Screwing shut the lid, he slipped a pipe into his mouth, and looked over at me. "Is this really so urgent?"
"Aye," I nodded. "I'm sorry, but I really am pressed for time. There are still things I need to take care of today; tomorrow at noon I'm meeting with the lord, and by eventide I'm hoping to be in Iskhart. Here," I handed him a piece of parchment. "Have a look and let me know if you can arrange it. If you can, let me know how much time and money it would take."
The demon took the parchment, read the contents carefully, and gave an understanding grunt.
"No need for money—I have all this already. It'll be ready in four hours or so."
"Excellent," I smiled. "I trust you realize how important this is to me?"
"I get it," mounting his lizard with ease, Gerid looked up at the clouds gathering over Nittal, and motioned toward the city walls. "But we'd better hurry, dar. It'll start raining any minute, and I don't particularly feel like soaking. I'm soaked enough from the inside, thank you very much."
I grinned, hopped onto Gloom, and we made for the city gates.
So damn complicated... I kept thinking, gazing at the trees lining the roadside, their naked branches looking particularly dreary against the dirty gray sky. There had formed a border between me and the demons who had gathered to celebrate last night. Though everyone had been all smiles, I could still feel a falseness to their joy. The only ones I felt truly comfortable with were Kort, Gerid, Treis and Captain Vellakh, who turned up at the party with his wife on his arm, a comely fair-haired demoness. There rest of them were actively trying to avoid locking eyes with me. I didn't blame them, realizing full well the kind of monster they saw when looking at me, but knowing it still didn't make me feel better. And so I ended up feeling pretty damn lousy at the end of last night's festivities.
But really, to hell with them! My own people weren't recoiling from me—at least not yet—and that was enough. Once in the upper plane, I imagined nobody would give a damn whether I'm an Elder Demon or a plush bunny. And all that paled in comparison to what awaited me today. I stroked the nape of my boar's neck, and followed Gerid into the wide open city gates, whereupon my companion and I parted ways. He headed for his Candle, and I guided the razorback into the northern section of the city, where Kert's mother dwelt. This time, I wasn't subjected to any customs inspections.
I hope you didn't forget anything? Jaelitte inquired with a dash of irony in her voice.
As if, I gave a mental smile. I just need to drop by for a quick chat with my buddy's mom. From there, I'll be heading straight to the Violet. You yourself have said that noon is the best time.
That I did, the demoness conceded. See you soon, husband.
Later, I said, guiding Gloom around the Temple of All Gods. Pretty as those marble statues were amid the trees, I wasn't going to go in there now—the one time was more than enough. If anyone needed me, they would find me, but showing up at the temple with a ring inside which burned an element of Primordial Chaos might not be wise. Even if the ring could no longer be looted from me, it might nonetheless instill animus toward me that I would rather avoid. So, no pilgrimages for me. At least not until I rescued Jaelitte.
Liata daressa Annat, referred to as "Lita" by Kert before perishing in the West Wing in my vision, looked to be about thirty five in human years. Short and on the skinny side, the tiflingess had huge gray eyes and short hair the color of ripened wheat. Upon learning my identity, she gave a friendly smile and led me into a spacious living room on the second floor of her three-story house. The estate itself, including the garden out in front, was virtually identical to the estate belonging to the family of Raey dar Ylsan. The only differences I spotted amounted to minor variations in interior furnishings, wall art and garden statues. The devs seemed to have stuck to a certain prototype of dwelling for nobility. Everything would certainly change with time, but I doubted that anyone knew when with any degree of certainty.
Reappearing after a couple of minutes with a tray, the demoness set the table with a teapot and two bowls filled with various local sweets. After pouring the tea into two small porcelain cups, Kert's mother took a seat across from me and gave an inviting gesture. The tea had a strong and exquisite flavor. Perhaps the demoness was privy to some kind of tea brewing secret, or maybe it was the fact that I hadn't had tea since coming into the game half a year ago, but the sensation was unlike any I'd had before. We kept silent for several minutes, with Liata immersed in her own thoughts, and me relishing the flavor of this wondrous beverage while checking out the paintings on the walls.
"You know, prince," the demoness broke the silence first. "I was always sure that my husband perished in that terrible fire, along with his friend, the immature and excitable genius after whom we'd named our son. I didn't doubt it, yet I was afraid to learn the details of his death. Then, two months ago my son told me everything. About my husband, Kert, and the old gatekeeper. And several days ago..." the woman set her cup on the table, sat back in her chair and looked off to the side. "Several days ago the lord granted all of us a great honor: the gatekeeper's children and grandchildren were raised to nobility, and I will be leaving soon to join my son in Zorn. Only... only Kert was left without nothing. All that remains of him is a memory, and my son who carries his name." The woman bit her lower lip, turning her gaze to me sharply as tears welled up in her eyes. "You're a dreamer. You know what my husband thought in those last moments of his life. What he felt. I beg you, tell me everything. I want to hear it from you."
My story lasted about an hour. I spoke, and Liata listened in silence. Not a single question was asked throughout—the demoness sat there with a stone face, like one of the statues in her own garden. It wasn't until the very end when I got to the goddess' gift that she flinched and grew pale in the face.
"Setara... Wait, hold on." Liata rose quickly from her chair and left the room.
She returned three minutes later, and set down on the table a silver female statuette. With her wings spread and her shield held out in front, the Goddess of Justice had her punishing sword raised high overhead. And if beholding her statue in a temple evoked a feeling of impetuous flight, this statuette conjured up thoughts of the inevitability of her punishment.
"My husband revered the Goddess of Justice," the demoness spoke softly. "One day he came home and showed me this. He said he'd bought it for fifty gold from some trader. I told him that he had been cheated, as these were common statuettes that sold at that same market for ten gold at the most." The woman gave a sad chuckle and sighed. "But the trader had told Cymon that this particular one contained a feather of the Goddess of Justice, and whoever owns it may always address her directly. And my husband believed him. I didn't push the issue, but now that you've just mentioned Setara... I want you to have it." Liata picked up the statuette of the goddess and held it out to me. "As a memento of my husband. For all that you've lived through while in his skin."
"This is too generous a gift," I tried to refuse. "If—"
"No," the demoness shook her head. "The goddess' image brings me nothing but sorrow. It will be better this way. I know it will."
"Thank you," I rose from the chair, accepting the silver sculpture of the goddess who had bestowed her favor upon me, and tucked it away carefully in my bag.
"It's I w
ho should be thanking you. It's because of you that my son and I know how Cymon and his friend met their deaths," the demoness replied softly. "Farewell, prince. May justice and luck be always at your side."
Luck... I wouldn't mind that, for sure, I thought with sadness, remembering the werefox's magic smile, as I rounded the citadel at an easy gait. Luck was something everybody could use, but justice depended on you and you alone—only you could decide how to act in any given situation.
Nittal was just as I remembered it from my past visit. The air was still scented with freshly baked goods, cinnamon and wet wooden shavings. Eastern winds gusted the clouds away from the city just as they began to disgorge rain, letting the sun's rays shine down and bounce off surfaces of pools and puddles. The city's dwellers were leaving their homes and getting back to their usual routines. Like a locomotive gradually picking up speed, the city was returning to life—axes banging, various mechanisms screeching and grinding—as the residents rushed to make use of every minute free of foul weather. After a moment's deliberation, I started in the direction of Master Regus' shop. No, I wasn't in the market for any elixirs—I simply wanted to give Gerid the time he needed to carry out my request. It didn't take me long to locate the right alley and the tiny shop with the big-bellied flask on the signpost. Master Regus hadn't changed, though the sight of me cast the old alchemist into a stupor right quick. Though he recognized me at once, all he could muster in response to my questions were absentminded nods and monosyllabic answers, punctuated by the occasional unintelligible grunt. Deciding not to confound the old man any longer, I bought a few elixirs and took my leave of the once-hospitable shopkeeper. Indeed, it was time to get used to being treated like a monster or a demigod by regular demons—resenting them over it would be as foolish as resenting an infant for soiling his diaper. With those thoughts, I took the scenic route toward The Forest Violet. Truly, noon was a far better time to visit the establishment than midnight. Dara should be there all alone—during our last meeting she had told me that she actually owned the property, and the "shop" didn't open its doors until six in the evening. All the better—I would rather avoid needless gossip and risk any sentients finding out about my ring.
