The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2)

by Alexey Osadchuk

  Which was good news, really. I might still do my daily quota, provided the local emerald fields weren't located too far away. I'd have to check the map.

  "I'll take them," I said to the wizard. "All seven. They will fit my set of sapphire runes just fine."

  "Great news!" Nilius seemed sincerely happy. "No amount of rain can damage your clothes now. Just make sure you don't abuse them. It wouldn't be a good idea to stay out in the rain for hours at a time."

  I nodded. "Thank you. May I install them here?"

  "Absolutely! Be my guest!"

  After about ten minutes, I left the shop. My characteristics sported a new line:

  Resistance to Humidity: +105

  This was one good thing. At least now I didn't risk losing all my clothes at the least opportune moment. I imagined my gear melting like soggy paper... yuck.

  It was a good job I'd come to this particular shop. Firstly, because of the discount. Even though auction prices for elemental protection were cheaper, Nilius' offer had made it worth my while.

  Secondly, in the absence of the Internet I'd gleaned quite a bit from my conversation with the wizard. I'd learned a lot about other things — like different kinds of elemental protection to name just one.

  Thirdly, I'd received a quest. Which was only natural, considering that Nilius was an NPC. I could understand Varn's enthusiasm much better now. His job was to advertise Nilius' shop to all and sundry. In return, Nilius offered his "agents" some decent discounts and bonuses every time they needed something from his shop. Good system.

  The rain was bucketing down. Perfect weather to check out my new acquisitions. I purposefully stepped into the next puddle that chanced my way. My boots stayed dry! Ditto for my clothes: they too were dry as if covered with a layer of protective film. Excellent.

  Cold raindrops pelted my face; rivulets of water ran down my beard. Still, I was smiling. Things had turned out not as bad as they had originally seemed.

  As I stepped into the next puddle in my way, I noticed that my experiments had an audience. It took me a few more moments to realize:

  I was being followed.

  Chapter Three

  I bent down, as if to tie non-existent shoe laces on my boots, and tried to take a peek at my pursuers. There were two of them, both squat and broad-shouldered. Dwarves? Gnomes?

  Gray cloaks concealed their bodies. I couldn't see their faces under the hoods. Then one of them jumped over a puddle, offering a glimpse of a black beard. They had to be dwarves. Or at least one of them was.

  That they were following someone was obvious even to me with my complete lack of spying experience. And they were following me. They kept behind me at an ever-constant distance. The moment I stopped, they did the same. As far as spies went, they behaved pretty strange. Either they were out to scare the living daylights out of me — and so far they had admittedly succeeded — or they were just as new to stalking as I was.

  Another question was, who were they? Shantarsky's henchmen? But how did he know? Had he really bribed someone in the office? Unlikely. Who would want to risk their job because of small fry like myself? Then again, if the price was right... I had little doubt that father and son Shantarsky wouldn't sleep until they wreaked their revenge on me. And the wizard I'd seen near the portal station — what if he hadn't been part of my paranoid imagination?

  But what if these two had nothing to do with Shantarsky? What then? What were they — street muggers? Or some black scavengers who thought me easy prey?

  I'd read the admins' warning. Apparently, had someone mugged me here, I'd have to go to the local law enforcement authorities who were conspicuous by their absence. Filing a complaint with the admins wouldn't work. This was gameplay. I'd strayed too far away from the starting locations already.

  Right. I had to pull myself together. Nothing had happened yet. I worked for Lady Mel which was a hefty argument in any dispute. In case of a physical assault I could always file a complaint with my employer. Not that it would amount to a lot: who would want to stick up for me? But as a threat, it might just work. At least I hoped so.

  I quickened my pace. I had to get to the tavern ASAP. At least there I wouldn't be alone. If push came to shove, I could summon some help. If things got worse, I could always ask Varn to accompany me to the portal station. For him it would be a quick way to make a few gold. But that was the worst-case scenario. I still had to work here — hopefully for a long time. I wasn't going to give in to paranoia.

  Having given myself this pep talk, I darted for the Boiling Pot Inn. Actually, talking about Varn... I had an idea. I should give it some thought.

  My change of pace must have thrown off my pursuers. When I finally opened the inn's door, I turned and looked back. The street was empty. I hoped they'd lost me. Good. I must have shaken them off.

  I entered the inn and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was packed. Almost all of the tables were already taken. Some of the players sported Steel Shirts' logos on their chests. Even though technically I wasn't part of the clan, I could still count on their support.

  On seeing me, Talina regretfully nodded at a table by the window. All the places by the fireplace were taken. The area around it was absolutely packed.

  I smiled gratefully and took the seat she'd pointed me to. She arrived almost straight away.

  "I'm sorry about this-" she began.

  I stopped her mid-sentence. "It's fine, thank you. You don't need to apologize. I'm very happy I got a seat at all. Besides, I'm not wet, courtesy of your brother. The tip he gave me was extremely handy."

  She smiled. "I'm happy to hear that. Your room is ready. Here's the key. It's number five."

  "Excellent, thank you. I'll have a hot drink and go upstairs."

  "Would you like some mulled wine?"

  "Perfect. Just what I need."

  Talina fluttered off to get my order.

  Oh. Mulled wine! I'd first tasted it in Dresden at a Christmas market. Sveta and I had spent all day roaming around the town. By the evening, we'd found ourselves embracing the funfair spirit. Lights galore, Christmas arches, tree decorations, pyramids and hand-carved figurines of smoking men...

  We had been drinking hot mulled wine and eating Christmas stollen packed with raisins and candied fruit. We were happy. Oh yes. A good day it had been. One of the best in my entire life.

  Soon my table was graced by a small clay mug filled with steaming burgundy liquid. The mug's side was decorated with a slice of lemon. I could guarantee that the wine was going to taste exactly like it had in Dresden. My subconscious would take care of it.

  I focused on the mug and immediately discovered a very touching detail, courtesy of Talina.

  Name: Mulled Wine

  Effect: every mouthful gives +40 to Energy

  Restriction: Only inside the Boiling Pot Inn.

  Not much, but so very sweet of her. Wish I'd had some of this on my first day in Mirror World.

  I was about to taste the spicy-smelling drink when the front door opened, letting in my two stocky pursuers. Gosh. Just when I thought I had nothing to worry about.

  I cast a quick look around. No one in the room had paid any attention to the newcomers. Talina must have popped out into the kitchen. All the patrons were busy eating and talking.

  I tensed, shrinking into my chair. I hadn't had time to lower my eyes though. The two "cloaks" had noticed me. Judging by the looks they exchanged, they must have recognized me.

  Stomping his steel boots across the room, one of the two headed in my direction. Trying not to betray my anxiety, I cast another look around. Some Steel Shirts' warriors sat three tables away from me. If I protested, would they help me?

  My pursuers were barely a few paces away. They'd removed their hoods. I could finally see their faces. Even though "face" wasn't the right word to describe one of them.

  I was right: he was indeed a dwarf. The other turned out to be a Dwand. What a strange combination. I already knew that these two races didn't
exactly get along. Then again, how could I be sure? It might have been true for Grinders but not for combat accounts. And judging by their levels, these two had to be combat types. Both were level 120.

  Wow. Admittedly I was flattered by the fact that Shantarsky might have sent his top fighters just to get me. If it had been him, of course.

  I took a screenshot and turned the video recorder on. This way I'd at least have some evidence. My right hand was going numb. Oh! I'd very nearly crumbled the clay mug to dust.

  I snatched my hand away — too quickly probably. I had to get a grip. Breathe in. Breathe out. No one should notice my anxiety. Like this. Good.

  The two stopped within arm's reach of my table. The dwarf's name was Saash while the gray-faced Dwand's sported Dan on his name tag. Strangely enough, their faces betrayed embarrassment. I expected to see just about anything: disdain, hatred, indifference or maybe even glee. But embarrassment?

  I decided to take the bull by the horns. "Listen, guys," I forced my voice to sound calm and confident. "I've no idea what you want from me. But I have to warn you that I work for Melorie, the Lady of Storms! Whatever you're up to, you'd better stay away from me. You don't need problems, do you?"

  Phew! I'd said it! I was bluffing, of course, but that was the way to do it. Problems, yeah right. As if the wife of the Steel Shirts' leader had nothing better to do with her time than run to my rescue. She didn't even know I existed.

  "Are you okay?" the Dwand asked, looking lost. "We just wanted to talk."

  "Really," the dwarf echoed. "No need to get so worked up."

  "So it's my fault now, is it? You tail me all across town and you're blaming me?"

  Surprisingly, the dwarf blushed crimson. His Dwand buddy, however, was quick on the draw.

  "So okay, sorry, we overdid it. We first wanted to follow you to wherever you were going. How can you talk in this rain?"

  "That's some faulty logic, young man," I said. "Hadn't it occurred to you that it might alarm me? This area isn't exactly welcoming to my types, you know. You could have come over and spoken to me."

  I'd called him young man for a reason. You couldn't fool me with a person's choice of avatar anymore. I'd already learned to tell a player's approximate age. My gaming experience had begun to show. These two must have been twenty at the most. They too must have realized they weren't dealing with a teenage student.

  The dwarf turned to his friend. "I told you!"

  "Okay, I'm sorry," he raised his hands in mock defeat. "I thought it was better that way."

  I didn't want to alienate them, otherwise I'd have told him which body part he must have been using to think with.

  Good. All clear. False alarm. Somehow I doubted that my spiel might have impressed anyone in the real world. There, I was a bespectacled nerd; here I was an Ennan complete with black eyes and beard. My char could look quite threatening.

  The feeling was new to me. People like myself have to fend off bullies on a virtually daily basis. And here the slightest pressure forced others into red-faced apologetic obedience. Heh! Wish I could borrow my Ennan for my daily bus ride! For a couple of days, not more. Shame my mug had failed to impress Slayer back in the Spider Grotto.

  Rustling her starched dress, Talina reappeared by my table. "Sir Olgerd? Is everything all right?"

  I glanced at my reluctant pursuers. "Perfectly fine, thank you. These young men are here to talk to me."

  She nodded, then turned to them, "What will you drink?"

  "Two mulled wines," the dwarf removed his soaked cloak and sat opposite me. The Dwand followed suit.

  Once Talina had fluttered away to fetch their orders, I said, "Let's get down to business. What is it you two want from me?"

  The Dwand wasn't the type to beat around the bush, either. "We'd like to hire you."

  I'd expected anything but that. "Excuse me?"

  The dwarf gave his partner a nudge with his elbow. "We really should introduce ourselves. My name's Sasha and this is my brother Dennis. You know our nicknames already. We're really sorry. That wasn't the way to do it. We should have approached you straight away. That would have been more acceptable."

  The Dwand tried to say something but the dwarf gave him another nudge, pinning his brother down with a meaningful glare.

  How interesting. My first impression had been that Dan was the boss but now I wasn't so sure. Another interesting thing about them was that they had turned out to be brothers. I wouldn't have thought so. A dwarf and a Rock Dwand. Brothers. Then again, what did it matter? My Mirror World experience must have already left its mark. I was beginning to think in gaming terms.

  I shrugged. "Apologies accepted. You can spit it out now."

  The dwarf nodded his gratitude. "I won't be long. It's a quest. My brother and I, we accepted it when we were still in our 70s. We thought one day we might do it but it didn't work out that way. And this particular quest is very important for our Reputation with the House of Stone Lotus."

  "We've been leveling this Rep for ages," Dan butted in. "And now this wretched quest stalls the whole picture."

  "What have I got to do with it?"

  "You'll see in a minute. Our task is to get ten hearts of the Swamp Kardach. That's twenty between the two of us."

  "Listen, guys, in case you didn't notice, I'm only a Grinder."

  The Dwand chuckled. "If you were, we wouldn't have come to you."

  "Nobody's asking you to fight," his brother added. "We're quite capable of smoking the Kardachs ourselves. They're only level 80. A couple of minutes' work. What we need is a mine digger."

  "Young people, the more we talk the less I understand."

  "Our quest is in fact tied to your profession," the dwarf hurried to explain. "The scheme is simple. We smoke the Kardach and you pick up his heart."

  "Why me?"

  "Because his heart is made of stone. Of Swamp Ammolite, to be precise. And as you must have already guessed, one has to be at least an Experienced Mine Digger in order to pick it up."

  I paused, taking in the information. Seeing this, the dwarf reduced himself to begging,

  "We understand you're busy. You have a job and all that. It's just that when we saw you next to that magic shop... unaccompanied, without a clan logo... we couldn't believe our luck. That's why we decided to watch you for a while. Just in case. We were afraid of getting into trouble."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You've heard us," the dwarf said. "Clans don't approve of their workers moonlighting on the side. That's why we thought..."

  "Ah yes, yes, right, of course," I pretended I knew what he was talking about. "Now I see. No problem there. Let's sum it up. As far as I understand, you have a quest to kill certain mobs and retrieve their hearts. The problem is, the only person who can pick them up is a Mine Digger, Experienced or above. Is that correct?"

  The Dwand nodded. "I couldn't have said better myself."

  "Good," I said. "Now allow me to elaborate a little. If you're sitting here trying to talk me into it, I presume you can't get those hearts at auction."

  "We can't," the dwarf patiently explained. "They're non-drop. Their owner can't pass them on to anybody else. That's the whole thing. Basically, the job is simple. All you need to do is follow us into the instance and pick up the hearts."

  "Wait a sec," I interrupted. "What do you mean, follow you into the instance? I'm a Grinder, aren't I?"

  "How long have you been in the game?" Dan the Dwand sounded amazed. "Have you ever mopped up an instance as part of a raid?"

  I shook my head.

  "I see," Dan said. "You see, when a quest is partially tied to a Profession, raiders can accept Grinders into the group. Herbalists, fishermen, you know what I mean. Any kind."

  "And what if they don't join the group?"

  "Forget it. A quest resource is only available to group members. A lone Grinder just won't see it. He needs to join first. Your job is to pick up the hearts and hand them over to us."

  I paused,
thinking. "Oh. That's clever."

  "We know how busy you are," the dwarf repeated. "Why would you bother? But we can pay you well. Say, ten gold per heart, how about that? Naturally, we'll get you buffed to the teeth. Dan has some wicked incenses. It's on us."

  The Dwand smiled. "All you need to do is sit there in the shade and twiddle your thumbs. Every once in a while you hand us a heart, that's it. It's only for a couple of hours. Come on, say you can do it."

  "But why me?"

  Dan grinned. "Do you see any available Mine Diggers of your level here? We should be kissing Mister Random's feet for sending you our way."

  "To prevent any doubts on your part," the dwarf kept applying pressure, "allow me to send you a copy of the quest. Just so, you know, that you don't think we're trying to take you for a ride. It's two hundred gold, nothing to sniff at."

  I shrugged and agreed. Let them send their letter. "I need to think about it."

  The Dwand opened his mouth to speak. The Dwarf buried an elbow in his ribs — properly this time, judging by his brother's beached-fish expression.

  "Absolutely," the Dwarf said, smiling. "We understand you're new to this."

  I nodded my appreciation and began reading. What a shame the game had no Internet access. I really needed to look into it. Could it be a trap? I cast a furtive glance at the two brothers, studying their faces. No. Too simple for Shantarsky. Also, judging by the way the quest was worded, everything seemed hunky dory. I couldn't smell a rat.

  What was my problem, then? Of course, had I had access to the Internet's collective wisdom, I might have found it easier to weigh up all the pros and cons. But now... the only possible catch might be the price they put on my participation. This I found very easy to believe. They had probably guessed that I couldn't log out. I really had to check out a few forums before making this kind of decision. Unfortunately, for the next month I couldn't afford the luxury of the Internet.

  Never mind. I'd have to work with what I had. Let's begin with the dwarf. Judging by his heavy armor, he must have been what they called a tank. He must have had some monstrous shield and poleaxe in that bag of his. Let's have a look.