"Lots of things," Dennis replied, munching on an apple.
"It's like with all Reps," Sasha began to explain. "Blessings from the House elders, access to their shop, unique quests..."
"I see," I nodded. "And this quest we're doing now, what kind of reward are you getting for it? Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to double-check you. I'm perfectly happy with the price you put on my humble services. I'm just curious."
"Don't say that," Sasha laughed. "We would never have thought that of you."
"In actual fact," Borin said, "asking questions is perfectly normal in the Glasshouse. The game has too many fine points. Sometimes it takes you a day or two to work something out."
"Absolutely," Dennis agreed. "You open a guidebook to look something up and before you know it the day is gone."
Sasha chuckled. "That's provided there's a guidebook to look it up in. The real problems start when there are none. Then you have to revert to good old trial and error."
"You can say that again!" Borin added. "Sometimes you just keep on leveling as if nothing happened and then there's some bastard problem creeping out of the woodwork and you have to sort it out."
Everyone grinned their understanding. Even the girl allowed herself a barely perceptible nod.
As we spoke, we hadn't even noticed our break time passing. My new friends discussed the game. How they'd started out. How difficult it was to get good gear. Basically, talking shop. I just sat there listening and making mental notes, asking occasional probing questions.
Dennis was the first to come round. He perked up and glanced at the swamp. "It's no good us sitting here. Time to earn ourselves some glory. The mobs are almost climbing out onto the bank."
"Exactly," Sasha sprang from his seat. "I'm gonna pull one. Ready?"
We nodded in synch. The dwarf readied his poleaxe and, hiding behind a full-height shield, trotted toward the swamp. The others waited a few more seconds and then followed, drawing their weapons and readying their combat spells. The hunt was back on!
While the group was busy smoking yet another monster, I got thinking. I'd known it before and I knew it now: sooner or later I'd have to look for allies. I wouldn't be able to tackle Pierrot's questionable "legacy" all on my own. If even these guys were wary of venturing into No-Man's Lands all on their own, who was I to do so? Although I'd decided a long time ago that I would go there one day — and not just go but venture into the farthest and least explored areas.
And as for searching for allies... I knew of course that their motivation was key. In other words, I needed to find others like myself. Which excluded Sasha and Dennis from the list. They were in it for the game. Besides, what did I know about them? Nothing. Just a random meeting. Ditto for the other group members.
True, purely hypothetically our cooperation came with a lot of pros. The kids were useful to me — and I was useful to them. Together we might do a lot.
Now the cons. That's where it got difficult. I might have to tell them the truth. Not the whole truth, of course, but at least some of it. Everything's good in moderation, heh.
I didn't even like the thought of it.
Time was another issue. Or the lack thereof. Any cooperation should be mutually beneficial. Allies have to be nurtured, if you know what I mean. Both of us would have to invest time in solving the partner's problems. Combining our goals would have been even better but that too required time and effort.
Plenty of cons, not to even mention the main one: trust. Who were these people? What were they like? I knew nothing about them. All right, so we've had a nice conversation about the game but it wasn't good enough reason to hand them the keys to my home. Trust: how did people develop it? Just like that? Oh, no. You had to earn it — earn it with your actions. You had to put each other to the test. You needed to develop loyalty.
Admittedly I liked them even though our friendship had got off on the wrong foot. So it looked like I'd come to a decision. We'd stay friends. They might ask me to do another quest with them. But not more.
That was it, then. I heaved a sigh and mechanically rearranged the non-existing glasses. I already felt much better.
Now I could finally check the info portal. No rush. Now... brown coal... brown coal... let's see what's so special about it.
I clicked a link. The next moment I was looking at the House of Stone Lotus official page. The information was minimal. I already knew that upon reaching level 10 every player could commit to a particular NPC Clan, House or Tribe.
Lots of names: it would have taken me a month of Sundays to check them all out. This was what players called a main Reputation. Naturally, you didn't have to level only one Rep, provided you had enough time, motivation and money. The rule was, your main Reputation shouldn't clash with the secondary ones. Admittedly, the admins didn't bother to warn players about pitfalls like those. Now why wasn't I surprised? Had they ever warned me against anything? Players were supposed to progress by trial and error.
The info portal contained quite a few formal letters from players to the game developers trying to appeal to their consciences. All of which were pointless. Complaints like those remained unanswered — undeleted even. That was the admins' way to make their point. The bulk of players realized that fewer system warnings made for a more realistic gameplay.
Surely you wouldn't like it if you invested all your time, money and effort into two Reputations of more, only to discover later that they were in fact incompatible. But that was what the world's story was for: its history, its media, its legends and even Internet guides, after all. The latter actually advised players to start by leveling their main Reputation first instead of spreading themselves thin. It could backfire.
One glance at the Stone Lotus Reputation chart was enough for me to realize what my fellow team members were after.
Firstly, like all other Reputation rankings, these too had Orders. Five of them. The more important the Order, the better access a player had to the House's store. And that store was something, I tell you. It had some very special spells as well as armor, weapons and elixirs. If you had the Order of Friendship (second in importance) you could even get a pet summoning charm. Judging by the fact that none of the four team members used pets to smoke mobs, apparently their Reputations left a lot to be desired.
Only now, looking into the finer details of other people's Reputations, did I realize how easy Pierrot had made it for me. I'd gotten my little Grison without even trying — and with my zero level, too! I seemed to be the only Grinder with his own pet. Imagine everyone's surprise when they saw someone like me owning a unique beastie like that! Oh no, better keep it under wraps for the time being.
As for the top Order in the ranking — the Order of Veneration — its proud owners had the right to obtain a summoning charm for a combat mount. The Stone Lotus mounts were called Long-Tailed Jandai. Even without checking their characteristics I knew I could use a critter like that. This was more or less clear.
But how about Brown Coal? Let's have a look! Yes... ah... I see. Now I understood Sasha's longing look as he'd eyed the item. The game developers had created an alternative Reputation-leveling system for the more impatient players. I wouldn't be surprised if every NPC clan had a similar system. The trick? You had the choice: either to perform boring tasks for a few meager Rep points, or you could bring them a rare resource. If you wanted an Order, you could fetch a certain quantity of Brown Coal. I did a quick calculation. To complete Reputation, I would need to collect fifteen hundred lumps of coal.
Oh. Without a Master Digger, these kids could spend their entire lives leveling. Gradually I began to realize the importance of my skill. And this was some petty Reputation building! Not to even mention joining a serious raid.
If I was correct, then I had enough to offer any potential allies. All I had to do was find suitable people for the part.
Chapter Five
Just as Varn had predicted, closer to the night the weather improved somewhat, if a nasty drizzle could
pass for an improvement. Still, admittedly it was better compared to last night and this morning.
The elemental bonuses performed well. My gear hadn't lost a single Durability point. I only had Varn to thank for that. I really needed to buy him a drink or whatever they bought each other here.
In the morning, I worked in the local emerald fields. What can I say? Two words: silence and desolation. This definitely wasn't the most popular location with Mine Diggers.
I'd popped into the office before work, with zero results. So I headed to work with a clear conscience and registered myself directly in the mine.
Just as the wizard shop vendor had warned me, the local mines were damp — but only the top levels. The omnipresent humidity didn't reach the lower shafts. Funny: I used to like rain and would never have thought that my weather preferences might change literally overnight.
Meeting my daily quota left me unusually tired. I returned to the inn feeling out of sorts. The dinner cheered me up though. Talina served a meat stew — and its taste reminded me of my life with my parents and my Mom's cooking. No idea how the game developers did it, and I didn't want to know either. I liked it, that was the main thing.
When I was finally given the caravan's departure time, I cheered up even more — although it might have been the mulled wine.
Departure was at 6 p.m. I had my dinner, refreshed myself a little and decided to arrive at the meeting point early in order to settle in.
The sight of the armored carts left me speechless. The enormous crate-like wagons resembled the armored train cars I'd seen in old movies. Their Defense stats were going off the scale. I couldn't even imagine a monster capable of peeling off this kind of armor.
Talking about monsters. Each wagon had all sorts of draught animals harnessed to them. A whole menagerie! One was pulled by four enormous black horses, tall and broad-chested, with powerful legs and backs. Truly monstrous muscles rippled under their thick hides. All the horses were level 140. Not bad.
Apart from horses, they also had buffalos, reindeer, elk and dinosaurs. They pulled their respective wagons in twos, threes and fours.
The front wagon was especially eye-catching. I was a total newb in caravanning business but as I understood the local terrain, the first one had to be the strongest. And it definitely looked that way.
A giant beast was harnessed to the front wagon. The game designers had made it a compilation of several animals; still, the long forking horn on its nose, the thick trunk-like legs and its massive gray bulk reminded me of a rhinoceros.
Level 165. Its name was appropriate: The Hard-Horned Andagar. Oh, yes. None of the Wasteland mobs was strong enough to tackle this beastie. I could see that the Guiding Eyes had invested well into their little enterprise. I could only guess how much this animal might have cost, complete with wagon. Add to it a high-level Riding skill. These guys knew what they were doing.
"So how do you find my Kosma?"
I turned to the voice — cheerful and wheezy. A gnome stood but two paces away from me. Nickname: Uncle Vanya. Level 145. His characteristics were hidden. Clad in heavy green armor, full set — which meant he had all the bonuses that went with it. In other words, he was well protected but didn't splurge on himself, preferring to invest in his animal instead. Which, I began to understand, was a costly pastime.
"What can I say? He's beautiful," I replied in all honesty.
The gnome grinned, pleased. His gray beard and mustache stood on end. "Everybody likes my Kosma," he nodded, giving the beast a hearty slap on his massive armored side. "My breadwinner."
The gigantic rhino ignored the slapping and continued to chew on something.
"I can imagine him in battle," I said.
"Well, he's not really battle-geared, is he? My Kosma is a regular draught animal, what common folk call a hauler. To go into battle, you need a special combat mount. Because mobs, they ignore haulers as long as the owner is alive. A draught pet can't pull aggro to itself. They don't fight. But in a way you're right. They can be quite useful. They can absorb some of the damage. They can heal. And share some of their protection with you. Still he's no warrior so I don't expect miracles. In battle you can only count on yourself. But a combat mount, that's different! Even though they're not easy to come by, as you well know."
"And how about his armor?" I asked.
"The haulers' armor increases their Strength, Stamina and Capacity, among other things. But I repeat, it can only increase a pet's draught characteristics. Which are definitely my Kosma's forte."
"I see," I said. "So he's a bit like a giant tank with a sawn-off gun which is adapted to be used as a draught horse."
Uncle Vanya chuckled. "Not really. If I can extend your metaphor, my Kosma has never been a tank nor an armored vehicle. He was born a hauler."
"I think I begin to understand. Is there a chance for me to get a similar creature?"
"An Andagar? I don't think so. I won mine last year in an event. They only had fifty of them in the draw. I still can't believe my luck. With your account type you can only have a draught animal if your profession requires one. For instance, if you're a farmer or a coachman like myself. Lots of professions, I can't remember them all. Had you had a Bronze plan, then yes, starting level 15 they have a draught animal quest available."
"I see," I repeated. "But zero accounts can still level up Riding, can't they?"
"They can indeed," the gnome nodded. "No problem there provided the money is right."
"Okay. I'm sorry to bother you. I just like your Kosma very much."
The gnome slapped the beast's giant armored flank again. "It's all right. We're waiting anyway. Time goes faster with a nice chat. And as for my beastie... it may look cool now that it's fully grown and strong. But first you need to raise him; you need to feed and heal him, even play with him. Can you believe I read him bedtime stories? You also need some place to keep him. That's where he respawns if, God forbid, he dies in battle. Draught animals are unsummonable. They don't come with a summoning charm like combat mounts or other pets. I'm not going to complain though. Once the worst is over, your beastie starts to pay for itself. He makes me enough for my bread and butter and then something on top!"
Suddenly he zoned out — apparently receiving a message. "I'm sorry but I have to leave you," he said once he'd finally come back to life. "The caravan needs me. It's been a pleasure."
"Likewise," I nodded as I watched him leave for the far end of the caravan.
While I'd been gawking at wagons tut-tutting at the sight of all the amazing beasts, other passengers had begun to gather by the gates. And I used to think that this was a one-horse town! Judging by the number of passengers, the caravanners were doing very well indeed.
The bulk of the players were low-level, including a few Grinders like myself. The Citadel seemed to be popular among quest-giving NPCs assigning tasks like delivering letters or fetching items. There's apparently no limit to stupid assignments like those.
I could easily tell those of the passengers who'd only planned "to stay overnight". They wore cheap disposable cloaks. They cast studying glances at me, probably thinking I was a local. Of course: the rain kept falling and this midget (i.e. yours truly) kept walking around without taking the slightest notice of the weather.
I could understand them. What was the point in investing in costly elemental protection when there were cheap single-use items available? But as I'd already learned, it was better to invest well once than later repent at my leisure. Especially considering that I'd gotten my money back mere hours after having spent it.
I'd really enjoyed the raid last night. I'd gained some very useful experience.
Once we'd collected all the hearts there'd been to pick up, we'd parted good friends. Even the silent girl archer had condescended to a brief thank-you. Strange creature. Then again, it was none of my business. It takes all sorts.
Finally, Varn announced our boarding time: quarter past six. We had to wait for some less punctual players.
Varn's grim glare followed them as they boarded their wagons. As far as I understood from the agreement I'd signed, the Guiding Eyes valued punctuality above everything else. The caravan's route passing monsters' lairs had long been calculated. Had the tardy players lingered for more than a half-hour, the caravan would have left without them. Varn wouldn't have allowed his men and his other clients to walk into the mobs' aggro zone because of a few irresponsible newbs.
The inside of the wagons was vaguely reminiscent of subway trains. Vaguely being the operative word. No idea why I'd thought that. Two rows of wooden double-seat benches were separated by a narrow aisle. Oil lamps burned under the ceiling. Luggage shelves lined the walls overhead. The resemblance ended there. Instead of windows, narrow gun slits were cut in the wagon's sides. The floor was strewn with straw. Apparently this was part of the gameplay: everything had to look as realistic as possible.
The cheerful voice of the approaching Uncle Vanya distracted me from further inspection.
"So, would you like to sit with me? Or would you rather sweat here with the rest?"
I grinned. "Sure I'll sit with you. If you don't mind, that is."
"Good," the gnome grinned back. "Come on, then. We'll have to spend almost an hour staring at the road. Boring! This way we can at least talk."
His cab was in the front of the wagon. It was dry and comfortable. The view from the small front windows was much better than from the passenger seats. Uncle Vanya seated me on a soft cushion and climbed in next to me.
He whistled and pulled the reins. Kosma lazily raised his head and effortlessly moved off. The wagon pulled away surprisingly smoothly. I liked it! This was a great way to travel, provided you weren't in a hurry.
I leaned out of the window to take a look back. All the other wagons were falling in behind us.
The gnome whooped a cough and sat back wearily. Silence fell.
"How are things over there?" I asked finally, nodding in the direction of the Citadel.
The gnome buried his hand in his gray beard and coughed again. "Depends. I'd say they're never left alone. If it's not some gory event courtesy of the admins, it's the Darkies craving their scalps. It can get pretty busy. I'm not asking you what you left there, it's none of my business. But I do suggest you grow a spare pair of eyes in the back of your head."
The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) Page 6
