A large ship of a sleek predatory design. A crimson sail. A bow figure in the shape of a water dragon. A long bronze battering ram bashes through the waves. Lots of armed people on the upper deck. Mostly bowmen. Among the one hundred fifty NPC soldiers ready for battle, twelve undying stand out. They are covered head to toe in luxurious "hand-to-hand" armor. A gracious light-haired elven bowwoman wearing a set of miniature plates that don’t exactly constitute armor, but still provide more coverage than a swimsuit. Looking at it made me mentally quip, "these three tiny flaps are sure to protect me." A severe-looking earth mage. An even more severe-looking and ghoulish necromancer. And a whole gang of pets of the most outlandish appearances — from mummies enshrouded in rotting bandages and decaying zombies to flittering brightly-colored birds and a tall stone golem.
After thanking VIXEN for her help and giving the wyvern an affectionate pat on the neck, I started thinking. The markers were golden in color. I remembered the vice-president of the Boundless Realm Corporation had told me about that not so very long ago — this was precisely how those hunting my wyvern would be depicted. So then, this wasn't some random night-time encounter. They really had tracked me down. And that was almost certainly with the aid of the Dryad Dancer. Ugh, if Angelica Wayward crossed my path now, I'd knock her head off without considering the consequences!
But I'd deal with the guileful uninvited passenger later, if my big-eared goblin survived this night battle. For now, the most important mission was to counter this massive horde before they executed the boarding operation they were so clearly prepared for. I didn't soothe myself with pointless illusions, and understood perfectly that all my orc pirates wouldn't hold out even five minutes against twelve undying and their massive number of pets. And that wasn't considering the at least three hundred crewmembers on the trireme, who would also take action in the battle.
Help was needed immediately! I exited Boundless Realm and, throwing back the lid of my virtual reality capsule, reached for the phone lying next to me. As a matter of fact, in the game settings, there was a possibility to make calls to outside numbers directly from inside Boundless Realm. But that was a paid and fairly expensive function. Although the developers had introduced it long ago on player request, they hadn't wanted too many people to use it. Sometimes, it really was critically important to get in touch with someone. For example, a group leader just died in battle. Their groupmates would want to know how long they’d be gone and where to expect them back, but wouldn’t have the time to leave the game to find that out. So, some gamers were willing to pay very serious money to make such a call. But the leadership of the Boundless Realm Corporation didn't want to especially promote that feature, given that making a call out of game would immediately take a person out of their state of immersion, depriving the virtual world of its reality.
I was worried that it would take a long time to wake Val up. She might not even have answered the phone at all, worn out after the long and nerve-wracking day, but my sister answered almost immediately.
"Not sleeping?" I guessed, and my sister didn't deny it.
"Yeah, me and Kira are up in the living room. Even though it's late, for some reason, neither of us want to sleep. We're watching a teary melodrama on the big screen. The kind you normally shut off right away. We're eating crackers with real raspberry jam, drinking tea and, of course, chatting. Did you know that Kira has her own woman's clothing store? She showed me her internet catalog and even ordered a few stylish numbers for me!"
"Val, of course that is great, but I need your help right now! There's a ship with a dozen players and a bunch of aggressive bots quickly catching up to White Shark."
A very inappropriate phrase tore itself from Valeria's lips, with a meaning close to "boss, the jig is up!" But I didn't tell my sister off for her sharp tongue this time, just asked her to hurry up.
"Timothy, can Kira watch the screen when I play? She says that she's wanted to try out Boundless Realm for a long time but, for no good reason, she just never got off her butt to download and install the game on her home computer."
Generally, I didn't want random people watching my playing and seeing all the hidden details. But Kira? Was it really worth arguing over this point with the woman who owned the apartment my sister and I lived in? What bad could come of the fact that Kira saw things she had already known about for some time? And also, to be honest, I was interested in getting comments on my playing later from the highly-experienced tester. To put it briefly, I waved my hand and let her do it.
So then, I would have help from the wood nymph. Now,I had to decideif it was worth calling Leon? On the one hand, the last events connected with the Dryad Dancer did no favors to my image of the man. On the other, though... in the Ogre Fortifier's place, I would be offended if I wasn't called in for such an interesting and important battle, directly affecting the safety of my character. After all, in the case of defeat and the sinking of White Shark, both Leon’s and Veronica's characters would go down to the sea floor with the ship, and the first things they'd see tomorrow after loading up Boundless Realm would be death from drowning or the teeth of a fearsome sea creature. After that would follow a character death message and something saying they'd have to wait an hour to respawn at the stone.
In the end, I took the decision to call Leon, internally worrying about the forthcoming difficult conversation on his flame and her subversive tactics on the bireme. But... "the number you've called has been disconnected," is all I heard when calling the former construction worker. I had no way of obtaining the Ogre Fortifier's help in the upcoming battle. I didn't even bother Max Sochnier — he was on Tipsy Gannet, which was still in the bay on the Island of the Wanton Widow, more than four hundred kilometers away from us, so the Naiad Trader had no way of helping me.
So then, only my sister and I against twelve other players...
I lowered the lid of my virtual reality capsule and, a few seconds later, opened my eyes on the upper deck of White Shark. One step from me was Valerianna Quickfoot, alarmed and clearly bewildered as she stared into the distance.
"Amra, is your respawn point far?" was the first thing the wood nymph asked me, and that question was not at all to my liking — it seemed my sister didn't believe victory was possible.
I opened the game settings and saw that, in the case of death, my big-eared goblin would be reborn on the Island of the Wanton Widow. So then, it wasn't for nothing that I dragged myself up to the top of that hill in the rain at night to the respawn stone. Valerianna heard my reply and continued her thought:
"I don't have a wyvern amulet, so your valuable mount won't drop if I send you to respawn. You'll just lose some of your experience and pop up on the Island of the Wanton Widow. And from there, you can run off to the Tipsy Gannet. How is that not a way out?"
I cringed in dissatisfaction.
"Last night, Max Sochnier told me that the island was under thick maritime blockade. So that's no way out. I don't consider the situation entirely hopeless, though. Our bireme is no slower than that trireme, and we have the long-distance catapult..."
"Yeah, but it's installed on the bow of the ship and cannot shoot backwards," my sister finished my sentence.
What?! I walked over to our weapon and made visually sure that the mount was well screwed into the deck. Just as Val said, the turning mechanism was capable of changing the direction of the catapult by fifteen to twenty degrees left or right, but one hundred eighty degrees was out of the question. It finally dawned on me that shooting at pursuers who were already at our stern would ultimately be impossible. And they were still gradually gaining on us, despite the fact that our orc pirates were really laying into the oars.
"How can they see us?" my sister asked in surprise. "We can only see them because of the glowing horizon at their backs. But to them, we are in the direction of the dark, cloudy skies and so would have a much farther rendering distance on their mini-maps. There aren't any lights on board. I checked right away. Nevertheless, a li
ttle while later, they accurately copied our slight turn to the left!"
I told her about the ritual the Dryad Dancer had performed with the blood. Valerianna winced and agreed that it really was a convenient and reliable method of searching for a ship in the dark, if one of them had a pet fish swimming after the trail of blood and telling the master where to go.
"But here, it doesn't look like it's all just blood. For a long time, I've been seeing a butterfly on the edge of my mini-map flickering in and out of view behind us. So then what, I wonder, is this lone butterfly doing over the night sea? I do not know which of the rituals performed by the Dryad Dancer could explain this, but our pirate ship smells thickly of perfumes and lotions. The insect has a good sense of smell, so it could be following us that way, as if being led by a leash. I'll get rid of it now."
Next to the forest nymph, as if at the beck of her magic wand, there appeared a buzzing swarm of hornets. Valeria pointed toward the flying insect in the distance and her deadly insects dashed off into the night. Not even a minute later, a red beacon was lit over the head of Valerianna Quickfoot, meaning she was now a criminal.
"Well, I guess I was right — it wasn't just an insect, but somebody's pet," the wood nymph said, looking unhappily at the red marker over her head. "But, Tim, this didn't occur to me. Now, the pursuers have no need for pets — such a bright spotlight will be visible from afar. I've spoiled everything..."
"Go down into the cabin for now," I suggested to my sister, and Valeria hurried to get off the deck.
Just after my sister went away, the first mate came up to me and, after nodding at the easily visible silhouette of the trireme, commented:
"A military ship of the Kingdom of Lars. I once had to spend six months as an oarsman on such a trireme. It was a frightening time. Three hundred oarsmen chained to their oars, plus another fifty slaves, who regularly come to sub in for the undernourished, ill or utterly exhausted. If you were feeling unwell, you had a week to get better or that was it. Overboard for shark bait. No need for hungry mouths if they aren't gonna work. Why I'm saying this, captain, is that they will not stop following us, and sooner or later, they will catch us."
"And what do you suggest, Ziabash?" I inquired, having a perfect understanding that my first mate wasn't merely trying to strike up conversation.
"I see two ways out, captain. For now, while our oarsmen still have life, and there's still a good distance, we could turn to that cliff shore over there," Ziabash Hardy said, pointing at a strip of darkness in the north, barely distinct from the horizon. "The shore there is, of course, horrible, and we only have one dinghy left, but if we still manage to come ashore, all the cliffs and hills there are dug through with subterranean tunnels like a moldering tree full of termites, but worse. That's the beginning of Rovaan-Dum — the mountainous abode of the dwarves, where the wee subterranean folk has lived for millennia. They say that you can get through underground from the ocean all the way to the Great Desert. It's probably all lies. But I can say for certain that we could escape into the subterranean tunnels of Rovaan-Dum and evade our pursuers. In our crew, we have a dwarf mechanic, Gnum Spiteful. He's a child of these lands and could perhaps be of some help."
My face lit up. There was a way to run, and that was good. But for me, leaving into the subterranean meant abandoning the White Shark and failing a mission given to me by the vice president of the Boundless Realm Corporation herself.
"In that case, we'd have to abandon a good ship, and also the crew — I can hardly believe the subterranean inhabitants would agree to allow two hundred cutthroats into their homes, after all. And the second option?"
"Turn White Shark around and try to board!" Ziabash Hardy stated decisively.
After seeing the incomprehension on my face, the experienced pirate hurried to continue:
"As a matter of fact, it isn't all so hopeless, captain. The crew on such a trireme will have one hundred warriors, one hundred thirty at most. Sure, they have well-trained royal soldiers and experienced sailors, but we have more sabers. What's more, if we can get down to the lower decks of the trireme, we'll be able to free their slaves. People shanghaied into service rarely learn to make peace with their fate, so many will join our side if we promise them liberty. As a matter of fact, I once gained my freedom from slavery the very same way — soldiers from a neighboring kingdom broke onto the oar deck, killed the overseers and declared that they would free all slaves that helped in the battle. At that time, many of the oarsmen took up the call. I was among them. To be honest, I was the only volunteer to survive that bloody skirmish. That's actually how I earned the nickname Hardy."
I didn't tell the first mate that his plan was absolutely unrealistic. And it was. The twelve undying would cut down half the crew of White Shark before the ships even got close enough to board. I just looked at the catapult sitting pointlessly on the bow of the bireme.
"Alright, Ziabash. We need around an hour to get ready, so don't let the oarsmen reduce speed. In that time, we need to arm the crew, and mount more wooden shields on the bow of the ship so the catapult firing unit and our boarding team don't get shot to pieces by the bowmen. I heard you bought a barrel of rum in port to replace the empty one. Now is the very time to roll it on deck. Call the shaman to my chambers — I've got a job that's just up his alley. And order this horrible trade-ship flag exchanged out for our black banner with the white shark! In one hour’s time, we fight!"
Foreman Skill increased to level 19!
* * *
The hour I asked for wasn't just to mount shields on the ship. I also wanted to use the time to figure out a way of safeguarding the wyvern-controlling medallion. I had a simple idea: you cannot lose that which you do not have. If my big-eared goblin did not have the valuable medallion when dying (considering the situation, such an outcome looked entirely possible), then nothing would drop. No, I wasn't preparing to throw such a valuable object overboard — that might be seen by the corporation as an attempt to subvert the mass event. Also, VIXEN might just lose all connection with me and fly away for good.
But giving the medallion to one of my pets for a short time... Well, it was never written in the rules of the hunt that the person in control of the wyvern had to be carrying the object in their bag or wearing it on their person. Perhaps, there was no room in my inventory. And that really was close to the truth. I already had Irek and Yunna carrying some of my things. Who could tell me I wasn't allowed to use my companions' slots to store items? From there, the idea is easy to understand — if the NPC pet is killed a bit before its master, it will respawn at the same time as its owner in a safe place, and with all the valuable objects in its inventory.
"Irek, come over here. I've got something for you," I called the goblin boy over. "Open your bag!"
SYSTEM ERROR!
The inventory of NPC $FA1276-В00133 is overfilled
Error code #LOC/ER-009875
This message has been sent to Boundless Realm tech support
We apologize for the possible inconvenience
I tried to place the bronze medallion in Irek's backpack, but it fell onto the floor. Although there was room in the goblin boy's backpack, I couldn't place the quest item inside it. I couldn't put the medallion around the NPC boy's neck either. Understandable... I lifted the valuable object and left the upper deck in search of my winged mount. VIXEN was sleeping on the boards next to the catapult, rolled up into a ball like a kitten. I embraced my mount by the neck and attached the medallion to the wyvern.
LOGIC ERROR!
Infinite recursion
NPC $FF0А11-СВ0223 is waiting for external commands originating from its own logic
Error code #LOC/ER-009955
This message has been sent to Boundless Realm tech support
We apologize for the possible inconvenience
Despite the logic error, I did manage to clasp the necklace onto VIXEN. Got it! It worked! Now, the upcoming battle with a whole dozen undying seemed more like an amuse
ment park ride — scary and dangerous at first glance, but on a deeper level, you know nothing is going to happen. If I died, I risked only losing some experience, but not my unique winged mount.
All the same, I didn't want to merely take part in the sea battle. I wanted to win. To do that, I called Shaman Ghuu over and explained the essence of the mission:
"We're going to turn around and head toward the enemy. We'll shoot first from the bow catapult, taking advantage of its high range in comparison with normal arrows and crossbows. There won't be time to reload the catapult, though. Our ships will reach one another before we'll be able to get the arm pulled back again. We'll only have one chance to shoot, and we need to put all our rage and anger into it, doing as much damage as possible. We won't just load one bomb into the catapult bucket, but ten or maybe even twenty. However many fit. The bombs will be tied together with rope, so they will form a huge flaming mass as the net spreads out in flight, hopefully catching on the trireme's rigging — the mast, the sail, the boom — and fire will rain down from the deck."
The orc shaman, having imagined the picture, gave a nod of approval and gnashed his fangs into a smile.
"Captain Amra, normal fire won't be enough. We should also imbue our bombs with death magic. I can charm any and all objects, up to and including those bomb pots. The fire will nourish itself with the life force of the dead and suck the energy from the living, burning stronger and stronger with every dead victim!"
"These were the very words I was hoping to hear from you, shaman! We need to put as much ghastly magic into this single shot as possible, and death magic is an excellent choice! But that isn't all I wanted. The fire these bombs make is already quite hard to put out with water, but the wood nymph also said that she could place a spell from her water magic arsenal on it. That way, she said, the fire not only won't go out, if they try to extinguish it, it will only burn stronger. I want you to help Valerianna charm the bombs with this sophisticated magic! And call all the gods and demons of Boundless Realm to your aid. We simply cannot afford to fail!"
Stay on the Wing Page 22
