Clans War

by Mahanenko, Vasily

  “It was just a test run. We weren’t planning on killing anyone. We needed to see what was inside.”

  “Judging by your face there’s something unusual in there. Don’t keep me in suspense. Out with it.”

  “We can’t use ordinary methods of illumination in the Tomb. Neither torches, nor magic lanterns, nor fluorescent moss work in it. No one can see anything. The Tomb is completely dark. The floor is made of stone but we couldn’t feel any walls, as if we were in an open space. One of the Rogues crawled ahead but a slab fell on him, killing him instantly. We lost a second Rogue to a pendulum that knocked him into an abyss — it’s looking like the first level is a stone labyrinth. Both Rogues lost a level upon dying.”

  “WHAT?!”

  “When you enter the Tomb, you get a notification that it’s a different kind of Dungeon. Each death costs the player a level. But only within the Tomb — as soon as the player exits to Barliona, he’s back at the level he entered at.”

  “And if he reenters again, the level goes to what it was in the Tomb,” I guessed.

  “That’s why I was in my Siren form when you summoned me. There are a ton of pendulums in the Tomb. They’re constantly threatening to knock you off. My raid party held on to my tail while I crawled ahead, feeling the way. But that’s not even the main thing. Sooner or later we managed to sketch a map of the Dungeon — we got the newbies who don’t care about levels so much to do the work. We promised to level them up out in Barliona in exchange. The main thing is that the Tomb’s floor is constantly shifting. Changing. And so are the pendulums and the falling slabs. It’s a really horrible labyrinth. I have no idea how to get through it. We’ll have to think hard about how to proceed.”

  “There’s no light at all in there?” I clarified.

  “None whatsoever. I tried everything I could think of, even lit a bonfire. Nothing.”

  “Maybe there’s no light in the Tomb because you guys were doing it without me?” I suggested.

  “That’s got no effect on it,” Stacey snapped annoyed. “The Original status only extends to the loot. Trust me — you’re not the first ‘Original’ that I’ve had to deal with in this game. You’re the third actually. We managed to make a deal with the first, but not with the second. Still, we completed both Dungeons in question. So it’s not about you. I’m missing something. Something important…We won’t be going anywhere this evening. There’s no point in entering the Tomb until I figure out how to complete that first area.”

  Stacey collapsed on the throne, shaking her head and muttering something to herself. I was at a loss. I realized that the girl before me wasn’t some iron maiden or a powerful neural network that could process hundreds of possible actions in a minute, but an ordinary girl who didn’t know what to do. The change was so striking that I unconsciously got up from my chair, walked over to Stacey and took her hands, trying to warm them. Overwhelmed by the beauty of Barliona, I’d somehow forgotten that Stacey was human — and that therefore she could lose to, as seldom as that happened.

  “Everything will work out,” I began to assure her automatically with foolish platitudes. Then, I took her in my arms and suddenly we found ourselves in the real world. The cocoon’s lid slid aside, the wires disconnected, we jumped out of our capsules and…How nice it is that the quest timer stops when the player is out in reality.

  We didn’t stay there for very long…

  * * *

  “You have a pretty castle,” Clouter said excitedly. The sorrow, bitterness and resignation had left his mind, like all the useless information leaves the mind of a student who’s passed his exams. Clouter again resembled our old companion from Beatwick.

  “There’s this bit of business,” I tussled the fidget’s head as Clouter, in turn, began to stroke and scratch the Gray Death, causing the she-wolf to slit her eyes and almost purr like a cat. She’d never encountered such friendly attention before.

  “Mahan, tell me, why did I become a Priest?” Clouter left the she-wolf alone with difficulty and looked up at me inquisitively. “Mother said that there’s nothing divine about me and that the goddess does not hear me. I even considered becoming a Warrior, and then this thing happened…”

  “What thing?” I asked carefully.

  “Well…I don’t even know how to explain it. There wasn’t anything in Anhurs, but here, when I met Viltrius, it was like I found some bit of truth. I could see the goblin as if he was in the palm of my hand — his torments, his desires, the deep esteem he felt for his master. I also realized the Viltrius has a very negative relationship with his god. I don’t know whether you can see it or not, but there’s a negative relationship emblem hanging over the head of your majordomo. It’s simply screaming that you are dealing with a creature who is not loved by his god. Or a creature who doesn’t love his god, I’m not quite sure. I have no idea why I only see it above him. Neither you, nor my guard friends have an emblem above their heads.”

  “An emblem? What does it look like?” I asked baffled. If an NPC can suddenly see the bars for Hit Points or Reputation, then something’s really broken somewhere. And I had better notify the admins about it.

  “Well…An emblem is simply the name I’ve give it, since I don’t know what it is,” Clouter backpedaled, dispelling my worry. Back at the very dawn of full-immersion games, the learned scholars fought pitched battle, tearing theirs and each other’s beards out, trying to prove their points of view. Some said that humans would fall over the edge and completely relocate their consciousnesses into the game. Others claimed that nothing would happen and their mad colleagues should seek qualified help. There were pickets, rallies and protests. But that was twenty years ago. I was still young and ignorant and didn’t understand why we couldn’t simply enjoy the immense quantity of fantasy literature that appeared in response to the new technological leaps. Dmitriy Rus, Ruslan Mihaylov, Andrei Vasiliev — the works of these men had embedded themselves in my consciousness, engendering a deep affection for computer games. It’s a good thing that the future they predicted hadn’t come to pass. “I simply don’t know how to describe it correctly. Viltrius’ emblem is kind of like…well…it’s all whorls, red, all intertwined and decorated with scary images, skulls and teeth. It’s very difficult to concentrate and get a long look at it. It’s constantly shifting and moving like a mirage. The only thing I’m sure of is that only Viltrius has it.”

  “Does Vimes have one too?” I ventured. Viltrius is a goblin. A creature that’s incredibly uncommon to Malabar. On the other hand, in Kartoss, goblins are a dime a dozen. What if upon turning into a Zombie, Clouter had become a Priest not of Eluna, but of Tartarus?

  “Who is that?” Clouter frowned cutely, trying to appear more mature.

  “The captain of my guard. A huge and terrible Tauren.”

  “You have a Tauren in your castle?!” Clouter hopped up with excitement, glanced several times at the door, wishing to get away from me as quickly as possible, and then rattled off impatiently: “Where is he? Will he let me touch him? Does he look like a cow? Does he have real horns? What about hooves?”

  “Viltrius, call Vimes in here,” I asked the goblin, interrupting Clouter. I’ll confess that I was quite shocked when I first laid eyes on my guard captain — Taurens were considered extinct. But I’m a player who’s prepared for the twisted fantasy of the developers. Clouter however is an ordinary NPC, and everything in Altameda is a wonder for him.

  “Oh mommy!” Clouter’s eyes went round and he clapped his hand over his mouth, stifling his scream. Proud and dauntless, Vimes thundered through the doors. Clad in steel like a tank, the Tauren instilled fear and trepidation, as any high-level NPC should.

  “Master!” Vimes boomed, inclining his head respectfully. Only now did I realize that Vimes was playing to the audience. In the presence of Clouter and the guards — I noticed the new Zombies in the doors — the captain of the castle guard had appeared in his full splendor, demonstrating who enforces order in Altameda. One glance at
a guard like that is likely to banish any sinister thoughts from your head. Aside from maybe getting out of the vision of this monster as quickly as possible.

  I looked at Clouter and barely contained a satisfied smile. Along with the hand clapped over his mouth, the boy looked completely shocked. It was like he’d seen a ghost. It’s nice to be the owner of things so unique they cause such trepidation. Even if it’s only among the NPCs. And even if it’s only in a virtual game.

  “Oh but he’s so sick!” Clouter finally came to and looked over at me. I was stunned — his eyes were full of everything but surprise and wonder. Pain, consternation, compassion…Clouter was looking at me like I was a person who abused animals. “Why don’t you help him?”

  Without awaiting an answer, Clouter approached the Tauren. Vimes didn’t know how to react, so he froze and looked over at me several times searchingly. The boy didn’t evoke a sense of danger in the Tauren and you could see that he himself didn’t feel any fear of the imposing warrior. The other guards were pressing themselves against the wall, trying to stay out of the Tauren’s sight, but Clouter headed confidently towards my head of security, set on doing something known only to him.

  “You poor fellow.” The fledgling Priest shook his head, placing his hand on the Tauren’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We will figure something out.”

  Mandatory quest available: ‘The Pain of the Captain of the Guard.’ Description: Vimes, the guard captain of Altameda, executes his duties perfectly, concealing from the world the sorrow of his loss: The truth is that Vimes’ love has been abducted by the son of his tribe’s chieftain. Vimes could not oppose the will of his tribe and so left his tribe to be a guard, seeking death in battle. Solve this problem. Quest type: Mandatory, castle-related. Reward/Penalty: Variable.

  Two impossible things appeared before my eyes basically at the same moment. The first was a mandatory quest, which were so rare in this game that you could count them on the fingers of one hand. The second was that Vimes sank to his knees, covering his weeping face with his hands like a small child. Clouter began to console the Tauren, stroking his head, and here the third impossible thing happened — Vimes collapsed to the floor entirely. At first I thought that my guard had taken ill and I even lurched in his direction; however, Clouter stopped me. Vimes was merely asleep.

  “Did you know that he hasn’t slept in three years?” Clouter looked at me. He didn’t resemble a happy fellow anymore, but rather an old man wizened by life, who had just solved another difficult problem and was now scolding a poor student. In the given case, me. “Or do these things not interest you?”

  “How did you learn all this?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I simply saw it. You can’t not see it. It’s a flaming fire. A hope cornered in a tight corner. The desire to die. Mother told me that Priests can see through other creatures, but it was off limits to me. I was a Warrior. But now I am a Priest and therefore…Don’t force me to explain what I don’t understand myself, Mahan. Let Vimes get some sleep and then help him. It doesn’t matter how, just help him. Even if it’s just ordering him to forget about his beloved once and for all. Vimes respects you; he won’t dare ignore a direct order. Promise?”

  “I will make sure to help Vimes,” I confirmed, discovering an entirely new appreciation for the phrase ‘resolve this issue.’ The quest didn’t tell me that I had to rush to save the girl, even if she was a girl with two horns and hooves. Who knows, maybe she’s happy and returning her to Vimes won’t actually solve anything. I need to resolve this issue the way the owner of a castle would do it. Damn! I am getting the distinct impression that there’s a trap here somewhere!

  “We must travel to Kartoss,” Clouter went on sadly. “There’s nothing else we can do here.”

  The portal demon opened the way to the central square of the Nameless City and our detachment of seven sentients set off on its journey in mournful silence. That’s the way things work out sometimes — you feel like everything’s okay, that you’re happy, and then you speak with an NPC and everything changes. Your mood plummets and doesn’t even seem like it’s about to return. Who asked me to invite Clouter to my castle anyway?

  * * *

  We found the Monk Instructor at the cemetery outside of the Nameless City, under the shadow of a great tree. Knucklear was busy honing one of the most important monk skills. He was sleeping. We barely managed to shake him awake. The stout man reeked of wine. Maybe I’m missing something, but the last thing I imagined was that this creature could be a teacher. I’m not sure what the devs were on when they came up with him…although, actually that’s not much of a mystery. The mystery is something else — how did the quality control department approve this drunkard. This is a social game after all!

  When a meaningful expression appeared on his inebriated face, I began to relate the gist of the problem. Knucklear scratched his belly and drawled meaningfully:

  “So that’s how it is! Yeaaaaah…Sounds like work…Ah-ah-ah-hrrrrooo…”

  When it finally dawned on me that ‘ah-hrrrooo’ was not the continuation of a meaningful phrase, but a simple old snore, I exploded. I guess it wasn’t Knucklear’s day since it had begun with Elizabeth’s unexpected anger and ended with Vimes on his knees bawling and Mars ascending in the Taurus constellation. I never imagined I’d feel so angry about an NPC, but Knucklear really got my goat. He managed to accomplish what even Prontho hadn’t. He made me lose my temper.

  The Shaman has three hands…

  You are attempting to summon a Spirit beyond your rank. You are summoning a Spirit you have not mastered. The summon is impossible.

  …and behind his back a wing…

  You are attempting to summon a Spirit beyond your rank. You are summoning a Spirit you have not mastered.

  …from the heat upon his breath…

  You are attempting to summon a Spirit beyond your rank.

  Shining candle-fire springs…

  For an instant the candle’s flame flared around me with the full intensity of the sun — only to be snuffed out and give way to the coolness and gentleness of water. Reality slipped away from me as I found myself in a liquid environment. I was filled with feelings that I had never felt before. How do you describe the way a fish feels, able to change direction at any moment in three dimensions? Freedom? Independence? The opportunity to make a choice, that only it will be responsible for? Who knows? Fish are pretty strange creatures when you think about it. How can you stay silent when you’re surrounded by such beauty? Such grandeur? Such might?

  “Remember brother, the water is deceptive. Don’t let it drown you,” I heard a faintly familiar voice, forcing the thoughts in my mind to turn over limply. Someone was trying to accuse my beloved, darling water of doing something illegal, so someone was really asking for it. Water is the source of life! How could it be deceptive?

  “Shaman — these aren’t Spirits and dances with the tambourine. This isn’t petitioning the ancestors and appealing to their wisdom. A Shaman is a guide between the worlds. Not a bridge. As soon as a Shaman becomes a path between those who remained and those who wish to remain, he loses himself. A Shaman may guide someone but he cannot pave his own way. The time has come to decide who you are — a guide or a path. Don’t let the water deceive you, Harbinger. Feel.”

  The heavy voice grew heavier with each word. I scowled with displeasure — not only was this jerk accusing my beloved water, but he was also forcing me to do something, to think about something! Me — a Harbinger of Malabar!

  The desire to find out who considers himself immortal grew so intense that I tried to push away the pleasure that had gripped me and concentrated. And I do mean tried because nothing came of it — the water remained inside of me, around me, I was the water and I wasn’t about to leave this state.

  “A powerful and cruel element. It has claimed more than a thousand fools, who thought they were stronger than it. You cannot fight against the element. You must agree with it. You must pacify it. Fee
l.”

  The obnoxious voice continued speaking to me like to a small child that had gotten its hands on an electronic device and was now trying to figure out how it worked by means of a hammer. The rage and irritation that the unknown creature’s voice evoked in me were much more vivid and intense than the desire to dissolve and vanish in the water’s gentle hands. It had been a long time since I had to make a decision like this — I had to choose the type of pleasure I would receive. Either the pleasure of the water, or the pleasure of smearing someone’s face across the floor. Kornik would have a fine smirk if he learned this…

  Kornik! The Shaman! Barliona!

  An electric shock ran through me. I remembered who I was! Player Daniel Mahan, who had found himself in a strange scrape with water and somehow forgotten, even if temporarily, his own self. What were these strange experiments that the Corporation was conducting? The ‘Exit’ button appeared before me for a second, offering me an escape to reality where I could dig deeper into these humans experiments, yet something held me back. My mind understood that what would follow would be an illegal action, since my faculties of feeling were too excited, and yet something inside of me demanded that I go on. It wasn’t the water’s flirtation, but the desire and chance to extricate myself from this situation and understand why all of this had happened.

  “Return to me.” As soon as the ‘Exit’ button vanished, another wave of pleasure engulfed me, with its pleasant and barely perceptible whisper. The water was insatiable. I was soaring in weightlessness, watching the play of light, whole beautiful creations appeared and vanished around me, beckoning into some dark distance. My mood was improving, my objectivity was waning, so with my last crumbs of consciousness, I shut my eyes and tried to concentrate. The water was all around me in all its majesty and beauty. If I allow it to engulf me, maybe something bad might happen, something that might influence my future existence in Barliona. If I don’t allow it to engulf me — the opposite will happen and I will receive bonuses. All that remained was to decide what to do…