Clans War

by Mahanenko, Vasily

  Skill increase:

  +1 Reputation with the Hermit. Current status: Enmity. Points remaining until Mistrust: 11999.

  “Oh mother of our earth!” Kornik’s voice seeped through the light that filled the room and plunged it into a haze. “I beg you not to be angry with my student and allow him to tell you his tale.”

  WHAT?! This is the battle?!

  “Don’t worry, Harbinger, your student just explained everything to me,” the Hermit replied in a satisfied voice. The lighting returned to normal and I saw scorched walls, Kornik on his knees, and the Hermit twice as large as she had been earlier with her eyes closed in pleasure reclining in the throne that was now too small for her. She opened her eyes with visible effort, looked over at me and then at Kornik, then at me again and sighed heavily.

  “A follower of Karmadont and his masters is incapable of creating an item of such purity.”

  “In that case I’ll leave you two alone,” Kornik got to his feet, smirked and turning to me, added: “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow in Anhurs. You will have to pay a penalty for a false summons. Can you imagine! Summoning me like some errand boy…! Oh the people a poor goblin will have to work with…”

  It looked like Kornik couldn’t care less that among the Shamans he and I were of the same rank and he had no right to punish me. For him, I had remained the errant student who bungled everything he touched. And who needed to be punished…

  “Allow me to see the key one more time, Shaman,” the Hermit asked once the goblin had vanished. I retrieved the dwarves and offered them to the tensed up woman. I wonder what is eliciting this reaction in her…

  “Yes, this is he…” The cave’s owner said after a short pause. “Marvelous…You are following in Karmadont’s footsteps and yet you are crafting holy artifacts. How is this possible?”

  “Honorable Hermit,” I tried to be as respectful and polite as I could. The woman’s question was clearly rhetorical, requiring no answer, so I decided to ply my line. “Please explain what you’re talking about. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to understand and…”

  “Enough!” The cave’s owner cut me off with notes of anger in her voice. “I have absorbed the energy of your creation and now know you much better than you know yourself. Deep inside, you are anything but well-intentioned and polite. Don’t try to appear dumber than you are in actual fact. Call me Linea.”

  “Okay. In that case, here’s what happened…” The Hermit’s status was unclear to me, so I decided to simply tell her what connected me with the Chess Set of Karmadont. Beginning with my desire to create the orcs, demonstrating them to Linea there and then, and ending with my realization that I wanted to create the Chess Set as I was crafting the Tourmaline War Lizards. Wishing to develop the topic of Karmadont, I told her everything that I had managed to find out about him — the great Emperor who united the empire of humans, the great creator who crafted unique items among which only the Imperial Throne of Malabar survived to this day. A Hunter who managed to survive where everyone else fell. Linea didn’t interrupt me, listening attentively and smiling to herself as I listed Karmadont’s achievements. Finally I concluded my monologue. After a short pause, Linea said pensively:

  “Human memory is a strange thing. It wishes to remember everything bad and evil that ever happened in history, and yet it is afraid to enter the very source of this darkness. And for this reason, it idealizes it, whitewashes it, imbues it with heroic qualities, while everything good and holy that fought against the darkness is tainted and blackened. I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, Shaman. Karmadont was never a kind and generous ruler. To the opposite! He was the Head Priest of the Tarantulas and really did unite the human tribes into a single empire, massacring everyone else in the process. Learn the true history of this man and then you will understand my reaction to the chess pieces you created…”

  Karmadont really was a great man; however, just as with the Dragons he was a great man on the wrong side of history. Linea didn’t know how the simple Hunter had earned the power of an Emperor and where he encountered the Tarantulas, to whom he bowed his knee. But one fact was clear — Karmadont gained his power after he returned from his search for the Ergreis. I smirked thoughtfully. There was simply too many signs pointing to the cave whose coordinates some random player was trying to sell to me. My premonition insisted that I wouldn’t be able to avoid going there. After he returned, Karmadont assembled an army of followers, seized power in a small kingdom and began to methodically annihilate his neighbors, feeding the souls of his captive foes to the Tarantulas. At the same time Karmadont began to create, wishing to demonstrate to the world the perversity of his essence.

  “But the Imperial Throne is not an unholy object!” I cried surprised.

  “True. Except that an Emperor who sits on the throne must die in order to leave it. He cannot live even six months without it. Could you really call this a holy object? And keep in mind that Eluna worked on the other aspects of the throne, removing many of them from memory. Even she did not manage to destroy the lifelong bond. Despite his immense might, the Emperor remains a slave of the throne. He loses his freedom the same instant that he places his crown on his head.”

  In general, Karmadont turned out to be a fairly interesting craftsman. For example, the Altarian Falcon — the scepter of power he created and Geranika’s most desired item — turned out to be a banal device for mind-controlling others. The wielder of the scepter could bend the will of any creature and force it to do his bidding. Or the Annihilator, the coordinates to which I received back in Erebus. Karmadont created this item in order to butter up his masters — the Tarantulas. This last bit of news came as an utter surprise to me, since I had figured that it had been Chaos who had created the Annihilator. Everything turned out much more interesting and convoluted. If it weren’t for the story with the Dragons — who had in the span of an hour gone from the guardians of Barliona to one of its most terrifying nightmares — I would have never believed Linea. Yet she spoke with such a melancholy smile that I couldn’t really doubt her for a second. I needed to review history.

  “Therefore, when I saw a piece of the key, destroyed by Karmadont himself, I thought about his return to this world. Want me to tell you something only you know? When you were creating the Chess Set, your Artificer level didn’t change. For, this is not an artifact. It is a key.”

  “The Tomb has already been opened,” I said carefully, trying not to stir any unnecessary emotions in Linea. Practice showed that the woman was mercurial and belonged to the tribe of shoot-first-ask-questions-later.

  “That’s what you think,” the Hermit shook her head sadly. “You opened the passage, but you didn’t open the Tomb itself. The point of the Chess Set isn’t to open something — to the opposite. Karmadont created them with a single goal in mind — to inter the Creator inside. Even if you complete the full set, you won’t get inside. The entrance to the Tomb does not exist in Barliona, nor the Tomb itself. I’d have discovered it long ago. Trust me — mountains do not pose much of an obstacle to me.”

  “Then where does the opened passage lead?” I asked in shock.

  “That doesn’t interest me. Enough about Karmadont. In my view, Shaman, you are not yet ready to set out on the path of the Artificer. Before moving forward, you must fulfill your duties to the other Free Citizens. Complete the Pendants. Give them to the lovers and then return to me. Then I shall show you what it means to be an Artificer. And now go, you still have much to do.”

  Quest updated: ‘The Creator of the World.’ Description: Complete the Pendant quest, fulfilling the orders from players up to the current date. Then, return to the Hermit for further instructions.

  I had a hundred questions for the Hermit, but as soon as I opened my mouth, my surroundings wavered and a moment later resolved into the familiar sight of the Elma Mountains, a huge number of players and a tranquil lake of lava. Linea cast me out of her cave like some naughty kitten.

  Who was she anyway
?!

  My return was accompanied by various special effects — there was no other way to explain the attention I received from the crowd of players. They were expecting revelations and explanations from me — such as, for example, why I’d brought them all there. So I had to take a breath and come up with an excuse on the spot.

  “A big thanks to everyone! We accomplished what we needed to and got everything we were planning on getting. The Imitator will distribute the rewards among the participants, Marle is hereby named the official leader of the raiders of our clan and you may address any questions you have to her. Thank you again for your quick response time and work. I am confident that we will all see each other soon. I have many plans for further adventures together! By way of an additional bonus, I’d like you to know that our castle portal will be available for your use free of charge for the next week! Viltrius will send you wherever you like whenever you like!”

  Judging by the hubbub that ensued among the players, they’d been expecting something more concrete from me — accompanied by a demonstration of unique items I had acquired — and yet I concluded my speech and dissolved among the crowd. Before telling the world the true history of Karmadont, I needed to discuss this news with Stacey. Did it even make sense to do this?

  “Will there be a video? ” Her thought instantly occurred to me.

  “No, it was blocked. I’ll tell you everything this evening. What’s the news with the Celestial Empire?”

  “They’re coming. They’ll be here in two hours. Grab Plinto and let’s go. We don’t have any time.”

  “It’s a dumb questions, but still — do you have a mole in their clan?”

  “Just as they do in ours. Don’t let the small stuff distract you. We need to stop our guests in their tracks.”

  * * *

  Were I a bit more sentimentally disposed, I would say that a crisp sea breeze tussled my hair, while one of the most beautiful women in the world was pressed up against me, her eyes shut in bliss. But the fact was that we had clambered aboard Stacey’s ship (which had sailed ahead of time to meet us at the likely landing site of the Celestial Empire fleet) and were now intrepidly rushing athwart the waves and away from the continent, clutching the rigging and trying not to topple overboard from the violent rolling. A storm had settled over the seas.

  “Visual contact in ten minutes!” yelled Calran, who had somehow become the captain of Stacey’s vessel. I don’t even want to imagine what my wife had promised Grygz’s right-hand man to entice him over to her ‘Freemie’ vessel.

  “Mahan,” Plinto gibed sarcastically, getting comfortable in his catapult basket, “I’ll bet anything that your depraved mind is responsible for coming up with this mode of conveyance! Who else could think of shooting players at enemy ships! Tamerlane stop screwing around and hop on board. This ride’s about to take off!”

  Tamerlane the Wondrous, a tank from Phoenix, tied a rope around his waist that was supposed to keep us tethered together as we traveled through the air and then climbed up to join Plinto in the basket. I couldn’t help but crack a smile — the Warrior who was as huge as a buffalo clad in plate armor, crushed the Rogue completely under him, pressing him into the catapult’s depths. Plinto uttered a taut grunt and proclaimed a choice, unkind oath against all tanks including Tamerlane. It didn’t seem like the Rogue frequently had the opportunity to press up against a large male body. Even if just in the game.

  “Visual contact in five minutes!” Calran reminded us spurring me to join the pile. Tying the rope around me, I crawled on top of Tamerlane — who didn’t even notice my insignificant addition to his mass. To Plinto’s advice that I lose some weight please, I blurted out something prickly, trying to conceal the trembling of my hands: Even though I enjoyed flying a lot, right now I didn’t feel like myself. It’s not every day that you get catapulted by, uh, a catapult.

  “We have visual contact! We’re entering the no-fly zone!”

  “Ten seconds!” Anastaria commanded immediately. “Nine…Eight…”

  The Celestial armada didn’t bother trusting fate and destiny, and therefore set up its no-fly zone to be as large as it possibly could be — as far as we could see. The horizon was quickly growing darker with the hundreds of approaching ships. My heart tightened — if we assume that each vessel is carrying a hundred players, then a truly terrifying force is moving against Kalragon. Thousands of ships with a hundred players in each…Stopping an avalanche this immense would be an impossible task.

  “Three…Two…One…Blast off!”

  My chest compressed, locking in the last breath I took, and my heart collapsed into a point and crawled down to my heels, causing an unpleasant sensation beneath my stomach. And all of this was caused by my own emotions and phobias, since I was still playing with my sensations turned off.

  “Wheee!” Plinto cried happily. Forcing my way through the thick wind, I turned my head and saw the Rogue dangling at the other end of the rope tied to Tamerlane’s waist, his arms stretched out as if they were wings. Plinto was savoring the act of flying, something you could not say about our tank. Tense and contorted like an embryo, he was muttering something under his breath. I’m sure that if we would be doing this out in reality right now, a head of broccoli would have envied the green on the Warrior’s face.

  The Celestial armada was approaching us as fast as a bullet. We hadn’t even reached the apex of our trajectory when the first enemy ships began to pass beneath us. The system notified us that there were players (with difficult to pronounce names) targeting us and every second there were more and more of them. Our arrival had not gone unnoticed.

  The Celestial Empire was sailing to Kalragon’s shores in a broad, expansive formation, in the center of which three solitary ships were moving on their lonesome. Our mission objective. I was happy to discover that I had been right to assume that there would be an area where flying was permitted within the fleet’s perimeter. Players mounted on the Celestial analogues of our griffins were darting in barely perceptible dots between the ships below us.

  “We need the right one!” yelled Plinto, pointing at the largest ship of the three. How he managed to spy the statue from this height remained a mystery to me, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. Turning into my Dragon Form, I pulled the Warrior and Rogue over to me, placed them on my back, spread my wings and barely avoided an uncontrolled fall. Our flight velocity was so great that my wings were almost torn off! Cursing several times for not having found the time to practice this maneuver, I folded my wings and began to extend them little by little, in the hope of lowering our speed. We had almost reached the far side of the armada when I finally managed to open my wings without hurting myself and adjusted our bearing.

  “Heh, suckers,” smirked Plinto. I didn’t share his glee however. The entire perimeter of the armada was littered with Mages who were already summoning help. Appearing on the decks of their vessels, they immediately began mounting pterodactyls and soaring up into the sky. Judging by the number of pursuers now after us, the trajectory of our fall had already been calculated and we’d encounter a warm welcome in another minute or so. Quickly, robustly and professionally — and were we ordinary players, we’d go plummeting to our deaths in the cold waters. But I was a Dragon, so thanks for playing and until next time! Like, subscribe, and all that jazz.

  “Tune in next time for the exciting adventures of the Lone Ranger and Tamerlane!” The Rogue was entertaining himself, spurring me like a jockey on a racehorse. I couldn’t see behind me, but I’d bet he was waving his arms imitating a lasso. When we’re back down on the ground I’ll kill that bastard. “Come on, Scout! Put a little more into it! Those flying chickens are gaining on us! Have you forgotten how to fly or what?!”

  It only took me several flaps to tear away from our pursuers and smash into the sails of the ship Plinto had been directing us to. I didn’t have the time to slow down for a gentle landing. The only thing that I managed to notice before getting tangled up in the rigging w
as the immense statue of a man with his arm raised upward. The statue was in the middle of the four-masted vessel and the question of how Plinto had noticed it became even more mysterious.

  “We’re in position! Summoning now!”

  We didn’t try to risk it. If the choice is between two healers, one of whom is a Level 300 Shaman with a single unlocked Spirit of Healing and the other is a Level 352 Paladin who had several hundred raids under her belt, the choice of the latter is more than evident. Stacey couldn’t fly with us, since I didn’t have the capacity to carry her; however, we had the unique ability of summoning each other to the other’s location, which is what we now used to great effect. While I was dealing with the cordage and canvas that had wrapped me like a cocoon, three high-level Kalragon players rushed at the statue. It had to be destroyed at any price!

  “Bravo!” sounded a low male voice to the accompaniment of clapping. Someone was applauding us. Only now did I notice that there was no other sound aside from my grunting as I struggled to free myself from the rigging. Neither Plinto striking the statue, nor the sounds of spells, nor the cursing of the Celestial defenders. There was no sound at all. I was about to be surprised when I noticed the ‘Sphere of Negation’ debuff, which blocked all sounds. No one could hear me wheezing besides myself, so nothing bad had happened. But the very fact that there was a sphere around me disheartened me — it takes some time to cast one of those. It would already have to be on the vessel at the time of our arrival.

  “They were waiting for us! There’s a mole in Phoenix!” Anastaria confirmed my hunch. I became even more disheartened. Are they about to send us to respawn?

  “Help the Dragon!” sounded an order and the white canvas shrouding my vision slid aside. I couldn’t help but curse when I beheld what was going on around me — our intrepid commandos, Anastaria, Plinto and Tamerlane, were alive and well and standing several meters in front of me, unable to move a muscle. And this was not due to some spell — there was nothing affecting us beside the Sphere of Negation. Everything was much simpler — like a boyband cornered by its fans, the trio was surrounded by Celestial players in an impassable stockade of bodies, arms, legs and other body parts. The displeasure on Plinto’s face demonstrated that he wouldn’t be able to rescue us in this situation — after all PvP was disabled here too.