The Kartoss Gambit (The Way of the Shaman: Book #2)

by Vasily Mahanenko

  My inner Hoarding Hamster collapsed with paroxysms of love for Anastaria. Right now he was not just prepared to hand over the Orc Warriors to her, but promise to craft all the remaining chess pieces in the next couple of hours. The eight-item set with stats like these could be worth around fifty thousand gold! While the Greed Toad was trying to revive the Hamster, I started to don the new gear.

  Putting aside the Crafting gloves, I couldn't help feeling pleased when I looked at my stats: Yeahhh... Stamina: 238. Intellect: 757. Defence against all types of damage: 280. Physical damage resistance: 840. And there was me thinking I was such a cheater with my rings. That was before I got acquainted with Master Rick! How could level 20 items, even rare ones, have such stats? There were several letters lying on the table. I opened the first of them and it all became clear as I read it:

  "Good day Mahan. I am sending you several items, as promised. I'm sorry I couldn't find a cloak at such short notice. Rick doesn't know how to make them and the rest of our Tailors didn't have anything for level 21. I gave instructions to buy a cloak of your level with appropriate stats from common NPC-traders, but this would take time. We'll send it soon. I'm not sending any rings or neck-chains — you're a Jeweller yourself and would be able to create something much better than what I may have to offer. You can see that the items you were sent are somewhat unusual. They were created by our Master, Rick Deadeye, who has 12 levels in Crafting. You should have some idea how much such a set would cost at an auction. And I'm not even going to get into the scrolls. As you can see, the Phoenix clan is very interested in having you join our ranks: we wouldn't have sent you some cheap rubbish that you can buy from any Merchant.

  And now we get to the important part. We need to talk. Please contact me as soon as you can. I have already kicked myself several times for giving you a one-way communication amulet. To fix this I'm sending you a normal two-way amulet, so I can contact you at any time. Now then. Your trick question about Leite's item was impressive and unexpected and I wasn't ready for it. Yes, they have not been accepted into our clan. We recruited Karachun to get hold of the Mushu Dungeon First Kill. The remaining three refused to join and are camping in a safe zone in Anhurs, having resolved to wait for your decision on joining. As Eric said: "If Mahan joins, we'll follow him and if not, I hope you don't hold it against us if we give it a pass. Promises have to be kept. If we ditch him now, where is the guarantee that we wouldn't ditch Phoenix too? This isn't want you're looking for." It was a worthy reply, I even began to respect the dwarf. Hellfire was unwise to exaggerate about their presence in the clan. I had to confirm his words, which meant deceiving you. Hel thought you would rush in and join us to be with your friends. But everything actually worked out for the best. If you joined the clan, we would have failed the quest from the Herald. In essence it's quite simple — we must give you a chance to carry out a certain mission. I am sure that you have many questions and I am prepared to answer them. Once again — contact me. You cannot write everything in a letter.

  The main reason why the clan needs you is your third level in Crafting and the Kardamont chess pieces. You can, of course, try to deny that you're the one who made them, but try to weigh up all the pros and cons for yourself. From what I saw, you have a head on your shoulders. Figuring out the bit with the Crafting was elementary — Karachun told us about the rings and their stat bonuses, we compared that against the recipes and got our answer. That wasn't hard. The only thing that Rick was curious about was how you managed to change stats, since you need character level of 150 and 100 levels in any profession before you can access the design mode. It goes without saying that this is unlocked via a quest chain, which needs several people to complete — it's physically impossible to solo. Our analysts are still racking their brains how this is possible and are even putting Karachun's words into doubt. But Eric, whom I contacted specifically on this account, has confirmed that you were able to change the properties of the rings you crafted. All my analysts are in a state of shock and can only shrug at this. This is the third reason why we want you in the clan.

  As you can see, I'm showing you all my cards. Your move, Jeweller.

  Kind regards, Anastaria, head of the Phoenix clan."

  It was a good thing that the Personal Room had a chair, so I just sat down instead of dropping on the floor. Right, time out. I'll leave the thinking for later. Now I will read the other letters and then make some decisions. If my head is still working by the end of it. I opened the third letter and read on:

  “Hello Mahan. Listen, some weird shit is going on. Our three-strong fighting force had gathered together in Anhurs two days after leaving the mine. Then, out of the blue, we were contacted by Phoenix representatives, asking us to join the clan. It was an attractive offer, of course, but we made a firm decision to wait for you. We weren't that keen on ditching anyone. Today I had a visit from Anastaria, the leader of the Phoenix clan herself. She asked about Malachite mining, the items we were given and the place that we had taken. I don't consider any of this a secret and gave her honest answers to all of this, about the fifth place and what each of us got. She showed a lot of interest in you, in the rings and in how you changed their stats. This I also told her, although now I think that perhaps I shouldn't have. So, in general, know that the Phoenix people were asking about you. We'll be waiting for you at the 'Jolly Gnoom' in just over two months. We cannot come to join you — PK-ers have become a real pain. As soon as you leave the city, they pop up right away. If you can, please send us the money that we got from the Dungeon — we're running a bit low at the moment.

  Eric.

  Once I leave Beatwick, the drinks are on me. So what if you can't get drunk in Barliona — the drinks are still on me! Eric and the guys didn't ditch me after all! And I was all set to get upset.... Now, what do we have in the third letter?

  “Hello Mahan.

  Sending you the Lapis Lazuli. I hope that you're able to work it by now. Fifty pieces of Lapis should last you a good while. Anastaria's birthday is four weeks away. Don't let me down.

  Hellfire, head of the Phoenix clan.”

  The first thing I did before deliberating on the letters was go to the gremlin and send Eric ten thousand gold and the gloves that dropped in the Dungeon. That's it. I just sent and forgot about them. They were becoming a tempting annoyance in my bag. I also wrote him that I was all right and would be heading out to Anhurs in two months' time — though it might take me about a week to get there. After this I sat down in the Personal Room and finally let it hit me. My hands were shaking and not a single sensible thought entered my head, except for: "What to do?"

  Very soon an epic plan ripened in my mind: Kornik came to Farstead. If he was here, he could explain to me why my feelings seem to be glitching. Why is my head pointing me towards Phoenix, but my heart away from it?

  Once that decision had been reached, it was much easier to start doing things and I started to put everything away into my bag: a hundred scrolls of Wall of Flame dealing 1000 points of damage and the pile of Lapis Lazuli from Hellfire. Then there was only the two-way communication amulet left. I looked at it despondently but still put it around my neck. The deal with it was simple enough — either I take it and use it or I return it, together with all the items. After one good look at those I was entirely disinclined to return them. At least for now. I didn't really want to feel like a complete sell-out, so after giving it a good think, I wrote a reply:

  "Good day, Anastaria.

  Thanks a bunch for the items and the scrolls. As soon as I outgrow them, I will repair them and return them to you as good as new. As you correctly pointed out, I understand full well what such a set can cost. Perhaps for you this is not so much, but for me it's simply enormous. Even if I do join Phoenix, I do not wish to be in the position of a poor relation, who gets clothed from the lord's charity. I am not used to being a dead weight.

  Shaman Mahan."

  I read over the letter one last time. I didn't appear to make any pro
mises, but didn't agree to anything either. Until I sort out the mess inside me, I'll keep making such excuses. I sent the reply and was hit by a crazy thought. I started a new letter:

  "Hello Hellfire. I got the Lapis and will try to work it. Here's the thing: I told Anastaria about the Seconds that I ran across in the Krong Province. One of them I recognised as Plinto, on account of his Phoenix. I have a request. Can you send me the nicks and appearance holograms of the top twenty players from Phoenix and the Seconds. It would be useful to know who to trust and who to avoid at all costs."

  If Hellfire replied, I would know exactly what to do with his chess request for Anastaria. He wants the Dwarves, eh? Well, bite me!

  "Dearie, can you help out a weak helpless woman?"

  Patricia was still standing in the door of her house, stretching an envelope towards players running past. Some players stopped, their gaze growing cloudy as they looked up the quest in the manual, and were off again a few minutes later. No-one wanted to get involved in a socializer quest.

  "Greetings to you, dear lady," I came up to the old woman and bowed. "I finished your assignment and now possess the treasure of Swiftbel, your brother. I have a few questions for you — would you mind answering them?"

  "Well, dearie, you do some work for me first and ask them questions after," Patricia's abrupt reply completely threw me. "Shouting it all out loud. Brother! Swiftbel! Treasure! You're walking around like some Red Riding Hood who just brought pies to grandma. I won't be telling you anything! And don't even think about carrying me to Mabel, like last time. Practically all the neighbours were laughing at me after that. No, no. I won't tolerate such an outrage a second time — I'll summon the guards right away."

  And there you have it. I happen to have a quest connected to you, granny. And you've decided to get all stubborn. I looked at my Attractiveness with Patricia in the settings: 1. At least it was 2 last time. Stop! Last time I completed a quest, that's why Attractiveness went up. And later I made that tea for the old ladies.

  "Then let me deliver that letter for you, it's on my way anyhow."

  "Right you are too. I've not sent the letter yet! Everyone wants to get enriched at the expense of the old and frail," Patricia was back to her old tune about the unfair life of an NPC in Barliona, but I was only half-listening. If I wasn't mistaken, in the next few hours my feet were going to get pretty worn out...

  I was right. My Attractiveness with Mabel was also set at one. After reading me a lecture on how people should not quarrel, must look after the young and respect the old, she handed me the reply. I returned to Patricia and discovered that my Attractiveness rose to two. So I kept walking between the old ladies, having to listen not only to their lectures, but to what other players thought of me:

  "Such a dolt. It's a flippin' socializer! Ditch it."

  "Let's go to an instance. Nothing to catch here!"

  "Dude, what the heck are you doing? Trying to find out who gets tired first, you or the old bags?" Well, well.

  Players rushing around Farstead weren't exactly tolerant. They had to watch a touched-in-the-head Shaman running between old lady NPCs, delivering a letter, getting a new one and going straight back. What a moron, right?

  During my fortieth round the old ladies started to repeat themselves. That is they once again started to say that everyone tries to enrich themselves at the expense of the old and frail. Finally, the moment had arrived. I may have lost five hours outside Beatwick, but on another return to Patricia I knew that I would get:

  Attractiveness with Patricia: 100.

  "I bet you've got quite worn out by now, sonny." said the old lady in a completely different tone, as soon as I gave her Mabel's reply. "You've been running between us almost half the day — probably done twenty miles by now. We've even run out of ideas for what to write, had to send empty letters and all. But you kept delivering them, without even looking inside. Take me to Mabel, we need to have a chat."

  Finally. I carefully gripped Patricia and delivered her to Mabel like some precious cargo. Precious indeed! My Totem depended on it.

  "Eh, Patricia, you've always had a weak spot for stubborn fools," Mabel stood by the house, watching her sister being transported. "This just isn't fair! Why did he come to you and not me? Maybe I want a ride as well."

  "Mabel, if you're envious, there's no need to shout about it," Patricia gestured me where to put her down.

  "Dear ladies, I've come here on business," I unburdened myself of the pleased-looking old lady and decided to cut to the chase.

  "So fidgety, this one," said Mabel, throwing up her arms. "Always hurrying somewhere. You think we should have tested him a bit longer?"

  "No sister dear, we've given him quite a runaround as it is. He didn't even breathe a word of complaint, and you're calling him fidgety. What is it that you came for then?"

  "No, no, no!" Mabel interrupted again before I could open my mouth. "What are we, some wandering tramps to be loitering by the threshold? Come on in, we'll have a proper chat inside."

  Mabel's house was just the same — still as white and full of light as it was last time.

  "Do make us some tea, Mabel. Mahan makes great tea, but it gives you a whopping headache afterwards. We better do it ourselves this time," Patricia, as rules of hospitality dictated, settled into an armchair and started to order her sister about.

  "Right you are — how can we chat without a cup of tea first?" the hostess started to fret and headed off to the kitchen.

  "So tell us how you managed to vanquish the woodwothe," tea taken care of, the old ladies now gave me their full attention. I considered denying there was any wothe there to speak of, but thought better of it — getting on the bad side of the old ladies wasn't worth the risk. I briefly described my adventures, not forgetting to mention the dragon.

  "So it looks like Aarenoksitolikus got dragged into this after all," Mabel said thoughtfully. "I would have never thought that you had a Dragon for a Totem. Can you show him?"

  "I can't. I'm not a real Shaman yet — I haven't completed the necessary training, so I can't summon Draco for a couple more days. And how did Swiftbel meet Aarino... Aarenoksitolikus?" — that's some tongue-twister of a name.

  "Just call him Dragon. Brother found out where they live from an ancient scroll. And then did what you did. He just went and paid them a visit, the fidget. There he made friends with Aarenoksitolikus and they spent the next twenty years together."

  "And where is this scroll now?" I was trying not to breathe in case I put off the old ladies.

  "I will make my own way back," Patricia got up and adjusted her dress, leaving my question unanswered. "Thanks for freeing the wothe, Mahan. Our brother did wrong when he put it to guard the treasure. It was languishing and lonely there. As for the scroll, finding the way to it is not easy. Not easy at all. But we've told you what it is already. Whether you heard us or not, that's your business. Go now. And don't visit us again — we'll pretend we don't know you and won't give you any more assignments."

  I was about to object, when an invisible force gripped me and shoved me out of the house. The loud bang of the closing door was accompanied by the message:

  Update of the 'Searching for your Totem' quest. Swiftbel found an ancient scroll which describes the path into the land of Dragons. Where the scroll is right now is a mystery that you must solve. The merchant's sisters gave you the necessary clues. If you fail to discover them, speak to the Shaman trainer.

  I looked angrily at the door that concealed the old ladies. What clues did they just give me exactly? I went over the entire conversation in my head and didn't discover a single lead. But approaching a Shaman Trainer would come as the very last resort, when I admit that I was unable to find the Totem myself. Missing out on a pet that might have rare stats and abilities was out of the question. It's a standard thing in Barliona: if you do something yourself — you'll get a slice of the big pie. And if you ask for help — you'll only get a biscuit. Tasty, but small. But it's the
big pie I'm after...

  "Where on earth have you been?" If I was now looking at Almis's full-time maid, he definitely had a preference for plump ladies. "Mr. Almis and his guest have been expecting you for a good while now. They've already had their third cup of tea and still there was no sign of you! Disgraceful!"

  "Catherine, bring him right through to the sitting room. And no need to grumble — Shamans are not late, they always come at the time they consider appropriate," came the voice of the former trainer and the maid immediately fell silent. Flashing her eyes and making it clear that she will be watching me very closely, she took me to the room where two men were waiting for me. Or, rather, one man and a sentient who was completely wrapped up in a grey cloak. Judging by his height it was either a gnome or a dwarf who had been very ill for a long time.

  "Kornik?"

  "We have no time for idle chatter," a deeply elderly voice came from under the hood. "Almis, you know what you have to do. Warn the others."

  "Yes, teacher. I understand."

  "As for you, young apprentice, we have to get going. Great change is coming to Barliona and you have to be ready for it," Kornik took me by the hand and immediately Almis's place vanished. As did all of Farstead. Stunned, I gazed at the great mountains propping up the sky. The golden glow that surrounded Kornik and myself kept out the snow, which was racing around us in a blizzard. Was Kornik really a Harbinger? I opened up the map to see the description of the province where we ended up. Yeah... We were right on the fringe of the Free Lands, not far from the ocean that separated Barliona's continents. The map helpfully showed me fog in all available scales, with just a contour of the border between the land and the ocean. I didn't have this region on my map. Never mind — I would pencil it in in the evening, though I had no idea how this could be of use to me other than levelling up in Cartography. Not only was it the very edge of the world, it was also very hard to get to: Kartoss was lying right between us and the Malabar Empire.