Today it was Ishtar, one of the two Guards of Gloom, who guarded the portal. I’d managed to instill the importance of the task into their heads. They relieved each other, protecting the only access to the Yonder Isles. If we failed to keep Rion, that’s where our future lay.
Platinus was quiet and visibly nervous.
“You all right?” I asked him.
“It’s been a while since I left the lab. Just feel a bit funny.”
“Don’t be so scared. You do receive your share of the raid’s XP, don’t you?”
“I do indeed. I invest it all in my profession though. I have no combat skills at all.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll sort the mobs out myself. You’d better tell me how you discovered the formula. Did you find it in one of those ancient books? How does it work?”
“I invented it myself. Spectral Dust turned out to be a universal ingredient. It changes any substance’s properties depending on the quantity added. The Sap of a Khmor Tree was traditionally used in medicine. But by adding some Dust to it, I got a lethal toxin! I even thought the admins might strip me of my levels again or block my account for doing it.”
“Why should they? Poisons have their rightful place in Sword and Sorcery, don’t they?”
“I wish,” he chuckled. “When they downleveled me for that explosion, I sat down and read the rules nice and hard. There are some restrictions on poison use. Why do you think I woke you up in the middle of the night? In theory, this new formula disrupts the game’s balance.”
“It can’t. The damage dealt by an arrow depends on the bow’s properties and the player’s stats. If he or she doesn’t have enough strength or agility, they’ll either miss or deal insignificant damage.”
“That’s right,” Platinus agrees. “If the weapon is poisoned, it works the same way. The poison’s effect can be calculated using special formulas. But when I read the arrows’ stats after I’d applied the stuff to them, I realized they were imba. You’ll see in a minute.”
Talking this way, we walked through the portal.
The sun already stood high over the Isles. Three trails led from the portal: one which turned left along the sea shore, another that headed straight toward the savannah (where our raid was still toiling away purging the place from mobs) and a third one which turned right, past the temple ruins and toward the cliff ridge. We hadn’t used it much yet. The scouts we’d sent that way had come across some high-level gorillas and got smoked without getting very far.
“Gosh it’s beautiful,” Platinus said without taking his eyes from the sun climbing the sky. “If only we could get rid of the Reapers and bring normal gameplay back! With safe zones and clear-cut locations, you know. We could use this place as a sea resort.”
“Do you miss real life?”
“Nah. I miss the old Crystal Sphere.”
I proffered my hand, helping him to climb a rocky ledge.
“I don’t miss real life at all,” Platinus grunted. In order to climb the low ledge, he’d had to pull himself up until he plopped onto his belly on the rock. His own strength and agility could use some improvement, that’s for sure. I doubted he could shoot a bow further than ten yards.
The ledge offered a decent view of the location. The Mountain Gorillas, all of them level 120+, must have thought they owned the place. It was them who’d smoked our scouts and sent them back to their respawn points.
The terrain wasn’t easy here. Mountain trails lain by the gorillas threaded the cliff slopes. Deep canyons cut through them in many places, forcing a walker to leap over to the other side. Gorillas could do it standing on their heads, I suppose, but it was quite a challenge for a human player trying to leap across a ten-foot crevice in full gear.
Platinus produced a jury-rigged telescope out of his inventory. Two complex little instruments followed which definitely looked like Dwarven work.
As Platinus had no Observation Skills, it took him some time to inspect the location and notice the mobs.
“Perfect! Alex, I count on you. They’re huge. If you miss, they’ll wipe these cliffs with me.”
“You’d better tell me about the arrows. Why do you think they’re imba?”
“Once the poison is applied, their stats disappear, replaced by question marks. Which means they become uncategorized. And whether they work... we’ll see in a moment.”
He threw a switch on one of the contraptions. A brass clock hand started moving, measuring seconds. The other device turned out to be a primitive range finder.
“We’ll start by testing arrows from the first quiver,” Platinus said. “They’re covered in the following formula: 75% Sap and 25% Spectral Dust.”
I strung the bow, notched an arrow and took aim.
“The nearest gorilla is at one hundred twenty feet as the crow flies. I can see its stats clearly. Let’s see how much damage the poison can deal it.”
“Provided it works,” I said.
“True. Still, we’re only testing it, right?”
I loosed off the first arrow.
The gorilla stopped basking in the sun and shuddered, then froze on the spot.
“Wow!” Platinus opened his eyes wide. “It’s Paralysis! This stuff must be working as a neurotoxin. The debuff icon is clearly visible. Does it say how long will it last? Yes! Thirty seconds!”
The gorilla awoke from its stupor and looked around itself without noticing us.
“Now the second quiver. The formula’s ratio is fifty-fifty.”
I notched another arrow, took aim and fired.
The gorilla growled, then headed for us in huge leaps, zigzagging from ledge to ledge.
“Back off!” I shouted, raising my shield and baring my sword.
Platinus was ecstatic. I wish I could say the same about myself. The gorilla was thirty levels above me. The level gap would have been fatal had the monster made it to us.
Luckily for us, the beast’s repeated damage counter was spinning like hell. By the time he got to us, he only had 10% life left. I killed him with a single blow.
“Super,” Platinus offered me the third quiver. “This is 75% Spectral Dust by 25% Sap.”
This time I played it safe. I chose the gorilla farthest from us at almost 150 feet. Predictably, the arrow glanced off, causing minimum damage.
Still, the poison’s effect proved incredible. The mob tried to go for us but collapsed halfway.
“170 hp per sec!”
I double-checked the arrows. The question marks were gone now.
A Poisoned Arrow. A unique item made by a Master Craftsman. Poisonous damage, 200 hp. The duration and value of repeated damage may vary depending on the target’s resistance.
“How many arrows do you think you can make?”
“Maybe a hundred,” Platinus replied.
“Why so few? I thought I gave you a couple of pints?”
“Well, some of it I used in my experiments. Besides, this formula is funny. You can’t just smear it over arrowheads. It seeps right in. We might reuse the arrows, I suppose, if we collect them up.”
Now I understood why our little experiment hadn’t run into any problems. Indeed, the game balance had remained unchanged — globally at least. There was no sap left. And while the existence of a hundred lethal arrows could put a certain particular player at a considerable advantage, that was the extent of it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a movement in the cliffs.
It was a wyvern nesting on a rocky ledge about a hundred and fifty feet away from us.
“Do you have any fire protection potions?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“I want you to drink one and go hide over there,” I pointed at a deep crevice nearby.
“Okay. What’re you up to?”
“I’ll try and shoot that wyvern over there.”
“Got it! I’m off!”
Platinus gulped a potion and disappeared from sight.
I took careful aim, loosed off an arrow and began to watch.
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The arrow pierced the wyvern’s neck. The creature showed no reaction, though. An icon depicting some sort of shield flashed momentarily over its head.
What a shame. Apparently, it was immune to Platinus’ toxin. A poisoned arrow at close range, and the wyvern didn’t even flinch as if it was a mosquito bite! It hadn’t even aggroed us!
“And? Have you killed her? Can I come out now?”
“Nope,” I said. “It’s got some sort of resistance. I suppose if I shot it in the eye it might work. After all, it’s not much different from the Mantis’ toxin. You’ve done a great job, anyway. Keep making those arrows. Try to make as many as you can.”
“Can’t you get some more sap?”
“Not at the moment. I might get some in the future. We’ll have to talk to Enea about it.”
“So what do we do now? Are we going back? Won’t we pick up the arrows first?”
“Yeah right! I don’t think so. I like those arrowheads but not enough to risk being ripped apart for them.”
“Imagine if someone finds them there one day! They won’t know what to think!”
“True. They’ll think it’s some kind of artifact,” I said.
This was a great invention, anyway. Finally we had something to meet the Harvesters with. A hundred arrows were enough to kill them in battle without letting them absorb more neurograms. All other poisons known to me offered 20 to 25 pt. damage max, and this was 200 — and they were reusable!
* * *
We came back feeling quite pleased with ourselves.
The mountain trail offered a gorgeous view of the lagoon. The sight of the foundered ships was still calling my name. I’d love to go there, if only to check out all the mysteries concealed within their hulls.
A barely discernible black line hovered on the horizon. It was the tower where the Reapers’ henchmen had captured Borisov. The raid was now very close to the canyon after which lay the shore. I hoped to be able to cross to the other island today and finally get to the mysterious tower.
“Alex? What are you thinking of?”
“Just trying to work out something,” I offered Platinus the scroll Christa had given me. A fresh eye can sometimes spot the solution to a problem.
“Why, what’s wrong here?” he asked.
“The numbers. They don’t seem to mean anything.”
“Oh yes, they do. They’re coordinates. As simple as that.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Only the map won’t accept them. I’ve tried several times. The map-making app doesn’t seem to recognize them, either. I even tried my Pioneer ability. Nope.”
He laughed. “Are you freakin’ serious?”
“Nothing to laugh at, man. This is an important message.”
“You seem to be forgetting the world isn’t limited to the Crystal Sphere. How about planet Earth, for crissakes?”
“Pardon me?”
“These are satnav coordinates. Latitude and longitude. You’re supposed to use a map of planet Earth, not flippin’ Crystal Sphere!”
Holy Jesus. Why hadn’t I thought about that myself? “Thanks, man. You’re a legend.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. And the columns of numbers that follow the coordinates look like some sort of command sequence. It might contain an access code to be automatically recognized by some device. Hard to tell which one, though. Did that help?”
“Absolutely! By the way, is your Logout button active?”
“Of course.”
“Do you use it?”
“Nah. What am I supposed to do in the real world? I’m quite happy here. I have my own lab and my freedom. Once we get rid of the Reapers, I’d like to do some traveling. White shared a secret with me. According to him, death isn’t that bad even at 100% authenticity. The trick is, you need to believe you can survive it. You need to remember your name and focus on your loved ones. Or if you don’t have any, as in my case, you need to focus on your dreams. Keep thinking about your main goal. He’s died many times and he’s still around.”
I pricked up my ears. White had never told me any of that. I’d love to know why. “What else did he tell you?”
“Nothing really. He popped by once to pick up some elixirs. So we got talking. He’s great.”
“He is indeed. Should we be going back now? Fancy having breakfast with us?”
“No, thanks. I’m gonna get some sleep,” he yawned. “I’ve made Grand Master in one night! Now I can use most of the ancient recipes. I don’t even know what I’m gonna do once I make the Unrivaled Master.”
“You can always level up Sorcerer,” I said in all seriousness.
We returned to the trail and headed for the portal.
* * *
Enea wasn’t at home. She’d had breakfast without me and left me a brief message,
I’m working on the Khmor grove and moving the guest portal. See you in the evening.
Strangely enough, White contacted me. “Where have you been?”
“Back on the Isles.”
“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” he sounded uncharacteristically anxious. “The Reapers are on the move. Last night they attacked Agrion again.”
“How about Warblerford?” I asked.
“Dietrich’s NPC army keeps pushing their way through the defense mechanisms. They’re getting closer to the river. They’ve managed to move their main camp out of the testing grounds. It might take them a few days to reach the river, if that.”
“You still think we should fight them there?”
“I do.”
“Very well. I’ll tell Archie and Iskandar to come back. I’ll also contact Allan and set up a meeting.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting for you by the village ford.”
In less than an hour, I met them by the inn in the deserted village.
The Ravens’ clan leader looked confused. It had only been a week since our duel but he’d already changed a lot. He was wearing a set of light but sturdy armor. He’d made ten levels in the meantime — a very impressive result. As soon as I’d returned home from the battle of Chaffinch Creek, I’d sent him a full report on the Reapers, stressing my need for allies in the looming battle.
“Alex,” Allan asked me straight up, “what’s with all the RVs in the field? Couldn’t you have invited us to your castle?”
“This is where we’re going to fight the Reapers,” White said matter-of-factly.
“Why?” Allan demanded. “I think it’s bullshit. To leave the safety of a fortress to fight an enemy in an open field? How stupid is that?”
“That isn’t bullshit,” White said calmly. “It’s cold calculation. For several reasons. The Reapers’ numbers grow with each passing day. If we retreat to Rion, they’ll attack us using their so-called ‘Dietrich’s army’ first, all those peasants and low-level mobs. They’ll exhaust our warriors and wizards, burn out the castle’s runic sequences and bring our defenses down to zero. Only then will they engage their main forces, nice and fresh. That’s exactly how the Disciples lost their battle in the past: by locking themselves in the castle. We can’t allow the Reapers to cross the river. We shouldn’t surrender a single inch of the moors without a fight. They must arrive at the castle completely exhausted!”
“That’s nonsense!” Allan snapped. “If they have magic, the river won’t stop them! And how do you want us to exhaust them? They’ll keep respawning, as simple as that!”
“Exactly,” White said calmly. He must have realized that this conversation was way too important to start venting our differences. “This is the only weak spot the Reapers have. Once killed, they don’t respawn. Their hybrid identities disintegrate, releasing the neurograms they were comprised of. Those neurograms either find a new NPC host or, if there’s no one suitable nearby, simply disperse and vanish forever.”
“But Alex,” Allan turned to me, “didn’t you say that Harvesters collect neurograms? Surely there won’t be a shortage of them on the battlefield!”
“I
’m sure there won’t,” I said. “Still, what White says makes sense. A hybrid identity takes time to grow. Once it falls apart, no amount of Harvesters can put it back together again. To all intents and purposes, once slain, Reapers will be as good as dead.”
“As will be many of our own who won’t survive the sensations of virtual death,” Alan grumbled. The memory of Chaffinch Creek must have still smarted.
“That’s why we’ll only pick the warriors who’ve already gone through it,” I replied. “Today we’re going to go online and make public all the information we have on the Reapers. I’m more than sure that other players will want to join us.”
That seemed to have cheered him up. “Do you mean those who’d already died and respawned at 100% authenticity? How about all the others? Craftsmen and such?”
“We’ll offer them protection in Rion.”
“From what we’ve heard, Dietrich has some supporters among players now. Aren’t you afraid of letting some turncoats into the castle?”
“Enea’s working on it now. We might actually avoid all this backstabbing. That’s all I can tell you, sorry.”
“So that’s where we’re going to fight them, then?” Allan looked around. “It makes sense, I agree. This way we can collect some logs and test our capacity.”
A new system message appeared in my interface,
Quest alert: The Enemy of My Enemy. Quest completed!
The Raven clan will join you in battle against the Reapers.
The Warbler’s other bank was consumed by subzero cold. Further up and down the current, the testing grounds defense programs kept incessantly modifying the terrain, attempting to close the breach between the two worlds’ adjacent locations.
“This position is excellent,” White pointed at the river’s steep bank on our side. “We’ll plant sharpened stakes all along the water’s edge. That way even if the Reapers freeze the river over, they’ll have a hard time trying to land. We too can use magic, can’t we, Alex?”
The Reapers (The Neuro 3) Page 17