I'll figure out how drinks work later. Something else got my attention.
"Pet Seed of the Novice"
Durability: 100/100
"Duplicator for the Novice"
Durability: 100/100
"S.W.E.A.T"
Durability: 50/50
The "Pet Seed" was, without a doubt, my future pet. It looked like a yellowish egg with black-speckles. Hard and cold like marble; it was the size of a fist. Awesome. What was this "Duplicator"? It was a round, strange thing the size of a grapefruit, with the same porous surface, but gray like a cobblestone. To the touch, it resembled resilient plastic. None of this helped me figure out what it was. "S.W.E.A.T" resembled something like a plastic cylinder, one and a half feet in length and half an inch in diameter. I grabbed it by the end and, after some hesitation, waved it vigorously a couple of times, imagining an invisible opponent in front of me. It looked like a sawn-off piece of a shovel handle, and weighed about six or seven pounds. It could probably used it as a club. However, it'd be smart to get a better weapon the first chance I get. Since Grant volunteered to be my mentor, he must have some extra weapons that could cause irreparable damage to someone's health. I suppose I could ask him about the rest of my gear, too.
As I was putting new clothes over my old ones, the shorts and the shirt looked a lot like underwear, so I might as well been parading in my undergarments so far, I was still mulling over Grant's offer. The guy seemed somewhat trustworthy, but man, did he smile too often. It was suspicious. Not to mention that I still knew very little about this place.
I looked myself in the mirror and a lean, about twenty-five years old guy of average height looked back at me. My face was pretty okay, it could have been worse. People wouldn't run away screaming if they saw me on the street. Smoke-gray eyes looked especially nice; I could make a good, steely gaze with little effort. The beard was cool too; a thin line of hair followed the contour of the cheekbones from the chin up to the temples. The rest was shaved clean, including the mustache. However, there was not a single hair on my head. Did "the real me" lack imagination, or had he just decided that the cue ball look would be more stylish? I somehow doubted that. Maybe that's why Foxy did not fancy me. Did she not like baldies?
However, the new clothes fit me like a second skin. Each kit was probably custom made to fit each newcomer. That's "Advanced Technology" for you. I stuck my thumbs into the belt hoops, puffed out my chest and straightened my shoulders. What a heroic pose. If they made an oil painting out of it, it'd be called: "The Gray-eyed Warrior Ready for Great Deeds."
Grant was yet to say something about the upcoming quest. Did he want to surprise me? Was he afraid that I'd get scared? I would not want to stumble into some kind of a trap, as it often happens to careless newbies. Refusing was impolite, of course, but to die ingloriously on the first day would make a cat laugh.
I still needed more info. There had to be a chat somewhere in the interface.
I did not find the chat but what I did notice was a flashing mail icon. Someone already wanted to make my day with a message. Without a second thought, I mentally clicked it. Not one, but two messages appeared. The first was from the administration.
"Greetings, Reborn! Congratulations on arriving to the "Universe ICS"! The world is counting on your future heroic accomplishments and there is hope that historians will write many glorious pages of the "Great Genesis Book" in your honor!
Note: You are in the main settlement, "Daisy", of the starting location "Wondergarden". Take care and get acquainted with the world!"
I minimized the message in disgust, but did not delete it. People who wrote such messages for beginners should be fired. They contained no useful info what so ever. Well, at least I knew the name of the location - "Wondergarden". Yeah, it fit well with "Daisy". The "Great Genesis Book" was probably the standard chronicle that contained info about the game world. The administration wrote all of the significant achievements into it.
The second message was from an unknown sender. Its contents baffled me at first, only to send chills down my spine once I was done reading it. With trembling fingers, I opened the message.
"First of all, I must congratulate you: death is at your heels.
Hopefully, that introduction got your attention. You are me. Rather, my physical embodiment in the game world of 'ICS'. Listen carefully, this is about your and, respectively, my safety. My mind is likely to be spoiled irrevocably if you manage to die your 'final death' in 'ICS'. The body, you know, cannot function properly without the mind. Do you understand what I'm getting at? I'm currently 'conditionally dead'. Existence in a coma can hardly be called life. You will have to work for both of us.
The bad news is that your killer was registered at the same time as you. I do not know who he is, so I can't help you. Remember one thing, however - he too, remembers nothing about himself or his target. But, sooner or later, he will find out, as he will receive a similar message. He does not know what you look like. Luckily, you will have a new name. However, he will have a description of your habits. You can give yourself out in one way: by behaving as you did in your previous life. Therefore, to lose your stalker and survive, you must become a completely different person.
Find someone you can trust.
Never stay alone. Look over your shoulder often. Always think about WHAT and HOW you speak and get out of the 'sandbox' as soon as possible. There, you are a sitting duck. After level ten, you can disappear in any of the many worlds of 'ICS' without a trace.
Good luck to both of us."
Having finished the letter, I minimized the page and took a deep breath, suppressing a nervous tremor.
I didn't feel so joyful any more.
God damnit, what did I sign up for? I should never stay alone and should find someone I could trust? At least I got that covered. Hesitating for a couple of more seconds, I made my decision and quickly gathered my things. I hung the flask onto my belt, threw the strap of the stuffed backpack over my shoulder, and left the room.
Onwards, to meet my destiny.
Chapter 3
"Training"
"In short, according to the local legend, all players are 'the Reborn'," Grant continued educating me while we briskly stomped through the village towards the place he wanted to show me. "We are the souls of heroes who died in the great ancient battle. The Gods have called on us to serve this world again and save it from the destructive 'Forces of Chaos'."
"As the new physical incarnation, 'avatars', fit into this legend perfectly." Walking beside him, I had a look around.
The world couldn't boast having either moon or stars. However, despite it being nighttime, there was enough light to distinguish all of the details. The sky itself was a light source, looking like milk spilled onto a dark glass. The little fairies living in the dense thickets on the sides of the road contributed to the luminescence. Scurrying between twigs and leaves in countless numbers, it was unclear what they were doing, but their lively scurrying seemed quite meaningful. Maybe they were excited by the weather. The smell of the incoming rain was in the air, and the little ones were, perhaps, preparing their homes for the storm. Maybe they were packing the leaves tighter. However, not a drop had fallen onto the paved road yet.
"So, there are Gods here," I said. "Can you say anything nice about them? I feel like I'll soon have to choose a patron, it would be nice to know in advance what's what…"
"Don't rush, Wise. Come with me." Grant easily ran up the mossy stone stairs to the top. "This hill is called the 'Seat of the Nine Worlds'. Have a look around. I have something interesting to tell you."
The top of the small hill, which was as flat as a pancake, was a stone-paved area about fifty feet in diameter. We had climbed up by one of the four stairs adjacent to the slopes from different sides. Although the hill wasn't all that high, only twenty feet, it had an excellent view. One could see the entire village, which turned out to be much smaller than I had thought. I counted only four buildings, all one-stor
ied, round, with flat roofs, and overgrown with bushes and twisted ivy. Why the hell was it called "Daisy"? It looked more like a "Clover" of some kind, judging by the number of "petals", that is, buildings. I also noticed that the settlement didn't look fortified as it had no walls, nor watchtowers. That seemed reasonable to me since it was a safe zone for beginners. No one expected it to be attacked.
"Grant, how many people live in the village?"
"There are thirty people in 'Daisy', not counting the admin representatives. As soon as someone hits level ten and leaves the 'sandbox', the 'Replicator' awakens another newbie. That's how things work here. It feels deserted because players are out doing quests The location is very extensive so you don't always have the opportunity to return to the village. People often spend the night where it catches them. You will see many of them when we start doing daily quests, so called 'dailies'. Now, enough questions. Switch the map to recording mode," Grant demanded.
''Map, recording mode on,'' I said in my mind. A bird-view, miniature copy of the terrain appeared in the previously empty window in the upper right corner.
Turning around, Grant started pointing out the locations. One by one, their names appeared on my map. "The 'Training Grounds', the 'Inn', the 'Replicator', and the 'Town Hall.' Got everything?"
"Yes."
"Their purpose, I think, is clear from their names. The outpost manager is called Esco. But it is better to call him respectfully, Mr. Esco or Mr. Curator, and avoid quarreling with the bastard. All newbies must introduce themselves to him on their first day. But there's plenty of time before we do that."
"And why is he a 'bastard'?" I asked.
"You'll find out. Moving on... Look there and record." Grant went to the center of the area and said: "Activate the portals."
Light broke out from the stone underneath my feet. The tiles turned almost transparent before floating away; expanding, they scattered around us. Astonished, I jumped to the side as a shining circle with clear boundaries formed at my feet. Looking up, I realized that there was more than one of them. One after another, they melted through the darkness, occupying the entire area on top of the "Seat" and forming a perfectly smooth necklace of eight burning "beads". In the center of it all, the ninth bead, Grant stood quietly, watching me with a kind of an unhealthy interest.
"You are a fan of theatrics, after all?" I asked, frowning slightly.
"You should have seen your face, Wise," Grant laughed merrily. "Don't worry, the activation will remain incomplete until you reach level ten. The portals will not let you through. Stinger once stunned me like this. I enjoyed it. It's especially beautiful at night."
"Yeah. And now you are the one impressing others. What's this? Some kind of a rookie initiation, huh? Where do these portals lead to...?"
"That's the best part, Wise bro. As you already know, you can only reach level ten in 'Wondergarden'. These portals are our near future and lead to other locations. More accurately, to nine of the countless worlds of 'Universe ICS'. Don't interrupt me, I'll list them. The one near you leads to the 'Free Plains'. The other locations are: 'Tree of Life', 'Steppes of Rage', 'Reed World', 'Cradle of the Gods', 'Cape Fear', 'Moonshadow Valley', and the 'City of Boxwood'. Feel the moment."
"Consider it felt," I nodded. "Sounds nice. Intriguing. Fascinating, even. As an idea, that is. But you mentioned 'countless worlds'. Were you exaggerating, or…?"
"Everything is both simple and complex at the same time. Here, there is no system help, and the admins, or, as locals call them, the 'Caretakers', keep quiet, carrying out only their duty of keeping the order. I suspect that they don't know everything themselves. They say that this knowledge is unnecessary for the system to function. Generally, the only information sharing happens between the players. The consensus is that there's a hell of a lot of these worlds. Maybe hundreds or even thousands. I suggest not worrying about that now. We'll know for sure once we get out of here."
"Hold on. That ninth portal that you're standing in... What's it called? I feel it's something special since it's in the middle."
"Officially, the 'Inferno'. Unofficially, the 'Asshole'. I won't tell you why, Wise. Your time has run out."
Player Grant offers his mentorship.
Accept: yes / no?
"Can I refuse at any time?" I asked, just in case.
"Wow, you sure are something! I spent half an hour trying to persuade you, and you're still not committing…"
"What were you expecting?" I asked with a shrug. "I have to get used to this place first. I sure as hell don't like taking any chances."
"Damn it, here we go." Looking off to the side, Grant cursed into his beard. "We got company."
I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A stranger had ran up the stairs leading from the direction of the "Town Hall". Confidently, he moved towards us, giving us an attentive, appraising look. I didn't like it at all. Blackened chainmail shirt with long sleeves sat well on the strong, broad-shouldered figure, and the gaiters, fastened with straps over thick leather pants, shone with polished steel. His right hand, clad in a chainmail gauntlet, casually supported the handle of a long warhammer propped against his shoulder. Overall, he seemed respectable. I squinted as I watched him stomp towards me, indifferent yet haughty, metal jingling with every step. The system provided me with a brief note.
Player: Cavalier
Level 9
Race: human
Class: cleric
Clan: "Reed Cats"
The cleric stopped two steps away from us, grasped the hammer's formidable handle with both hands and dropped its head onto the stone slab at his feet. The clangorous strike sent sparks flying. They did love being dramatic here. In that moment I realized what was missing from Grant's name – the name of a clan. He was by himself. I didn't like making hasty decisions either. To join a clan without knowing the group politics or the game mechanics would be unwise. But he was level seven and on his own. Why? It was suspicious.
"Novice Wisecracker," Cavalier addressed me solemnly "I'm the vice clan master of the 'Reed Cats', one of the leading clans, originating in the 'sandbox'…"
"Cavalier, we had a deal," Grant angrily interrupted the cleric. "Both 'Cats' and 'Children' promised that I would be able to choose a newcomer on the first day without interference!"
"It was not I who broke the agreement," the cleric stared at Grant, displeased. "Address your complaints to Alice. That treacherous bitch took the others. There's nothing left for the 'Cats'. Do not intervene. So," he turned back to me, glaring, "novice Wisecracker, I officially invite you to join our ranks. What say you?"
"That curiosity can kill a cat." I struggled to put on a polite smile, trying to show that neither his level nor his outfit, or even his position, impressed me. Hopefully, I managed. I had no clue what all the fuss around the newcomers was, but I didn't like it. I didn't plan on joining anyone without finding out what's what. The cleric's attitude didn't sit well with me, either.
"I advise you not to be rude and give it another thought," Cavalier said in a threatening voice. "While you don't have a mentor, you can refuse the offer to join the clan three times. After that, you will join on our terms, not on general ones. I'll ask you again tomorrow."
If Grant's offer could keep me from this type of company, that alone was reason enough to accept it. The message with the mentorship offer was still in the system window. I clicked "yes". The note blinked and changed into the following:
"Congratulations! You are now player Grant's mentee! Experience gained when defeating opponents is increased by 5%!"
The move did not go unnoticed. The cleric immediately got bored and looked at me as if I was already dead.
"It's your funeral. You made your choice."
"What do you mean by that?"
Not gracing me with an answer, Cavalier threw the hammer onto his shoulder with a single mighty move, abruptly turned around and stomped down the stairs. Looking at his back, I suddenly felt my heart beating faster, as if I ha
d just evaded a good fight. Grant, too, looked alarmed and extremely upset. He wasn't smiling anymore. Catching my questioning gaze, he sighed.
"Alice is overdue for the 'Inferno' already…"
"Aren't you going to explain me what's going on?"
"Business first, questions later, okay? It's time to find out what your class is."
Finally, something interesting was going on! The whole 'newbie' issue was immediately put on hold.
Player Grant invites you to join his party.
Accept: yes / no?
"Click 'yes'. Mentoring is useless without a party," muttered Grant as he made his way to the stairs.
This Cavalier guy really spoiled his mood. I accepted the request, and the "helpful" system immediately told me the obvious - I was now a member of Grant's party and he had the right to distribute the loot. We will see how fairly he would do it. However, there was nothing to share just yet.
From the top of the "Seat" we went down another set of stairs. After a minute, having passed through a long stone-paved walkway lined with the same glowing bushes with fairies, we entered a building called "Training Grounds". It was a spacious cylindrical structure made of grayish-pink marble, a hundred feet in diameter and about fifteen feet high, illuminated from the inside by numerous torches fixed on the walls at regular intervals. Placed between the torches were weapons racks, filled with numerous tools forged with the sole purpose of spilling the blood, or in this case, shortening the HP bar, of fellow men. Reflected in the razor sharp blades, the flames danced merrily. I managed to recognize a couple of weapons, like the spear, the halberd and the axe, but there were some whose names I did not know. Dazzled by such an abundance of weapons, I couldn't contain myself. The moment we stepped through the doorway I rushed to the nearest weapon rack, eager to try everything for myself.
Grant, correctly interpreting my intentions, grabbed my shoulder with unexpected strength, probably due to being level seven, and forced me to a halt. It felt like I got caught onto an iron hook.
"Hold on, Wise. You can't touch anything. Otherwise, you won't get what we need."
Soulcatcher Page 3