"By the way, congratulations on leveling up," he added before running down the stairs, leaving me alone.
What did he mean?
I could hardly focus on my stats. I had no idea how I had managed to miss it, but I was level four and on my way to reaching level five. My emotions were probably delayed from shock as I didn't feel as joyful about it as I thought I would. Having nothing else to do, I studied what I got and even tried to distribute the free points. Giving it another thought, I decided to do it later. In this state, I could easily make a mistake.
And then sleep sneaked up on me…
***
I pulled myself up, climbing a branch higher.
Climbing the thick branches of the old pine was easy. They didn't block the view, either. I breathed in the tart smell of pine needles and tar, dry bark cracked and crumbled under my fingers.
Gotcha!
There were still a couple of miles between us and our goal, which stood at the end of the gently sloping valley, obscured by the dense coniferous forest. The sun sparkled on the surface of a wide river called "the Affluent", in the middle of which was a sizeable unnamed island. On that island was "The Temple of the Reborn", a tall building made of white marble, surrounded by massive columns. Grant told me that the coast and the island were connected by a ferriage, but I couldn't see the ferry from where I stood as the tree tops obscured my view.
That was fine. We'll figure it out when we get there.
From this height I could spot a small clearing about fifty yards away from us, surrounded from all sides by dense thickets. Had we moved in that direction, we would have been in trouble. A strange creature, slightly smaller than the "Turtangle", lay dormant on the sun-warmed flat boulder.
"Direcat"
Level 10
HP: 850
Wow, what a "cutiepie"! A crown with four spikes burned above the name of the beast indicating that it was a class higher than the "Turtangle". The beast looked like a big, ash-gray cat. It was hard to estimate its actual size as it was curled up, covering its head with its paws and a white tipped, long, bushy tail.
The fairy, buzzing with its translucent firefly wings near my shoulder, and I exchanged a look. No bigger than my palm, the fey smiled and nodded her golden-haired head towards the "Direcat". Now, in the light of day, I managed to have a better look at the winged creature. With a tiny, upturned nose, plump red lips, and cornflower-blue eyes disproportionately large for such a small face, she was a replica of her domesticated sisters from "Daisy". Like them, she wore something akin to a toga made out of her own hair, which reached to her feet and was tied around her waist with a golden thread. "Treexie", no level or health and mana bars. Did that mean that hunting them yielded no experience? Personally, I wouldn't have the heart to harm these babies, as there was enough of other game for leveling.
The fey was the one who hinted me what to look at. Not that I understood their mosquito-like buzzing. The little one just waved her hand in front of my face, inviting me to follow her. I had to climb a tree. I wondered why the fey had even shown me that beast. Was she warning me about the danger out of the goodness of her heart? Or was this some sort of a hidden quest?
I sighed, and cast another glance at the woods from the high "perch".
A warm, pleasant breeze gently caressed the healing scratches on my face. The blue sky was permeated with reddish-yellow sun rays; fresh air, rich with herbal aromas, rustled the emerald green foliage.
It was a beautiful world. One could just live in it had it not been for this race with levels and days. At least, I was progressing at a good pace - almost level five in less than a day. If things went well, I'd get to the dungeon long before the end of the deadline. If I could get a few days off, I would go on a short vacation. Shit. I kept forgetting about the damn letter. There would be no peace while I was here.
Two hours passed since we left the "Source", but I could still feel on my back the menacing look with which Sarge had "seen us out". I still couldn't ask about what the hell had happened there and why was the "Children's" warrior so mad at Grant. I still couldn't say a word, which was very annoying and disturbing. Grant seemed to be inclined to talk about anything but what really interested me. Some kind of a lousy chat interface wouldn't hurt, but we wouldn't get one until level ten. Okay, at least I felt pretty good; the sword in my hand wasn't shaking anymore.
In fact, the clansmen threw us out. And with good reason.
"Mark of the Damned"
Health, energy and mana regeneration are slowed down by 50%; damage done to the minions of 'the Destroyer' is reduced by 100%; and your total damage is reduced by 50%. Under the influence of the 'Mark of the Damned' you become the primary target for all the minions of 'the Destroyer'. All nearby allies temporarily receive the same debuff.
I was utterly fucked by that situation at the outpost.
Although, as it turned out, it was Sarge who had landed the fatal blow to the "Master of the Ritual". The damn elf had chosen me as his target, since I was breathing my last then and the curse choose the weakest. With such a "gift" anyone could become a burden for the rest of the defenders. No one present was able to remove the curse as there were no such spells at such low levels.
Even Grant's "Nature's Purification" which should, theoretically, remove the effects of decease, poison or curse, failed. The only way to remove it was to get to the "Temple of the Reborn" and ask the acolytes for help. Or I could just die and the curse would be lifted by itself.
The second option, of course, did not suit me. Unsurprisingly, we were asked, politely but firmly, to walk away from the "Source", so that I do not attract new enemies. Luckily for them, our departure did not threaten to disrupt the "Guardian of the Source" quest. The stronger the wave, the longer the pause between them was. The rest of the shift would be held without us. On a more positive note, we managed to complete the secondary quest - "to kill twenty minions of 'the Destroyer'". Now I just had to wait a few hours before visiting Mr. Esco in "Daisy" with a report on having successfully done it. I had heard so much about this person and I really couldn't wait to meet him. People tend to exaggerate their impressions; I wanted to evaluate him for myself.
Level four did not please me as much as I expected it would. Yes, yes, I was a hopeless dreamer, wistfully wishing for ranged attacks, although I understood they wouldn't be the solution for my problems. But, putting the only received skill point into "Elemental Precision", now rank 3 and ignoring 6% of target's resistance, got me only a new passive.
"Wind's breath"
Protective aura
Rank 1
Increases evasion by 3% and movement speed by 10%.
Duration: 1h
Cooldown: 1h
"Shield of the Novice" had naturally dropped to 60% of incoming damage absorption. Before distributing stat points this time, I hesitated between strength and agility. Results of the battle at the "Source" made me realize that I'd been lacking in agility. I remembered a couple of moments when I had to dodge the attack, but didn't manage. In the case of the warrior class, a point of agility equaled to half a point of a physical attack, 0.1% dodge chance and 0.1% chance of a critical hit with physical attacks. A point of strength, the main warrior stat, gave 0.9 point of a physical attack and 0.1% chance to parry. Strength increased the amount of damage dealt, but it didn't help protect me from ranged attacks. In the end, I decided to just wait and see how things turn out. I needed to accumulate more free points. Then I would determine where to put them.
I wondered how all this correlated with my body. There was definitely a connection with it. Every time I added stats, a seemingly invisible restructuring took place, adjusting my physical abilities to fit the game stats.
We also didn't get any loot from more than four dozen mobs. Not because the clansmen had taken it all, no. Those were the local gaming features. Judging by Grant's explanation, one could loot something decent from "the Destroyer's" forces only in the dungeon close to the "Twisted Source".
Here on the surface, our enemies' weapons and armor crumbled to dust along with their bodies after their death.
We abandoned the dirt road as soon as we moved west from the "Source", time was of the essence, so we focused on leveling in the woods. We moved towards the "Temple", following the direction Grant had marked on the map. For two hours we wandered the intricate wooden paths, like a couple of drunken ruffians, looking for packs of wild boars.
Hunting awarded two dozen soul crystals and the same amount of meat, each piece weighing about 4 ounces. Dried. No joke. The meat the bodies dropped after dissipating was ready for use. In all honesty, I would have rather thrown away the salty pieces of meat had it not been for the threat of starvation. Also, my "gathering" skill was now rank 1 (24/100), but the chance of looting and finding items with increased useful properties had remained at 5%. Nice, but I had not yet seen anything besides meat and crystals. We were probably hunting the wrong animals.
Before climbing down, I tossed another glance around the neighborhood and, not noticing anything disturbing, hopped from branch to branch until I got to the ground.
Lying in the grass, hands under his head, my mentor rested; eyes closed, a blade of grass twitching in the corner of his mouth, his staff and bag lying next to him. An idyll. However, something had seriously changed in me after the battle, and I no longer felt like I could trust Grant. Everything he said provoked vague irritation, the causes of which I couldn't understand. As soon as my mind clears up, I will find it out.
I turned in the direction of a loud, crunching sound.
Grant had managed to name the "Turtangle" when he got convinced that its appetite was something to be admired. Such a large mass, after all, had large needs. But Glutton was worth it. He "aggroed" "Warthogs" so valiantly, it was a marvel to look at. Right after being named, the "Turtangle" received a great bonus – plus 5% to its already considerable defense.
Unfortunately, I missed Glutton's "debut" near the "Source". But I could truly appreciate its extra talents, quite interesting and useful for leveling, while hunting for wild boars. In accordance with the crown with three spikes above the pet's name, it turned out to have exactly three skills: "Ultimate Shield", which granted it three seconds of complete invulnerability to both physical and magical damage; "Sticky Grip", which glued anything to its saliva spits for five seconds; and "Ramming Charge", a three second rush which increased its speed and generated mad "aggro".
"Glutton" settled near the half-eaten bush, and flopped onto its bone belly. Pushing each other away, several fairies hovered excitedly around the "tank" pet, trying to cram handfuls of leaves and branches into both of the animal's mouths. Those tiny things naturally liked to take care of forest animals tamed by players. The "Turtangle" gladly accepted the treats, grinding with ease not only branches, but also thorns, with sharp cutting edges of the horn plates it had instead of teeth. If we stay here the bush will have a rough time and the fairies will have to find a new home. However, they seemed to be so enthusiastic about the process that they couldn't be bothered to think about the consequences.
Something buzzed next to my ear and the "Treexie" flew up to me again, gaining my attention. I wondered if it was the same one that had showed me the "Direcat". Opening her small mouth, the tiny thing squeaked something inaudible.
Quest available: "A moment of Peace."
The "Treexies" ask you to clear their ritual clearing from a wandering beast.
Quest conditions: the beast mustn't die.
Reward: 5,000 XP
Accept quest: yes / no?
The indignation took my breath away. Mustn't die? Was that some kind of joke or what? How could one possibly drive away a level ten beast? Scare it away? With what? My bare ass? It was unlikely that such a creature would get frightened by our levels and skills.
"Don't even think about it," Grant warned without opening his eyes. "All members of the party can see the offered quests. And this is a crazy one. The soporific the fairies give you will put the 'Direcat' to sleep. But as soon as you get the beast beyond the magical clearing, it will awaken. You have no idea what kind of monster that thing is. It's something like a were-beast, a cross between a panther and a porcupine that can shred you to pieces with its poisoned needles faster than you can say 'oh'. I personally knew three guys which tried to fulfill this task together. They appeared in the 'Replicator' after ten seconds, and vowed never to experiment again. It is better to gain experience slowly, but surely, without losing the saves.
Just this single quest is worth a level for me!
I tried to express my disagreement. I was getting real damn tired of this inability to speak normally. It was driving me crazy.
"Nah, forget it, Wise," Grant rose from the grass, unconsciously shaking litter from his clothes. "Glutton can't help with the 'Direcat'. Why risk it? While the 'Mark of The Destroyer' is on you, we are not take gambles."
I froze. I kept forgetting about the debuff. It was such a pity to just squander away so much XP. But then I got an idea…
"What are you smiling about?" Grant asked suspiciously as he picked up his backpack and staff. "I told you that we can't do this quest. Let's go. Boars are waiting for us."
Waiting, yeah. Trembling with impatience, I bet. I had to keep my skepticism to myself, however. At the mage's sign, Glutton rose. With obvious regret in its eyes, gleaming like plums set deep in the armored eye sockets; the "Turtangle" left the pleasant company of the hospitable forest hostesses and rushed into the woods. The "Treexies" buzzed excitedly as they watched it go. Haven't they stuffed the entire forest into it yet? The fairy that had tried to give me an impossible quest flew up to my face and chirped something angrily. Feeling guilty, I shrugged. Sorry, tiny, we couldn't afford it yet.
Smiling thoughtfully, I followed Grant.
I had a pet candidate in mind. As soon as we completed the second stage of the "Loyal Friend", I would give the "Direcat" another visit. Solid experience and a mighty pet in one. It would require some planning, provided that it was possible at all. However, it could be amazing.
Chapter 10
"The pier"
An hour later we were no more than a hundred yards away from the "Affluent's" shores; the pier could already be seen through the trees. From somewhere nearby came a crackling sound followed by heavy stomping.
Throwing away an armful of firewood which Grant and I had collected with the intention of making a signal fire, I routinely grabbed my sword. Something massive was running in our direction, ramming through the thickets. Branches and leaves flew up, clearly indicating the path of the unknown enemy, for whom, it seemed, no obstacles existed. It was coming at us in a straight line. A thick pine tree shuddered and tipped over with a groan, showering us with needles. A crow flew up from it with an indignant caw.
To be honest, the impressive force that was coming at us was somewhat scary looking. My mentor and I, however, exchanged understanding smiles and simultaneously looked at Glutton.
Having munched another branch, it could devour the whole forest if left alone, the "Turtangle" cautiously stepped forward. An ignorant onlooker might deem the "tank" pet deceptively slow. However, it wasn't a good idea to underestimate its rapid dashes.
And that's when the enemy finally emerged.
Parting the last bushes, an impressive body emerged on top of the hill and froze for a second, looking around.
"Dire Warthog"
Level 6
HP: 450
Man, was I glad to see it! The boar was a sight for sore eyes! There were no crowns over its name; it was a simple and fat mob, four feet at the withers, and at least six feet long. Its dense, massive body was covered with thick, black-brown bristles with yellowish markings; bumpy, bone armor stretched along its spine, and a dirty pink snout the size of a frying pan adorned its ugly mug. It had two pairs of tusks on both sides its snout each a foot and a half in length and as thick as the base of my bicep.
Had Daddy Boar sworn to avenge his whole family?
To check my condition I no longer needed to look at the interface as I had learned to feel it intuitively. Both auras, "Tempest Blade" and "Breath of the Wind", were still active so no renewal was needed. So I just stood there, waiting to play my part. Our group fights, after more than three hours of "testing", were reduced to an accurate scheme of "one-two-three" - distraction, showstopper, and the finishing blow. That the boar was bigger than the usual mobs was of no importance as Glutton was like a stone wall for us.
"Another canned pork has arrived," Grant snorted, not particularly concerned.
I nodded, eyeing the beast with a careful look.
Clearly having heard the insult, Mr. McPork moved his long, pointy ears. Sharply, he turned his mighty snout, and stared at the mage with its beady eyes, which emanated a greenish, zombie-like glow. Having locked onto its target, the "Warthog" let out a deafening roar and rushed towards us, moving its short, thick legs with amazing speed. As if plowed, clouds of turf sprayed from under the mighty hooves. The ground beneath my boots trembled.
Cheerfully speeding towards the "Warthog", our "combat platform" drew its heads under its shell just a moment before the collision.
The earth shook.
The rainbow colored "Ultimate Shield" formed around Glutton, completely blocking the damage; the boar, with its snout cut by the edge of the shell, got turned sideways by the blow. Its HP bar sank a quarter, and blood gushed from the bone deep wounds. The rest of the fight was a piece of cake. The "Turtangle" moved to the side and spat with both mouths. Hundreds of transparent stringy threads of saliva entangled the boar's front legs and instantly turned elastic. Grunting angrily, the "Warthog" thrust his snout into the grass and fell to the side. Using the delay, Grant, with a well-practiced move, cast the "Life-giving Trap" on it, and the body of the unfortunate avenger was entrapped in shoots of poisonous vine, forcing it to freeze for a few more seconds.
A few quick steps and I was close...
I aimed my sword at the throat covered in bristled fur. A feral scream was followed by another blow. Blood spouted from the punctured jugular. Jumping aside, I watched, with some regret, as the body of the beast shook, eyes dimmed, and it parted with its life.
Soulcatcher Page 12