Soulcatcher

by Sergey Zaytsev

  This false sense of freedom of choice sucked, to put it mildly. That's why I didn't go to the "Temple" when I had the chance. I abstained. But Foxy and Owl went...and got nothing. None of the countless deities of the "U-ICS" were interested in them. Whether they hadn't risen to the desired level yet, or the Gods had a day-off, or for whatever other reason, the initiation did not take place.

  The priests, too, were silent as church mice about the matter- the taciturn types, the lot of them.

  During the time spent on the island, none of us had a chance to hear them say a word. Silent, narrow-eyed and dark-faced people in sun-yellow robes, they had all looked alike, as if they were brothers. No level, no name, no specialization, just plain and simple - "Priest of the Temple of Rebirth". They scurried around the island busily, watering the neat gardens, and planting carrots, cabbage, beets and other agricultural treasures. They healed travelers who needed help and prayed in the "Temple", all the while remaining silent. Whether they had a vow of silence, were just born mute, or had been forbidden to talk to the uninitiated was unknown.

  Well, who cared about that anyway? So, Pops had gotten the "Lash of Pain" from his deity as a bonus to his Inquisitor specialization. The spell was really handy during our fight with the "Dire Bonechewer". It was one hell of a fight…

  The furster jerked, frightened, interrupting my thoughts.

  A pebble flew away from the hooves and cluttered loudly on its way down into the abyss. I stroked the animal's warm, shaggy muzzle in order to calm it down. Taking a sip of regular water from the spare flask, which I had managed to acquire, I moved on without waiting for a disgruntled shout from Gramps.

  When the "Bonechewer" crawled out of the hole, I was certain that we were screwed, although we had a level nine cleric with us. The beast was much bigger than the young one! I felt shivers whenever I remembered it. With a mighty leap, it emerged from the darkness of the hole, and immediately charged at Cavalier. The monster did not need to stop and examine its opponent, its sense of smell and hearing allowed it to do that from the comfort of its hole. Outstretching its greedy paws, armed with monstrous claws, and with its huge jaws opened, revealing a stockade of sharp fangs, it threw its heavy, muscular body into the air. Its narrow eyes shone under the massive brow, viciously glaring at the cleric.

  I shivered and shook my head, driving away the thoughts. The path swerved again, widening slightly, and the chasm narrowed and grew smaller. The fog receded, exposing the tooth-like stones at the bottom, and the adjacent mountain slope got closer. The wind, however, got stronger, and got under my jacket, causing my skin to crawl from the cold.

  I was already regretting throwing away the leftover, tattered clothes from my first death. If I still had them I could put them on and feel much warmer. Or I could have borrowed them to Foxy as I was cold just looking at her. Dressed in a shirt and a vest, she made me want to wrap her up into something warmer. But the girl did not complain. Riding along confidently, she did not show that the wind caused her any inconvenience. I'll have to ask if rogues had some sort of a protection aura that shielded them from the weather. However, I felt my body gradually adapting, the discomfort retreating, and blood becoming warmer than before.

  "Conditioned"

  Rank 1 (1/100)

  Cold resistance increased by 5%.

  And there was the answer to my question.

  The fight against the "Bonechewer" turned into a bloody clash within a few seconds. Having taken the role of the "tank", only Cavalier remained standing, cheek torn, and chest riddled with deep claw marks. The "Bonechewer" almost managed to break through the dense weaving of the chain mail. However, Cavelier killed the creature eventually, shattering its skull with his warhammer. Once we had smeared ourselves with the "Tincture", he additionally healed us with the only healing spell of his guardian-cleric spec, increasing the regeneration of all wounds.

  To hell with that. It was better not to fill one's head with memories, but to think about more pressing matters. For example, the thousand points of experience and the trophy. When the "Bonechewer's" corpse was dispelled, what remained on the ground were an elite "soc" and a "Common Ring of Might" which increased strength and physical damage by 5%. Cavalier took the crystal, generously forgiving the remaining debt made on the eve of our union, and gave me the ring as it fit my class. Neither Owl nor Pops objected, although they did not hide their disappointment. However, the ring was almost useless to them.

  And then, having said goodbye to Cavalier and Pops, Owl and I went in search of Grant.

  And we found him.

  A half an hour long journey that led through the forest and along the river bank got us to the already familiar pier. At least Alice wasn't lying. Once near the fire pit, I jumped off the furster and walked around. No sign of Grant and me from last night. Our things were gone too. I certainly didn't expect Grant to be hanging around here all this time. Utterly frustrated, I kicked the blackened embers. I was pissed off about the lost "socs" and the time wasted grinding for them. All of that could, however, be gained in a matter of couple of hours. But the "Duplicator" and the "Seed" were a serious loss which undermined my fighting ability in the future. I really wanted a bound pet like Glutton, and now I had lost that opportunity.

  "Owl, that night, were there any newcomers from the ‘Replicator'?"

  "Yup," said Owl. He got off his horse and rubbed his bony butt with a painful grimace. "Cavalier got two, and Alice one."

  "Any newly-made clers among them? I remember when you took Gramps here the first night."

  "No. Newbs didn't do this," assured the mage, realizing what I was getting at. "Grant himself could have taken your stuff."

  "I hope so," I nodded. "Else I'd have to look for the thief. I'm just exploring scenarios."

  I've already figured out that the "Duplicator" and the "Seed" were soulbound, too, but only partially. That is, although they were not recreated in the "Replicator" with the player, no one else could use them. Unless they wanted to return it in an exchange for a reward, all hell could break loose. Let's take, for an example, dishonest elder players taking away newbies' unique items. Killing was not necessary to achieve this, just brute force and level advantage. The "Seed" was problematic to use outside of the quest, and nothing good would come out of it. An extra "Duplicator", however, was a different story. Therefore, the mechanics of the game prevented this possibility. Although, there were players who would harm just because they could. For example, they could throw the unique items into the river or the abyss and force the newbies to go there and try to find them.

  But Owl's remark made my thoughts flow in another direction.

  Before going to "Daisy" with Pops, Cavalier assured me that Grant hadn't appeared in the village, nor had anyone seen him near the "Outposts", or generally anywhere else since yesterday evening. And if we assume that Grant was alive, and had taken my things, then where could he be? That's right. I stared across the river, in the direction of the island, at the alabaster walls of the "Temple". Grant did manage to ring the bell, and the priests could have come after the servants of "the Destroyer" who had chased me into the water. Meaning…

  "Maybe Alice managed to pick it up," gasped Owl. "She's like that, she can do that."

  "Bite your tongue. No, Owl, if she were here, she would have shown up by now. For her sake I hope she is in the village, drowning her grudges in beer. She knows she won't manage to trick me twice. She has no hopes for revenge."

  "Or maybe she's gathering clanmates to find you and beat the crap out of you," with a grim expression suggested the mage.

  "Not 'me', but 'us'. The location is big, she won't do it any time soon," I chuckled. "And not everyone will agree to fulfill her every whim."

  "Sarge would agree," Owl sat near the water, rinsed his face, and snorted.

  Damn, he loves to be the voice of doom. Apparently, he was one of those guys whose glass was always half-empty. The expression of the eternal dissatisfaction almost never left his thin fac
e, and he easily found any excuse to consider himself wronged. Not that he had a choice in choosing his allies. ''He didn't join me in that fight against Alice back then, but at least he didn't help her beat the shit outta me either. There was something good in his soul, and that was enough for me right now.

  The fact that Owl was constantly grumbling mattered little. It was just a defense mechanism, after all. He was probably often criticized for his unpresentable appearance and indecisive character in the "real" life, and that had hardened him. He may not remember it, but something must have remained in the subconsciousness, as we were all were still ourselves here. It would be nice to reach out to him, and assure him that I am not his enemy. One could never have too much trust. Good way to begin would be through simple conversation, as we had exchanged just a couple of phrases on our way to here.

  "Sarge is in the dungeon, we have nothing to worry about for now," I shrugged and firmly said: "And if there is - we'll manage. Alice will most likely not dare do anything without him. It's not like she has much of her own supporters. Let's do this, you collect firewood and kindle the fire. We'll call the priests. It's worth looking for Grant on the island."

  "Collect kindle... Look at you, ordering about," muttered the weathermage, more out of habit than anything else. "What are you going to do?"

  "I need to hit the shore, my corpse should be nearby."

  Owl's face changed slightly changed its color. He was a walking paradox. He carried himself with bravery in combat, fighting as if every battle could be his last. How much courage does one need to overcome such a desperate fear of death?

  "Do you want to come with me maybe?"

  "No, no, I'm good here," the weathermage hastily shook the shaggy head on the skinny neck. "Go wherever you want."

  A thought occurred to me.

  "By the way, who was your mentor?"

  "Naturally, he was," Owl wiped his face with the robe's sleeve and somehow forced a smile. "Sarge. I just couldn't wait to get rid of his mentorship. A totally…volatile man, he was. He rushed headlong into every fight. I almost died because of him. Twice. At least."

  I shook my head sympathetically, understanding from whom he had picked up his valor, but not the character.

  "Look, be a nice guy and stall the priests if they get here before I do, okay?"

  Owl nodded and reached into his backpack. I was about to jump onto the furster and go looking for my gear, but stopped and stared in surprise at what he had pulled from the backpack and gently lowered onto the grass.

  Pet "Flea"

  Owner: player "Owl"

  Species: Fangore (puppy)

  Level 1

  HP: 50

  Once in the grass, the "Fangore" cub snorted unhappily. It was a tiny creature the color of sand with black markings on the sides and about as big both of my fists. It opened its black, button like eyes, and tried to bite its owner's finger, but did not succeed. Curling into a ball, it tried regaining some of the sense of the warm comfort that it had felt in the backpack.

  "What miracle is this, Owl? And why…?"

  "If you ask ‘why so small', I'll break your face, Wise," Owl looked at me askance, preparing to get offended in advance if I continue pursuing this particular topic. However, to his misfortune, the topic was very interesting to me, so I tried to be tactful.

  "Calm down, Owl. After all, I know less about this than you do. Be a friend, give me the details. Is this what a failed taming looks like?"

  I remembered Grant telling me that failing the taming conditions leads to stat reset and weight reduction of the tamable creatures, but I wanted to hear Owl out. There's no such thing as an excess of information, and he might tell me something useful.

  "Yeah," mage markedly thawed out. He gently stroked the creature's silky fur with his fingertips, his eyes downright shining with care. "The same thing happened to Sarge. I got a puppy instead of a ‘Fangore', and he got a small piglet instead of a fully grown ‘Warthog'. Pets, like your Glutton, are a rarity."

  "Or rather, taming a pet successfully is a rarity, you mean."

  "Well, yes," the mage jerked his chin in the direction of the "Fangore". "Sarge said that raising a pet takes anywhere from two to six weeks, depending on the type of the pet. When the pet reaches its full strength, it will begin to gain adult levels and its abilities will appear. Until then, its crown icon is useless. Dies easily, any mob can one-shot it."

  The crown next to the puppy's name was a formidable one, with three prongs, just like Glutton's.

  "That's why you carry it in your bag?"

  "Yeah. I'm not the only one. Weren't you paying attention? Haven't you seen that there are no animals running along with the players? It's because the little ones are carried in bags and only released when it's time to feed and walk them. You can, of course, leave them in the ‘Stables' for a day and pay a fee for it. However, it grows faster if you carry it with you. Contact is important. Too bad I won't be able to take it to the dungeon, as it doesn't have enough time to grow. Any mob could kill it and it can't really do anything. A puppy is a puppy," Owl sighed and guiltily stroked the "Fangore" cub's head, as if begging him for forgiveness. "I still can't get used to it, I forget it's behind me. I remembered about it during the fight with the ‘Bonechewer' and was afraid that I would fall down and squish it. It didn't even wake up during the fight. The little ones sleep most of the time. Well, at least feeding them is not a problem, the meat from mobs does the trick."

  "Won't it eat all your supplies in the backpack?"

  "Nah," the boy smiled uncertainly as if he'd forgotten how it's generally done, and was now trained all over again. "Pet's sleep mode turns on by itself when they're in the backpack. Also, there's a separate pocket for the meat, as I myself have to chew on something."

  Well, it seemed as if he had really opened up, talking so much. That was a beginning.

  "And what went wrong with taming? I'm asking because I will soon have to do it, too…"

  "It was my fault. I rushed and interrupted the meditation," Owl waved, again a bit gloomily. "You should have seen this thing. It was not one of the 'Fangores' that run along with the minions, this was a cave one. A ‘Dire'. It was all going so well, they butchered all of the representatives of the elements. And then, when this douchebag started coming towards me... my nerves gave way. Or maybe it was my habit of attacking anything that attacks me that failed m. Naturally, I fought back. The ‘Seed' fired the hooks ahead of time, and barely reached it. In general, I got what I got. Instead of an adult assistant, it's a limited use pet. This is still not the worst option, as some have no pets at all. Rumor has it that getting a decent pet in the elder locations is almost impossible. So, a pet like this one is good, too. A foundation for the future, if you will."

  "It dies three times and the whole foundation crumbles," I chuckled skeptically. "You'd better take good care of it. It's a cute one, your ‘Fangore'. I'm sure it'll grow into a good assistant."

  "Yeah," Owl smiled again and shook his head. "You don't quite understand, Wise. The most important thing is to do the taming correctly. Nothing else matters. Even if the pet's own saves are gone, the owner can donate his save to resurrect the pet. The possibility of acquiring saves in the elder locations is much higher than it is here."

  "This is all really interesting." Now I wanted to get a pet even more. All that was left to do was to the missing "Seed". "Owl ... I have a small problem. Is it necessary to be a mentor in order to tame a pet? I mean, it's a little bit complicated for the new guys. And our plans are different. For example, I am only interested in the experience; I'm not expecting to get a full pet. You said so yourself, it's just important to stake a claim. Do you think any partner would be okay with that?"

  "I don't know," Owl paused to think. "I really don't. We should ask Cavalier. Or the 'Curator', but I wouldn't bother Esco about it. I get shivers in his presence. Big ones."

  "Not just you-... Wait. There's a 'Caretaker' in the ‘Stables', isn't there?"

/>   "Right! Catch!" Owl beamed. "He's the best for asking questions about animals!"

  "Okay, thanks for the information. And why did you call the puppy ‘Flea'?"

  Instead of answering, the mage woke the puppy. It snapped angrily, trying again to bite the owner's hand that had appeared near its nose. Barking unhappily, it observed as the hand moved away unscathed. Suddenly, it jumped into the air. In the next second, the small "Fangore" was hanging from the mage's sleeve, its tiny, but very sharp teeth plunged deeply into the fabric.

  "I see," I laughed. "Aren't you mad at Grant and me about the ‘Turtangle'?"

  "What's the point?" Owl shrugged his thin shoulders, gently unhooked the pet from his sleeve and dropped it onto the grass. Finally waking up, it stared demandingly at its owner, who immediately gave it a piece of dried meat which it gnawed on with delight. "I told you that taming is a rare achievement. You were lucky. I was not. So there's nothing to talk about. By the way, Foxy, Pops and I were going to the ‘Gybberkin' today, for the 'Battle Trophy' quest, but Alice dragged us along, not caring for our plans…"

  "I care," I assured him. "We'll do it together when we meet up with them. It's more fun and safer when there are more of us. By the way, I just noticed... When 'Flea' was tamed, did both your mentees participated?"

  "Yeah."

  "What about the quest crystals? Did only one of them get them, or…"

  "Both," Owl nodded. "Every mob dropped a pair. Two students - two sets. All inclusive. All right, go where you're going. Time is running."

  "Don't forget the firewood."

  "Wise," he called out to me when I had already jumped onto the saddle. And when I turned around, confusedly confessed: "You know, I'm glad that we are together now. It's easier with you than with Sarge or Alice."