Soulcatcher

by Sergey Zaytsev

  "It's all right, Owl," I smiled encouragingly. "We can handle anything if we stick together."

  I would like to believe that myself…

  Spurring the furster, I ran up to the bell on the pier and shook the beater, causing the ringing to spread over the surface of the river. After that, I rode downstream along the shore.

  It wasn't a long ride.

  Soon, the unfortunately familiar part of the coast appeared, curved like a horseshoe. Above the surface of the river still hung the massive cliff, under which the vortex raged, sucking the water under the ground. Before reaching it, I jumped off the furster and moved closer to the flooded tree trunk.

  And then I stopped.

  One couldn't help but feel unnerved observing the place of their execution. Broken arrows which had pierced my body were still sticking out of the trunk; rags which were once my clothes still hanging from them. Nothing was left of the body. Not even the bones. All had crumbled to dust. The memory of death was still very much alive. It had a very specific feeling to it; a mixture of anger, fear, the feeling of powerlessness, and the desire for revenge...

  But there was no one left to revenge. Not even the bodies of the minions remained. Like Grant had told me, because of the game mechanics, the armies of "the Destroyer" almost never dropped anything, death making their weapons, armor and bodies crumble to dust. Only blurred silhouettes made of gray dust remained where three warriors' bodies had hit the grass. But I was happy and relieved to find both of my "Bone Slayers" lying in the grass, along with the half-empty flask. Seems that the belt had slipped off of the clothes of the avatar when the body got "dispelled". I threw the old belt into my bag, in case it ever comes in handy, and fastened the daggers to the new one, immediately feeling much more confident.

  I turned to leave…

  ...and accidentally hit one of the minion's lash, lying in the grass next to the ashen silhouette, with the toe of my boot. So, they did drop something. Picking up the whip, I examined its stats.

  "Nine-tailed Grapnel"

  The lash of submission.

  Damage: 14-20

  Bound ability: "Submission" - Cast an aura onto a friendly creature granting it 100% haste for 10 seconds.

  Cooldown: 30 seconds.

  Upon careful examination, it turned out that the instrument of torture was woven out of tanned leather strips. A twenty inches long, tight, flexible handle made for half of its length, the rest of consisted of nine tails with sharp, metal tips. Yeah, using that on unprotected parts of the body would have quite an effect. Naturally, those minions never, ever spared their dogs.

  With a shred of gloating, I secured the lash to my belt, thinking it to be some kind of compensation for my suffering. Before leaving my resting place, I threw one last look at the rags that were once my jacket and pants, slashed with swords and claws. I smiled wryly. In a fit of rage, I tore the clothes from the trunk and threw them into the water. There, done with the funeral. There was nothing left. I am alive. And I was going to stay alive.

  Watching my offering to the river get carried away by the current, I was about to return to the horse, which was calmly chewing the grass, when I suddenly discovered two familiar pairs of eyes looking at me from under the water.

  "Hello there, Glutton," words escaped me inadvertently. "What the hell are you doing there? Where's your master?"

  The "Turtangle" surfaced and climbed onto the shore.

  I hastily stepped to the side, avoiding being sprayed by the water. The beast busily scratched along the shore following the trail of the hooves left by the furster. Turning its entire body, both of its heads looked questioningly at me. Was it inviting me to follow it? Making sure that I had understood it correctly and that I was going after him leading the horse by the reins, the "Turtangle" rushed on.

  I didn't have to go far. It slowed down near some especially thick shrubbery and then nodded. That is, moved both of its heads in the direction of the bent passage leading into the plant overgrowth, but it looked exactly like a nod. The beast was smarter than I thought.

  Leaving the horse, I carefully entered the bush…

  ...and saw Grant, almost hidden by branches.

  The mage was lying on his back; head thrown backwards, face deathly pale, clothes wet, tattered and covered in dirt. Sticking out from his neck was a split chip of the arrow; a bloody crust had formed around the wound.

  "Fuck."

  Sitting down, I grabbed Grant by the wrist, trying to find a pulse. Nothing. His skin was as cold as a corpse's. But he couldn't have died; otherwise he would have gone to the "Replicator" a long time ago. I put my fingers onto the carotid artery and waited. Got it! One beat every ten seconds. He was really not dead, but was eerily close to dying. The damage was very serious, it was a miracle that Grant had survived.

  The avatar was really something special. An ordinary person in his state would have gone to heaven a long time ago. Grant, most likely, would have come to his senses by himself over time, had it not been for the damn arrow sticking out of his neck, which had obviously damaged something vital and was not allowing the body to recover. I didn't dare to pull out the arrow, what with not being a specialist in healing, and because such a risky move could kill him. Frantically wondering what to do, I remembered the "Temple" and the priests which were, probably, more versed in medicine than I was.

  Something cracked nearby. Glutton, who had been snooping around, bumped my side with its left head, demanding something to be done. Amazed, I realized that it was the "Turtangle" who had saved Grant by pulling him out of the river, bringing him here and hiding him from unwanted eyes. It had been protecting him this entire time and trying not to go far. All of the nearby grass and bushes were plucked out of the ground. I definitely wanted a pet like that. One who would never betray or fail, and be guided by greed.

  The next half an hour passed in busy rush.

  My heart was racing. I was worried about Grant. I did not dare to carry the wounded man to the horse and out him onto the saddle. Shaking him could prove fatal. So, I carried the mage in my arms to the pier. The strength and endurance of my own body pleasantly surprised me, leaving me only slightly out of breath.

  "Porter"

  Rank 1 (5/100)

  Load capacity and fatigue resistance when carrying increased by 5%.

  The three silent priests who had arrived with the ferry were already waiting at the pier. Fortunately, they decided not to delay the trip this time around. After herding the horses on the ferry, we crossed to the island. Without waiting for me, the priests took Grant to the "Temple" and performed a surgery on him. I was right about them. Very quiet beings dressed in yellow robes, though not uttering a word, explained through gestures that the wounded man had too long been in a coma, on the verge between life and death, and that his brain was severely damaged. They could probably heal him, but he would have to stay in the "Temple" under the aura of recovery. He would immediately start recovering as soon as he wakes up because then he, being a healer, would be able to help himself.

  Having found out that the recovery could take several hours, we decided not to waste time and went back. It was better to farm than sit around and languish in anxiety. The boars were, to put it frankly, not happy to see us, seemingly remembering me from yesterday. They charged at us before we even before we had time to notice them. Very soon it seemed that it was not we who hunted them, but they who hunted us. Still, we managed. The experience gain was ridiculously small, but we got some "socs", meat, and pieces of leather. That's how we spent our time, until Cavalier, Pops and Foxy arrived on their fursters.

  Red sure was something else. Her sly smile and cheerful face warmed my heart. I understood Gramps' fascination with her. Once more we crossed the river again, but did not receive pleasant news. Grant hadn't yet come to. Cavalier arrived, just in case, to ensure that we had the five players necessary to create a clan. A prudent type, he was. The name I had proposed for the clan was adopted without objection - "Fortune Hunters
". Pops said that sounded symbolic, and Owl added that "Hunters" was a much better abbreviation than "Cats" or "Children". It was a solemn moment. Gramps, as the head of the future clan, put all five of us in the same party, shared the "Side by Side" quest that he had taken from Esco, and confirmed the request given by the system.

  And so, a third clan appeared in the "sandbox"'. We congratulated each other, shook hands, slapped shoulders, and exchanged smiles. I even put my arm around Red, but a sidelong glance from Gramps made me retreat. No need to start quarrels at the very beginning of our alliance. Then we discussed the benefits. As creators, everyone got two thousand experience though a single transaction. Looking at the XP bar was quite pleasant - 4345 out of 5062. Just a bit more and I would be level six. Even a level one clan had an indefinite "Aura of Maturity" which granted plus 5% experience gained from any mob. Cavalier let out a couple of sighs, lamenting his losses. "Cats" and "Children" were level seventeen and twenty, respectively, and granted many more benefits. But the levels were just a matter of time, and grew with the number of players and their leveling, as well as completed clan quests.

  After some consultation, we split up. I asked Cavalier to find out what the conditions for taming pets without the quest were, and the cleric departed for "Daisy" again, where he would follow the local news and keep an eye out for beginners. At the same time he promised to repay my debt to Alice at his own expense. I was afraid that after our fight Alice would refuse to let me repay my debt out of pure spite. Cavalier assured something like that wasn't possible. The system registered such things automatically, and Alice couldn't refuse even if she wanted to. The quest would reset in that case, and I would no longer be indebted to her. Convenient. And fair.

  After that, the four of us - Owl, Pops ,Foxy, and I - crossed to the other side of the river where the priests had another ferry. When I moved to the shore, one of the priests gave me another unexpected and extremely pleasant surprise - my lost bag with the "Duplicator", the "Seed", and all of the "socs" I had looted yesterday. It happened so casually that I was left confused, standing and looking as the ferry moved away from the coast, and muscular guys in yellow robes twisted the rope winch, with which the ferry moved from shore to shore. I didn't even get a chance to thank them.

  Then we went to complete the "Battle Trophy" quest.

  The hour flew by; we rode at a brisk and cheerful pace, going through hilly mountains covered with sparse deciduous forest, and without any difficulties. Picturesque countryside, full of forest scents and caressed by a soft breeze on a warm sunny day. It was beautiful. The problem of the lost "Seed" was solved so simply that I, for a long time, could not believe that I was again the proud owner of a future pet. And every now and then I would look into the bag just to make sure that the "Seed" was still there. The only thing that brought the mood down a little bit was the thought of Grant who was still on the verge between life and death. But there was nothing I could do to change it, so I had to hope for the best. Hell, maybe death really would be better for him than this limbo? He would be out of the "Replicator" with a headache by evening, but sane of mind and his memory intact.

  But he would lose his second save. So, maybe it was not better, after all.

  Of course, Owl was the one to lead us because he'd been there before. The mountains towered above, the harsh and gloomy beauty of which conquered all without exception.

  And here we were, moving along the precipice in a single line, cold wind on our faces, looking carefully under our feet.

  After about half an hour, the trail abruptly turned to the side, leaving the abyss behind. The path was surrounded from both sides by sheer stone walls of the cleft, which cut through thick rock like a hot knife through a piece of butter. Soon, a narrow passage led to a spacious, bowl shaped picturesque valley the bottom of which was entirely overgrown with thick green grass. Its walls were rocky ledges piled up around its circumference.

  Chapter 16

  ''Gybberkin Mountains''

  Our group stopped to observe the ''Gybberkin village'' that had appeared in front of us. Round huts with multi colored roofs, small as toys, were disorderly all over the place; as if they were dancing through the valley.

  ''We will leave the fursters here, they are not allowed in the village,'' Owl remarked. ''You see, these Gybberkin are about knee high, and any player for them is a giant. Galloping riders could be perceived as a threat.''

  Setting an example, Owl threw the bridle over a hook on the pole near the exit out of the gorge, elegantly decorated with colorful cloth ribbons, in accordance with the local tastes. We did the same. My horse's purple eyes anxiously glanced at me, but it did not object, only obediently sighed. I myself had become attached to this obedient and patient animal, so I encouragingly patted its warm, furry side. Don't worry, I'll be back.

  ''Hey, Owl, they really do look like monkeys, just like you said!'' Foxy, laughed, turning towards the valley and shaking her red mane. ''So funny!''

  She voiced what was on the tip of everyone's tongue.

  The creatures we saw near the huts were, indeed, reminiscent of small monkeys, or a five-year-old child in size. Adult Gybberkin wore some kind of robes, made from colorful scraps of silky material. The cubs ran naked, looking quite innocent, covered in sunflower-yellow wool that grew all over their body. However, their hairless, pink muzzles, with eyes as big as saucers, somehow didn't seem cute, but like a parody of human faces.

  We were immediately noticed, but none of the Gybberkin hurried to approach. Stopping whatever they were doing, the creatures froze and observed us from afar.

  ''Yeah, they're fun,'' smiled the shivering mage, palms tucked under his armpits. He looked a little pale. ''As long as you're peaceful and friendly, that is. Just so you know, the Gybberkin are cunning, vengeful, and vindictive. They are weak fighters, which is no surprise with such a pathetic physique, but they are very skillful pet tamers. Each adult Gybberkin commands several pets which they can unleash onto anyone they don't like, and then their kindred will join in. Around two hundred of them live here. Go figure. So, smile and do not make any rash moves. In any case, don't ever offend the kids, for Gybberkin cherish their young. I heard that one hasty player accidentally kicked a Gybberkin who was running around his feet... They tore the whole party to shreds. They had to forget about the quests, too, as no forgiveness is granted here.''

  ''Clearly,'' nodded Gramps, having carefully listened to Owl. ''A test of xenophobia. But, as you said before, they give simple quests, so we will try not to overstay our welcome, dwellers here being so... ambiguous.''

  ''You don't understand,'' the mage smiled wryly. ''The quest was simple to me. You have no idea what you might get. Everyone gets a different task. These monkeys... By the way, don't call them monkeys face to face... Better safe than sorry. The Gybberkin live here and generate quests depending on the situation. See that cleft over there, on the other side of the valley?'' Owl waved his baggy sleeve, showing the direction. ''I did my quest there. There is a spring there which had been frequented by a beast, one that they couldn't get rid of themselves. Or didn't want to, depends on the point of view.''

  ''What kind of beast?'' I asked.

  ''You've met it before. A 'Bonechewer'. The Gybberkin don't tame those as their delicate nerves would suffer too much from having to look at such a monstrosity every day. All three chiefs sent battle pets to fight the 'Bonechewer', but none returned. So, the quest was given to a player.''

  ''They didn't have much to show off then,'' sneered Foxy. ''Enemies need to be killed at once and by the whole group. I won't sleep well after your stories about the 'Bonechewer' that you have defeated in the lair. I may be too sensitive, just like these mon-... Gybberkin.''

  ''No way,'' Owl replied. ''I told you, they have three chieftains who take turns ruling. Every day they prove to each other who is more badass.''

  ''That is, if a chief sends two or three fighters, that's an immediate sign of weakness?'' I smiled knowingly.

 
; ''Yeah.''

  ''So, how did you manage?''

  ''Not that I had to do anything,'' Owl chuckled shyly, as if he had to admit something shameful. ''Sarge ripped the 'Bonechewer' to pieces. I only had to give in the quest.''

  ''Oh, it's a good thing that others can help,'' Gramps nodded in approval. ''Well, let's not waste time... Wait. I have an idea that concerns all of us. Better discuss it right now, before we forget.''

  ''What do you mean?'' I asked.

  ''You, Wise. And Grant. And us,'' Pops gave all of us a meaningful glance, and then looked at me. ''We all know the reason why you've kept so closely together. But the fact is, things have changed, and you don't need to go alone. Wait, don't interrupt me,'' Pops raised his hand, noticing that I was starting to frown. ''I guess I wasn't clear enough. Let's just say... Grant needs 'The Destroyer's' dagger. Right?''

  ''Everyone wants 'The Destroyer's' weapon,'' I chuckled.

  ''That's where you're wrong. Under other, calmer circumstances, when I'm not running out of time, I wouldn't refuse to get a 'Uniq'... But, we have what we have.''

  ''Enough, Gramps!'' Owl shifted nervously from foot to foot, looking at the man with annoyance. He was eager to take us to the Gybberkin. ''Be specific.''

  ''Hush, kid,'' the cleric narrowed his eyes, and gave the mage a harsh and imperious stare which forced him to stop fidgeting. He quickly adapted to his role of the clanmaster. ''Let's say we go in five. You, Grant, Owl, Redhead, and I.''

  ''Hey, don't speak for me, I'm not.…''

  He put his hand onto the girl's slender shoulder, silencing her.

  ''Calm down, Ginger, I act in your best interests, just let me express my thought. What were we talking about? Oh yeah. Grant doesn't want to share the spoils with a large number of people, and I understand that. But what if there was no need to share? What if we all give up on the 'Soulcatcher' and give it to him? Maybe the he would join our group? What do you think, Wise? You were with him the longest. You had the time to study him.''