The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge

Home > Other > The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge > Page 16
The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge Page 16

by Vasily Mahanenko


  Chapter Five. The Ergreis

  “Welcome to Astrumian territory, Earl,” the tall, dark-haired man in a business suit greeted me. “In order to leave the building premises, you will have to register in this continent and learn a little about its culture, particularities and restrictions. Only after you have passed a test of our continent’s culture, may you spend more than a week in Astrum. Otherwise, you shall be deported and barred from visiting Astrum for the next six months. Please try to be understanding—I was not the one who came up with these rules.”

  A notification appeared before me asking me to select the purpose of my visit to Astrum: As a guest or as a tourist. The length of stay indicated by the diplomat (7 days) was printed in parentheses next to the ‘guest’ option. The other option had no limit.

  I stared with puzzlement at these buttons, trying to decide which to choose. On the one hand, I wasn’t going to stay in Astrum longer than a week. I only wanted to pick up the players and go back. On the other hand, I also had two invitations to the Emperor’s castle. And I would definitely want to spend some time in that location.

  “I don’t have time for the training at the moment,” I said, choosing the guest option. “But soon enough I’ll be back and I’ll be happy to exhaustively study the culture of Astrum. Tell me, if I want to pick up some Free Citizens of Astrum and take them to our continent of Kalragon, do they need to take cultural studies classes as well?”

  “Absolutely. Any traveler is required to familiarize himself with the culture of the continent he is visiting. This is a matter of courtesy to the sentients that inhabit those lands. Otherwise someone might come visit our gnomes and start drilling holes in the cave ceilings so that some sunlight could get in. And that’s just culturally insensitive.”

  “But they won’t incur any penalties if they spend less than seven days on our continent?”

  “Three days,” the diplomat corrected me. “Only aristocrats are granted a week, since no one doubts the level of their education. Commoners are granted only three days in order to establish whether they need to do the training or not. All they have to do is complete the preliminary registration and that’s it.”

  “Thank you for the explanation,” I thanked the NPC sincerely. Any way you spin it, this was my first trip ‘abroad’ and there was much to learn. After the straightforward registration procedure, I opened the door and took my first step onto the neighboring continent.

  “Hi!” Kalatea’s voice sounded right beside me. “Everyone’s ready. We can start ferrying people over. Only Antsinthepantsa and I have the language packs installed, so we’ll have to translate. Although wait—yeah, my tank also speaks the language of the Dark Empire, Kartoos.”

  “Kartoss,” I corrected the Shaman. “How’d he learn it?”

  “Two reasons,” answered a hefty man encased in very pretty golden armor—a Level 288 Warrior. “The first is I keep track of changes to game mechanics. The last update tweaked axe throwing and I had to do the test in Kartoss, so I was speaking to their warriors a lot. This meant I had to learn the language. Leraz galvart, Kalatea-kun?” the last phrase, as I understood it was addressed to Kalatea, not me.

  “Bjorg is asking whether you understand him…”

  “Perfectly well,” I replied to the Warrior in Kartossian, and was suddenly struck with a thought which forced me to ask: “Hang on, isn’t Bjorg a woman’s name?”

  “That’s the second reason,” the Warrior smiled. “I’ve been in Astrum only five years. Before that I was in Kalragon. I’ve been a fan of Norse mythology for a long time, so I decided to give my avatar a strong-sounding name. Bjorg! It was only after I’d made my character and began playing that I discovered that this is a woman’s name! Well, Bjork, not Bjorg, with a ‘k,’ but the gist remains the same. Like I give damn though. I still like it!”

  “I was always sure that our continent has the best players,” I smiled, offering Bjorg my hand. “Welcome to our raid, Warrior!”

  “You can call me Valentine, or Val for short. I’d even prefer it.”

  “In that case I’m Daniel, or Dan. All right, I bet Kalatea is starting to suspect I’m going to try and recruit you.”

  “If I was actually thinking it, you’d already be emerging from your cocoon to wait out the next twelve hours,” grinned the Shaman, demonstrating her own knowledge of Kartossian. “I already told you, Mahan, my Order only recruits the best people.”

  “Shamans…”

  “Not exclusively. I have a tank—Bjorg here—and several Mages for opening portals, Druids, Paladins…the Order of Dragons welcomes all classes. Are you ready to start transporting people?”

  “Yes. Who will go first?”

  “Bjorg, Antsinthepantsa and three Shaman-Elementalists. They’ll be in charge of scouting…”

  “Sorry, Shaman-Elementa-what?” I interrupted Kalatea, never having heard such a drawn-out term used about my class.

  “Elementalists are Shamans who use Elementals instead of Totems.”

  “Elementals are those huge concentrations of fire or earth or water…”

  “Or air, absolutely correct. You’re already beyond Level 100—haven’t you gained access to them yet?”

  “Erm…I probably have, but the thing is my powers have been blocked for a month. They’ll be back in a few days finally. Then I’ll learn all about Elementals and what wine they’re best paired with. Could you share a bit of strategically important info about them? On a friendly exchange basis, let’s say.”

  “A friendly exchange?” Kalatea raised an eyebrow. “The Legends of Barliona offers to work with the Order of the Dragon?”

  “Erm…Yeeeah?” I ventured, unsure of what the Shaman was getting at.

  “On behalf of the Order of the Dragon, I accept your offer,” Kalatea said in an official tone and immediately, a notification appeared before me:

  The Legends of Barliona and the Order of the Dragon have become allies.

  Please confirm this.

  “It’s that simple?” I asked with some disbelief, not quite ready to push the button. “Without discussing the terms of our alliance? We’re allies just like that?”

  It was too fast. Everything was happening too quickly. I didn’t have to be a genius to understand that Kalatea wanted this for some reason—and lately, I’ve developed a bit of an allergy to this kind of thing.

  “Is something bothering you?” Kalatea continued to flap her eyebrows.

  “Everything, if I’m to be honest. With all due respect to your Order, I must decline your offer,” I added, pushing the ‘Decline’ button. “I am unfamiliar with the method of collaboration and I don’t understand my responsibilities in this relationship, so I’d rather not risk my clan. Maybe as allies, I have to transfer 50% of all my loot daily to your Order. After all, I was the one who asked to collaborate…”

  “Then it is as I have heard. Your faith in people has been crushed. Wiped out. I accept your decision. As soon as you settle your problems, I will be ready to offer you an alliance again. Let me reiterate—the Order only works with the best. You are one of them.”

  “Let’s figure out who’s who later. Valentine,” I turned to the Warrior, “shall we go?”

  “We shall,” Bjorg replied with a smile. “Will you tell me what mobs we’ll be facing?”

  “None too complicated for a Warrior of your level. Wolves, foxes, bunnies and hedgehogs—all sub Level 150. The only snag is that you can’t kill them. We’ll need people from my continent.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have this, uh, thing on our continent. It’s called ‘Shadow.’ Creatures under its influence can’t be destroyed at the moment. We’re so sick of dealing with them that I can’t even begin to explain it to you.”

  “Is that the second movie about the scenarios on your continent?” Kalatea caught on.

  “The very one.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have much of a problem. Antsinthepantsa updated before she moved to Astrum.
She’ll go with the first group.”

  “Okey-dokey. In that case, let’s be on our way. We don’t have much time.”

  “Why not? Three days should be enough to complete a Dungeon.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” I smirked. “The developers in charge of our continent are a bit annoying in that regard. Just take my word for it …”

  Altameda Castle has leveled up! Current level: 26.

  New ability acquired: Level 3 Architect. Cost of rebuilding razed buildings decreased by 15%.

  Finally, Plinto’s statues had taken their rightful places! I’m sure Viltrius is currently running around Altameda, frantically dusting this unexpected surprise. And why not? There’s much more prestige to be the majordomo of a Level 26 Castle instead of some sorry pile of Level 25 rubble. Silly NPCs…

  “Bunny-wunny, I am just stunned!” Anastaria’s thought popped into my head. “Where’d you get the money? Are you still embezzling money from your clan?”

  “A friend of mine once told me that it’s not nice to use rude words with girls, so I’ll simply suggest that you take a pleasant walk at a location well known to you,” I replied with no desire to fall for Anastaria’s jibes.

  “How could I go if you don’t come with?”

  “I’ve already told you, darling: If you want to come along to the Dungeon, give me back everything you pilfered out of my bag within thirty minutes of your switching clans and abandoning the Legends of Barliona. If you don’t wish to do so, then I’ve already indicated the place you should absolutely go to.”

  “I see our ‘dates’ aren’t in vain. We’ve learned to express what we want,” the girl replied in a satisfied tone. “However, I must refuse your offer. I need the Eye, and I simply can’t return the Crastils to you without knowing what they do.”

  “What do you need the Eye for?” I asked, surprised. “You’ve already gained access to the Tomb.”

  “The First Kill, kid, the First Kill. Or did you really think that I’ll just let you have that?”

  “If that’s all you got, then stop bothering me,” I didn’t ‘aggro’ in reply to Anastaria’s trolling and decided to end the conversation.

  “See you soon then! Don’t forget—we have another date tomorrow. Our family has to remain strong and close. I’ll be waiting for you at the Golden Horseshoe at noon. Kisses!”

  As much as I wanted to say a few choice words to this…this woman…I restrained myself. My job was a simple one—locate two items, find a Crastil and the Tears of Harrashess, activate them and slip them to Anastaria and Hellfire. It’d be nice to blow up Phoenix’s castle along the way, but that’s already a matter of circumstance. And therefore I wasn’t about to let myself feel anything whatsoever towards this…this creature. She didn’t deserve it.

  “The last part of the raid is ready. We can pick them up as soon as your cooldown expires,” Bjorg collapsed noisily beside me. “Cool mobs you got here. You really can’t kill them. We’ve, uh, leveled up your Fleita there to Level 90. You don’t mind do you?”

  “She doesn’t belong to me, but thank you. It really is surprising that you can’t kill Shadow mobs. So it works out that you can’t just change continents just like that, huh?”

  “Just like that, no. You have to go through extra training. As soon as I came to Kalragon last time, I was instantly told to meet with the Warrior Mentor in order to start a quest chain that updated my class. It’s pretty interesting, but you need time for it. And we don’t have any at the moment.”

  Nodding my assent, I blinked the other Shamans to our continent, created a raid party and set myself as its leader. Then I ordered everyone to start clearing the mobs in the Dungeon so as not to waste time and dialed Kreel’s amulet. The decision to refuse Anastaria’s offer came surprisingly easy to me: I wasn’t going to save Renox. The developers had decided that this NPC had to die and so there wasn’t any point in bashing my head against that wall. I’d wager a tooth that if Anastaria actually has some quest, it’d be impossible to complete it.

  “Greetings!” Kreel was in the game as we had agreed, so my call wasn’t in vain.

  “Kreel, hi! This is Mahan. I’m starting our raid into my Dungeon. Are you coming with us or should I summon you for the last boss?”

  “Do you think you’ll complete it quickly?” the Titan asked surprised.

  “I have no idea. Maybe it’ll take us one night, or maybe it’ll take us several months. I’ve never tried doing two Dungeons at once, so I’m unsure about the logistics of it all. What if we miss something and lose our shot at the boss? That goes for you as much as for me.”

  “Agreed, raiding two Dungeons at once seems like an interesting thing. Let’s do it this way: You guys will fight your way to your final boss, while I fight my way to mine. Hopefully, we only have one monster left before we reach ours. As soon as we do, I’ll call and summon you. The same goes for you. This seems like the most efficient way to do it.”

  “Got it. Best of luck to you, Titan!”

  “Pff…Let’s not be too dramatic now. Good luck to you, Shaman!”

  The amulet fell silent. I twirled it in my hands for a few moments and then tossed it back into my bag with all the other ones and got out another one. It was time to summon Plinto.

  “Why don’t you go yourself?” the Rogue wondered as soon as I’d invited him to the party.

  “I hate being a wagon,” I confessed honestly. “To watch fifteen Shamans accomplish something singular and lack the opportunity to do it myself…I could of course go take a look and see how others play the Shaman class, but…well, there’s always a lot of ‘buts.’”

  “Suit yourself,” Plinto smirked, unsheathing his Legendary cutlery. “I can’t pass up a chance to wave around my stilettoes. I should suggest to the developers that they cook up a training ground for Rogues in which the player has to run the obstacle course without using a single class skill. Nothing but his own God-given hands. Everyone’s so accustomed to using the same old ability combos that they’ve forgotten that Barliona isn’t some prehistoric game with scripted mechanics. You have to be creative in it!”

  “Erm…” I muttered expressively in reply.

  “Okay okay,” droned Plinto. “You didn’t understand a damn thing…”

  “Understand what?”

  “I’m actually kind of barred from telling you in-game. I even have a contract with the Emperor, so I’ll just repeat what I said—linking abilities into combos is simply a custom in Barliona; it isn’t actually coded in. If you want to make something happen—it doesn’t matter whether it’s battle, the crafting of an item or a chess set, if we’re talking about you specifically—then you must be creative. You have to use tools that no one had ever thought of using before you. That’s the only way you can become a true leader in Barliona. Since you’re not joining the raiding party, you should think about this.”

  “Are you talking about Crafting?” I guessed. Plinto seemed to be alluding to the fact that Crafting had some effect on combat. However, I had assumed that this pertained only to him—working with chisels to create the sculptures somehow affected the weapons his class used. But unlike him, I have to summon Spirits and don’t use items to fight. Although, I do create things in Design Mode. Without Items…Hmm…

  “I can tell by the wrinkle on your forehead that a thought has occurred to you and you’re busy contemplating it further,” Plinto concluded. “In that case, I won’t distract you. You can tell me later what you end up cogitating.”

  Plinto dived into the shimmering veil of the Dungeon’s entrance, leaving me in deep thought. Summoning Spirits and Crafting. How could I combine these two seemingly unrelated things? According to the manual, Crafting influences all professions, determines the ability to independently learn the finer points of a profession and permits the creation of unusual items. There is a percentage chance to independently discover and learn a unique recipe. What does that have to do with Spirits? I urgently needed to use my phone-a-fri
end lifeline.

  “Delra gantar derta est! Prakti verza!” The amulet roared with Kalatea’s voice.

  “Hi Kalatea, this is Mahan,” I said, ignoring the sounds of battle reaching me from the other side. “Do you have a moment?”

  “What do you think?” Kalatea all but screamed.

  “I’ll be a second. Are Crafting and Spirit Summoning somehow related?”

  “No! At any rate, I never designed anything like it—or tested it. They’re two completely different things—stats that are related to crafting and stats related to summoning Spirits.”

  “I see. Thanks, that’s all. How’s it going?”

  “It’s not going!” Kalatea blurted out and then swore several times in Astrumian. “The Dungeon’s mobs are all Level 200—it’s like fighting children for us. But our inability to actually kill them is, well, killing us. We’ve almost reached the first boss, but all of the XP is going to Antsinthepantsa, Aozaki and your student.”

  “Aozaki? Who’s that?”

  “One of my Shamans. It turns out that she’s spent time on your continent and did the skill update training. So we have another person who can speak Malabarian. Anyway, she says that it takes five days to update your skills. Five days! They’ll kick us out of Kalragon before we finish!”

  It sounded like Kalatea was losing her temper a bit. I had never seen the Shaman in such an agitated state before and now had to give myself a mental pat on the back for refusing to go into the Dungeon with the others. I’m sure they’d sic all the dogs in there on me.

  “In that case, I have a proposal. Take a break from the fighting, do the registration and cultural classes and in a week we’ll come back there again. We don’t have to complete that Dungeon today. If we have to do it in a week, let it be so.”

  “Varga est!” Kalatea ordered her raid party and returned to our conversation: “Agreed! Will you arrange our transportation to Anhurs?”

  “If it’s anywhere on the continent, there’s no problem. Altameda is always at your service.”

 

‹ Prev