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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Here, the waiter brought in the food we’d ordered, so we had to take a break to again wonder at the culinary miracles worked by the local chefs. How they managed to create masterpieces from such disparate ingredients remained the riddle of the century. It’s difficult to believe that the Culinary specialty allows someone to work such wonders that the scent alone can force a hungry player to forget everything around him. No doubt these cooks also have Crafting as well as some Flavoring attribute. On the whole, the Golden Horseshoe justified its status and (no less importantly) its prices.

  “Beatwick…Imagine, it would take about two weeks to travel from Anhurs to Beatwick without a portal. I thought my Fluffy would wear out his paws from such a stroll, but he managed it. I was especially happy to see a trio of PK-ers looking for a player named Mahan for some reason. So I had to travel to the city, Farstead, I believe—since I’d just encountered that low-level Shaman there.”

  “How did you even manage to find me?”

  “Are you familiar with a player named Reptilis Y’allgotohellis? As I understand it, you’ve run into him before and even worked with him on a quest.”

  “Not quite a quest…Well, he wanted to kill me.”

  “Really? Very interesting. Honestly, I hired him to find a prisoner who’d made his way to freedom and who’d be certain to be at a compulsory settlement for another three months. He performed his job perfectly.”

  “Find me? Why?”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here. We need to talk and the Golden Horseshoe is about the only place in Barliona that is secure enough, so no one will be able to spy on our conversation—not even the devs.”

  “The developers? Aren’t you going a bit far?” I smirked, even as deep inside, some sinister premonition reared its head.

  “Dan, if it weren’t that serious, I’d never try to find you to begin with. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. At the retraining session where we first met, I was approached by a man of indeterminate age.”

  “Indeterminate?”

  “He could have been thirty just as well as fifty. He was very fit, like every user of advanced long-term immersion capsules. He had an athletic built and was clearly pumped full of vitamins. Who can tell how old someone like that is? He offered me to participate in a little, as he put it, venture. He pointed at you and asked me to force you into a bet. The way he put it, he had some age-old grudge with you and he wanted to settle it once and for all.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “If you asked me that a year ago, I wouldn’t have an answer for you. Now, however, I recall blue or gray eyes and a thick beard. Mind-boggling! A year’s passed since our stupid bet!”

  “And what happened then?”

  “They assigned me the subject of the wager—hacking the waste collector Imitator. My job was to lead you on to it. Damn it! They even issued me a scenario for talking with you, can you imagine it? This guy had calculated everything—he even knew you’d try for a truce.”

  “What about the idea of offering yourself as a prize? Was that yours or the scenario’s?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “It was in the scenario. That was supposed to be the most compelling piece of bait—the one that’d get you to agree. And it had to be voiced loud enough for everyone to hear. I did what they asked of me, received my money and didn’t even consider that everything could turn as seriously as it did.”

  “Money? They even gave you money for it…Hang on. You said that the main goal was to hack the sewage system Imitator. Why hack the Imitator of the company you were working for?”

  “But I wasn’t working for it! I’m a freelance artist, what do I have to do with a sewage system?”

  Okaaaay. Now things were getting even more interesting. Someone had manipulated me into hacking that sewage system. But for what?

  “In the end you agreed to the bet and I went home with the money. The next day they gave me the address which I relayed to you. And that was the end of my involvement in that operation.”

  “What a fascinating fairy tale—but it doesn’t explain why I got the address of a working system and why it was connected to the network. The sewage system used a very elaborate security system—a very effective one, but also a very rare one due to its complexity. It’s hard to believe that whoever arranged the bet didn’t know the network’s design. Who in their right mind would connect a working Imitator to an open network? Especially the network of such an organization?”

  “This is the most interesting part. You’re right—the main Imitator is cut off from the network and only has one gateway to the outside world—which is synched to the communicators of three people: the CEO, the mayor and an official in our continental government. So I can safely congratulate you—a year ago you joined the cohort of the untouchables.”

  “Where’d you get this information?”

  “I had to revisit my long-gone youth and conduct my own investigation. But that was already after I found out about the consequences of our bet. The address that they sent me wasn’t at all like a standard web address. The fact that the system had only one gateway to the network was also wrong. Sooner or later, what’s hidden will come to light. Unfortunately, my handlers don’t seem to understand that whatever’s cheap isn’t always high quality, and in pursuit of savings end up endangering the security and safety of their systems. This gives rise to holes and backdoors that intruders can exploit. Although, in this case, the intruder was you.”

  Marina paused to take a sip and then went on.

  “When the trial began, I wanted to go to the police and confess to everything. I wanted to tell them that it was all someone’s ruse, that you were hacking the system for someone and not of your own free will, but then…”

  “But then what?”

  “Three men came to my house. They made various hints and veiled references to my aging parents and explained that it wasn’t a good idea to go anywhere and try and prove anything. They explained that you got what you deserved and that eight years in Barliona wouldn’t do you any harm.”

  “They threatened you?” I asked surprised.

  “Yes. Moreover, I’m sure that they’re watching me even now. The first time they came to me was when I helped you choose your name. The second time was when we met in Beatwick. Back then they told me that I might not survive a third meeting. So they asked me not to do anything stupid. Can you imagine the kind of people who have the capability to track meetings in Barliona?”

  “I can—and perfectly well,” I grumbled. “But it’s still a mystery to me why you came looking for me to begin with. You were paid, you did your job—that’s it. You’ve done your part.”

  “Because we are free artists. Because we should help each other. Because what they did to you wasn’t right.”

  “And yet seducing a technician so that he can allow me to choose my name is right?”

  “Yes. That was my choice. I didn’t sleep with him—I only kissed him a couple times, but that doesn’t count. Why not? I believe that there is cruelty in this world—and am ready to be cruel myself. But I won’t stand for someone using me. Those who hired me were using me. So I decided to help you. As soon as I consider my debt repaid, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Have you never considered whether I need your help at all?”

  “I’ve helped you with your name, information as well as various quests that you would’ve failed and therefore never become the Mahan of which all of Barliona speaks. So yes, I’d say you do need my assistance. I don’t want your forgiveness—I don’t need it. I reckon that by telling you who your enemies are and what they’re capable of, I’ll extinguish whatever debt I owe you. I’m ready to give you the information I’ve collected about the hacking of the waste system any time that’s convenient for you. I hope that you’ll have enough brains to submit it to a court so that your case can be reexamined. The entire case is so shabby that it’s a wonder they even sentenced you. The only thing that’s holding me back is my fear for my relative
s. My visitors made it clear to me that I played a small role in this drama and that they could always find a different actor for the part. Now what about joining your clan?”

  I sent Marina an invitation and assured her that we would meet in reality in the next three months. Then I blinked to Altameda. In light of this new information, I needed to think things over carefully.

  And so!

  My ending up in prison was no accident. Someone had plotted to imprison me in the game for many years. But for what? I had had neither enemies nor friends. I had no one at all in fact, even pets. What was the point of hiding me away in Barliona like this?

  Something tells me that when I find an answer to this question, I’ll find the answer to the great questions of the universe as well.

  Chapter Seven. Aquarizamax

  “Everyone present and ready?” Kreel’s voice came over the amulet. “Then let’s do it. Summoning now.”

  A summons notification appeared before my eyes, and I was surprised to see that it had been issued by a single player instead of a trio of Mages. Was Kreel really so lavish that he was using scrolls to teleport us over? This was a prohibitively expensive way to do this in comparison to using three Mages, but perhaps the Titan didn’t know any better. But okay—he can summon us however he likes. If he prefers to burn through scrolls, let him burn through scrolls. What difference did it make as long as we reached the Dungeon?

  No sooner had my new location come into focus than an enormous cloud eclipsed Barliona’s bright sun.

  “Hello again! This time in person,” boomed the giant, offering me his immense paw. Only now did I realize that the cloud was in fact the Titan standing before me in his full battle armor. He was between two and a half and three meters tall. As for weight, well, let’s just say that, seeing him, a rhino would step aside and have a smoke in envy. I’m not sure that I had the Strength to even budge Kreel—maybe only in my Dragon Form. By the way! It’s possible that the Level 201 Kreel has simply transformed into his battle form and this is why his dimensions seem so daunting to me. As a Dragon, I take up almost half of Altameda’s hall, so in terms of dimensions I’m no smaller. Damn it! What am I thinking about? Why would I even compare my size to a Titan’s?

  “Hello to you too,” I said, squeezing the gargantuan paw and nodding toward the giant tower behind us. “So is that your Dungeon?”

  Kreel turned his head in the indicated direction, causing some critter affixed to the crown of his helm to trace and arc in the air and in so doing leave a barely noticeable blue and white trail in its wake.

  “It is,” he nodded. “Flying over the tower is prohibited—you can’t maintain inertia. I think they’ve installed a jammer in it. So the only approach is on foot from below. Here’s the raid invitation. The others will arrive in a bit.”

  An enormous tower of white stone about fifty meters wide and a hundred meters tall loomed over the desert. The blazing sun here constantly saddled everyone with the ‘Blindness,’ ‘Desiccation,’ and ‘Thirst’ debuffs, which all stacked to decrease our main stats by 20%. Moreover, a notification informed me that these debuffs would intensify every thirty minutes. The tower boasted several windows about thirty meters above ground, inviting agile players to clamber up into them, yet I trusted Kreel. If he said that flying was prohibited, then that’s the way it was. Besides, there was only one boss left, at the very top of the tower, so the rest of it would have been cleared.

  “Why didn’t you summon us straight to the top?” I asked the important question, as soon as I realized how far we’d have to climb. An ascent of a hundred meters is really a lot.

  “Relax—there’s a portal to the top of the tower right at the entrance,” Kreel grinned. “All right. Everyone’s ready. We can begin.”

  I noted with surprise that Plinto and Anastaria were summoned not with scrolls but with Mages after all. Or to be more precise, a single Mage. This was none other than our old friend Alisa Reix, a Level 239 Mage who’d managed to level up one more time since our last meeting. She could summon players on her own without having to resort to two additional colleagues. Hum. Is that possible?

  “Did you imagine that your clan has all the unique players?” Kreel answered my unasked question.

  “No, but…All right, have you already decided on a tactic for the Dragon?”

  “Yup. That’s why I suggest we make everything clear right off the bat. Moni, what do you have?” Kreel turned to an Elf that had approached us. Moni the Hunched was a Level 190 Druid with an expression on his face as if we owed him several million gold.

  “What’s your status? Are you still incapacitated?”

  I automatically tried to summon a Spirit and shook my head. I still had a day and a half till that happy moment—or, an eternity, given our current situation.

  “Uh-huh. In that case listen up—you three will be the sacrificial lambs,” said the Druid addressing someone behind me. I turned to see Plinto and Anastaria. “Since you won’t be of any help, I won’t let my healers waste their Mana on you. If you die, then you die. We’ll revive you later. You’ll get the First Kill even if you’re dead. Any questions? No? Very well then.”

  “Am I to understand that you don’t need any help with the tactics?” Anastaria raised an eyebrow.

  “We’re not a bunch of newbies here, so we’ll figure it out,” smirked Moni. “Although, if it becomes an issue, we’ll make sure to consult with you. We don’t suffer from excessive pride here or anything.”

  “Okay, and what if I participate in the raid in this form?” Anastaria refused to give up, turning into her Siren Form. “Will you give us a place in battle and some healing now?”

  Following Anastaria’s example, Plinto turned into a dark fog which materialized into a half-transparent and swirling Vampire-Cleric. It was the first time I’d seen Plinto in his Vampire Form. He made a strange impression—at once mesmerizing and terrifying. The Rogue’s red eyes were particularly stunning, glowing like two rubies against the silhouette of a black Vampire.

  “Hmm,” Moni remarked eloquently. “What are your abilities in this form? What are you capable of?”

  “Here’s the description,” said Anastaria, making several passes with her hands.

  “So it’s like that?” Moni looked at Anastaria with surprise. “This doesn’t mention the cooldown. How long will that be?”

  “If I understood your question, then a day. It’s effective against all creatures in this world, including bosses.”

  “Hmm…” Moni really had a vast vocabulary. “All right. What’s Plinto got? Okay, I see. This is good. And this…Are you kidding me?” the Druid exclaimed yet again. “Another day’s cooldown?”

  “Depends on what,” Plinto’s smirk gave me goose bumps. The Vampire spoke in such a completely terrifying whisper that all I wanted to do was run away, dig a hole to hide in, exit Barliona, delete my account and never return.

  “The Kiss.”

  “A day. Also effective against everything.”

  “Okay…Hmm…All right…No but I understand this, but…Damn, you all are sending all our tactics planning to hell! What do you have Mahan? You’re a Dragon, right? What’s the latest fad among you flying lizards?”

  “It’s not what I have, but what my Totem has,” I said, summoning Draco. “Tell this Druid about your abilities.”

  “As you like,” said Draco, sending Moni a list of his powers. “Are we going into battle, brother?”

  “We are. You’ll be the main warrior. It’s high time we test you in serious combat.”

  “Well hum,” the Hunched Elf concluded and turned to Kreel: “I need about thirty minutes to set my thoughts in order and revise our tactics. There’s so many new variables here, that I might even have to start from scratch. It’s looking like we’ll have to spend Mana on them after all.”

  “Kreel, you do understand that under our current agreement these descriptions of our powers won’t leave this raid, right?” Anastaria reminded just in case. To be
honest, this issue worried me so much that I only revealed Draco’s abilities. Let everyone think that I wasn’t a factor. I didn’t want to reveal my Acceleration and Thunderclap yet. Something told me that the Titan didn’t need to know about them.

  “I will abide by our agreement,” Kreel announced. “All of the information that I’ve received during this raid will remain a secret. And this goes for the abilities of my people that you have learned as well. A request to you, Anastaria—don’t try and flatter Alisa in the hopes of poaching her for Phoenix. Deal?”

  “I can’t promise that,” Anastaria smiled, baring her white fangs. “Slavery is illegal in our world. If Alisa decides to join Phoenix, then I certainly won’t dissuade her.”

  “And yet, you shouldn’t persuade her to do so either.”

  “In the context of this raid, I will refrain. We’ll see what comes later.”

  Kreel and Anastaria locked eyes in a stare-down contest, until the Siren again flashed her fangs.

  “You can’t kick me out, Titan. We have a contract that you must honor. So calm down and enjoy the game.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Kreel returned Anastaria’s smirk. “I’m willing to incur Eluna’s displeasure for the sake of my people, so don’t tempt me.”

  “I will reiterate—I’m honoring our contract.”

  “So go ahead and honor it then. We’re going in! We’ve wasted too much time here as it is.”

  Kreel’s raid party was extremely diverse. The highest-level player was Prospero—a Level 312 Human Healer, judging by his frame. The other warriors’ levels varied from 160 to 260, with players under 200 representing the overwhelming majority. In my opinion, the party was too unbalanced. There aren’t that many Dungeons in Barliona whose bosses scale to the highest-level player. And Prospero would definitely never be invited to a Dungeon raid like that, since Level 312 mobs would squash every other player in the group with a simple sneeze. Meanwhile, in Dungeons for Level 180 players, any player above Level 230 wouldn’t receive any XP. But I guess this was Kreel’s problem to deal with. If he wants to assemble a raid like this, then I suppose he has some reason for it.