There were other mysterious monsters around. The locals had no idea about their nature nor where they came from. Apparently, the natives had woken up from a seemingly eternal sleep just a couple of days ago.
What kind of dream was it?
Cryogenic sleep. It was the magic of the Ancients. These islands existed in immemorial time. But then something very bad had happened, all the natives suddenly began to fall asleep, and completely turned to stone — in the literal sense of the word. The last of them had time to remember that their islands had begun to shake, to go under the water, which quickly swept over the fertile valleys and mountain peaks. The islands plunged into the abyss. And then came back two days ago … for many, the approaching ships were perceived as saviors, thanks to whom the land had risen again to the surface of the water, and the islanders awakened at last…
It was surprising that the Ring of the World remained the same as it was before diving — as if every tree and every flower was protected by an unknown force. But the Wings of War emerged in mud and desolation. Yesterday, when we arrived, the winged scouts had time to look around and even create some maps of both “wings”. They had brought the image to us.
And here they were, in front of us - two giant islands in the form of bird wings. Birds’, not dragons’. They were feathered, when you looked from above. Each feather was a long and relatively low mountain. There was a whole chain stretched from one end of the island to the other. When viewed from the side, each wing looked like an old-fashioned, ribbed washing board. There were long and narrow valleys between the wings. The valleys were lakes of seawater which rapidly flowed into the ground. At the same time, there were heavy rains – it rained only above the Wings of War. Water washed off the excess mud, and it washed off sea salt, which heavily stained the rocks. The ocean around the islands was muddy brown. The rivers of garbage were picked up by the current and quickly carried away.
Today was early sunny morning. The dried valleys began to cover themselves with a green cape of plants. Ferns and bamboo grew fast- stretching to the sky right before our eyes. Various animals began to move among the ferns.
We had only three pets with us. Kolyvan, Tyrant, and Doc’s snake, whose name I either did not know, or forgot. But I remembered that the snake had once been visited by the goddess Snessa. Therefore, we traveled with three unusual assistants – one a legendary beast, and the two others - divinely endowed. Or something like that. The other pets remained in the Ring of the World, helping Kaylen and Kira - they worked as porters and messengers. We had three pets. We had labored with their size for the first few hours. The small snake did not bring any problems. The situation improved, but not before all of us were coated in mud. I vividly remembered Ravendark, and trudging through the island to the old wooden hut. These memories brought me such joy.
I was smeared with mud, pushing the shaggy bum of the mammoth up the mountain and ignoring his wet tail, which kept beating me in the face. I caught myself thinking that I was absolutely happy. Yes — I was happy. Just yesterday, I had been dressed in silk, an expensive shirt, I stood on the command bridge of the main ship of the monstrous sea armada, drank old expensive wine, and looked down at everyone. And now I was wet and dirty, and my pet looked like a damp lump of sheep’s wool, with his fangs and pink tongue sticking out of his mouth. An extremely difficult road was waiting for us ahead, but I was happy anyway.
And then we were at the top…
Reaching it, we exhaled with relief. We congratulated Bom. Even Cray felt better and stopped looking at the abyss with doom.
Bom was busy. The half-orc fell to the ground and sucked everything in like a living vacuum cleaner, while fighting with Kolyvan, who was trying to have a second breakfast. Bom shoved the hungry trunk away from the green bushes, tearing off the stems with his other hand. Various shells and unusual corals were also thrown in there. There were colored stones, some mushrooms, and strange flowers. I got caught up in the excitement and thirst for profit. We did not have much time. It was a little break, for just a couple of minutes — and then we had to descend into another narrow valley, which looked full of greenery. What was waiting for us there?
“Amber,” Doc said in surprise, looking at the thing in my hands.
“You’re right,” I snorted, lifting my discovery higher and exposing it to the rays of sun. “Amber … wow ...”
“What’s up there?” The half-orc was interested.
“Some kind of micro-monster frozen inside,” I shrugged my shoulders. “It looks like a nasty bug. Such a creature will cause hysteria among many. I do not know what it is. A mosquito of the Cretaceous Period? Was there such a period in Valdira?”
“I am not a historian. Is it worth money?”
“How would I know?”
“Hide it in the sack, we will sort it out at home.”
“G-i-i-ve it to me!” A thin, long-fingered hand stretched out towards me. The bald elf’s face livened up — it displayed a cunning grin mixed with hope.
“Hold on to it,” I said, giving him the object and commanding — “Move forward! Kolyvan descends first! I had enough of the first time, when we were nearly knocked down from the path.”
And the troop went down. From above, we most certainly must have looked like a huge dirty tadpole descending from the mountain into the wet, green valley. The mammoth was the head of a creature — and we, well, we were a kind of wriggling tail. One thing delighted me, in any case - C.A.P.S. was not here! Life immediately became much easier. However, patrons of local lands were here - one on each wing. We were now on the left island, and the local “daddy” had already been discovered by other players. But he turned out to be a peaceful creature. And he was five mountains and six valleys away.
“There went our neighbors,” Cray said, pointing to one side.
There were several adventurers stomping below us along the slope, wearing colorful capes. We could see them clearly against the bleak landscape. There were five of them, with two pets. They were not the Sleepless, but still, one of us. It made me glad - several armadas had already gathered at the Ring of the World. They were competitors. The Great Navigator quietly stomped up the dirty mountain slope, moving away from his powerful allies with every step. Well, even so — here I could not be attacked. Monsters could be killed, but players could not. Therefore, I was not worried.
I waved to the fellow travelers, and we continued on our way, quickly overcoming the remains of the slope and plunging into thick vegetation. It was all jungle here — not the usual forest. We immediately felt rain. Dozens of small bugs and tiny snakes flew down together with the water. As a team, we stomped on the bugs and killed them. They were very poisonous – last time, Cray’s face swelled to impossibility when he was bitten by a pink snake with orange rings on its scales. The gnome survived, but he could not talk for a minute. An entire minute!
I remembered the new generation of diseases from the Golden Templar clan - those were much worse. Their effects were monstrous in both strength and duration - what was the worth of a battle mage who could not speak, and therefore, could not use magic? On the battlefield, such a character was useless.
The newborn jungle smelled of the sea. There were white spots of salt, quickly disappearing under streams of pouring water from above. Shells and skeletons of mysterious huge fish crunched beneath our feet. We stumbled upon the giant skull of a toothy fish behind a wall of ferns. Bom did not fail to collect at least a dozen triangular sharp fangs. Last time I tried to trek through such a valley, I had made a mistake, deciding to burn my way through the jungle with the help of fireballs. I hoped that the damp plants would not flare up all at once. I was right — the ferns did not burn at all. They only hissed, emitting clouds of thick and obstructive smoke. We almost got lost. I would never repeat this mistake again.
The old good machete - the golden classic meant for all adventurers! Bom and Cray cut down our passage through the jungle, and Kolyvan followed them. Orbit sat on the mammoth’s head. Do
c sat behind him, and finally, Tyrant stomped along. And I? I was walking around— sometimes at the front, and sometimes at the end of the pack. Every now and then I sent a spell to cut down the vegetation. It took practice. But I tried to work my new spells. Malice had given me quite a few new ones as a favor for helping the armada cross the ocean.
We had not yet seen any large monsters in the jungle. The keyword being “yet.” We had already heard ominous sounds coming from all sides — howling in the distance. There was barking, and piercing hisses. So it would be more correct to say - we had not yet come across the worst of the monsters, but they were there, and multiplying.
Successfully hacking through the ferns, which granted us a plus to stamina and minus to wisdom, we rested a second on the next slope and then began to climb again through the mud. Once again, the marching order had changed. It was already automatic — all acted independently and correctly, which pleased me as the group leader.
And here was the purpose of the journey - as soon as we overcame the ascent, we saw the ruins of the old building. Narrow slits of windows, thick walls, and one rusty door remained. A tower. At the highest point of the oblong mountain were the ruins of a once functional observation tower. Perhaps this was an ancient watchtower where peaceful travelers or hunters could sit out the bad weather, get warm by the fire, hear warnings from guards about nearby forest bandits out for blood, or packs of hungry wild wolves. All as usual — the same as on the old continent.
“Step one, get to the destination — done,” said the half-orc, reading the screen visible only to him. It was his quest — we were just helping Bom, and would receive a share of the reward.
“Make sure that there is no danger around you, and plunge a magic staff into the ground,” continued Bom under his breath. “Staff is ready … is there danger nearby?”
“Do not think so,” shrugged Doc, acting tough. “Well?! Anyone here?! Come out! Wherever you are! And I will … oh ...”
The ruins of the tower rose to six joint armored paws, the building turned and stared at us.
The stone filled up with red, molten light and eight eyes arranged themselves in two vertical columns. We saw a toothless, broad, salivating jaw with lot of small black teeth. Instead of a hair, it had a cap of dead algae, a crimson muzzle with two tiny nostrils. Instead of hands … the left was a two-fingered arm in armor, which barely held the monstrous muscles inside. And the right hand was slightly thinner, but longer and ends, and holding a beautiful trident.
“And I will …” continued Doc already behind our backs. “And I will introduce you to my friends!”
The monster opened its mouth wide and bellowed, creating a long, hoarse echo. We were covered with sticky saliva. The trident dug deep into the ground, and the creature jerked forward. A red inscription appeared over the ruins of the revived tower:
Lugr the ghoulish.
Nightmare of the Dazhullah.
Level: 300.
Strong and gluttonous
The creature is so ancient that it has long been forgotten. But once the Lugr was widely known. It was worshiped by the race of swamp creatures, who brought it frequent and abundant sacrifices. So it was until the goddess Snessa banished him.
Do not be afraid, reading these frightening lines - you have nothing to fear, because Lugrs were long ago destroyed!
(Note: more details about the nightmarish five idols of Lugr can be found in the Crimson Bestiary).
“How lucky that the Lugrs were destroyed, right?” Doc said, in a thin voice. “Yet, what a realistic hallucination … perhaps, a mass hallucination? Have you also took a bite of those black-and-yellow mushrooms under the leaves of a fern?”
“To battle!” I yelled, throwing up my arms, already charged with fighting magic. “Tyrant, back!”
There was a short, hoarse roar, and Lugr the Cruel leapt forth. The upper, dilapidated part of the tower jerked to the ground, and sheaves of algae, clods of dirt, and heavy bricks fell down from it.
A lump of dirt fell onto me. A brick flew into the helmet of Bom, and the gong almost overpowered the malicious curses of the half-orc. But I heard Doc’s quiet, surprisingly sober words clearly in the midst of this wild turmoil:
“We will not be able to kill him.”
Here, I completely agreed with the doctor. The level was too high. We knew this because of the description — this creature was worshiped by a whole race. This creature was a supremely powerful being. Worse yet, it was stated that the Lugrs were destroyed —yet, they had managed to survive and hide thousands of nautical miles away from the old continent. They disappeared to the land where the Snessa has no power. Into its dead zone, and beyond her divine influence. He came here over the ocean floor. And during his travel under water, the Lugr had built himself up to be a total a nightmare.
“Stick in the staff, Bom!” I shouted, pressing my back to the wolf and holding a shield in front of me in a desperate attempt to defend myself.
Hit! Cray was knocked off his feet, and flew headlong into Doc’s stomach. Together they tumbled through the mud.
“Stick in the staff!”
“It says – only if there is no danger nearby!” Bom roared in response, leaning forward as if against the wind of a hurricane. Except the wind was mud and stone.
“We may fail the task, boss! What then ?!”
“No choice! Do it!”
The discontented mammoth trumpeted wildly and stepped backwards.
Sprawled out on the mammoth’s fuzzy head, the elf thoughtfully studied the ugly enemy, gently stroking his favorite knife. The risen Doc hastily cured Cray, and they walked slowly towards us together, intending to regain their positions.
“I need it,” the skinny elf said distinctly, clearly having taken the final decision.
“What?!” Bom and I barked in unison.
“It,” a long finger pointed exactly at Lugr the Cruel. “Alive.”
“Catch that bastard alive?!”
Another roar and streams of sticky saliva made it clear that Mr. Lugr the Cruel did not like the criticism about his appearance.
“Not catch… Ge-e-et…”
“Orbit, are you insane?” I screamed in rage. “This is a trap! He is stronger than we are! Get to the mammoth! Bom, Let us hold off on the staff, get on! Tyrant! Here!” I pointed in a direction, and my pet obeys and began to run.
I had to play the role of a magician-healer. Doc was busy with Cray, at the same time hitting the mammoth with his healing whip. Acting as the leader of the group, I could see the rapidly dwindling mana of Doc, who was supporting us with three powerful auras at once.
“Catch!” I sent the unfortunate doctor a small bag with a long strap. It had ten pockets inside, each of which held a big potion of mana. “Put it on your shoulder, quick! And drink them!”
“Thank you!” He said, and hurriedly drank a potion. “I have some supply myself, but it is going too quick…”
Then the two of them — Cray and Doc – fell to the ground, the life of the gnome seriously decreasing as a fragment of log collapsed on top of them.
“Get up! Get up!” I yelled at my muddy comrades, paying no attention to the demands of a crazy elf, who continued to insist on catching the monster alive.
My stunned friends dragged themselves to Kolyvan, miraculously avoiding the second half of a thick black log. As soon as I got there, I took out two silver pegs from the saddlebag, and stuck them into the earth:
“Shield!” My cry did not give an echo, but between the stakes a quivering turquoise shield appeared and successfully deflected a pair of large stones thrown by the evil creature.
For a while, we were safe. We were in home base. With all of us in one piece— including the bruised mammoth. We had a few minutes. It was not a protective dome, but only a magical wall artifact, often used in war to cover combat mages and siege machines. The Lugr was mobile, but only barely - I had already managed to see the strain with which he was carrying the heavy “shell” of the destroyed
, ancient watchtower.
My next act was also quite logical - I drank two mana potions one by one, making up for the costs. Doc also swallowed the blue liquid - with such greed, that it seemed as if it were the elixir of the gods. Color slowly returned to his face. The healer had almost lost Cray, miraculously pulling him back from the other world. Another blow - and the gnome would have taken flight to a location of revival very far from here. Although, perhaps somewhere closer— but either way, not on the map. Cartographers had not yet managed to remove flaws and inaccuracies from them.
The magic “curtain” shook under the blows of the stone and mud hail, and the Lugr raged, howling wildly. At the same time, he did not move far – maybe couple of meters.
“So …” I breathed, wiping the black mud from my face. “Orbit, what … hey! Bom! What are you doing?”
“Cannot you see?” Bom growled, trying to tie a large stump of logs to the side of the mammoth - the very same oak that almost killed Cray. “It is a stained oak! Do you know how much that costs?! It is money! A pile of money in the form of a log! Can you hold it for me?”
“I will not! Phew … Tyrant! Have a drink!” I tore off a piece of parchment with the bowl drawn onto it. A container filled to the brim appeared on the ground – the water tinted red. A life potion.
Tyrant reached for the bowl, but a trunk pushed him away. Kolyvan drained the bowl with one huge gulp. Bloody hell…
“Both of you drink!” I tore off the two scrolls, giving both pets the opportunity to make up for the lost power. How arrogant Kolyvan had gotten! Pushing a legendary wolf aside!
“Orbit!” I began again, making sure that I would no longer be interrupted. “Why do you need this monster? Not to kill him and make him a ghost, right?”
“A ghost? No. Who needs a dead lu-g-gar?” The elf was amazed.
“Then why weaken the monster?”
“It is necessary!”
The Way of the Clan 9 Page 2