Apostle of the Sleeping Gods

by Dan Sugralinov

  In the heap of system messages before, I hadn’t noticed a pack of enhancements to curse of the undead. My plague reservoir was bigger and the energy would spawn from damage at a better rate. The final notification looked like this:

  Curse of the undead enhanced!

  Plague Energy pool capacity: 100000 points.

  10% of damage taken while Curse of the Undead is active will be converted into plague energy and stored.

  You can use plague energy to increase the power of an attack at a rate of one energy point per HP of damage.

  One hundred thousand points? Now I could take down loads of creatures like Crusher in one blow! I still didn’t know who or what this Destroying Plague was, but the abilities it gave me seemed absolutely unreal. Considering that now I could turn curse of the undead on and off with basically a snap of my fingers, levelling my character had become a walk in the park...

  My thoughts were interrupted by a horn fanfare, breaking the silence of my personal room.

  Attention all sandbox players!

  Clan Axiom has successfully made the first kill of the local boss Bloodsucker in the Gloomwood! Residents and visitors of Tristad! Hats off to clan Axiom! All hail the heroes! All hail players Polynucleotide, Leonarm, Showoff, JJ, Makhan, Greykillah, Atiyakari, Luka, Gnat, Wisecracker...

  The whole Axiom raid list contained approximately forty names. I felt a slight, fleeting annoyance. After all, I could have gotten it if I hadn’t been wasting time. It had been approximately three hours since the meeting with Big Po and Irina, after all.

  My first thought was “nether with that, you can’t get every achievement.” But I could have gotten this First Kill so easily it made me mad at myself. I was just sitting here harping on, writing to the admins... Nevertheless, before rushing off in search of adventure, I needed to spend my attribute points. Five had already been added to luck and charisma at level eleven.

  I started thinking. There was no sense in relying on strength. With plague energy, my damage was monstrous as it was. By analogy, endurance wasn’t very important because of curse of the undead.

  Carrying capacity, considering my penalties to inventory, was no use at all. I could carry only three items with my current pack. And even if I bought an epic bag of the best quality for one hundred thousand gold, the highest possible number of base slots was one hundred. With my penalty, I would have a grand total of ten. For long farms, it would be nice to find a companion with huge carrying capacity...

  I left that thought on the periphery of my mind and started thinking through how the class bonuses and penalties had affected my character.

  To my skills had been added:

  Persuasion

  Current level: 100.

  When speaking with intelligent creatures, you can manipulate their minds, making their perceived reasoning less critical. In conversation, your reputation with anyone is increased by 10 times.

  You have reached maximum level in this skill!

  I opened the table of reputation values to read what the skill could do. Aha. By my estimation, neutral mobs would be friendly to me and friendly mobs would be affectionate or respect me. As for vendor discounts, the skill didn’t seem to be reflected.

  But my class penalty for discounts was. Based on my profile, all vendor prices had gone up forty-three percent. Fortunately, the penalty was only calculated on base discount value. So with my charisma bonus, the situation was gradually rectifying itself. I toyed around with it for a second: if I added all one hundred points there, my discounts would go positive and hit forty-seven percent. Great. Except for the fact that I might be doing all my trading through Undy and Overweight now.

  My carrying capacity was down, but that didn’t mean much with my limitation to inventory slots, so I forgot about it.

  And a line showing bonus to ranged damage had been added, reminding me that I was meaning to buy a bow. Was I an archer or what, at the end of the day? I smiled. Another reason to pay Undy a visit.

  My movement speed had gone up thirty percent but, running circles around my room trying to check, I couldn’t tell anything had changed. And how was it physically accomplished? Were my paces longer now? Were my legs longer? Or was I simply walking faster? I didn’t feel like anything had changed. Alright, I’d check that later.

  I returned to thinking about how to spend the points and, after doing all the math and thinking, decided on a slant toward intelligence and perception. Out of love for round numbers, I brought my other attributes up a bit and the resulting character was nothing short of a farm factory!

  Scyth, level-11 human

  Real name: Alex Sheppard.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Herald.

  Main attributes:

  Strength: 25.

  Perception: 40.

  Endurance: 20.

  Charisma: 10.

  Intelligence: 40.

  Agility: 20.

  Luck: 20.

  Secondary attributes:

  Health points: 653/653.

  Mana points: 50/50.

  Plague energy points: 258/100000.

  Recovery speed: 60 health points per minute.

  Movement speed bonus: 50%

  Base damage: 9.

  Carrying capacity: 503 lbs.

  Accuracy: 210%.

  Spell power bonus: 48%.

  Dodge chance: +31%.

  Critical damage chance: +41%.

  Vendor discount: -40%.

  Chance of receiving a unique quest: +1%.

  Chance of receiving improved loot: +2%.

  Ranged damage bonus: +50%.

  Fame: 0.

  Skills:

  Unarmed Combat: 72.

  Bashing Weapons: 1.

  One-Handed Swords: 1.

  Night Vision: 30.

  Swimming: 40.

  Stealth: 63.

  Persuasion 100.

  Resilience: 90.

  Abilities and special attacks:

  Stoneskin: 90.

  Sneak Attack: 1.

  Hammerfist: 72.

  Battering Ram: 1.

  Trades and professions:

  Cooking: Journeyman (100/250).

  Special skills and abilities:

  Depths Teleportation: 1.

  Ghastly Howl: 9.

  Herald of the Destroying Plague.

  Class skills:

  Divine Revelation (spontaneous).

  Imitation: 1.

  Dissimulation: 1.

  Divine abilities:

  Unity.

  Touch of the Sleeping Gods.

  Achievements:

  The Lich is Dead! Long Live the New Lich...

  First kill: Crusher

  First kill: Murkiss

  I Came, I Saw, I conquered – 1

  I’m on fire – 1!

  I’m on fire – 2!

  I’m on fire – 3!

  Hidden status: Emissary of the Destroying Plague.

  Hidden status: Class-Q threat with A potential.

  I took a quick glance at the description of Hammerfist and chuckled. My top attack now did just under a thousand units of damage. I was ready to farm.

  * * *

  I met him at the fountain, a much-loved meeting point for players in Tristad, on my way to see Undy. He was hanging around near a street food vendor and running his nose over the man’s wares, greedily pulling in the scent of roast meat and garlic. “Speak of the devil, which is to say the questgiver and he appears,” I thought and walked out to meet him.

  “Mr. O’Grady?”

  Touching him on the shoulder, I took a step back. Patrick was gloomy as a black cloud. Blowing his nose, at first he was standoffish and trotted out his old song and dance:

  “Boy, find a little copper for an honorary citizen...” but when he recognized me, he shuddered. “I can’t find the words to truly apologize to you, wee lad... I sent you off to certain death! Oh, no. There can be no forgiveness for me!”

  He buried his face in his hands and his burblin
g turned indecipherable. The town drunk was so sincerely aggrieved that it made me embarrassed. Did he know we didn’t die?

  “I spoke with Behemoth, Patrick. Can we talk?”

  He raised his head and opened his mouth in disbelief to say something, but couldn’t find the words. It was as if he was afraid that what he would hear might rob him of his hopes and dreams.

  “Jane is alive. She...”

  “Shh...” he stuck a grimy finger up to my lips but I wriggled away, noticing his black fingernails. “Not here, Scyth. The authorities have proclaimed monotheism. Just mentioning a god other than Nergal the Radiant is enough to get you tossed in the gaol.”

  “Uhh... So what...”

  “After me,” Patrick shook his head.

  I wasn’t sure what had greater effect: the positive conclusion of the quest or my persuasion skill, but he had stopped calling me boy and was now addressing me by name.

  All the way to the city gates, and that was where the drunkard was leading me, I was turning my head. I was seeing familiar streets but couldn’t shake the feeling they had all subtly changed. There were more priests of the luminous god than guards. Everywhere there were posters with pictures of Big Po – candidate for city council.

  Patrick maneuvered between passersby but his coordination was clearly lacking. He was slamming into people, hitting them with his shoulders and tripping over his own feet. The drunkard even fell over a few times, cursing elaborately and spraying abuse at anyone who’d listen.

  Life beyond the city walls had also changed. Although it was late evening, there was now ongoing construction where the chaotic rows of merchant stalls once stood. There were carpenters hammering benches, workers briskly smoothing earth. It was just very lively in general. I crossed my arms behind my back. Chief Councilman Whiteacre walked past surrounded by attendants. Among them I noticed Irina from Axiom. The top sandbox clan was seemingly aiming at absolute power in the city.

  “Where did they stick the people who used to hang out here?” I asked Patrick.

  “The city is expanding,” he explained. “Now if you want to trade at the walls you need a license. Black-market vendors have moved closer to the forest. There, look...” he pointed. “You see?”

  And in fact the vendors were there, a few hundred steps from the city walls. In the twilight, the strip dividing the wasteland and forest was marked by torches and magic lamps.

  “You mind walking over there?” I suggested. “I need to pay somebody a visit.”

  “If you say so, Scyth.”

  When we got a bit away from the busy construction, Patrick slowed his pace and demanded:

  “Well, come now. Stop this torment and tell me!”

  Patrick was shaken, agitated, breathing heavily. The quarter hour walk from the city fountain had not come easy to him. But we’d almost reached the edge of the forest and I didn’t want to have this talk near the vendors.

  “You were right, Patrick. The Mire really is a deadly place. I’ve never seen so many vile and dangerous beasts in my life. If not for your curse, I would never have made it alive... well, relatively alive.”

  “And? Did you meet Behemoth?”

  “Yes. Do you know who that is? He is one of the Sleeping Gods.”

  “And?” Patrick said impatiently, jerking me by the hand. “What did the Sleeping God say? Did you do as he commanded?”

  “Yes,” I replied and Patrick went pale. “But it was nothing to be ashamed of! I’m not certain what he asked you for but, in my case, the lives of the unclean beasts that live in the muck were enough to make him talk.”

  “How did you do it?” he took a step back, but I grabbed his elbow to stop him falling over. “How?”

  “Mr. O’Grady, let’s sit down. Your legs can’t hold you.”

  Patrick nodded. I helped him sit down on the grass and sat next to him.

  “Behemoth considers your promise fulfilled, although not directly. Sending me was enough. In return he upheld his end of the bargain. Jane is alive but doesn’t remember that she was ever your wife.”

  “Where is she?”

  “In Darant. Studying at the University of Magic.”

  Patrick got up, immediately forgetting about me and muttering:

  “Darant... Darant... I can get to Caraxonne on foot, then get on a ship and, by sea...”

  “Wait Patrick. The Sleeping one said you cannot go to her looking like this inhuman. You need to restore your lost appearance! Get yourself together, stop drinking... Jane simply won’t recognize you! By the way, is she the one in the locket?”

  “Oh yeah...” Patrick, starting up from the ground, sat back down. Seemingly, of everything I’d said to him, he had heard only the last part. “Can I see it?”

  “I wanted to give it back to you.” I got out the locket but didn’t hand it to him yet. “There’s something else, Patrick. Behemoth named me apostle of the Sleeping Gods and said you are to be my first follower as the only one other than me who has seen him.”

  With these words I handed him the locket. He opened it and stared at the woman’s portrait...

  Mission of Honorary Tristad Citizen, former guard patrol squadron captain, Patrick O’Grady completed.

  Experience points received: 1200.

  Experience points at present level (11): 7740/8800.

  Your reputation with Patrick O’Grady has been increased by 150 points.

  Current reputation: affection.

  Patrick closed the locket with a click and stuck it in the inner pocket of his wrinkled vest. I saw his previously hunched back straighten up, his shoulders spread wider. And a fire was lit in his eyes as if he had made up his mind to keep living and fighting for his happiness.

  “As promised, I’ll tell you my story, Scyth. You’re a good boy and have earned my trust. But I have one request. You and Behemoth are right. If Jane sees me like this – downtrodden, dirty, stinking and weak... Honestly, I hope she wouldn’t recognize me! I cannot lose her again!” He smiled bitterly. “I am prepared to follow you and the Sleeping Gods, but I ask you to help me get my wife back!”

  “I’ll do everything in my power, Mr. O’Grady...” I said cautiously, imagining the next quest in the chain would be popping up soon.

  “Patrick, mate. You can just call me Patrick.”

  “Okay, Mi... Patrick.”

  “You know, for you Scyth, I would do anything you ask... I had lost all hope. I thought I’d die in a ditch looking like this...” He plucked a stalk of grass and stuck in his teeth, staring dreamily into the starry sky. “And you know how it all started?”

  “You were captain of a patrol squadron for the city guard?”

  “Yes, I was a captain,” he agreed. “But you know, Scyth... My memories are all mixed up. I know I was in the Tristad guard, that I fell in love with a lanky thin girl with knobby knees, the daughter of a luxury fabric trader and I waited until she grew up. I also remember that I served in the Alliance army for three years during the Second Swarm War... But you know what’s strange?”

  “What Patrick?”

  “Before all that, I fought in a different war. The Third World War, as it was called. But strike me down here and now, I have no idea what kind of a war it was or who was fighting who. I can only remember who I was – pilot of a battle mech. And drag me to the Nether if I know what that means!”

  Chapter 9. Big Hello

  TOWN DRUNK Patrick O’Grady was the strangest of all NPC’s I’d ever met in Tristad. And mine, I suspected, was the very strangest of all sandboxes. I remembered his gaunt face with emaciated channel wrinkles as the nonplayer character of indeterminate age rewarded me with a curse that was the first step toward my threat status. Then the late Clayton, who controlled Dargo, took pity on me. And it all might have ended there but then the very same drunk pulled me into another story.

  I was reminded of Behemoth saying that Jane had never been Patrick’s wife and he was simply confused and had forgotten how to tell reality from delirium. And just no
w he’d brought up the Third World War... In spite of ominous predictions, it had been one of the shortest conflicts in human history and didn’t even involve nuclear weapons. There were almost no civilian deaths, though there were a few. And mechs had played a fairly big role.