* * *
A week after winning the Arena, teacher Greg stopped me after class.
“Sheppard,” he said, and I could read a lot in his manner of speaking. He was going to scold me. And that was what happened, although it was in a somewhat weird way. “You of course are a champion and we are obviously all proud of you... And I understand that you have all kinds of reporters, fans and groupies pestering you...”
He was right. I was being bothered constantly. In the last few days, I had been asked out on three dates, and asked to be someone’s boyfriend a full fifteen times. Right away, without any dates first. Reverberations of my fame had touched even Rita Wood. Goosebumps had been bragging that her and I were dating. The sheer number of offers made my head spin and I made the only right choice and started dating Tissa. We flew off to a deserted beach and... Well, I guess we just kissed. We hadn’t yet reached the main act yet, but I was in no rush. I was afraid to look stupid.
“... all for your benefit, Alex!” as it turned out, Greg was still talking. “I’ve already gotten it all worked out. Start pulling yourself together and study!”
“Sorry, Mr. Kovacs, what?”
“As I was saying, the Department of Education has discharged you from the Disgardium socialization program and placed a temporary ban on your character for a period of eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks?” I figured I’d misheard.
“Precisely. Snowstorm has been notified. Study, Alex. You have just four months until the citizenship tests.”
* * *
As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one banned. All us heroes of the Arena had been locked out of the game and, unexpectedly, life became very boring. School, classes, sleep. And beyond that I had the odd date with Tissa outside school. Her father, after the notification from the school, was outraged and added his own ban on her talking with us. He especially didn’t like the journalists and paparazzi; they were such a nuisance. One of them got their nose broken by Mr. Schafer, and he was put on house arrest and made to pay compensation.
Thankfully, we at least managed to get five thousand to Manny and he had managed to withdraw it for us for a small fee. Even still it was hit with a bunch of checks to prove he’d come by the money honestly. Well, without violating the game process at least. Snowstorm even got in touch with me and I confirmed I had bought ore from Manny, which he had mined in a quarry registered to no one. The money from the gambling payout and the victory prize we solemnly invested in our clan bank account. The Bank of Disgardium, although it was run by the League of Goblins, was in fact property of Snowstorm.
For the first week after our victory in the Arena, we were hounded by fans and journalists alike. Clips of our most striking battles sat at the top of popular video sites, packaged with fast facts about us. The leader of the Awoken and captain of the team Alex “Scyth” Sheppard, an archer, Melissa “Tissa” Schafer, a light mage, Hung “Bomber” Lee a warrior, Edward “Crawler” Rodriguez, a fire mage, and Malik “Infect” Abduhalim, a thief. Images of us in full gear adorned video panels in the rooms of many people our age. And our battle pets Iggy, Thorn, Whatchamacallit, Alien and Little Trunk were no less stars. As it turned out, there was nowhere to find pets like them on the market. They dropped only in rare locations, like the Nest of the Swamp Needlers.
We were idolized and, in all the hubbub, we somehow missed that Big Po had left Axiom.
Soon life got back to normal. So many things happened every day in the world that our victory lost its edge.
Crawler aged out of the sandbox and, when he returned to Dis, he would find his character in Darant in the city council visitor shelter. There he would have to undergo the same process as when he first arrived in Tristad: character creation with a scribe, with the opportunity to choose a different class or faction. If he did change class, he would lose all his high-level class skills. And if he went and joined the Dark or Neutral races, he would be teleported to a different area.
One day, I finally met up with Eve. When my Dis fever passed due to the forced break, I realized just how ugly my treatment of my childhood friend looked from an outsider’s perspective. We had a frank conversation and she confessed that she was in love with me.
“Oh, Alex, Alex...” she sighed, catching flesh-eating glances from nearby men. “I still can’t believe you said no! If you just gave a slight hint, I would have...”
Lamenting the stupidity of men, she said firmly that her feelings for me had passed. She dated Crag for some time, finding in him a kindred spirit, but something had happened after clearing the Hive and they had problems. She didn’t tell me the details.
And I didn’t ask her if he was a threat. It wasn’t the kind of question you could ask a friend. In any case, something had happened between them and they broke up. As for what Crag was doing now, she didn’t know, because she hadn’t talked to him since.
“By the way, my dad got a visit from some serious guys. So serious that dad gave them his most expensive whiskey. They had a talk, then wanted to talk to me. They had a lot of questions about Toby...”
Eve told these “serious” guys everything she knew, figuring there was no reason to be secretive. This was only a game and adults wouldn’t be asking without a good reason.
I also hung out with Rita. I told her I was dating someone else, but wanted to keep talking with her and of course be friends. She nodded sadly, admitting that she liked me from the moment we met, when she gave me the gray Large Bear Bone club.
“And you know, Alex...” Rita said. “I could tell by the way you looked at each other when you introduced us in the Bubbling Flagon. There was no mistaking it! But... Aw, forget it.”
What that “but” was, she didn’t say. Anyway, I understood. After that, we called each other almost every day and chatted like friends. She told me what was happening in Tristad and I told her about my life and school, which I was doing well in again. One thing Rita told me was that there was a new high-class threat, but I let it go in one ear and out the other. And I never lined it up with a thing she told me a few days after that.
“By the way, no one has seen Big Po for a long time...” she said. “Weird, right?”
* * *
A few days before I had to leave Tristad into the big world, I was allowed to return to Disgardium. I found myself right where I’d left the game before the ban, at the bar in the tavern.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Tashot exclaimed, wiping down glasses. “Wait up, dear Scyth, I have something to give you!”
His head dipped behind the bar and, when he popped back up, he extended me an envelope.
“This came for you from Darant, from Patrick,” he said.
I mechanically thanked him, stuck the envelope in my pocket and sat down in a chair. My whole view was obstructed by messages.
Nucleus of the Destroying Plague’s quest failed!
You were unable to pass the test and complete its initial mission: conquer Tristad!
You have lost the Mark of the Destroying Plague!
You have lost the rank Herald of the Destroying Plague!
Skill Plague Infection deleted!
Skill Herald of the Destroying Plague deleted!
Your reputation with Nucleus of the Destroying Plague lowered by 5000.
Current reputation: hate.
Was that all? The end of my threat status? Or would they just lower my class? I quickly glanced at the threat marker on my wrist:
Brand of a Class-Q Threat, with Class-A Potential
Hm, strange. Not knowing what to do now or how to get to Behemoth without my usual invincibility, I opened the envelope and read Patrick’s letter. The first priest of the Sleeping Gods wrote that he was now set up in Darant and had made acquaintances. He had seen Jane, but hadn’t been able to muster the courage to speak with her. And she seemingly didn’t recognize him. Most importantly, Patrick convinced a small tribe of troggs, who lived in the sewers beneath the Commonwealth capital to become followers o
f the Sleeping Gods. Now he and his trogg friends were impatiently waiting for our follower limit to increase. “Their whole tribe would like to join our ranks,” Patrick wrote. “There aren’t many of them. Just under a thousand people troggs.”
I sat for a bit in the tavern, drank a beer with the workmen, then spent some time with Tissa and Infect. Bomber had turned sixteen two days earlier, and he went off after Crawler. I was just still thinking about what to do next in Dis. My stats, even without the Mark of the Destroying Plague, gave me hope that everything would turn out just fine:
Scyth, level-26 human
Real name: Alex Sheppard.
Real age: 15.
Class: Herald.
Main attributes:
Agility: 100.
Charisma: 96.
Endurance: 100.
Intelligence: 65.
Luck: 105.
Perception: 70.
Strength: 102.
Secondary attributes:
Accuracy: 370%.
Base damage: 32.
Carrying capacity: 1927 lbs.
Chance of receiving a unique quest: +9.6%.
Chance of receiving improved loot: +10.5%.
Critical damage chance: +216%.
Dodge chance: +166%.
Health points: 4446/4446.
Mana points: 465/465.
Movement speed bonus: 140%
Ranged damage bonus: +60%.
Recovery speed: 300 health points per minute.
Spell power bonus: 88%.
Vendor discount: -2%.
Fame: 455.
Skills:
Archery: 75.
Bashing Weapons: 1.
Night Vision: 45.
One-Handed Swords: 1.
Persuasion: 100.
Resilience: 90.
Stealth: 66.
Swimming: 66.
Unarmed Combat: 75.
Abilities and special attacks:
Battering Ram: 1.
Combo: 36.
Crushing Hammerfist: 75.
Enhanced Quickshot: 75.
Explosive Shot: 15.
Paralyzing Shot: 15.
Slowing Shot: 45.
Sneak Attack: 1.
Stoneskin: 90.
Stunning Kick: 33.
Trades and professions:
Cooking: Expert (445/500).
Special skills and abilities:
Depths Teleportation: 7.
Ghastly howl: 21.
Class skills:
Dissimulation: 5.
Divine Revelation (spontaneous).
Imitation: 5.
Lethargy: 3.
Liberation: 24.
Divine abilities:
Unity.
Touch of the Sleeping Gods.
Achievements:
Morituri te Salutant! – 1
The Lich is Dead! Long Live the New Lich…
First kill: Crusher
First kill: Mok’Rhyssa, Rock Queen
First kill: Murkiss
First kill: Chuff, Queen of the Swamp Needlers
First kill: Shog’rassar, God of the Sarantapods
I Came, I Saw, I Conquered – 1
I Came, I Saw, I Conquered – 2
I’m on Fire! – 1
I’m on Fire! – 2
I’m on Fire! – 3
Divine emblems:
Shog’rassar’s Protection
Pets
Iggy, level-30 swamp needler
Hidden status: Class-Q threat with A potential.
Even without the cheater abils from the Destroying Plague, my character looked formidable. Thanks to my high charisma, my vendor discounts were almost in the green despite the nasty class penalties.
We didn’t want to go farm. That was how the first day in Dis after the ban went, and all the rest were the same. It was no longer fun for us to level in the sandbox, and our speed was severely reduced because were now above the maximum level of the mobs. So I only went into Dis to wait out my required hours, spending almost all my time in the tavern.
The next day, Tashot put on yet another mini-tournament. I wasn’t going to take part in view of my clear superiority in level, but I figured it could be entertaining to watch.
“You should drop by one of these days,” said Master Sagda in a break between fights. “I’ve got some new stuff I could teach you.”
He couldn’t teach me much. My Unarmed Combat had only gone up three levels since our last training session, but still I promised to pay him a visit.
And the day before I left into the big world, there was an outbreak of the Destroying Plague in Tristad.
* * *
On my last evening in the sandbox, I quickly ran through every memorable place. I started with the city council, where I came bearing sweets: a box of hot buns, a jar of strawberry jam and a package of candy. I gave them to Carlson the scribe.
I talked with Chief Councilman Whiteacre briefly, because he was in a rush to go see Mrs. Grossman. As it turned out, Whiteacre’s now ex-wife had discovered her husband’s dalliances, taken her belongings and the kids and brought them to her parents’ in Jingling Glades, a small village on the border with elven lands. “Dog!” she said to her former husband in parting. “Just so you know, I never loved you! And you’ll never make anything of yourself!”
Whiteacre didn’t agree about the last one, he thought he had excellent prospects. Clearly he had convinced Mrs. Grossman of that, because she agreed to marry him and they quickly tied the knot in the temple of Nergal the Radiant.
Whiteacre, in reply to my condolences, gave a broad smile:
“Listen to me, boy. Life has taught me that all changes are for the best. I only now realized how unhappy I was with Claudia. And I never would have seen it without shaking things up.”
I left the city council in deep thought. His words got to me somehow.
After that, I dropped by Bu aka Master Sagda, but he refused to say goodbye, instead telling me Tristad had been getting on his nerves and he was getting ready to leave for the Lakharian Desert where the frail mortal shell of the great Grandmaster Oyama was located.
“It takes a long time for news from there to reach the outside world but, according to a group of novices, the grandmaster raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he is stopping his meditation and preparing to return from the astral plane,” he said with hope.
We agreed not to lose touch and meet up again someday. Who knew, maybe Sagda would be able to introduce me to Grandmaster Oyama.
Hunter Conrad, my archery trainer, simply gave me a hug and told me where to find his trainer in Darant. He said that I was the best student he ever had and, if I kept up this pace, I could be looking at a very high place in the Games. The Games were something like our Olympics. All factions took part, so they elicited huge interest from the whole world. Both worlds.
After that, I dropped by Chef Arno and we exchanged warm goodbyes. My farewell with Tashot was even warmer than that. Solemnly, to thundering applause, he hung our portraits on the wall.
I didn’t know who drew them but they came out very true to life, although there was some artistic license: The artist had made Bomber’s lower jaw twice as big, Crawler was given burning eyes, and Infect a cunning gaze and aquiline nose. And my portrait, a lip protruding in scorn, looked down haughtily. It gave the impression that I might lose control at any second and spit in your face. Tissa was luckiest of all. The artist had just made her breasts twice as large. And that only increased Tissa’s popularity.
Then she, Infect and I took a tour of all the important sites from my history. We strolled through Gloomwood, visited the island in the Mire where I first met Behemoth, then went from there to the Olton Quarries where I didn’t see anyone I knew. While we waited for teleport to cooldown, we ran through Evil from the Depths for fun and nostalgia. Just the three of us cleared it without curse of the undead or plague damage. An easy run.
All new noncitizen followers of the Sleeping Gods went to Darant and there m
et with Crawler. He teleported them to Kharinza in groups. They built us a clan fort, changed their respawn points there and harvested resources in peace. Dying gave them no penalties other than a temporary dip in attributes, so they weren’t bothered about dying by the claws, hands and teeth of the Montosaurus. Well... that might be a stretch. They did have one hundred percent pain, so Crawler and Bomber did their best to pull Monty, as they fondly called the lizard, away from the workmen.
Apostle of the Sleeping Gods Page 46