by G. Akella
"You think you're old," the prince chuckled. "But I will answer your question. Neither my kin nor the king's had taken part in the Kaerinean Carnage. If you didn't know, following the tragedy the Nightcrawlers exacted from Cloverleaf three times the normal price for each of their fallen. Two of the four Houses turned light following the War of the Great Rift, Nakilon is dead, and Dylaernus was slain by Kohegrym. There is no one left to wreak vengeance, warrior!"
"I know that Nakilon was the druid king who banished the Nightcrawlers' House, but who's Dylaernus?" Max asked, somewhat stunned by the barrage of new information.
"Dylaernus was the Great Prince of the House of Eventide. He and Nakilon were both survivors of the Kaerinean Carnage. The four High Houses that came out against the House of Nightcrawlers were dubbed Cloverleaf. Two Great Princes perished in the ensuing battle, along with Great Prince Laorayne. Seven months after that, his son Kohegrym took his revenge on Dylaernus for the death of his father."
"What brought on the conflict in the first place? What did the king have against our House?"
"That is a long story, Max, but one that I will gladly share with you following your return from your Great Prince with an answer. For now, I will only say that one of the reasons was probably the fact that Kohegrym had a stronger claim to the crown that Nakilon's own daughter, Amelia. Let's save the rest for later—I'd rather not delve into the intricacies of elven politics at this time. Take a look at this," sitting back in his chair, the prince moved the cups to the side, and unfolded a medium-sized map. "This is the Wild Wood," he said, pointing out a piece of land in the eastern section of the Great Forest. "The Darkaan army is likely to march from the southeast, which puts your kin right in their path. I doubt that the Misty Border will stop the Ancients. There's too much bad blood between us and our light brethren to forge any sort of meaningful alliance, even in the face of common danger. I'm even grateful to the demons for blocking off our borders. And there's been plenty of discord between us and humans over the recent centuries. Having said all that, they have succeeded in repelling the Dark Empire's army once," Goherym turned to the portraits on the wall, "so why can't we? At the very least, we owe it to them—to the memory of their noble sacrifice—to try. Do you see now the gravity of the task I wish to entrust upon you, warrior?"
You've accessed the quest: Peacemaker.
Quest type: unique.
Deliver Great Prince Goherym's message to the head of the High House of Nightcrawlers in the Wild Wood.
Reward: experience, variable, increased reputation with the dark elves, increased reputation with the High House of Marten, increased reputation with the High House of Morning Dew.
Attention! Reputation with the dark elves, the High Houses of Marten and Morning Dew will drop to unfriendly for refusing or failing to complete the quest.
Attention! The time for completing this quest is limited. The quest must be completed within three months.
"You are aware of how difficult it will be for my party to reach the Wild Wood?" Max asked the prince, having accepted the quest.
"Believe me, that is the least of the difficulties standing before you," Goherym said to him. "When you and your friends are ready to set out to the Misty Border, let Orwil know," the prince gestured at his son, who had been keeping mum all this time. "He will give you supplies and direct you to the border of the Wild Wood. But don't delay, Shadow, for we haven't much time at all—if the Ancient Ones' army is already assembled, it will be crossing into the Great Forest in six months' time."
Too many impressions for one day, Max was thinking as he walked out of the prince's tower. The Americans, Alyona's story, the girl with the fox's tail, and concluding with an audience with the head of a High House. The Tylwyth Teg had said that nearly all the adventures his party was destined to undergo were somehow connected with Roman. These Ancients were an entirely new development. And Lemuria? What an odd name... As to this supposed impending invasion into the Great Forest courtesy of some transformed freaks, what was that about? A preprogrammed game event or a spontaneous development? The fact that the prince had specifically mentioned needing the help of players suggested a planned event, but wouldn't that require gathering together a critical mass of level-appropriate players and promising them all manner of phat lewts? How else would you entice people these days given the new developments of pain sensitivity and losing one's hard-earned levels in the event of death? Worst of all, the vast majority of new arrivals still regarded this world as a game, and didn't give a hoot about some supposed beef between elves and a race of doghead creatures they had never seen. What was Max to do—shout from the rooftops about the grave consequences of the Great Forest's destruction?
"Hey, man, hold up!" his musings were interrupted by a level 180 ranged named Tarzan who had blocked his way. "What was your business with Orwil? Spit it out!" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
A dozen or so other high-level players were gathering around them, all wearing the colors of the High House of Marten.
I see the resemblance, Max snickered to himself. Dark skin, protruding ears, massive lower jaw... Give him a monkey's tail and he'll be swinging off branches in no time.
"Are you deaf or just a dumbass noob?" inquired Monkey Boy—as Max had so aptly christened him—squinting menacingly.
"If you're referring to Prince Orwil," he replied, accentuating the title, "then go and ask him yourself."
Ignoring the clamor begotten by his response, the warrior headed for the consulate's open gates. He might have made an enemy just then, but Max had always responded to boorish behavior in such a manner—it was the only language the aggressors understood. He wasn't concerned about the guy's level—not with NPC patrols swarming the city that would wipe the floor with anyone engaging in player killing.
"Do you not get where you are, numbnuts?" grabbing Max by the shoulder and spinning him around, Monkey Boy hissed in his face. "You think anyone is going to kill you? You're wrong. I'll just take you down to half your HP bar and watch you squirm. And I won't even blush when—"
He didn't finish the sentence. A powerful blow bent the ranger in half, taking off close to a third of his life.
"My, my, my," mused a level 300 rogue NPC as he slipped out of invisibility. The fanciful pattern on his sleeve marked him as belonging to the nobility. "I'm disappointed. Don't you know the consequences of insulting the guests of our House?" he inquired pointedly, casting a heavy gaze at the gathered players. "And since when is the Great Prince's business any concern of yours? Are you that eager to be deployed to the eastern front? Am I to report this incident to Captain Dianel?"
"Throw this one into the cold cell," the assassin commanded to three figures that appeared behind him, motioning at the panting ranger. "As for the rest of you, get back in the barracks! If I see any one of you again before dusk, you'll be deployed to the east at daybreak tomorrow. Dismissed!"
The crowd cleared instantly and without a single objection, to Max's considerable surprise. Evidently, in addition to the many benefits of belonging to such a faction, it endowed upon its members certain obligations. Of course, every family is bound to have a clown—that was simply the way or the world.
"Ryhn Arminas," the assassin introduced himself. "My personal apologies for any inconvenience, Max. Your mission is so important to our House that the Great Prince had bid me and my party of five to accompany you for the remainder of your stay in Ellorian."
"Thank you for intervening just in time," Max said with a nod. "I'm very grateful to Prince Goherym for his attention to my humble person, but—"
"Trust me, you won't even see us unless there's a need," the ryhn interrupted him. "There's unrest in the city, and you simply aren't aware of some of our people's many customs on account of your origin. Our overly inquisitive friend there," the assassin gestured at the ranger being taken away by the guards, "is the least of the problems you might encounter. Despite what some may say, many still haven't forgotten the Kaerinea
n Carnage..."
"Well, then, ryhn, I won't stand in the way of your orders," Max shrugged, then turned and made for the gates. He had no secrets left to hide, and refusing help from five level 300 NPCs just didn't seem very prudent.
Chapter 8
"Come on, Donut, have some Hangoaway," Ellanca kept prodding the rogue. "Quit suffering, you're making the rest of us miserable!"
The assassin was indeed a pitiable sight—his forehead slimy with sweat, his trembling hands nearly spilling the contents of a cup he would occasionally bring to his lips, then set back down as if exhausted by the monumental effort.
"First of all, that thing costs one gold per serving. Second of all, what the hell do I need a twenty percent reduction to all stats for a whole day?" he demurred with a shiver.
"What reduction?" breaking from his breakfast, Luffy looked his way in surprise.
"You can thank the World Health Organization and their crusade against drinking," said the rogue with a sigh. "We might have left the real world behind, but the debuff is as real as it gets."
"You've only yourself to blame, you know," Rexar butted in, pushing his plate away. "Like you really needed those two extra shots to finish that letter of yours."
"Quit it with your moralizing, will you?" Donut frowned painfully. "I'm nauseous enough."
"That's right, quit hounding him!" Masyanya stood up for the rogue to everyone's surprise. "As if you brainiacs have never done anything you regretted."
"Is that really you, Masyanya?" Bonbon's incredulous voice broke the ensuing silence. "Have you been replaced? May I touch you? What if you're just an illusion?"
"Touch yourself instead, and I need not tell you where," the huntress snarled without any apparent malice. "Who knows—you might get lucky and find something!"
"Enough, you two," Max gave a soft clap on the table with his palm to draw attention. "We need to decide on our next steps."
"What's there to decide?" the mage shrugged. "We chat with the Blades and snuff out Cenatodone. And then, assuming you didn't dream your audience with the great prince yesterday, we head to the Wild Wood."
"Why would I have dreamt it?"
"Well, for starters, in your story the ruler of a High House sounds a bit much like Santa Claus!"
"How so? Was he supposed to chop my head off first—before asking me to deliver his message to the Wild Wood?"
"That's nonsense, Luffy," Alyona chimed in to support Max. "The prince has the most to gain from Max delivering the letter. And I doubt he harbors any illusions regarding the patriotism of our people—I'm sure he'd seen enough of us by now to know better."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, unless he's a complete idiot, his behavior is entirely justified. But it's not his behavior that concerns me—it's the fortune-teller Max had run into on the way there."
"Oh, that?" the rogue waved dismissively. "There are tons of those scattered all over the realm—one for each player. They're designed to infuse some drama and theatrics into the game."
"But she knew about Roman!"
"Yes, and? She is still a prophet, right? Of course, the prophecy she offered is pretty novel, I'll grant you that—at least I've never heard anything like it. But we have more than enough on our plates to worry about her."
At that moment there came a slam of the front door, and the assassin's pained face spread into a smile.
"Look who it is! Good to see you, bro!" he shouted, waving emphatically toward the door.
Having already located his recent acquaintances from the threshold, Alex nodded and headed over to them.
"Have a seat," scooting to the side, the rogue patted on the wooden bench. "Why are you so glum? And where are your people?"
"Hey guys," after shaking all the hands extended to him, the ranger took a seat. He seemed pensive, and the others tactfully waited for him to collect his thoughts. Eventually he spoke up. "Merit and Kevin have decided to eschew adventure in favor of order. Three hours ago I put them on a caravan to Gryvenia, where a lord from the House of Marten is said to be recruiting our kin. They have ten levels to go before they can enlist, but they should be able to do that on location."
"What about you?"
"What about me?" Alex shrugged. "I'm not done adventuring just yet. And I've had enough of army life back in my former one. I can understand my sister—their lives had been pretty sheltered before the game, but me..."
"Why don't you join us, then?!" the rogue exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Are you serious?" the ranger looked around the table expectantly.
"Serious as a heart attack! Look, we already have a pair of reliable tanks and healers. And with us, you're going to be neck-deep in adventures before you know it. That I can promise you."
"That's interesting. What are your immediate plans?"
"In the next few weeks we're set to take down a unique raid boss. After that, we'll head out to the Wild Wood to visit Max's new family."
"Come again?" his brow creased, Alex looked around the table skeptically. "The Wild Wood? The local zones are all level 150 and above! And you'd need to pass a dozen zones pushing 200 just to get there!"
"We're on a mission from Orwil, the Great Prince of the aforementioned House of Marten," Donut continued, clearly enjoying the effect his words were making on the ranger. "Anyway, after our visit to the Wild Wood, we'll be off to Darkaan in search of the main temple of Kirana, the goddess of vengeance."
"You're joking, right? This is all just a ruse at my expense?" Alex peered intently into the faces of players gathered around him. Seeing not a trace of mockery, he let out a sigh. "I'm probably crazy for doing this, but what the hell! Throw me an invite, would ya?"
"You never did say how things went at Setara's shrine," Ellanca inquired of Alex after the barmaid had collected all the empty plates off the table and withdrew.
"There's not much to say. Three gold per person and three minutes to tell your story. Justice ain't free, not even in this world," the ranger said, staring off into nothingness. Then he rubbed his eyes for some reason and frowned. "What the hell..."
"Oh, did your damage output just jump by a third?" Donut was savoring every ounce of their new mate's bemusement, evidently recognizing a kindred spirit in the American, and getting back at the ranger for yesterday. "We Slavs are a mysterious people, indeed—each one a friend of the Great Forest and personally marked by the goddess of vengeance," he poured it on. "Oh, and our fearless leader, Sir Max of the Middle Finger, also happens to be Protector of the Great Forest!"
"Sir what of what now?" the ranger looked to Max in exasperation.
"The Middle Finger," Donut repeated, grinning from ear to ear as he demonstrated Max's dubious title. "Oh, and wait till I tell you about his girlfriend's brother and his—"
"Enough," Max cut off the assassin's verbal stream. "Let's not get into that just yet. One hopeless alcoholic per party is quite enough."
"Agreed, leave the poor guy alone!" Ellanca echoed their commander. "Give him time to catch his breath!"
"You guys are no fun," Donut drew an ostentatious sigh. "All right, Alex, here's the story from the beginning..."
The whole tale took the rogue no more than ten minutes to recount, touching on all the main points without going into too many details. When he was finished, a silence hung over the table that lasted a solid minute.
"Well? Does that change your mind about joining us?" Rexar grunted, looking at his fellow ranger.
The other shook his head, then gave an affable smile.
"Are you kidding? You guys are the luckiest bunch of SOBs I've come across since starting this game. Hell, you're going to need to drive me off with pitchforks if you want me gone!"
"I wouldn't be so quick to judgment if I were you," said Max, hoping to temper his zeal. "But I think I speak for us all when I say, welcome aboard!"
"Tell me this," the new companion said after a moment's pause. "What do you intend on asking the Blades? Handing over a unique bo
ss on a silver platter for another clan to reap the benefits... that's got to be worth something."
"Half the loot, I suppose?" Max shrugged his shoulders.
"Half the loot is a given," said the American, laughing. "Do you have any idea what a clan stands to gain for slaying this, this..."
"Cenatodone," Masyanya helped him out.
"Right," he nodded. "Don't forget about the bonuses. One raid group may be limited to forty percent, but there are also the bonuses for individual achievements... and that's not all! The boss' head will be a treasury trove of reputation gains for anyone involved in the battle. You can expect to be on friendly terms with not only dryads, but half the hostile mobs in the forest!"
"That's exactly what I was saying!" Donut touched the Max's shoulder, nodding at the ranger. "The guy is spot on!"
"I don't want to appear presumptuous..."
"Presumptuous?" the ranger burst into another fit of laughter. "As far as I know, before the patch the Azure Dragons' main raid group boasted a fifty six percent boost to damage output—that's including crit bonuses and their raid leader's title. Why, killing this lizard would catapult your buddy's clan into the top twenty in one fell swoop! And since you're the only one who can summon the boss, a present of that magnitude would be worth millions—when calculating by the old ways, at least. Of course, you Russians never were good negotiators. Need I bring up Alaska?" he added with a teasing smile.
"Do you know what's odd?" Luffy interjected. "The game is four years old at this point. Didn't folks used to get these quests before?"
"They sure have. In fact, we have a good precedent here: Ksenjhuan, the head of the Azure Dragons, once paid twelve million bucks for the coordinates of Volaak's cave. The boss ended up dropping an amulet, among other things, that was later appraised at twenty seven," said Alex.