by Pavel Kornev
Julian cracked a condescending grin. “We’ll battle through,” he beamed as he caught Isabella’s approving glance.
“Are you ready?” Isabella asked Grakh.
‘Yes! Move out!” the Barbarian barked.
The Black Trackers were the first to advance into the blind alley. I hurried after them to point them in the right direction.
Scarecrow circled the sky above the rooftops. With his help, we had no problem sticking to deserted lanes in order to avoid groups of players regardless of their affiliation. Goar had been right: here in the city, orthodox Darkies had the upper hand, storming the Chaosites’ fortifications, rounding them up and posting pickets.
The game had acquired a yet unseen urgency, especially for those hapless players who’d picked the wrong side. Still, the balance was a sacred thing which might endow the Chaosites with quite a few unique skills and abilities for their troubles. Freebies like those were worth dying for; they were probably even worth selling your soul for — in real life as well as in the game.
You think I have a bad opinion of the human race? I wish.
Having met no one on our route, we finally delved into a maze of windy side lanes when we were jumped by three players hiding in a gateway.
“Darkness or Chaos?” they shouted before they could even work out our affiliation.
“Equilibrium!” Goar snapped, shaking his sword. Confused, the players quickly made themselves scarce. Not one of them was above level 50: our group was way out of their league.
At the next crossroads, I raised my hand, motioning everybody to stop. The embankment lay before us, with a picket posted on a stone bridge across one of the wide channels. The entry to the bridge was barricaded with furniture looted from the neighboring houses. Several archers wearing identical black armbands were sitting on it.
Although there were barely a dozen Darks there — whom we could handle if push came to shove, — there were also two figures in gray robes, standing still by the pentagrams chalked onto the paving stones further on.
Scarecrow banked into a steep turn, allowing me to take a better look of the casters.
Shit. They were demonologists. There was no knowing what kind of legions from hell they might summon once we tried to battle through.
I told Isabella about this sudden hurdle.
She cringed. “Don’t even count on me. I haven’t quite restored yet.”
“The next bridge is too far from here,” Grakh said, frowning. “We’ll have to take a detour across two more islands.”
“My time is almost up,” Goar growled. “How about you?” he squinted at Julian. “Can’t you get us through?”
Julian shook his head. “They’re not my clanmates. They won’t listen to me.”
“Then we’ll have to battle through,” I said, not seeing any other way of reaching the far bank. “Get ready!”
I stealthed up, seeing no reason to continue this pointless conversation. There was still a slight chance of some particularly observant guard noticing me due to my insufficient stealth level, but luckily, it never happened. I jumped onto the parapet and walked right past the barricade, while none of the archers was the wiser.
They must have used very average players to block the bridge: people who were more than happy, for a few Reputation points, to serve as a living shield for the demonologists who were the ones I had to deal with.
I knew perfectly well that no amount of luck would allow me to take out both of them. I had to think out of the box. I chose one of them: a grim woman who appeared to be the more dangerous of the two. Still standing on the parapet, I threw my magic lasso over her and yanked her toward me while launching myself at the other caster.
The woman shrieked as her body hit the water below with a splash. I already stood behind the other demonologist’s back: a Dark Elf, his robes adorned with complex embroidery.
The undulating blade of my flamberge sliced through the puny caster's chest.
Powerful Blow! Critical Hit! Damage dealt: 1070
Player Ron Brother of Abyss has been killed!
Experience: +1220 [107 239/114 000]; +1220 [107 283/114 000]
Darkness: -50, Chaos: +17
He dropped dead onto the cobblestones, right in the middle of his own pentacle. Luckily, no demons got the chance to come to our world, but even without them, I didn’t have it easy. The other players all came for me at once, and no amount of dodge could have saved me from a few direct hits. My breastplate repelled some of the blows — but even so, I’d immediately lost a good 25% of health.
Death was imminent — until the barricade flew into the air in a cascade of burning debris. It was Goar, Prince Julian and all of the Black Trackers trying to turf the bridge defenders off. The archers didn’t even get the chance to loose off a single arrow before they were all mowed down, followed by the warriors. Finally, Isabella made the river water boil, cooking the female demonologist alive.
“Let’s get going!” she shouted.
We rushed over to the opposite bank.
We managed to cover another couple of blocks without a hitch when Scarecrow screeched at the top of his lungs.
I reestablished my link with him and surveyed the area from a bird’s eye view. “Watch out!”
A dozen mounted Valkyries appeared, galloping three abreast toward us along a narrow side street. This in actual fact saved us: in the resulting melee of men and horses, we managed to fight our way into a gateway and across a courtyard that opened up into a quiet boulevard that led toward old Lloyd’s shop.
“This way!” Isabella shouted as she dove into the shop’s back yard. As soon as the gate closed shut behind the last of the Black Trackers, we heard the horses’ hooves clatter over the cobblestones outside: the Valkyries rode past without noticing us.
We’d made it.
Time left: 29 days 19:55:49…
ONCE IN THE SHOP, Goar elbowed his way to the counter and poured all the scrolls out onto it.
“I’ll be waiting for my cut!” he warned us before logging out.
Seeing as only three of the Black Trackers had survived the last skirmish, his leaving had considerably shifted the balance of power in our little group. I cast a wary glance at Prince Julian, but he was too busy fawning over Isabella like a lapdog.
Lovey dovey, bah.
“Stand in line!” Ulrich ordered. “I can’t serve you all at the same time!”
First, he took the scrolls off the remaining Black Trackers who then promptly logged out, too. Now Grakh was the only one left in the shop. The burly Barbarian posted himself by the window and looked out onto the street, not even trying to conceal his anxiety. He didn’t dare hassle Isabella.
Still, I’d love to know what kind of dealings they’d arranged behind my back. What kind of consequences might it have for me?
I heaved a sigh, then opened my status tab.
Strangely enough, I hadn’t received the PK mark despite the fact that I’d killed that demonologist back on the bridge. Neither had any of the others. Did that mean that the devs had issued all players a license to kill and do as they pleased? Not a good idea. That way, the Chaosites might not end up being the only victims; in fact, everyone might start slaughtering everyone in sight.
But as soon as I saw a new bar entitled Darkness/Chaos, everything fell into place. Its slider had barely moved — but if I continued to smoke Darkies I might be automatically switched to the Chaos camp.
What an elegant solution: to gather all the scum of the earth under the banner of Chaos where they truly belonged. Because true Darkness was the epitome of true order, the kind that the powers of Light couldn’t ever aspire to.
Having said that, the Lights had their own share of hangups, too.
Neo’s voice awoke me from my musings. “Uncle John!” the boy called, going down the stairs. “Your chalice!”
He gingerly held the Moon Grail by the chain in his outstretched hand, clearly fearful of accidentally touching it.
I wa
lked up the stairs and took it from him. “Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.”
His smile betrayed obvious relief. The boy slid down the banister and walked out into the back yard.
I stroked the cold silver side of the Grail and stashed it in my inventory.
“Kitten!” Isabella called as she took a set of regenerating potions from the shop assistant. “You’re the last one! Turf out your stuff! Don’t keep us hanging about!”
I began unpacking all the scrolls, books and parchments, laying them onto the counter. In the meantime, the priestess gulped all the colorful elixirs and waved her hand in the air, casting a portal to places unknown.
“Wait a sec,” I said, alarmed. “What about the money?”
“The scrolls will be auctioned off,” she said. “That way we might get more for them. Come on! It’s time we got out of here!”
“Where to?”
“To my mistress’ tower. Staying in the city is too dangerous.”
The door opened a crack, revealing Neo’s curious head. “Can I come with you, Auntie Bella?”
“Come here,” Isabella said, making some kind of sign over him, then did the same to both Grakh and Prince Julian.
The fact that she’d ignored me didn’t sit good with me. “Wait a sec. What was that now?”
Isabella laughed. “Didn’t you see what was going on in the city, kitten? Darks aren’t gonna be welcome in the lands of Chaos. My mark will protect them. It’s a bit like the friend-foe system.”
“Well, that’s nice for them!” I said, indignant. “So I don’t need your protection, then?”
“Kitten, please. Use your brain. First, you’re not a Dark one. Secondly, you already have my mistress’ mark. Have you forgotten about the altar? You’re now a latent Chaosite, kitten.”
Grakh and Julian exchanged meaningful glances, then guffawed.
I cringed. “Sounds a bit suggestive, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry. Only the most observant of them will sense the Chaos in you. And you should be staying away from them, anyway.”
She couldn’t have made her hint at my undead nature any clearer. I shrugged. “Just forget it.”
Ulrich coughed theatrically. “Would you mind getting the hell out of here already? This thing makes me nervous,” he said, pointing at the portal.
Isabella smirked. “As you wish,” she walked over to the portal and motioned us to follow her. “Don’t lag behind!”
We tagged on after her.
Time left: 29 days 18:47:33…
NIGHTFALL. A grim tower, built with brown stone veined with scarlet. A huge crimson moon, hanging high in the sky.
The small town nestled on the empty prairie. Not a single light disturbed its dark expanse which reached to the horizon. But the town itself resembled a disturbed anthill. The place was bustling with workers busy building fortifications out of granite blocks and magic. Countless NPCs were digging moats, supervised by priestesses who placed holy relics in the foundations.
The town was preparing for a siege — and it didn’t look as if they’d make it.
In any case, why was it night here?
As I voiced my question, Isabella gave me a funny look. “That’s how our protection manifests itself,” she deigned to reply. “This way, we’re safe from any attack for three months.”
Grakh coughed, attracting our attention. “I’ll go, then?”
“Please do. They’re waiting for you in the temple.”
The Barbarian dashed into the night. Isabella followed unhurriedly.
“Where are we going now?” I asked.
“The Sisters will put us up in the guest house.”
We strode along the dark streets of the little town.
Three months of never-ending night? The idea gave me shivers. The dead might be used to the pitch blackness of underground tunnels, but three months? That’s a bit too much.
Shit! What was I talking about, three months? I only had one month left! One month!
Twenty-nine days, eighteen hours and how many minutes?
And in this relatively short time, I was supposed to earn over a million XP points? 1,300,000, to be precise. What guest house was she talking about? I had to go and start smoking mobs ASAP!
Strangely enough, Isabella seemed to have lost all interest in my problems after her recent outburst. She walked in front, talking to Prince Julian as if nothing had happened.
“If you don’t take the orcs’ territories into account, the lands of Chaos are scattered all over the world,” she was telling him. “I don’t think we’ll be able to unite them.”
“Don’t the Light have their share of renegades too?”
“They do, but far fewer. It’s still not quite clear to us which of the enclaves will fall and which might become the harbingers of the new world.”
Harbingers of a new world? Was she off her rocker?
I was dying to shout, You’d better get on with your work! Are you a lieutenant or not? Still, I didn’t really feel like airing our dirty linen in public. Prince Julian was the last person I wanted to hear about my problems.
Dammit! Why would Isabella suck up to this nonentity?
Was I jealous? The thought caught me unawares. I have a mental chuckle. I was indeed. I could say I was jealous! At the moment, I needed her undivided attention. All her in-game time should be devoted exclusively to me. And instead, this “lieutenant” was making eyes to a total stranger! That just wouldn't do.
I sighed. Neo was walking alongside me, staring curiously around. Talk about carefree.
And he was immortal to boot. Not the fake immortality of human players — he had the whole of eternity in front of him. Or... at least until the last server of the Towers of Power shut down. Which was still nothing to sniff at. He had more time than me, that’s for sure.
Neo watched Scarecrow soar back into the sky. “Uncle John, what’s with the all the gold we get from the scrolls? Would you like to take my share?”
I really wanted to say yes. I was dying to. I even knew what I’d spend it on. Still, I shook my head. “You keep it.”
“What am I gonna do with it?” he asked in surprise.
“What about the Order’s treasury? You’ll have to recruit more followers and build new temples,” I stopped and snapped my fingers. “Wait a sec! Are you sure you have at least one temple already? Where are you going to respawn if you get killed?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he said. “I received that shrine in the mountains, didn’t I?”
The young Commander of the Order of the Black Phoenix lingered behind, pensive, while I caught up with Isabella and Julian. Just as we walked past the central entrance of the Temple of the Crimson Moon, Grakh came running out of it, shouting,
“It worked!”
I stared at him, trying to pinpoint the change in him but noticing nothing new. He was still the co-chairman of the Black Trackers clan. Then my gaze fell onto a new line in his status:
Guard of the Crimson Moon
Grakh had switched sides and joined Chaos? Why was he so happy, then?
Prince Julian proved quicker off the mark. “So!” he drawled, turning to Isabella. “His whole clan has sworn allegiance to your mistress?”
She smiled. A shimmering crimson haze enveloped her, merging with her own aura, empowering her and filling her with incredible force. She’d become the High Priestess!
My jaw dropped. How come?
“You’d better shut your mouth, kitten,” she said, “before you catch flies.”
“We need to talk!”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Later!” she snapped, turning back to Graph. “Can you open the portal on your own, guys?”
“We can,” he replied. “But we’ll do it tomorrow.”
The outline of his body began to flicker, then faded as he logged out.
Today had been a real day of surprises, dammit! You sure could say that. I stared hard at Isabella again, but she didn’t allow me to utter a w
ord.
“Not now!” she quipped as she started to skirt the temple.
We walked all the way around the grim edifice, then threaded our way through a maze of narrow passages and blind walls, leaving behind the flashes of magic, the shouting and the bustling of the builders. It was now completely dark; even the ominous light of the Crimson Moon couldn’t penetrate down here.