by Pavel Kornev
Then again, what did it matter? I wasn’t going to break the rules, anyway. There was no way I was going to hack the system or use any of the game’s undocumented features. Firstly, I couldn’t do any of those things, pure and simple. I wasn’t a hacker, after all: I was a freakin’ bank teller! And secondly, all such actions were in violation of the contract I’d just signed: the contract according to which I was about to receive my first guaranteed payment.
Logical. I’d just made level 10, hadn’t I? Not much to write home about but it was only going to get better!
With a soft laugh, I touched my left cheek which was now covered in an ugly scar. I winced in pain. What a bitch.
I hurried outside. Before leaving the cave, I stealthed up and immediately slid behind some bushes: I could already hear the crunching of broken tree branches and the shouting of players. Coming across any newbs was the last thing I needed.
I had some leveling to look forward to.
Lots of it.
01 hr 12 min…
THIS TIME I left the city properly by using the gates. I walked out of them under the sleepy stares of the city guards and marched up the road toward the ruins still visible in the thickening twilight. If I remembered rightly, that’s where I’d once made one particularly insistent necromancer called Garth a head shorter.
This time, I was expected too. The moment I approached the ruins, the darkness in an empty doorway thickened, pouring outside and forming a black warrior in full armor, incredibly tall and burly. His helmet’s eyeslits glowed with a ghostly light. The hilt of an enormous sword showed behind his back; he kept clenching and unclenching his gauntleted fists.
It didn’t look as if he was happy to see me.
Goar the Autumnal Thunder, Paladin of the Equilibrium
“Hi there,” I said to the orc with a reckless wave of my hand, disregarding the fact that he could smash my head with a flick of his finger. “Been doing some leveling, haven’t you?”
Indeed, I could see that he hadn’t been slouching about. Goar was level 80 already.
He pulled his horned helmet off his head, revealing an ugly mug of a greenish gray tint complete with blood-shot eyes and large fangs showing from under his lower lip.
“Oh, John. Long time no see,” he growled. I could tell that he was simply too polite to add something like ‘shame it couldn’t have been longer’. “You know you’ve been blacklisted by the Spawn of Darkness, don’t you? No idea what happened between you and them by the Tower of Decay but they’d love to make you eat shit.”
He took a closer look at me and gasped. “You’re alive! And you’re level 10?! How come?”
“Just one of those things. The admins reset my character back to zero. They said he disrupted the game balance,” I offered a pre-rehearsed lie.
“John ‘One-of-Those-Things’ Doe!” he sniffed, repeating my nickname he must have heard from Isabella.
“Have you got everything?” I asked with a crooked smile.
Oh, yes. This wasn’t a chance meeting. I’d asked him to meet me by the Old Gardens city gate. Or rather, I’d told him to do so. He still owed me, any way you looked at it. Even though he’d long done the month in my service as payment for his sword, I’d reminded him of lots of other little things, like Malik’s staff and all the other trophies which he’d cashed in after my escape from the game. That was a considerable amount even by the most modest of estimations. I sure could use some of it starting out again.
I could understand now how Garth had managed to so successfully level up his characters: he simply had enough gold to throw at them. Because any way you looked at it, his main character was Barth Firefist, a level-99 Paladin, who could absolutely rake it in if needs be. Why not follow his suit?
Goar frowned, wheezing.
“Have you got it or not?” I insisted.
“Not all of it,” he admitted.
I’d expected something like that. It had been a while — and Goar was constantly short of money. Gold just slipped through his fingers. By the same token, having a powerful paladin like him indebted was nothing to sniff at, either. In my position, he might actually be more useful to me than the money.
I shrugged. “You’ll have to work it off, as simple as that.”
I wasn’t afraid of him ripping me off. He knew that this particular John Doe was connected to a certain Isabella Ash-Rizt who in her turn had some dealings with a rather spooky demon alchemist Mr. Lloyd. Goar would never dare do anything to upset them. And besides… we used to get along quite well together. Our cooperation had always been worth his while in the past.
Now, too, he twitched his flat nose, spat on the ground and reached into his shoulder bag. “Not so fast,” he said, producing a rather tatty tome bound in leather with fancy silver cornerpieces. “First, look at this.”
I took the book from him and scanned its description:
An Introduction into Clinical Surgery
The book contains a basic knowledge of the anatomy of humanoid races. Upon studying this book, the reader receives a bonus to his or her chances of dealing critical hits and crippling blows, as well as to bleeding control skills and administering first aid.
Restrictions: level 10 in Intellect
Category: single-use
Excellent! Exactly what I’d asked for!
No, I had no intention of taking up healing. I needed basic knowledge of surgery in order to practice the Eviscerator skill.
Sound weird? I bet it does. Normally, the players who chose Eviscerator were hardened warriors. The very word brought to mind all sorts of serrated swords and other blood-curdling murder tools. Still, this specialization was open to rogues as well. To slice through an enemy’s tendon on the sly; to let some blood, to blind them or rip through their guts — what could possibly be better for an agile and not particularly strong assassin? Such an opportunity to injure your enemy perfectly complemented basic critical hits. It was just too tempting to pass by, prompting me to experiment with this admittedly uncommon combination of class and specialization.
Swift, agile and deadly. Oh yes!
The monetary value of this hefty medical tome could easily cover at least half Goar’s debt. I weighed the book in my hand.
“One moment,” I said, opening the front cover.
You’ve studied An Introduction into Clinical Surgery!
Achievement received: Surgical Student
+1 to your chances of dealing critical hits and crippling blows
+30% to your chances of stopping bleeding by applying a bandage
New skill received: Flailing
The book melted into the air. Beaming, I turned to Goar. “Is that it?”
“Not quite,” he said, pouring a heap of some well-worn rags in front of me.
I crouched and began sieving through the dark leather armor reinforced with black steel rivets. A pair of gauntlets, some boots, pants, bracers, a short cloak and a sturdy laced-up jacket: all items from the same set.
Their stats flickered before my eyes. Instead of studying each of them separately, I collected them into a single set.
A Minor Shadow Set (6 out of 6)
Armor: 30
Stealth: +24%.
Dodge: +3.
Not the best of options but I could still use it until I made level 25 or so. It had plenty of room to grow.
Still, as I did up the jacket’s lacing, I winced. “It’s just a pile of junk!”
Goar’s face darkened. “Well, it was the best I could buy,” he admitted grudgingly. “I wondered what you needed all these duds for, anyway.”
I heaved a sigh and held out a hand. “Weapons?”
Reluctantly he laid the hilt of a long dagger into my hand. Judging by its dainty sophisticated blade, it just had to be Elven. Still, I could bet my life Goar had bought it as an afterthought.
I was right, wasn’t I?
Elven Dagger
Damage: 4–8
Accuracy: +5%
Chances of dealing
a critical hit: +3%
Status: rare
I fumbled with it, then hurled my sword far into the bushes. Pointless lugging it around. Its stats weren’t as good as those of the dagger, and its price, even less so.
“Very well, “ I grumbled. “Okay. It that it?”
Goar nodded.
“What about all the rest?”
Frowning, he threw his hands wide in a helpless gesture. “I’ll pay you back later. I’m in a bit of a financial strain at the moment, man. I took out all those loans…”
“You can work it off,” I decreed. “You could help me leveling.”
The paladin gave me a look of surly disappointment. I could see he was seething.
“John, you shouldn’t overestimate your…”
“Relax, man,” I waved his words aside as if he wasn’t twice my height and shoulder span. Not to mention the level gap between us.
He looked down at me, hesitant.
“It’s gonna be fun,” I assured him. “And I’ll try to send one of those nice fat quests your way. You know I’ll make it worth your while.”
He munched on his meaty lip. “I will rush you to level 20 and not a point more. Starting now!”
I cringed. “Goodness, you’re a such a bore.” Still, I didn’t insist. Better that than nothing at all.
“Do we have an agreement, John?” he threateningly loomed over me. “Just remember: I’m gonna choose and take a trophy of my own choice!”
“What trophies are you even talking about?”
“Do we have an agreement?”
Suppressing the desire to get as far from this undefeatable monster as possible, I offered him my hand. “Deal!”
We shook on it. But before we could even enter the forest and started genociding local beasties, I heard the flapping of wings. A blob of darkness dropped from the sky onto a collapsed stone wall nearby.
A vile undead bird craned its neck, opened its beak wide and squawked thunderously,
“Craaah!”
I started. Goar removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and smirked. “That’s Scarecrow!” he said.
He was right. This was my very own undead black phoenix. My ex-pet. The difference being, he’d grown a lot lately and sort of matured. His crooked predatory beak looked strong enough to split rocks; his awesome talons seemed to be perfectly capable of ripping my head off.
What a powerful beast! Vile but utterly powerful. You had to give him that.
I tried to regain control of his mind but it didn’t work. We had nothing in common anymore.
Scarecrow stared at me with his clouded blind eyes and crowed again, not so loud this time. He ruffled his feathers and opened his beak wide. His neck began to convulse until finally he regurgitated the black silver medallion: the one I’d failed to use back by the Tower of Decay.
I’d love to know whether Neo was still angry with me about it. I’d never kept my promise…
I reached for the amulet — then ducked just in time as Scarecrow attempted to give me a good peck on the head.
“Get lost!” I growled. The phoenix hissed. “I said, piss off now!”
Goar laughed deeply. “Good bird!” he said to Scarecrow.
Scarecrow’s malicious dead eyes glared at him. In several powerful wingbeats, the bird took to the sky. “Craaah!” he squawked, disappearing into the night as if he’d never even been here.
Still, I hadn’t imagined him. The heavy medallion of black silver was still lying on the ground. I picked it up by the chain and peered at its stats.
Amulet of the Black Phoenix
Regenerates 5% Life, Stamina and Internal Energy within 10 minutes.
Status: Unique, non-transferrable
Restriction: only John Doe
Additional Property: allows you to summon the Commander of the Order of the Black Phoenix
I swung the medallion by the chain, thinking.
Goar stretched his fat lips in a smile. “Gift from Neo?”
“Sort of,” I admitted. After a moment’s hesitation, I put the chain around my neck.
I’d have loved to know how Scarecrow had managed to locate me. Still, I had a funny feeling that a supernatural being which Neo had become must have had his own sources. If only I could find out if he was still mad at me! I couldn’t PM him as you can well imagine. I couldn’t ask Isabella, either: she was a Chaosite now, so I doubted she’d have any contact with a Dark entity like Neo. Having said that… if Julian was still the order’s champion and Isabella’s lover boy, I just might be able to glean something from them…
I started punching in a quick message for Isabella when Goar grabbed me by the sleeve, pulling me into the forest. “Come on, John! Time is money!
I gave up and followed him. After all, Scarecrow had brought me the amulet when he could have ripped my head off. Which meant that things weren’t so bad after all.
At least I hoped so.
01 hr 28 min…
AS SOON AS we entered the forest, darkness enveloped us. I couldn’t see jack, constantly stumbling over loose roots and branches while the armor-clad Goar barged confidently forward without making any noise.
“Wait!” I finally said. “I don’t see shit!”
He stopped and heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You’re like a child, really!” he growled, making a magic sign with his hand.
Equilibrium Vision
You’ve received a new ability: Night Vision
Side effect: day blindness
07 hr 59 min 59 sec 58…57…
The world emerged from the darkness which eased away, disintegrating into a great many shades of gray. Now I could see every leaf and every pine needle.
“Great! But listen Goar, what’s with the day blindness?
The orc growled and all but slapped his own forehead. “Equilibrium! I serve Equilibrium! Which means that in order to add something, you need to detract it somewhere else! That’s how it works! Please don’t increase entropy if you can!”
“Sure,” I muttered, puzzled. “Sure. Never mind. Come on, green monster, off we go!”
Goar gave me a long look but chose not to push it. Instead, he set off through the forest in a direction known only to him. Or not known, as the case might be. At my current level, there was no point trying to look for any larger-than-life opponents. Any extra point would do.
My first target was a powerful old wolf with a jawful of awesome teeth. I’d noticed the gray shadow flash behind the trees just in time to stealth up. The monster promptly switched target, attacking Goar instead who stood motionlessly with his arms crossed, knowing that the beast had no chance of biting through his armor.
In the meantime, I got my act together and buried my dagger in one decisive downward swing into the base of the wolf’s neck. The dagger’s tip easily penetrated the animal flesh, slicing right through his vertebras. The wolf died instantly.
Critical hit! Damage: 110
The Mature Wolf has been killed!
Experience: +90 [2093/2500]
The level is increased!
“Ha!” I shouted. “Did you see that? Did you see me smoke him?”
Goar gave me a look of pity normally reserved for mental patients. “Why wouldn’t you? It‘s only a wolf.”
“A mature wolf,” I corrected him, wishing to have the last word. I invested the newly-available points into Agility and Stealth, then ordered, “Let’s keep going!”
And so we kept going, genociding all the beasties in our path. Or rather, I did all the killing while Goar either stood nearby or pulled the predators’ aggro to himself. All I had to do was stab them in the back and receive the XP.
Having said that, XP wasn’t much to write home about. We were still a short distance from the city so the local fauna wasn’t particularly strong. The majority of my prey was made up of wolves and foxes and an occasional boar. As a result, I’d only managed to reach level 12.
Finally, the monotony of it all started seriously getting to me. Goar must have
noticed it too because he chuckled.
“It’s not much fun starting from scratch, eh?”
“Well, not exactly from scratch really.”
“Oh, John, give me a break. You’re nothing now!”
He had a point, even though I wasn’t prepared to put up with such a derogatory opinion of my rogue. Still, I didn’t get the chance to reply. We heard an angry growl coming from under the uprooted base of a giant pine tree. In one smooth, almost imperceptible motion a large bear climbed out to us.