by Pavel Kornev
Oh no, thank you very much. Mr. Lloyd had just offered me a perfect plan of how to escape this predicament and even gain from it, so that’s what I should be doing. And then we’d see.
At that moment, Lloyd shook himself back to reality. “I asked Goar to come here now.”
“You have to be kidding!”
“I sure am,” he said sarcastically. “As if I have nothing better to do with my time!”
As it turned out, “Robert Yard” had told me the truth. Barth’s old mansion on Amber Square did exist.
“And seeing as all the expenses regarding the organization of this, er, expedition seem to be entirely on me,” Lloyd added, “a 20% commission shouldn’t sound too excessive. If we set up a bottom line of a million and a half, that’s a million two hundred grand net for you.”
“How much?” I protested. “Where did you see such fees? I’ll pay you three percent!”
“But how about me arranging for Goar to help you? And the portals? Also, this isn’t a sure thing! I’m risking my money!”
“I’ll sort it out with Goar myself,” I said, adamant. “And as for paying for the portals... here, take this.”
One by one I laid the molten pieces of the Silver Grail out on the table.
Lloyd’s eyes opened wide. “What the hell is-” he must have realized what he was looking at because he gasped. “Never give a gun to an idiot...” he reached for a magnifying glass and started studying the charred metal. “But how did you do it, Holmes?” he finally said. “How did you manage to destroy an indestructible object?”
“It just happened,” I habitually repeated my signature phrase.
Lloyd rolled his eyes. “So how much do you want for.. for this?”
“If our expedition is successful, you can keep it. If it isn’t, you use this to cover your expenses, and the rest we’ll share fifty-fifty.”
He made a show of hesitating. “Well, I really don’t know...”
“But I do!” I slammed my hand on the table. “This metal bears residual holiness as well as the vibes of Chaos. You could use it to make either protection against Darkness or a weapon against the same. The resulting object won’t be just unique: it will be impossible! The Moon Grail could neither be destroyed nor altered to make something remotely useful out of it. And now it’ll be like putty in your hands!”
Mr. Lloyd shrugged. “Very well, I believe you. The only question to be resolved is getting the money out. That’s not gonna be easy. I can do it for 10%, or you’ll have to find someone else to do it for you.”
After some deliberation, I agreed to his terms. I wasn’t going to get a better offer anywhere else. And even if I did, there was no guarantee that the money would ever make it to my account. Legally, this whole thing was a brain-twister. It was about trust more than anything else.
We agreed on conditions, and I uploaded all the necessary bank details. By then, Goar had arrived.
“I’m not gonna interfere,” Lloyd warned me, lowering his green glasses back onto his nose. “If push comes to shove, I can offer you a loan. You know my rates.”
“Thanks but no thanks,” I replied, feigning confidence, as I headed into the conference room.
Goar was already there, pacing the room like a trapped animal. “I’ve been waiting for ages! What did you want from me?”
“I have some work for you.”
He tapped his fingers on the helmet he’d removed. “Shoot,” he finally deigned.
I gave him a quick run-down of the situation, not mentioning the ultimate goal of our foray, but making sure I listed all the potential consequences.
Goar made a face. “Raiding the Lights isn’t a problem,” he said after a short pause. “But we’ll also have to travel to Inferno which can be quite hot. Plus we might encounter an ambush. All in all, quite a risky undertaking.”
“We’ll have the scrolls, don’t forget,” I said. “Portal scrolls.”
“Why the hell would you even need that wretched skull?”
“Sentimental value. Okay?”
Goar cringed. “Yeah right. Thirty grand.”
I whistled softly. “You don’t want much, do you?”
“That’s none of your concern,” he grinned. “So do we have a deal or do we split? I ain’t got time to shoot the breeze.”
“Deal,” I grumbled. I really had no choice. “Payment on completion.”
“Won’t do.”
“Whenever haven’t I paid you?”
“Sorry, I’ll pass,” he repeated, unwilling to listen to my arguments.
I reached for my bronze amulet. “How about the Hand of Fury?”
He hesitated but promptly bought himself back in check. “Its nowhere near thirty grand. And I can’t use it, anyway. It’s a Chaosite item, isn’t it?”
“I still would like you to take it, just as security.”
He shook his head. I had to try a different approach. “How’s your private life here?”
He suppressed a cough and stared at me. “What are you driving at?” he growled, flaring his nostrils.
“Aren’t you fed up of running around all alone? Apart from you, I don’t think I’ve ever met any Equilibrium followers at all here.”
“And?”
“I know this Orc girl. Level 52, a Shaman. She’s a bit disappointed in Chaos and might be willing to consider the teaching of the Universal Equilibrium and all that shit. If I offer her this amulet...”
Goar’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Keep talking, John. Keep talking.”
“If I offer her this amulet, she’ll be more than willing to join us. You’ll have plenty of time to convert her. Also, she should know some kind of fire protection. She’s a Shaman, after all.”
That got him thinking. Finally, he asked, “Who is she?”
I showed him Arkha’s profile. He took his time studying it, frowning and biting his lips. Spending all this time in game alone can’t have been much fun for him. Equilibrium didn’t attract many followers and even fewer orcs.
“I don’t need an amulet to pick her up,” he finally announced.
I shrugged. “Whatever. You’ll be a fine couple. I might even introduce you to her.”
Goar frowned. “You? What’s the catch?”
“I killed her, didn’t I? Not once but twice. So I could write to her straight away and tell her I’ve got a friend who’d love to meet her...”
“Shut up!” he growled. “You sure she’d give her consent to this?”
I had no idea what exactly he meant by this but I knew better than to taunt him. So I just said, “She’s just spent six months stuck in a deserted temple. You really think she’s got many friends left now?”
He nodded and offered me his enormous mitt. “Deal. But if she doesn’t join us, it’s thirty grand. Plus the amulet.”
We shook on it.
02 days 08 hrs…
We ported to the capital of Light via the Crimson Moon Tower. Trying to slip across the border illegally would have been way too risky as well as pointless: as an Equilibrium follower, Goar wasn’t really an enemy of anyone. Conveniently for us, the death of the Grand Master of the Order of the Silver Phoenix had resulted in Arkha being expelled from Chaos. And as for me, I still hadn’t had the chance to side up with any of the parties, so technically I too remained neutral. The only problem we could face was an encounter with headhunters, but the Lights seemed to have much more control over their territories. Fingers crossed.
Still, Goar’s first date with Arkha very nearly ended in bloodshed... and considering the level gap, it would have been my blood. The moment she’d arrived, the orc girl went for me with all the resolve of a bulldozer. The only thing that had made her cool down a bit was Goar’s presence.
I prudently took cover behind Goar’s broad back, then very nearly jumped out of my boots when someone crept up on me from behind and laced their arms around my shoulders.
“Don’t worry, kitten,” Isabella cooed. “She doesn’t bite, do you, my pretty?
”
What the hell was she doing here?
This time Arkha had clad herself in leather and wool, so the only person who could in all fairness call her pretty was someone like Goar who’d spent too much time wearing an orc’s guise. Still, somehow Isabella’s words had managed to defuse the tension, preventing Arkha from cleaving my head by way of greeting and allowing Goar to start his spiel about all the advantages of true neutrality that only Equilibrium could offer. The orc lady listened to his tall tales rather favorably, to the point when she agreed to take part in our little foray in exchange for the amulet she coveted.
My other assumption also proved right: she was indeed capable of maxing out Goar’s fire resistance. In the end, we decided to set off without further delay.
When we approached the Tower of Power, Isabella took me aside.
“Take this,” she said, sliding a strange-looking stone rune into my hand. The artifact was heavy and warm. I could still make out a weak glow.
Warily I accepted it. “What’s this shit?”
“It summons a third-circle demon. Use it if there’s no other option available. Just remember that he’ll kill you just as he will everybody else.”
I whistled in amazement. Mr. Lloyd had already provided us with enough potions and portal scrolls and even given me a couple of activation-ready alchemist traps. In my eyes, we had more than enough but Isabella seemed to disagree.
In actual fact, I hadn’t mentioned the raid to her at all. It must have been Lloyd who’d spilled the beans to her, and he must have had his own reasons for doing so.
“Good luck!” Isabella gave me a peck on the cheek and stepped back, giving place to Neo.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged and pointed at the amulet hanging around my neck. “Call me when you need me. I’ll go anywhere to help you, even into the Lights’ den.”
“Thanks,” I slapped him on the shoulder and headed toward the Tower.
An explosion roared somewhere by the city wall, its flash momentarily obscuring the dull sunlight. Then the smoke-covered sky and the blackened walls disappeared.
We stood in a spacious square complete with fountains and a small park. Street musicians played; the aroma of fresh bread rolls filled the clear fresh air.
And every single person around us was a Light player!
For a brief moment, I felt lost. My hand instinctively reached for my sword. Still, no one seemed to have any intention of attacking us even though the passersby’s stares were filled with undisguised astonishment. I wasn’t the center of attention though. All eyes were on Arkha and Goar. It’s not every day you get to see a neutral orc: these bloodthirsty green brutes were believed to be Chaosites by default, or at least followers of the Dark side.
Ignoring the curious glances, we left the Tower of Power and hurried to make ourselves scarce, diving into the maze of little side lanes. Having said that, they were quite busy too.
“You have any idea where to go?” Goar asked, apparently ill at ease. Arkha just followed silently in our wake: she’d never been to the territories of Light before.
“I do,” I summoned the map and followed its instructions, leading my little team through the maze of streets.
Without the map, I would have been long lost. The capital of Light turned out to be much bigger than its Dark counterpart. It was absolutely packed with thousands of players. Luckily for us, few were idle, whiling away the time at the café tables: most seemed to be in a rush preparing for something. New groups kept teaming up, then immediately disappeared in the light of constantly flashing portals. The place was a true hive of hectic activity.
And this was supposed to be downtime. We’d made sure to coincide our little raid with the hours of least traffic.
What I found strange, no one had stopped us. Nobody had even attempted to attack the two orcs even though we couldn’t see guards anywhere and even though there were quite a few players whose levels were even higher than Goar’s. The capital of Light had indeed proved to be full of, well, Light.
Had it not been for the constant events and the unending war on Darkness and Chaos, Light players might have long died of boredom. But in this case, this idyll suited us to a T, allowing us to walk unhindered and unthreatened.
Once we reached Amber Square, we split up.
“First you need to clear the way for us,” Goar said, motioning Arkha to stay where she was.
“Where are you going, then?”
“We’ll grab something quick to eat.”
I sighed. My stomach was rumbling too but we hadn’t come here to waste time on cafes. Likewise, taking the orcs with me now probably wasn’t a good idea. They were too conspicuous. If this pair of hulks as much as tried to force their way into the mansion, the guards would raise hell, that’s for sure. It would be much better if I checked the place out myself. Burglary and penetration required a cold head.
That’s how it happened that Goar took Arkha into one of those shady little lanes. She walked next to him casting excited glances around like an obedient little girl albeit green and bulky with fangs to match. But me, I could still remember her wild breast-flapping shamanic dance, so I had no doubt that sooner or later she’d go back to her carefree Chaosite lifestyle. She might even convert Goar for all I knew.
Having said that, it was entirely his problem. I had my hands full with my own.
I didn’t even try to enter the building through the front door. Instead, I walked the narrow alley leading to the small garden at the back surrounded by a tall cast-iron railing topped with sharp spikes.
I wouldn’t have been able to pick the garden gate lock even if I’d tried so I walked around the neighborhood and pilfered a half rotten but still rather strong barrel from under a drainpipe. If I climbed on top of it I could in theory jump over the fence but first I had to check if there was some alarm system installed there, either mechanical or magical.
Observer!
Internal Energy: — 175 [215/390]
As soon as I’d received the message, a countdown began, bringing the world into focus. Things began to make sense. Somehow I knew that no one had bothered to install an alarm here.
I stealthed up, jumped onto the barrel and leaped over the spikes which topped the fence. My well-leveled agility prevented me from ending up being impaled on their rusty tips and allowed me to land noiselessly onto a path filled with large grains of white sand, right under a neatly cut bush which safely concealed me from any potential onlookers.
I unhurriedly studied the small groomed garden, searching for any traps or guards, then peered at the mansion’s windows and back door. Here, I got an unpleasant surprise: all the ground-floor windows were protected by the purple shimmer of alarm charms.
Not good. Not good at all.
The world blurred, coming back to its normal state. I rubbed my eyes, walked back to the gate and pushed the bolt open. But the moment I turned round to head for the house, I noticed a small Elf wearing an impressively heavy tool belt — a gardener or a guard — and was forced to dive back into the bushes. What was even worse, I noticed a massive silver whistle hanging around his neck. If I made the tiniest mistake, the guy would raise hell, that’s for sure.
I had no desire to kill anyone but I doubted that the orcs could pass here unnoticed. So I had to play it safe.
I soundlessly approached the guard from behind. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for nothing that Elves were known for their fabled hearing. This one, too, froze in mid-step, his hand grabbing the whistle.
Damage dealt: 180!
Crippling blow! Damage to your opponent’s larynx!
The Elf had managed to dodge my attack, so the black blade of my dagger barely glanced across his throat, failing to crit and kill him in one fell swoop. At least he couldn’t raise the alarm now: his damaged throat prevented him from either using the whistle or even screaming.
I dug my nails into his hand which was reaching for a weapon. Twice
more I buried the blade of my Rotten Tooth in his ribs, then finished him off by stabbing him under his shoulder blade. The guard died even before his face hit the ground.
I dragged him into the bushes, covered the blood stains on the path with sand, then finally searched the body. Unfortunately, he had no keys on him, nor even the alarm-controlling amulet.
I studied the building once again. This time I stopped my choice at one of the second-floor windows next to a drainpipe. From there, it didn’t take me much effort to climb onto the rather wide ledge and break the window frame with my dagger. I did make some noise though, simply because I didn’t have an appropriate skill to do this.