The Road East (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 2) (Fayroll)

by Andrey Vasilyev

  “Abilities? Oh, come on. What are the instructors for?”

  “The instructors are fine, of course, but they can only teach you so much. After Level 100, there’s no point in even going anymore. There are a few quests that let you learn new abilities, too, but you have to get them. Sometimes, set items get you abilities, too, though only when you have the whole set—and that’s incredibly hard to do. Plus, the abilities only work when you have the whole set with you.”

  That’s for sure. I recalled how getting my hands on the sword for my set would give me three abilities. What quest will the twins add the sword to? I wondered.

  “Long story short, dungeons are really the only place you can get new abilities. There, you can get them from a monster, a boss, or even a chest—but only the first time through. That’s it. You can beat them as many times as you want and get all kinds of goodies, but you won’t get scrolls. Then a little while later, the dungeon disappears, only to reappear somewhere else. Randomly.”

  “Got it. So the Hounds came across a new dungeon. By the way, how do you know they’re new? I mean, besides hearing someone say, ‘Oh, hey, that wasn’t there yesterday.’”

  “When you go in, you hear fanfare. That’s all. Once you kill the final boss, the dungeon is beaten, along with everything we just talked about. That’s why you always save the boss for last. First, you make sure you’ve explored every nook and cranny.”

  “But what if you just don’t kill the boss? Wait for the respawn and—”

  “Oh, aren’t you clever? Nope. Nothing respawns until you beat the boss. But, like I said, he doesn’t always have the scrolls. They could be in chests, barrels, piles of trash in dark corners…anywhere. It’s absolutely random.”

  “How do they divvy up the scrolls they find?”

  “They don’t. Scrolls belong to the clan and are given to the players the clan leadership deems worthy.”

  “So, the scrolls only work once?”

  “Of course.”

  “I wonder what you’d get for one of them at the auction,” I said thoughtfully.

  “Quite a sweet chunk of change,” answered Gerv with a nod.

  I abruptly went back to the original topic. “So, what happened with the Hearts and the Hounds?”

  “Well, naturally, the Hounds found a dungeon on the edge of the Fettakh Desert, so they set up a pennant and guard just like they’re supposed to,” said Gerv with some enjoyment. “Everything on the up-and-up. But then fifty Hearts showed up and claimed it was their scout who found the dungeon and therefore their right to sweep it. The Hounds’ guards told them they didn’t know what was going on, that they were just told to guard it. But they figured that the pennant flying there meant it belonged to the Hounds.”

  “And they were right,” I agreed. “All fair and square.”

  “Exactly. And the Hearts really should have just chewed out the scout who left without putting up a pennant.”

  “If there was ever a scout, to begin with,” I noted.

  “Good job. Maybe there wasn’t one. But they didn’t really appreciate the finer points of the discussion and just took out the guards.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “Quite. Then they beat the dungeon and, when the Hounds lodged a complaint in keeping with the rules, they claimed they were in the right all along. And then, they added that they didn’t care who thought otherwise.”

  “Almost like they were looking for a fight.”

  “Could be true,” Gerv said thoughtfully. “There are a lot of people out there who aren’t comfortable with the Hounds’ growing power. That means everyone else is seeing fewer recruits, too.”

  “Like us,” I said, almost in a whisper.

  “Like us,” confirmed Gerv. “The days of lone wolves in the game are ending, and the game world is changing. Only idiots and the blind can’t see that. What are you staring at me for? This world is just a copy of the one we actually live in. Could a lone wolf make it in the real world? Doubtful. You have to join the system.”

  “…or die?”

  “Why die? That’s a bit extreme. It’s more that you’ll stagnate without anything to implement or work toward. No prospects. No money. What do they say? ‘A good artist is a starving artist.’ It’s a great phrase, but how many paintings have you seen that were done by starving artists? I imagine they were all thrown out with the trash when they cleared out the attic closets those starving artists lived in before they died. Lone wolves are yesterday’s phenomenon, really; these days it’s all about corporations and conglomerates.”

  “So, the Hearts decided to provoke a fight with the Hounds while they still had a shot at beating them?”

  “Yes, I think that was their plan. But things didn’t happen the way they were expecting, or, at least I imagine, according to their intelligence. They underestimated the Hounds, and that has cost them dearly. We’ve had three battles so far, and the Hounds have railroaded them every time—not without our help, I might add. After the third battle, something like 60 percent of the Wild Hearts deserted. The clans supporting them were gone after the second.”

  “They just gave up?”

  “Well, fighting for a successful clan, and one of the best in the world, is one thing while fighting for a clan that just keeps getting beaten is quite another. And a lot of people are in the game to beat quests, collect items, even craft things. When they make you go to war, get chopped up in battle, sit there waiting for hours… People just give up and walk away.”

  “Understandable,” I said sympathetically.

  We had gotten to the commander-in-chief’s pavilion by that point, but we were in no hurry to go in. Gerv obviously wanted to make sure I was up to speed, and I found the whole thing fascinating. It sounded like I would be there for a while, so I needed to know everything.

  “Everyone that’s left is locked up in their main citadel.” Gerv jabbed at the castle near the river with his finger. “We hemmed them in there, and soon, the main assault will begin. They’re really good—mostly experienced veterans.”

  “How many times have you attacked so far?”

  “Twice. The first time was right after we pushed them back in there, and the second was yesterday.”

  “Not so successful?”

  “Oh, no, it’s not that. It was just a skirmish to feel out their defenses. Today, we’ll take the castle, and they’ll have nowhere else to run. Okay, let’s go inside.”

  We walked into the huge pavilion, and my first impression was that it looked even larger from the inside. There were about fifteen people sitting and standing, though I only recognized Elina as I glanced around. She saw us and waved.

  “Oh, you’re here. Finally! Come here, we’re about ready to start the attack.”

  “Let’s go.” Gerv gave me a shove.

  We walked over to Elina, who was at the far end of the pavilion. She was standing next to a modestly, even poorly, dressed woman of short stature.

  “Where did you find him?” Elina asked Gerv.

  “In Mettan. He just logged into the game—apparently, he didn’t have internet.”

  “Oh, come on, leave the poor guy alone,” interrupted the woman I didn’t know. On the other hand, I had a good idea who I was standing next to.

  “Still, orders are orders,” muttered Gerv.

  “Agreed.” The unfamiliar woman stretched out her palms.

  She had slightly graying hair, and she wasn’t particularly attractive though she had a highly expressive face and unusually vivid eyes. There was also a strength to her—or even the magic of power. I’m not a fan of clichés like “inner strength” or “magnetic charisma,” but it was like there was some kind of waves radiating out of her. How can I explain it? Waves of potential energy. Almost like she could have just reached out and crushed the Wild Hearts’ citadel with one sweep of her fist if she needed to.

  “Have you figured it out?” She looked at me with irony.

  “Your faithful servant,” I said, not with
out a fair bit of pathos, while getting down on one knee and bowing my head.

  “Oh, come on, I don’t like any of that—and we don’t do it here.” She pulled me up onto my feet. “We’re all equals.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “It’s just that some are more equal than others.”

  “What’s with the attitude?” The woman looked at me reproachfully. “Bad day?”

  “Something like that,” I nodded. “I was tired. I logged into the game, and there I was, thrown right into the deep end.”

  “Kept you off the deep end of that boat, if nothing else,” chuckled Gerv.

  “At least, we’re finally getting the chance to meet. As you no doubt have already guessed, I am the Gray Witch.” One of the most powerful women in Fayroll stretched out her hand. “Allow me to introduce my friends and clanmates. This is Cedric Sekira, battle master and coordinator.”

  A knight in shimmering emerald armor nodded to me.

  “This is Fredegar, he’s responsible for clan security.” A scout with completely gray hair half-bowed.

  “This is Milly Re.” The Gray Witch took me over to a stunningly beautiful girl with two swords strapped to her back. “She’s our instructor.”

  “Nice to meet you, I’m Hagen,” I repeated to them all, one after another, as I met the upper echelon of a clan that looked to soon join Fayroll’s top three. I could now say I knew all the Hounds of Death elders personally.

  “To make sure we’re on the same page, this is the warrior who fought for our clan’s honor with three PKers who were mouthing off about us,” announced the Gray Witch.

  “A-a-ah,” everyone said in unison, clapping me on the shoulder.

  “Of course, we remember you.”

  “I heard about that—respect.”

  “Way to be a man.”

  “Nice work!”

  After having beaten all the dust out of me with their back-slapping, the group quickly forgot the whole thing and went back to discussing the details of the impending attack. I can’t say I was terribly upset, as I don’t particularly enjoy the limelight; you never know what to expect.

  “And now you’re famous,” noted the Gray Witch, who had returned to stand next to me. “But don’t let it go to your head. It’s here today and gone tomorrow.”

  “I never really cared too much about fame anyway. And don’t forget that I wasn’t the only one there. Two dwarves were with me. Are they here?”

  “I remember. They probably aren’t here, since clans only take their top people with them to storm castles.”

  “Not even just for the numbers?”

  “What numbers? Our high-level players could withstand a few fireballs thrown at them as they charge the walls, but the kids would be toast. Who wants to be cannon fodder?”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “I wanted to meet you personally. You surprised me, and I enjoy the chance to clap eyes on the people who can conjure up that emotion for me.”

  “How did I surprise you?”

  “Your audacity, I’d say. No offense, of course, but I didn’t believe for a minute that you’d go out of your way to help our clan out of the goodness of your heart. You just needed to get rid of those three clowns, and you used us to do it for you. But it was the way you did it—cynically, on the one hand, but with grace and prudence on the other. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a look at you. Oh, speaking of looking at you—Milly!”

  “Yes, mistress?” The beauty with the two swords—the one the Gray Witch said was the instructor—walked over.

  “Wouldn’t you agree that our friend is dressed…shall we say…a bit poorly? For his level, of course.”

  “That’s for sure. That isn’t even the decent kind of poverty. You’re lazy, my friend,” Milly said with a touch of arrogance in her voice.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked in embarrassment. “I’m not lazy, and I have money. It’s just that I haven’t been in any of the big cities except Aegan, and there aren’t any auctions in the provinces. Just vendors. All they sell is the same kind of junk, if not worse.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Milly said sincerely. “I guess I forgot what it was like down at the lower levels. So, what did you need, mistress?”

  “Go find Fiosi, the farrier. Maybe he can think of something for our friend before the attack starts.”

  Milly nodded, her light brown hair falling over her sparkling eyes, and ran off.

  Beautiful, I thought.

  “Beautiful indeed,” confirmed the Gray Witch.

  I started at her, perplexed. Did I say that out loud?

  “Calm down, it was written all over your face,” said the Witch with a laugh.

  “It’s like some kind of sentimental novel.” I smiled, too.

  “Is this the first time you’ll be storming a castle?”

  The Gray Witch sat in her chair and motioned for me to sit next to her.

  “Yep. Though I still don’t think I’ll even make it to the walls. I’m too weak.”

  “That could be,” the Witch nodded. “This is all about skill, strength, and luck. Maybe luck most of all.”

  “Wait a second,” I said, “what happens to my things if I die?”

  “Nothing,” answered the Witch. “They’ll collect them along with everyone else’s and mail them to you. Just send your clan leader a message saying what you had. There aren’t any rats here; we’re all in the same boat. And in your case, all you have to do is say your name. You have a ring with your name on it, so they’ll know what’s yours.”

  “And where will I go if I die?”

  “To the spot you last linked to. Most people link to the clan castle.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you kiddies might be used to running around in your underwear, but the veterans…”

  “What about the people over there in the castle? If they just respawn there, this could go on forever.”

  “True, and that’s why the developers added a special condition. All defenders of a castle that is officially under attack are sent to the nearest big city if they die during the battle.”

  “And their things?”

  “Either the castle defense is successful and they’re returned, or to the victor go the spoils.” The Gray Witch shrugged her shoulders. “It’s war. Some people like it.”

  “That makes sense. But what trophies can you get in castles?”

  “Not much,” the mistress replied. “In other games, you’d get the standard magic crystal or the clan emblem. Sometimes, you’d get the castle itself. But here, there’s nothing like that. Just the things you collect from the bodies and whatever’s in the clan storehouse. But there usually isn’t much there, since nobody keeps anything that unusual in their clan storehouses.”

  “Wait, really?” I didn’t believe her at first.

  “What’s the point of having them there? Okay, so what’s most valuable? Sets, rare scrolls, artifacts. How many sets and artifacts are there in the game? Not that many, I’d say. And clans? Oceans of them. So, let’s say there’s one item for each of them. How many would even the largest have in its storehouse? Not more than would fit in a bag. And that bag was probably sent down the river in the hands of their most skilled warrior and surrounded by a few other guards a long time ago. Best case scenario: there are a few legendary things in there, though even those were probably given out to their warriors already.”

  “Then what’s the point of the attack?” I asked, confused. “Just to say you won?”

  “That’s everything!” the Gray Witch said instructively. “It’s goal number one. We can get items ourselves, but twisting the neck of one of the largest clans out there is more than just honorable; it’s hugely beneficial. First of all, we get lots of new recruits. All their veterans—mages, warriors, healers—will be over here looking to talk with me tomorrow. And they’ll ask to join the clan. Then, I can have my pick of them. Plus, everyone will know that the Hounds of Death trounced the Wild
Hearts. And there you go!”

  “Wow,” I said with surprise. “Tough. What happens to the castle?”

  “To the castle? Nothing. I mean, there won’t be a castle left. As soon as we tear the flag down from the tower, the clock will start to tick. Three hours later, the carriage will turn into a pumpkin, and the castle will turn into ruins. If the Hearts want to restore it, they’ll have to start over again. Oh, there’s Fiosi. Hey, there, my friend. Do we have anything we can use to dress up this fine young man?”

  Fiosi, a dwarf in glistening chainmail and a bright blue belt with a hammer stuck into it, looked me over.

  “Mmkay. I didn’t bring anything with us for his level, but I could whip up a breastplate. It won’t be that fancy, but it’ll be head and shoulders above what he’s wearing now.”

  Elina had walked over in the middle of the conversation and blushed at what she heard.

  “Forge it, Fiosi,” said the Gray Witch. “Forge it, my dear. Do you have everything you need?”

  “Yep,” answered the dwarf. “I grabbed whatever I thought might come in handy.”

  He took a few steps away before turning back to me.

  “Come see me in about seven minutes. The smithy is to the left of the pavilion. Okay?”

  “Sounds good,” I said with a nod.

  “Our clan will pay for his work,” said Elina firmly, her face still crimson.

  “Forget it,” the Gray Witch answered just as firmly. “Hagen will be fighting under the flags of my clan, and my job is to make sure he fights well. Armor is included in that. I’m sorry, I must insist. And Hagen, if we don’t see each other before the attack, we’ll talk after. Break a leg!”

  She walked over to the main group.

  “You’re an embarrassment,” hissed Elina. “You disgraced the entire clan!”

  “Well, sorry! I didn’t know, I didn’t want to, and I don’t think I even will!” I hissed back. “Who told me that I was coming to see people like those? I just logged into the game, and Gerv grabbed me just like that. Oh, and what’s with all the snobbery? I wear what I have money to buy.”