The Way of the Clan 7

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The Way of the Clan 7 Page 9

by Dem Mikhaylov


  My stiff fingers - prevented fighting.

  Orbit’s legs - try running, now. He would have to crawl.

  The balding Tyrant - in addition to the appearance, he is constantly shaking from cold, and losing life from the poisonous eczema.

  My amber eyes - I am beginning to see worse now. I am constantly squinting, though I am sitting in the shade. But in the dark, I see better. The trick is that, in the dark, the disease increases dramatically, and I begin to lose my life faster. Hah.

  A giggling mammoth… hell knows. I never saw such a disease. But the hiccupping of the Baroness I had seen. The ferret on her shoulder, however, seemed like it had not gotten sick at all.

  Thanks to the sudden respite, I began to sort through the gaming system messages, which I had not touched since morning.

  Attainment!

  You obtained the achievement “Robber” of the first rank!

  You can see the table of achievements obtained in your character settings.

  Your reward for achievement is + 0.1% to your critical strike chance.

  Current Critical Hit rate: 1.3%

  Judging by the short explanation, it was because of Tyrant, who had stolen the peacock. Oh well! I looked at my “fluffy” pet, but with a sigh, decided not to scold him. He already got into a mess because of me.

  Attention!

  In connection with the destruction, damage and plunder of someone else’s property, the guards of Algora have issued a warrant for your arrest!

  If resistance is given, force will be applied!

  Posters with your name and description will be posted on message boards, and sent to guilds and clans.

  Beware! Justice breathes down the back of your neck!

  Remember: personal appearance critically affects the severity of punishment!

  The period before the amnesty of this crime: a week.

  Before the amnesty, there are: days- 6, hours…

  Attainment!

  You have obtained the achievement “Outlaw” of the first rank!

  you can see the table of achievements obtained in your character settings.

  Your reward for achievement is + 0.1% to your critical strike chance.

  Current Critical Hit rate: 1.4%

  “I have become a criminal,” I sighed sadly.

  “Is that cool?” My daughter said.

  “Bad!” I said quickly. “Very bad! Laws must be honored!” Hm...was it worth limiting the future goddess to the laws of men? “But it is not completely…”

  “Hrr-r-r,” coughed the monster Whisper.

  “When you are healed, in the secret place, will you go on with us?” I asked the spy, changing the subject, and received an enthusiastic nod.

  Excellent.

  “Orbit?”

  The seal was bubbling, flapping his flippers. He splashed and gave me a fish clamped in his teeth, eyes bulging with fear. A generous gift, which I threw to Tyrant - and my bald pet chewed it happily, made a circle, and plunged into the lake, splashing. The wolf floated in the water. That is how we poisoned the pond… damn it… but the wolf felt better, flopped down into the shallows and sat there. Kolyvan giggled a little, approving his behavior, and thrust his merry trunk into the lake. It seemed to me that he was going fishing.

  Roska was going with me one way or another. The Baroness left, and I doubted she would appear in our company in the near future.

  I must collect a team - time tested and true. But first we must all go through treatment, so as not to infect anyone. Most of all I was happy that we did not teleport into a crowded place - for example, into the center of Algora - with our brutal bunch of diseases. That would have been the start of an epidemic…

  Oh… damn it… only now, I was beginning to realize that these “all in one” diseases were not just a surprise.

  What would happen, for example, if such a package of ailments begins now at the city of Plosefont? What will happen? I will tell you - a mass extinction of all of those fools at once. They are weak, and do not have elixirs or healing magic on them. They come there to dance. But when everything turns blue around them, when they turn pale, grow hair, grow fangs and die… then the ones who are not dead yet break out in separate directions, infecting everyone else. The guards would react quickly, but it would not be enough. Even tough players would succumb - the Baroness is an example. She got sick. So did Whisper. And each of them is extremely strong. And we get… an apocalypse? Mass death of townspeople. Empty houses.

  Turning to the monster Whisper, I told him my thoughts and was rewarded by a look of utter shock. Then he tried to speak, but all that came out was garbled nonsense. I managed to add up the following facts:

  “Did you just understand? The Templars are ruined - no one knew about this shit! This is their main secret. And they stupidly revealed it. The one who did it will get a golden medal from us and from his clanmates- a terrible death, permanent, eternal. Already the whole of Valdira is in shock. It is some kind of steroid ball of diseases. And the illnesses become stronger three times faster and we are treated ten times slower! The Baroness gave the order and our clan bought the contents of almost forty main pharmacies at once.”

  The Orbit seal looked at me with quiet sorrow. Kolyvan stroked his trunk on my head. Tyrant pressed his ears to his head and sighed heavily. And I wanted to get up and kick something. I am not Orbit - not an analyst! I am a damn… I am… a father! And I have got no time to think about mysterious epidemics!

  The monster continued to mumble:

  “We too have a genius who teleported back to the citadel! We blocked the infection in the basement teleport zone, and our miserable people are sitting there… kicking the guy for nothing, and simultaneously plucking off his lilac feathers and peeling off his mud warts. Fuck this shit! Oh! And I forgot to say! Just now five battle clans attacked the citadel of the Templars. All are terribly interested in where they got the well of infectious diseases from. And all want to take a couple of vials from wherever that wellspring is.”

  “Do you remember how you caught it?”

  “Nah,” cheerfully mumbled Whisper, and the mammoth thinly chuckled. “But I had a log video on, and our analysts are working on it, trying to figure out what swine came at me with a needle…”

  “Or an infectious enema,” I agreed.

  “No-no!” Said Whisper, moving the fur out of his eyes. “In any case, I somehow got away. The main thing is, I did not die!”

  “But you infected a bunch of people!”

  “The main thing is that I did not die! I was pummeled by a bunch of people, and I managed to survive, and pass on a dowry! That’s cool!”

  “But you infected all of us!”

  “The main thing is that I did not die. And I did not infect them, but a plague doctor of the Templars. Soon they will dismantle the castle brick by brick, each Templar will be beaten and interrogated. And they will also question the resurrected carcass.”

  “History repeats itself,” I chucked. “Only there, everything was on the order of the greedy king and the Roman Pope. And here… a crowd of greedy clans and the Sleepless Mom… or Madame Plague?”

  “He-e-ey,” said Whisper, suddenly serious. “Do not you dare insult my beloved clan leader! The Baroness is not a Madame!”

  “Fine, I understand,” I nodded with a sigh. “You are afraid they will hear us and that you’ll be punished. What a cautious fellow… sneaky.”

  “From the very first day!” Proudly proclaimed Whisper. “Even in Cradle I was noted as a spy, a thief of noble blood!”

  “And then you came and poisoned everyone’s existence,” said a blond girl, dropping out of a teleport flash. She was wearing a light green dress with lots of green ribbons.

  “Are you the doctor?” I asked joyfully, immediately seeing the clan symbol of the Sleepless, an emerald snake on a small wooden rod.

  “I am,” confirmed the girl with the absolutely incomprehensible, but certainly meaningful nick Placebo-Nozebo, hundred and ninety
third level. “Take off your pants and get ready!”

  “Huh?”

  “Kidding. So… my coworker will tackle the dog, he will come a little later. And you all… start drinking.”

  Everyone except Roska and the animals were given a bottle - but not of medicine, of wine. Red wine. Inside, some stamens, some blades of grass…

  “Drink,” ordered the doctor. “It has herbs, and in each, three drops of honey from the divine bees. The entire bottle at once.”

  “And me?” Roska was indignant. “I also killed and plundered! Where is my share?”

  “Hey!” I barked.

  “And for you, cranberry juice. Drink, baby,” said the woman. “Orbit, will you be able to hold it with your flippers? Or should I help?”

  The elf did not answer. He was already trying to put a tongue into the bottle, which was not working. Oh well. Uncorking my bottle, I glanced with suspicion at the plain white label marked “for internal use.” Then I began to drink.

  Before my eyes ran the lines of warning about the effects of the “charged” wine on my sick body. My eyesight was immediately brightened, as if a dusty screen had been pulled away. I could have read the incoming info, but decided to leave everything to the doctor. She requested:

  “Access to your status, please!”

  A request from Placebo-Nozebo flashed before my eyes and I answered in the affirmative, knowing I could not refuse. The study of data took less than thirty seconds. She was a pro! She handed me a couple of vials and ordered me to drink. I did not argue. The girl was already switching to Orbit, attentively peering at the flickering air above his head.

  Looking at the tricolor aura of the healer, I finally figured out her specialization. They treat combat wounds much less effectively than conventional healers, but do well with diseases like this. In a game where PVP rules, those who are able to pull your health from red to green directly on the battlefield are more popular, because they are needed first.

  But judging by her clothes, and the richness of the elixirs, Miss Placebo felt no lack of anything. Clearly, the Sleepless coveted such a highly specialized doctor. Epidemics do not happen very often - but when they do, lord help you if you do not have a doctor like her.

  The effects of the elixirs did not manifest immediately, but quickly enough that I began to regain control of various parts of my body. Whisper was rapidly molting, and his fangs began to shrink. Orbit continued to grow and splash, but, as I suspected, he did so only because he felt like it. But his eyes had something dark in them - ever since, I think, I shook him out of his stupor.

  What did the Baroness say? Death here for him is death for real?

  Leaning towards the bald seal, I said some words that were unusual for me:

  “In this world, death takes its toll in experience points, remember? This is enough for her. This is the death of the old soul. Destruction once and for all. So, friend, no matter who talks about death and rebirth - this is all complete nonsense! I do not know about the real world - but in Valdira, this trick does not work. There are no cycles here. From the starting point - to infinity! Give a kick to whoever has loaded your brain with such nonsense. If you got all these thoughts by yourself – give yourself a kick! If someone else brainwashed you – kick him and massage his temples dirty heels to no longer clog up your bald head. There will be no cycle through erasure of this character! And death in this world is only an excuse to rise up, find the monster who killed you, and tear his heart out - if there is one! And remember, I am right. Do you know why I am right, and you’re mistaken?”

  For some time, the elf was silent, looking at me in amazement, and after three minutes he asked:

  “Why?”

  “Because I am simple,” I explained. “No simpler person exists. And you are just damn complex, like onion or Shrek. I see everything clearly - if I am not ill. And you complicate everything! And either you invented the bullshit about the cycle, or someone brainwashed you. Was it your sister? Give her a good kick for me then! It is simple in the world of Valdira. Someone killed you? Get up! Find him and kill him! We know who did it. All we have to do is grow up, and then visit his home, knock softly at the door, and kill him loudly. That is all! By the way, he killed me - we can take revenge together!”

  The silence lasted for another four minutes… then the seal shook, scratched his ear and grunted:

  “Not the sister… One s-second…”

  His eyes slowly closed - Orbit left the virtual world, and his body softened in the lake water.

  I froze in anticipation, surprised at his reaction. But I did not have to wait long. The elf came to life with a jerk and smiled:

  “I gave a kick in the ass!”

  “Good, good!” I assured him, never minding to ask to whom exactly he gave a kick. Not his sister… then who? It does not matter. The fact is that my friend is recovered. And that’s good.

  “The next dose of liquid happiness,” the doctor notified us. “And then a couple of injections and you are free! Only the laughing mammoth and the balding wolf are asked to stay.”

  “I am not leaving without Tyrant!” Roska announced, going to Orbit, who was beckoning her. The elf whispered something, and my daughter straightened up and stared at me with joy:

  “Dad, is it true that you have to give me pocket money every day? Is it?”

  “True, yes,” I nodded, picking up a stone and taking a step towards the lake. “True, darling.”

  The seal tried to hide in the depths, so the first stone missed - and then Roska, protesting, yelled at me.

  “Have to hurry up and get to Krom,” I said, tearing my daughter off and simultaneously opening the message window. “Where are our fighters? And where are my servants?”

  Chapter Five.

  Team collected according to plan. Doc the berserk. Trouble with a sword.

  I had a lot of work to do. And not only just for myself - I was forced to take direct leadership - one of my most hated occupations. The main thing that caused me to have the revelation was our very own Doc - since the beginning of the trip to the catacombs, Doc had died seven times. Lost two levels. His pet snake died three times. He tore up his equipment, burned it, dipped it in something caustic - in general, it was falling apart. Only a few pieces of armor were in working quality, but it still needed major repairs. He also broke some glasses with round crystal lenses.

  But it is okay to ruin clothes. That is nonsense. The important part was that Doc was shaking, feverish. But though he did not intend to sit at home, for me, this meant that I did not have a healer in the group any longer. The constant deaths were no fault of mine, but I was still ashamed. I would have to get him a gift… something of the “erotic” genre. Who knew it could get so bad?

  I wrote to Brave instead, intending to receive some bottles and rumors from him. Brave was ready to provide both. In less than five minutes, a flash of teleportation flashed near me. There was the crackling of dry branches and then the alchemist appeared beside me, “decorated” with a little animal sitting on his right shoulder - a smallish lizard of a dark blue and white coloring The lizard did not look like too serious of an enemy, and moved at about the speed of a pregnant chameleon - slo-o-owly rearranging his paws. Seeing my surprised look, Brave stopped about ten paces from us, sat down on a rock, and explained:

  “Not for battle. Four times a day, he gives two grams of a special acid - expensive and necessary. Bought him for three hundred gold coins, made him a pet - if he is not tamed, then he lives in a cage, is capricious, and eats almost nothing. Produces the acid only once a day and this is not a guarantee. But this is not why you called me, is it?”

  “No,” I confessed. “I would like to have a survival kit for ted gold.”

  “The same set?”

  “Yeah. Five sets.”

  “There’s some in stock,” Brave rubbed his hands together and opened a huge bag. “We will collect the bottles…”

  The alchemist wanted to say something else, his face bri
ghtened for a moment - but then he looked at the two “others” next to me - Whisper and Placebo - and slammed his mouth shut, deciding to say nothing.

  Bravo!

  Really - well done!

  Few players have such a good understanding of caution. In the world of Valdira, secrets remain secrets far less long than in the real world.

  “I beg your pardon,” the girl slowly approached the alchemist. “Did I hear correctly? An alchemist selling his own goods?”

  “That’s right ma’am,” said Brave cheerfully.

  “Only to your people? Or can I take a look at your assortment?”

  “Of course you can! Please!”

  After some gestures, Brave gave the doctor access to the information containing the complete data of goods in the bag. She was quiet for some minutes, and then I heard her calm voice:

  “I will take everything from number five to seventeen. And then from the twenty third to the thirty ninth. Will you tell me the price?”

  “Oh yes! For sure!”

  The purchase took about three seconds, and then Brave began to lay out the sets prepared for us on the ground. His stock was increasing every time!

  Brave did not come closer because of my request to remain at a distance. The diseases were still in our bodies. They did not torment me anymore, nor did they disfigure my appearance, but we were possibly still contagious. A complete cure is not so easy. I did not want to infect Brave. The doctor, Placebo-Nocebo, through her narrow specialization, received special immunity. She would never be infected by a player or “local.” She could bathe in the bacteria, and it would have no effect. And if she were to wear a “plague doctor” mask, then, for a certain period of time, people within a diameter of three meters would be immune as well.

  I did not want to talk to Brave aloud, but nothing prevented me from writing.

  The first message came from the alchemist, full of exclamation marks and shocked smileys. Brave was dying to share his knowledge.

  “Madness! Complete madness by the temple!!!! Doc is no longer a healer, but a barbarian! Running around in shorts with a club!!! I saw it myself!”

 

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