Behind me was a player of the ninety-third level. An elf. Green shaggy hair, like the emerald wool of an unknown shaggy beast. The skin scaly gray. In his hands was a very large crossbow. He had some strange boots on, which made him look as though he had thick animal paws resembling those of a tiger. The gaming nickname was bright red and read «Bloody BackStab».
He was alone. Very satisfied looking. Grinning so widely, it was as though I was a giant cake with whipped cream on top.
What the hell?
Before my eyes flashed an inscription that notified me that transportation magic was blocked.
Fuck!
Do you know, what I did not bring with me? A knife! A simple fucking knife!
“Hey!” I yelled, raising my wand and keeping my finger on the “trigger.”
Stone shrapnel flew towards him and hit the stone with a bang. The elf managed to deflect it, and he threw up his hands:
“No worries, easy, buddy. This is just business.’
He waved his hand, tossing aside something small, like a blinking gray crystal the size of a hen's egg.
“What are you talking about?” I shouted, grabbing one of the fighting scrolls.
Five paces from me there was a teleport flash. Six players appeared.
Before my eyes flashed a long red line:
Attention!
The enemy is near! Character: Dort Viderrr!
“Ohhh!” I squeezed out, opening the scroll.
“Hi, Ros,” said Dort Viderrr, stepping forward, looking at me just as gleefully as Bloody Backstab was before - like a delicious cake with whipped cream. “The Rock? You know how to choose a place!”
“Hello,” I nodded in response. “Should we immediately start fighting or will you let me speak?”
“Speak,” said the familiar aggr.
Damn - he had reached the ninety-eighth level. He was not wasting time. I was rather surprised.
But aloud, I said something quite different:
“Hey, fuck off once and for all. That goes for all of you. And, by the way, I am not going to run away. I wanted to, but changed my mind as soon as I saw your ugly face. Put a helmet on or something. After all, real dark Jedi do not show their faces. Get lost - or else, I will be willing to pay a large amount to have each of you hunted and killed no less than five times in a row. I am serious. And I've got enough money to do it.”
“Ros.” Dort, to my surprise, did not boil and sputter, staying quiet. “You will not believe it, but this is really not personal. Well, maybe just for me. And we were also asked for a video report - one showing you die.”
“Who asked?”
“None of your business.”
This was all recorded on video - they were not fools. They were letting me speak out, so do not hurry, do not anyone left to fill up come - they wanted to kill the gaming legend Rosgard, and therefore, tried to create something like a video masterpiece, a fight between cowboys.
Since I only had scrolls with spells, it was wiser to take advantage of the large amounts of money I had, and knowledge. But there was no choice. I yelled one spell after the other:
“Diamond spikes! Rotten swamp! Fiery stream! Hailstones! Thorn Forest! Meteor!” I tried to throw off the net, but the first attempt did not work.
It did not save me from the thrown daggers and the pair of arrows, and the close range explosive potion.
Another hit! Arrows were fired from a very long range. I doubled back, wounded. “Thorn Forest! Diamond spikes!!!” I was hit with lightning, my body shook like I was having a fit.
I threw an aura over myself, a protective dome giving me immunity for a short period of time. On the other side of the aura were the aggrs, shaking in rage - acting quite skillfully but clumsily at the same time. Two players rushed away, leaving the mass action zone, and the rest continue to hit the dome. A shadow flashed to the top of the magical dome. It was Dort Viderrr - face contorted in a grimace, evil eyes blazing. What horror .... like watching a shark through a glass aquarium. The dome was being beaten by two broadswords, and turned a furious red.
Dort was using a magical weapon, yelling something. I quickly swallow some life elixirs and, with my free hand, got rid of the dome.
Most of the aggrs had fled, and one or two were killed for sure. There were many clots of mist on the ground. I would finish off the others as soon as the dome was gone.
Or with the meteor, which was already flying toward the Rock.
Take down the dome - and run!
I took the teleport scroll with trembling hands. I opened several vials and dumped them into my mouth … and then I froze. I found myself lying with my butt on the black spiked bush of "Grim", having accidentally rolled over him during battle. But it does not matter… I do not care if the thorns hurt me. I was definitely poisoned - whether by a knife, an arrow, or the thorn bush. I was dying so quickly .... but still it did not matter!
The bush spoke! I think it was in the Bible, that this happened .... it was only a hoarse, ominous whisper. But it sure was not the whisper of angels. I heard the mad growl of Grim, thanking me for the spectacle of this great battle! And then, echoed a woman’s voice, which was familiar to me as well - Myrtle. She thanked me for the offering! For the refreshing taste of pure, life-giving water .... What the hell? I am talking to myself now?
But I heard every word, and scanned the words appearing before my eyes, nodded, stood up, turned around and rushed forward like a bull, right down to the azure river, hitting the screaming Dort Viderrr in the stomach on the way. With an effort, he rose up and ran after me, attacking.
Hit! A glowing red sword bit into my shoulder.
Hit! The second sword pierces the base of the neck.
Hit! Dort Viderrr moves the handle swords apart like pruning shears.
Crit!
And we rushing down the cliff in a deadly embrace, flying towards the distant waters of Elirna.
“You little…” almost shouts Dort.
BA-AA-AM!
Dort is unable to finish his sentence - we are incinerated by a meteor, its shock wave sending our ashes into the river. The rainbow … the lovely rainbow kindly took me in its arms and carried me towards revival ....
Chapter Nine.
What have the youth come to?
“Nice,” I smiled so broadly that I almost cracked my cheeks.
“Nice,” said a man as naked as I was, standing nearby on the stone revival plate.
“Fucking plankton!” Said girl in a pink bikini.
“And why plankton?” I was surprised, making screenshots of the aggrs who had died with me. Just in case.
“Because you’re green and idiotic!”
“What have the youth come to,” an old woman sitting nearby shook her head. “Get off the plate, will you? Other people are trying to pass.”
Next to the old woman lay such a hefty, shaggy dog, that it could have easily been the hound of the Baskervilles. The dog’s eyes were closed, and he was dozing, but I still did not want to argue, seeing that he had huge fangs. Why tarry at the revival location?
“Rosgard, you …” breathed Dort Viderrr, descending from the stone.
“No offense, guys, but I promised - I will hire a hitman.”
I promised, but the smile did not leave my face, and I looked at Dort even with gratitude. “I will send mercenaries today. Good luck.”
“Fuck you where the light of day never reaches!”
“Yeah, right,” I said, leaving along the narrow streets of the village.
Strangely, no one chased me. Not that an attack on me was impossible— they could have at least hurled some insults at me. But no one said anything— and when I could not stand it and turned around, I found that the agars were going away from the village, like shameful jackals.
I understood why immediately - the players were followed by the village guards.
They were going towards the river, where the equipment was.
I was not going to go there— it was clear as day that they would
be waiting for me.
And I did not care— I was more than happy to pay such a price. The aggr Dort Viderrr definitely deserved the reward. Let him have the military staffs and scrolls— the most expensive thing, anyway, was the meteor.
What did the bushes tell me?
Well .... They expressed their gratitude.
Both Myrtle and Grim. A sort of message from the other world, kind words and wishes. And Grim gave me some guidance.
Thank god!
I am pleased as hell!
Myrtle herself said nothing but kind words.
Grim was much less joyful— his bass voice roared in confusion, bewilderment, and resentment. Thank all the gods the angry werewolf victim was not me.
What they said was not a job offered to me, only a request— but I still jumped at it.
Why?
There was a good reason! First, I needed to get back to the library, a very large one— but preferably not in Algora. Though killing three aggrs gave me some relief, it had alerted the gaming system of my aggression.
I burst into the hotel, flew into my room, and picked up my tattered silk pants and draped velvet jacket. I rummaged through the trash that was scattered everywhere, and with a triumphant
laugh, fished out three crumpled scrolls— one of which was a teleport spell.
Grabbing a handful of gold coins, I got out to the corridor. Already on the third step, I whispered:
“Hradalrome.”
I urgently need a library.
“The Book Corner" of Hradalrome is of a different scale. They have about… well, fuck knows how many books. But in this gigantic cave one could easily host a downtown disco party. If it was empty. That is, there were hundreds of stone shelves rising to a height of four-story building, spaced at a distance of three to four meters apart.
This time, I needed privacy. And privacy always comes at a price ....
Going to the very long stone desk of polished malachite to shine, I turned to an old dwarf with an unthinkably complex arrangement of gray hair.
"Good day.”
“And to you, stranger. What can I do for you?”
“A personal study room and the most complete book on this topic, here,” I said, pulling out a piece of paper. I dipped my pen in the inkwell and clumsily wrote one word.
“Two gold coins per hour for the personal cabinet. One gold coin for the use of the book. Do you need a notebook?”
“Yes, and also some extra alchemical candles.”
A young dwarf wrapped in a red cloak jumped out of nowhere and led the way, sneezing profusely.
The place had a low, thick entryway that hid a small room with only a desk, a chair, an armchair and some candles on the wall.
I did not immediately realize what had happened at the top of the Rock. It was only later that I began to understand the cause and effect.
First, I had poured water on the flowering bush of “Myrtle.” The key was the water. That is, the lost temple priestess of the light god Gravital graciously accepted the water as a sacrifice.
Secondly, I arranged an entire battle at the top of the cliff - to the delight of the former mercenary and werewolf Grim. He, during his lifetime, had loved a good fight— both as a participant and as a spectator. I gave him a front row seat.
I had done it accidentally, inadvertently, and not expecting such a result. I had certainly not predicted such a bonus. I am not Orbit. I am an amateur analyst.
I just randomly poured water on the bush, and then engaged in battle.
And then, bam - the bushes talked.
What Grim said immediately questioned my courage - I had hid myself from the enemy attacks under a protective dome, while the vicious warrior Grim was thirsting see the blows of swords. So I instead engaged in battle with Dort Viderrr directly, dropping off the cliff with him, ad practically committing suicide. That, according to Grim, was considered nothing less than heroic death in battle. He roared after me - I will be glad to see you again, friend!
I sawed off his head and sold it, and he calls me friend .... And if I had dismembered and burned it? Would he call me a brother?!
The bottom line was - I got an address!
Rather, I received only one name— and a pair of reference points.
The most important words came from the mouth of Grim. They were as follows - Angora.
And I distinctly remembered the inscription that surfaced in front of my eyes, which had appeared at the time that I, carrying Kira in my arms, ran from the Graver.
Welcome to the city of Algora!
Algora - a majestic city, which was originally called as the Al Gora, and was
translated long ago from the forgotten language of the Greats.
This ancient city is one of the most important centers of culture and science ….
Roughly meaning the Feast of the Celebration of Life…
I just closed the inscription and forget - I had seen it before, when I was a rookie shooter Krashshot.
And now, here, I remembered.
Algora. Celebration of Life.
Angora. Celebration of ....?
“If you please,” — a thick book with a black cover was dropped in front of me, embossed with "Angora" in rust-colored letters.
I nodded, thanking him, and waited until the library servant left to open the cover.
The following words were on the first page:
A mountainous region that, in translation from the language of the Greats, means Feast of Death.
After reading this over three times, I turned the page and saw the following headline:
ANGORA: City of the Dead.
Collection of legends and myths.
“How wonderful,” I muttered, flipping the pages.
Why was I so fired up with finding out more about this strange place? No, not so much because
Grim or even Myrtle.
At that time, when I was hiding under the dome denial when talking with make-up, he said the following:
"We are there! Angora, the first gate Tantarial, at the foot of the stairs of Exodus, under the arch of the Stone of Heaven! "
These few surprising names I added to the list of things having to do with the silver legend.
Now, at least I had somewhere to start. I was going to read this very book. At least partially. Then I would try to order a copy of it - maybe I will be able to. And after, I’d teleport to one ordinary village, where once I talked with a very malicious and grumpy ghost. Why? Well, because, here in the first lines on the legend of the city of the dead, was written:
"And the sages of death say - as you emit the last breath, and rest in the dark grave, it is time to depart. Where is your other home? In the midst of the valley drowning in flowers, at the foot of the spiral staircase of Exodus, Angora is a great shadow of Algora, but it is as beautiful and as bright ... "
Well then… there sure is a lot to read… a lot to think and wonder about ... to guess about .... But I will just start a little, I will try to brush the dust and cobwebs in your head.
I read a book for about an hour, maybe a little more. I managed to read four legends out of over fifty available in folio. And I ordered a copy - which was, to my happiness, possible. The book, by the way, was something like a collection of urban legends associated with the other world. All iconic places that were mentioned I carefully wrote down on a separate piece of paper.
Tired of reading, I left the library, having made an advance payment for a handwritten copy.
I was promised to receive it tomorrow. How quickly the digital scribes write! Although, I think,
It is said that Valdira’s gnomes have long since invented a printing press which works on the blood of fire elementals. Hradalrome sure has a lot of rumors floating about.
I went on a short walk through the streets Hradalrome, stopping here and there,
making quick purchases. The venture was stupid and naive, but it was a sin is not to try.
I purchased the following items: a gr
eat big bouquet of dark red flowers with black bordered on the edges of the petals, ten wax candles, the book “Summoning Spirits for Dummies,” a rather large box of sweets, two bottles of wine, a loaf of bread, some pickled mushrooms - and just in case, a bag of sunflower seeds. The last items on the list were twenty scrolls of teleportation.
I hid all of my new purchases in my leather bag, I began a wacky show with a name no less crazy— “flash”— invented by me not a second ago.
Algora. Hradalrome. Lagenbrok. Foot of the Tribulation. Lagenbrok. Alfalfa hill. Lagenbrok. Alfalfa hill. Krom. Alfalfa hill. Hradalrome. Foot of sorrow. Lagenbrok. Selenium. Foot of the Tribulation. Lagenbrok. Selenium. And finally .... Mossy Hills.
Phew…
I was dazzled .... I was sure that I had hurried along the onset of Decay. As soon as I arrived, I made a break for it, found the nearest haystack, and buried myself in it.
I was hiding.
Masking +30
I looked at the village - waiting to see whether the flash of a teleport might appear, indicating that I was being followed. Through my maneuver, I hoped to break free of any possible pursuer - at least because he would not have so many teleport scrolls at hand. I whispered very quietly the names of my destinations, and did not move for minutes from the haystack.
Why would I do that? Not for my own sake. I did not want to endanger one very beautiful and very dangerous girl.
As soon as one dangerous and black haired tyrant became interested in my ivory ring, I have had nightmares about it. I do not want to bring trouble to this peaceful village. Do not want to lead intruders here.
After waiting a quarter of an hour without seeing anyone but sleepy residents, I calmed down a bit. Exiting the hay, I ran to a nearby corn field, sincerely hoping not to stumble upon a group of people and weird kids with knives and pitchforks in their hands - I read "Children of the Corn", and always remember it now when I see cornfields ....
But nothing happened. I found a complacent, grunting fat pig living on the principle - Eat all that is in front of you. The domain it lived in was a hill, followed by another mound, and then a ravine. There was a big hill with a church and cemetery. That is where I was heading.
The Way of the Clan 7 Page 18