The main distinction of attributes from abilities and artifact properties was that other players could influence them. For example, if a player received “luck”, its effect could be easily counteracted by putting the right type of curse on the player. Or, contrariwise, it was possible to hex someone’s fate by putting some kind of curse on him: of failure, misfortune, intoxication, schizophrenia, muteness, deafness or some physical disability; besides, some of those curses could become permanent – it depended on the extent to which the character had stepped on the curser’s toes. That’s why in the main world protective amulets were popular. So were witches‒ no surprise there. Only women were able to apply curses, The male half of players did not have that ability. I would need to ask Gromana – why does the Game have such gender discrimination, and whether there are any classes that are only available to men?
“Let’s go?” one of the guards said in a deep low voice as soon as I stepped away from the attributes teacher. The image of a big fellow was ideal: over six feet tall, rolled-up sleeves of a white shirt showing powerful hairy arms, wide baggy trousers, a simple rope for a belt, strange dark boots of an unknown material, and a huge club, practically as tall as I was. Some village fighter, folksy and rather dim. Given that the Game provided me two fighters who looked like clones of each other, the test in store for me would be impressive. The task was to find and kill the Boar. With a capital B.
“Not yet,” I refused, and approached the second teacher in the Labyrinth. Finally the time had come to figure out the bit about professions.
Learning progress: You have reached teacher 8 of 10
“I am so glad to greet you here, young schlemazel!” a teacher who looked like a gnome said with gladness. Dressed in a funny loose robe and skull cap, the teacher greeted me with a broad open smile, completely different from the grimace of grumpiness and disdain that he had demonstrated to me literally just a few minutes before I handed the potatoes to the elder. “What is there that you came to tell me?”
“I am interested in professions.” I was unable to hold back a smile. The gnome seemed all too similar to a remote descendant of David or Solomon
“Oy vey, really, what is this you’re saying?! You know you came to the right place, and you are oh so lucky! Professions are my middle name! You can walk around the entire Derman and any putz will tell you there’s no one better than Shlomo to put the basics of professions into your head. And get a tiny little gesheft for himself.”
“Are you actually allowed to disclose your name?” I asked in surprise once the space around us had changed. Instead of the familiar training forest we were in an open workshop equipped with state of the art technology. It had all sorts of things! Starting from the standard retorts and vials to a huge futuristic computer and strange scientific instruments whose purpose I couldn’t even guess.
“Oy gevalt, who said anything to anyone?! The teacher looked sincerely surprised. “Who is Derman? I know nothing! Don’t try to confuse me, young man. Did you come here to learn or play with words?”
“Not just to learn.” I put out a feeler. The gnome had quite openly indicated that besides the standard training he could provide something extra. “I have a couple of granises; it would be nice to put them to work. I need advice from an experienced mentor.”
“Now we’re talking!” The gnome even rubbed his hands in anticipation “Let’s start with the unpleasant part: free training. What can I tell you: there are professions and it’s possible to develop them. Well, that’s basically it. Now, I would like to make you an offer…”
“Hey!” I exclaimed in amazement. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?! What kind of training is that?!”
“Feh, what bupkes did you want for free? So that uncle Shlomo would leave all his things and show you how to do creation correctly? Oy vey, that’s not what they hired me for! They said right out: ‘Shlomo, teach those putzes professions.’ Teach you I did. Everything else is a special gesheft!”
“No, that’s not going to work!” I cut him off sharply.”If you want a special gesheft: no problem, I’d be happy to arrange for that. But only after I figure out the professions. No knowledge about the professions – no gesheft!”
“Oh, my mama told me: Shlomo, don’t you go to the recruits!” The gnome pursed his lips in displeasure. “It’s just losing time! And let me tell you: no one gives his time for free! A bissel here, a bissel there, and look, uncle Shlomo becomes an old and sick player. My grandchildren come to visit and ask: uncle Shlomo, give me a granis to buy candy, what is it I am supposed to tell them? Sorry, katze, I cannot? Recruits in the Academy are too greedy, so you have to suffer and starve? Do you not like children at all? Is there anything more important than family?”
“Leave that alone, uncle Shlomo!” I said in a really icy voice. The gnome should not have dragged family into that. Even though I had been a player for over three years, as far as I could tell, the wound of losing my relatives when they were wiping out the memory of me was still sore. “Either you perform proper training, or I’ll start a case against you for professional incompetence! I will not accept being bilked out of my money in the Academy!”
“Oy vey, what is it that you are saying?” The gnome waved his hands. “What incompetence? What money? I never had in mind to offer you any recipes that are very rare in the main world. Feh! Only the standard, only the rules! In the Academy you could indeed learn one profession, or, sometimes it’s called specialization. The rest you will have in the main world: well, we know‒ the more the professions, the less the profit?”
“What professions would be most suitable for an explorer?" I asked point blank in the same cool tone.
"Oy, that would depend on what it is that you were trying to sell.” The teacher couldn’t care less about my intimidation; he played his role to the end. “Information? Craftsmanship? Or maybe you are going to compete with poor old uncle Shlomo and work in the creative field? I wouldn’t advise that: I got it all covered for quite some time.”
“Information.”
“Oy vey, I knew, I knew that!” The gnome exclaimed joyfully. “Listen to me, young mensch! First thing you need to understand is uncle Shlomo will not give bad advice. He would still like gesheft, even though you rolled your eyes so scary. Think of where you will store your knowledge! On paper? So that every goy klutz, without paying a decent price, could read what you have gathered around the world? Feh! I do want to make it so that you make money. Without decent encryption, unique materials and your own media there will be no place for you in the information market. That’s one. Number two, is: for a purely symbolic fee of one granis I can make for you not only everything without which your life would be worthless, I could also make you a personal logo as a bonus! ‘Dark Paladin, Judge and Explorer!’ I can already see people lining up have the privilege of having you share your wisdom with them. All you need is to just pay me a granis and have your pleasure. Uncle Shlomo will do the best for you!”
“What profession are you talking about?” My aloofness was gradually replaced with curiosity. The gnome was right: if I were to become an explorer, it would be crazy to transfer information without protection. Then what would be the gesheft in all that…? Damn! It seemed to be rubbing off.
“Draftsman,” the gnome replied at once. “Really, you’ll be able to both copy texts for someone and encrypt them, to prevent various putzes from getting information for free. Uncle Shlomo would not advise you a bad thing!”
A table with information on levels of professional development appeared before me. The essence of drafting was simple: converting into documents everything that could be drawn, written or pronounced. Incantations, information, agreements with NPCs, which the Game totally refused to prepare on its own — draftsmen had enough work. In addition, drawing various monograms, symbols and signs was also classified as work under this specialty, so I was quite happy with it, particularly considering that there was no limit on the number of professions. That was not bad for a sta
rt.
“I accept! Let’s learn drafting!”
“So that’s it, folks.” The gnome smiled and a message on receiving a new profession appeared in front of me. “Now, young mensch, you must decide: is there any point in talking more, or no? All the everything I was supposed to give you, I did. My conscience is clean. But my soul is in pain, because it knows you cannot use draftsmanship in the Academy. I say to myself: Shlomo, you did the right thing, all correct and in line with your job. But you can’t deceive yourself…”
“Oy vey, so what is it that you have to offer me?” Not expecting it, I started talking like the gnome. For a few seconds his eyes became round in surprise, and then with obvious joy he started jabbering away:
“Oy vey! I knew it! Poor uncle Shlomo looks and cannot believe his eyes — you look like a human, but you are a true gnome at heart! Such a unique mensch should not use the standard kit that are issued to every recruit. They are just schlock! A true gnome, even though he might look like a human, must use the advanced drafting kit! Only that, everything else is for schlemazels! But you are not a schlemazel! Or is there something I don’t know? Uncle Shlomo does have just one kit just like that. Got it for myself, wanted to study... But I see: here’s a draftsman, way better than me. Just a bissel of three granises and the name of the best draftsman in the Academy will be yours already today!”
“How much?! Are you crazy?!”
“Oy gevalt, why so indignant?” the gnome asked, sincerely bewildered.”You do want to become the best in the Academy, don’t you? Uncle Shlomo is ready to arrange everything. So, what’s the problem? We have no gesheft?”
“No-o-o, sir, that’s not how you do gesheft. One granis for everything, plus you give me all the recipes that are available to draftsmen. Or, as far as I understand, a set of fonts for all the various occasions. Either that, or just give me the standard kit, and I will study it.”
“Oy vey, you have no idea what you are asking!” The gnome kept insisting. “thekit may be worth a granis, I don’t argue. But you will have taken unique monograms! No one else has them ever and any putz will see that he’s looking at a true draftsman, and not yet another schmendrik player! You are serious player‒ or am I wrong?”
“Uncle Shlomo, no schmaltz for me, you are making me laugh.” The gnome’s style was making inroads in my speech again. “Either one granis for everything, or I am waiting for my standard kit. That’s all I have to offer.”
“Oy gevalt, you are killing me without a knife!” The gnome even twisted his hands in a futile attempt to arouse pity in me. “Fine! For just a bissel of two granises I…”
“One! Plus monograms!”
“Vas?!” It was the gnome’s turn to be indignant. “Just one granis for everything?!”
“Goodbye.” Arguing with the stubborn gnome was useless. “Thank you for spending this time with me. Return me to the Academy.”
“Oy, who talks so abruptly without discussion?” The gnome’s indignation suddenly faded. A granis – oy, fine, a granis. Why hurry? Uncle Shlomo always says: first schtup your client, then let him go. Oy, first train, then…”
“If we have agreed, I need information.” I delivered the final blow. “For that same granis. I need to know how I can outdo a player whose level of training and preparedness is higher than mine, and I know it. You are so experienced! So go ahead, surprise me!”
“It’s time to finish with the training,” the gnome drawled sadly settling down on a stool that appeared from nowhere.”There’s not going to be no gesheft here…”
I was returning to the Academy with a complete certainty: the druid will be punished.
“Let’s go?” the guard rumbled once again. He felt impatient to return to contented idleness, so the thug did not even take a test like the Boar seriously. Just a common overgrown feral pig: what’s the big deal? He had encountered countless plenty of those!
“Wait,” I told him curtly, and ran off to the local trader at full speed. First of all I needed to deplete the trader’s stores to quite a significant extent. For an entire year outside of time I had worked on my professional development for “Draftsman” by carefully drawing hooks and wiggles and demonstrating the results to the gnome who pursed his lips in displeasure. He always disliked something: either the strokes were not the same as the original, then the degree of pressure was wrong, then I went overboard with the colors, then Mercury is retrograde and it has negative effects on emotional disturbances… The mentor picked on just everything! If it hadn’t been for the Book of Knowledge, which helped to project an outline of the text I was supposed to write onto the paper, I would have never advanced my professional l level even to “Apprentice”. The situation with professions within the Game was amusing: there were a total of 15 levels of development, from “Novice” to “Master”. The transition between the levels was achieved by successfully creating a certain number of objects. Thus, to level up from “Novice” to “Apprentice Trainee Assistant” one had to successfully create 10 initial level items. To level up from “Apprentice Trainee Assistant” to “Junior Apprentice Trainee” it took already 20. Or 10 items of the level-up. And so on. The algorithm to calculate the number of minimum level items needed to pass from one level to the next was not available, but in order to receive the status of “Master” you had to create over thirteen trillion of them. My mind refused to digest that number, so I feared to imagine players who reached that level. They must be immortal monsters, no less! At each level of the profession the result of the work acquired additional properties; at the “Apprentice” level the scrolls could have up to 5 properties associated both them and their use. For example: paper became more sturdy, fire resistant, it became possible to encrypt the text, incantations written on paper were enhanced… there were many other features as well.
It was specifically the possibility to move the enhanced ability onto a scroll and activating it remotely that served as the basis of my plan to neutralize Dolgunata. I pushed awake the trader who was dozing, having abandoned any hope of selling anything in the Labyrinth, replenished my drafting kit with fresh paper and ink (they did not automatically renew); then I took out the shopping list prepared by Uncle Shlomo, and handed it to the trader.
“I need everything that’s listed here.”
“Everything?!” the shop owned exclaimed, stunned, as he was reading the requirements. “How am I going to get you a mental detonator in the Academy?!”
A granis and a half for everything!” I cut him off; I had finally started to figure out the pricing arrangements in the Game. A granis was really a lot. Like, really, a ton. That’s why the NPCs paid each other and players using virtual money‒ so called granis “fractions”. No one was bothered by definitions such as “two hundredths” or “three fifths” of a granis; the Game allowed the use of small amounts. The record of cash available to a player would be something like: 8.588 granis. This is precisely what I had after training for a year with the greedy gnome. In my view it was worth it.
“Right! I know I have one stashed away somewhere!” The trader looked like a different person now. “Tell me, you want the stakes with knobs? It’s just we have a promotion for ordinary ones and… Never mind, I get it, I’ll be quiet. Here… Oh, and we have a slight problem with self-installing stakes. I only have a hundred available, and you need two hundred… Maybe you’d consider the option without knobs? We are having a promotion right now, by the way…”
“You haven’t left yet?” Vikat was surprised, as he hadn’t expected to see me again. Immediately after visiting the trader I went on to the elder; it turned out the latter had not expected to see me ever again.
“I need workers. Lots of them. One granis for fifty NPCs. And I need them right now.”
“NPCs can’t leave the Labyrinth!” the elder reminded me just in case, but an obvious interest flashed in his eyes.
“No need. They wouldn’t even have to leave the village. I just need a big hole dug in the next six hours.”
&
nbsp; “What for?” Vikat was taken aback.
“What difference does it make to you? Consider it my whim for which I am willing to pay. Fifty workers, six hours of work, and the granis is yours.”
“Two!”
“One granis and one Energy elixir.” I retreated to the position I had thought out in advance. “Don’t forget, it’s not you who is going to work but creatures who belong to you specifically within the Academy.”
“Fine, where do you want to dig it?”
“Come with me, I’ll show you and also clarify my idea.”
Vikat laughed for a long time once he figured out the point of my plan. Calling me a pervert, he allocated, for the same price, not just fifty, but a hundred workers that were either created by the Game or instantaneously relocated from somewhere else. I was particularly glad of several manually operated digging machines; their use accelerated the digging by an order of magnitude.
“I’ll give you an idea for free.” After we’d been laboring away for five hours, Vikat came over to assess the results. “Make a removable cover. We’ll sell you the wood at cost, I like your idea. By the way, Gromana is surprised you are still here. She says Dolgunata will be free in several hours and then you’ll be in deep trouble.”
“So we must make it,” I grinned, giving new directions to the workers. The earthwork was nearing completion, and now we were moving to the new phase – installing the stakes. “Thanks for the idea with the cover, but I’ll have to pass on that. Dolgunata received a bonus from the Chancellor, and now can make anyone do whatever she needs. Gromana was able to counteract that somehow, but I don’t have any amulets, nor do I have immunity. I don’t want to give her a chance to get out.”
The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 36