Changing World- The Beginning

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Changing World- The Beginning Page 23

by Sergei Katz


  As soon as the hostess was convinced that the new visitors didn’t pose a threat, she blossomed into a smile:

  — Come in, you can sit at any table and do not hesitate to move the chairs around, if need be.

  Leaving Alex to deal with the table, I went to the bar:

  — Mistress, do you have a spare room?

  — Of course I do, — she replied. — Hunting season is over, so the tavern is only full on the weekends, and sometimes in the evenings, if it's a holiday or a party.

  — How much is the room? — It was time to start asking prices for goods and services in this world.

  — It will be thirty silver coins per night and this includes dinner and breakfast for your entire company. Slightly expensive perhaps, but I get the impression that both of your pets are pretty voracious eaters, — she answered.

  — Both pets? — I asked.

  I looked around: the boy was working at the head the table, and my Copper Wing had settled himself on the back of one of the chairs.

  — Alex is not a pet, he is my fellow traveler, — I explained.

  — I'm not talking about him, — the landlady grinned. — Did you really think I didn’t notice that one of your swords is sniffing my food?

  — Little Morph, — I turned towards my pet. — You’ve been exposed, so you might as well go back to your normal shape. — A few moments later, my Phasm was sitting on my shoulder in his favorite form.

  — How on earth did you manage to take a Phasm as a pet? — the hostess decided to ask.

  — You wouldn’t believe it, — I sighed. — This cunning little rascal arranged everything himself and left me no choice in the matter.

  — Is that true? — The landlady looked at the animal with great respect. — Then maybe it's not as useless as I thought. By the way, people call me Martha.

  — I'm Alder, and the boy at the table is called Alex. You've already seen Little Morph, and you can call the winged misunderstanding Copper Wing. Regarding Morphy, he has turned out to be a very useful pet. I have never seen a better lure for monsters. — I stroked the animal, who was delighted with the praise.

  — That’s true! — Martha laughed. — His weakness is his strength. Of course he will make a fantastic scout, even if he didn’t manage to fool me. He disguises himself magnificently, even though he is still small and inexperienced. Okay, let's get back to business, — Martha's tone changed. — Will you be taking the room?

  From the tone of her voice, even if we had already reached a level of mutual respect, I already knew that it was a waste of time to try and bargain.

  — I'll take it, and we'll stay a couple of nights. We need a break. — I counted out sixty silver coins. — Martha, would it be alright if I went for a walk in your vegetable garden? You have a lot of interesting stuff growing there.

  — Are you a herbalist of some sorts?

  — Yes, — I smiled. — I’m also an agronomist and a cook. Although those abilities are still at the beginner level.

  — Oh, quite like mine, — the innkeeper grinned. — Only in my case everything is the other way around: my cooking and agronomist skills are more developed than my herbalist skill. Come on...

  Martha offers you the “Knowledge Sharing” quest. For each new plant or fruit found in the Tavern’s garden, you must provide a fruit or plant that she has not seen before from your collection.

  — I’m not objecting, — I began cautiously. — Only how will I know what you know and what you don’t know?

  — Oh, well, that’s easy, — Martha smiled. — The world will help you, so let’s agree, shall we?

  — What if I haven’t discovered enough plants that are unknown to you? — I asked her.

  — Then you'll come back later with some new ones, — the woman said. — Let's say in a month’s time.

  My inventory was packed with different herbs and fruits, and if anything, I could always look for more.

  Seeing what I was thinking, the hostess decided to make the offer even more attractive:

  — If you agree, I'll let you practice agronomy in my garden and teach you a couple of new recipes.

  — Wow, — I pricked up my ears. — Why such generosity?

  — It's simple, — Martha sighed. — I’m stuck here, but I need to develop my skills in herbalism. I have a plan, but I need to be a master herbalist for that. New visitors here are rare and new herbalists even much more so.

  — All right, you’ve convinced me, — I confirmed my agreement.

  — Excellent, — the hostess rejoiced, — and from now on everything is on the house.

  Gradually, the Tavern filled up, mostly with people. However, some representatives of the Elf community showed up as well. On this occasion, they weren’t bearded but were just what I would have expected. If I met Lythiel at this moment instead, I would immediately see the difference. The elves looked like adult children. They had longer and sharper ears, and more elongated faces. In addition, their movements could be described as somewhat pretentious. Even in a normal conversation, they seemed to always take a one-second pause in the middle of each sentence to wave a hand around. They all looked arrogant and full of themselves. On the contrary, Lythiel’s movements were very elegant and modest.

  While I was looking around, I missed the moment when the Phasm decided to take a sip from my beer. Little Morph had lengthened his nose for convenience, turning it into a straw. He sucked in the contents of the mug with great speed, as if his life depended on it.

  — You BLEEP! ... You’re really pushing your luck, aren’t you? — I lifted the intoxicated creature by the scruff of the neck and shook it.

  It was a waste of time - he was already too drunk to be taught how to behave. His nose returned to its usual shape and he started snoring. It was no surprise! He had managed to consume almost half of my one-liter ale mug. What could be said in his defense was that the beer was really tasty. I carefully returned the creature to the table. My Copper Wing, assessing the situation, took over his rival’s food bowl and began the systematic destruction of its contents, and he did so at a speed that you would have thought it was the last meal he would ever get.

  Watching all this, Alex coughed with laughter.

  — What, did that go down the wrong way? — I asked sarcastically.

  The boy nodded, barely restraining his cough. I was about to ask for water, but the blonde-haired young waiter was already putting a glass of water in front of Alex. No one even paid attention to the minor incident at our table. Suddenly, there was a deafening knock on the entrance door. Everybody in the room held their breath, and all their eyes turned to the door in anticipation.

  It felt strange, but I had the impression that everyone had been waiting for this moment. The mood wasn’t downcast, if anything it was completely the opposite. Everybody was in a cheerful mood and expecting entertainment. Alex and I exchanged glances and began to follow what the little waiter was doing next. He dragged a small high table, that looked more like a bar stool, into the center of the hall, and he placed a huge mug on it. Then he went to open the door. Martha brought out a huge bottle, containing a scarlet red steaming drink, and under the gaze of the surrounding people, she filled the mug to the brim. Afterwards, she took a step to the side, as if clearing the way.

  The young waiter solemnly opened the door, and a black cloud of energy burst through the opening. A second later it reached the steaming drink. What I saw was a huge grey-feathered raven, and this bird drank this strange drink down, the way a man would drink water after returning from the desert. Exactly five minutes later the mug was empty. The audience heard that the bird was disappointed:

  — Car-rr! — It squealed.

  Then the drunken bird tried to leave the Tavern. That was the moment when everybody started placing their bets. The customers were betting on how long it would take the bird to find the door, how many dishes it would break, how many times it would knock something over, and so on.

  — These locals have q
uite an original sense of what entertainment is, — Alex’s face showed his surprise.

  All this excitement awakened my Phasm. My drunken pet saw a drunken bird wandering around the hall and decided that this was playtime. My attempt to grab the rascal by the collar failed. The Phasm simply assumed an almost liquid form, and flowed out between my fingers. So, at this moment, two almost identical ravens were racing around the hall. The audience was delighted. The new bets were on for the one who would get out of the building first, and whether or not the birds would get into a fight.

  I cautioned Alex, who wanted to stop Little Morph.

  — Let him have some fun, — I sighed. — We’ll start on his education later. If you try to stop it now, they... — I pointed out to the other guests, — may misunderstand our intentions.

  Alex looked at the gamblers making bets and nodded in agreement. Fortunately for us, at least my Copper Wing proved to be more well behaved, and by that time he already had eaten so much that it would have been very difficult for him to move so briskly.

  The crazy performance was suddenly interrupted: another attempt to fly through the door ended successfully for the raven, and he left the Tavern. Little Morph, unprepared to part with his new partner in the game so soon, flew right after him.

  — What the Bleep is this all about! — I reacted. The Phasm might be something of a waste of space as a pet, but he was my waste of space, and I felt responsible for him.

  — Alex, Copper Wing, follow me! — Without looking to see if they were following me or not, I dived through the open door.

  CHAPTER 21:

  THE FOREST CHASE

  My fears were justified: the chase of the raven and my drunken pet led us into the forest. The truth was that I hadn’t considered the possibility that my out of its skull pet would even have considered flying somewhere guaranteed to be full of monsters that were after its lean carcass without our support.

  Oddly enough, on our way we didn’t see a single monster! Even more so, when we had already caught up with the fugitives, and we could not only hear them, but also see them, on several occasions I thought that I saw monsters fleeing from their flight path. It looked like the raven’s behavior was well known in this forest, and nobody wanted to get involved with the bird when it was drunk.

  Running through an unfamiliar forest in the dark wasn’t pleasurable at all: the branches were scratching at my face, and I was constantly stumbling. Then we heard a boom-like sound! The sound reminded me of an impact of a cobblestone thrown from a high-rise building, but not quite so loud.

  — It sounds like something decided to go after them after all ... — Alex spoke breathlessly. It looked like the chase through the forest hadn’t been easy for him either. Without slowing down, we reached a place where we thought that the booming noise had come from earlier.

  — Wow! — I ran to a fallen tree. It looked to me like the grey raven had misjudged its flight path, and the tree just got in the way.

  — Now I understand why the monsters steered clear of the raven! — The boy's voice was full of respect. — I would have got out of its way as well. Its strength is unbelievable! Perhaps it’s the drink that makes it so strong.

  My intuition, which had previously been dormant, at this moment was working at its best. I just knew that I needed to catch up with our fugitives.

  — I don’t know what makes it so strong, but I know for sure that we must hurry!

  From the tone of my voice, Alex understood that the matter was serious, and didn’t ask unnecessary questions. We rushed to where the strange noise was coming from.

  The shape of the trees had changed: their trunks started resembling a wire twisted by a child, and the foliage had turned black. The grass disappeared to be replaced by rotten moss. The smell of decay and rot was stuck in my nose. Another minute of running and we were in a clearing, in the middle of which was a large black tent decorated with a strange repeating pattern. A thought popped through my head that I had read about this and even seen it some time ago. I couldn’t remember where or when, but I didn’t have time to think about it.

  The flame of a large campfire near the tent wasn’t red, but with black and blue flames. Just a couple of steps away from the fire there stood a fragile old woman dressed in long and shimmering black and silver clothes, easily keeping hold of the raven and throwing it around by its claws.

  — Ah, you drunken feather factory! — She was yelling. — You are drunk again and I think you’ve been fighting ... — The woman thought for a moment. — There’s no question about it.

  At that moment, the fire rose and I saw her face. Beauty and ugliness are the first associations that came to my mind. The woman's face was incredibly beautiful, but her eyes were both white, like those of a blind person and without pupils, and instead of eyebrows there seemed to be stitches from surgery. There was a dreamy expression on her face that expressed a desire to commit murder. It made my skin crawl.

  — It looks like you've exhausted your usefulness and now I don’t need you anymore. I have already spent a lot of magical energy on you. You have violated our agreement and brought strangers here, and that’s the last straw. So, now I can have my fun with all of you, and once I have finished, I can use you as ingredients in my spells ... — After making another turn, the witch's hand directed the raven straight into the fire.

  We all began to react at the same time. It would have been pointless to give out instructions in such a situation. Everyone already knew what they had to do. At the last moment, my Copper Wing managed to push the body of the raven away, preventing him from falling into the fire, but in doing so he heavily bruised one of his wings. It seemed that he wouldn’t be able to help in combat for some time. I quickly looked around. I saw Little Morph, who was lying unconscious on the other side of the clearing.

  — Well, come on then, Newcomer! — The woman's voice was creaky and literally cut me to the core. — Show me what you can do.

  Black clusters of needles of energy flew at me. The only thing I could do to avoid the assault was to fall to the ground. If it wasn’t for Alex, who attacked the witch with fire, forcing her to create a magic shield, I would have been a big pin cushion for these black needles. Rolling to one side, I jerked up and launched the “Falling Leaves” spell.

  The witch laughed:

  — This will be more interesting than I anticipated!

  Not a single leaf reached its target - they all rotted in the air before reaching the witch. The boy’s arrows couldn’t penetrate the witch’s protection spell. So, then it was down to me. The sword in my hand was vibrating excitedly; its desire to taste the enemy's blood was stronger than usual.

  “Does it really hate witches so much, or does it just love the taste of their blood?” — I asked myself.

  A dozen steps later and I found myself right next to the witch. The thistle flowers thrown by my left hand rotted in the air, not reaching the witch's eyes, but they almost got as far as to her corneas.

  “So, she isn’t using a protection spell, but some sort of artifact. It somehow controls decay; however, it takes some time to use it ...”

  Of course, all these thoughts didn’t stop me from continuing my attacks, but my attacks made little impact. Wild laughter alternated with the constant magical attacks from the witch. She was dodging the sword strikes like a dandelion seed blowing in the wind. Her clothes were behaving as if they were alive, too: even when my sword managed to cut into them, the witch seemed to turn into a stream of air and flow around the blade.

  “If this continues much longer, then I’ll soon be finished ...” — I thought to myself.

  The longer the fight lasted, the better my “Sliding Movements” attacks had seemed to work, but then everything suddenly changed. With every new attack by the witch, it was more difficult for me to evade the needles. Her attacks had already inflicted many rotting cuts upon me. Although the damage from these attacks wasn’t significant, the decay inflicted was slowly reducing my life po
ints. It seemed that the witch's talent was akin to my “Sliding Movements” skill, but in this case she studied my defense and took the best opportunities to defeat her opponent. As her magical attacks changed, my “Sliding Movements” became simply no longer effective.

  I was being tormented by vague doubts. This fight could be the fight in which I would be the first Newcomer to die in this world. I suddenly felt incredibly sorry for myself: I had come so far, and most likely I was already quite close to the place that Alex was so anxious to get to. Even if I couldn’t make a name for myself and stay in the game, I could still save him. Later, when the game would be launched to the general public, we could meet again. But if I was to die now, then he would die along with me forever, and my Copper Wing would die alongside him and end his desire to start a new dynasty. The last and only place where I was able to tie my possible resurrection was next to the village of Dee. If I were to rise there, then I wouldn’t be able to reach here again in time. The energy of my name was just not enough. Simply, none of my tactics were working against the witch, and for most of the fight I wasn’t even able to touch her clothes. So, how could I possibly defeat her?

  All this time Alex continuously fired at the witch, and, despite the fact that his attacks didn’t cause any damage, the witch tried very hard to dodge them. Then I noticed that the witch's shield had changed a little in color from the arrow strikes. It seemed that his actions were about to break her defensive shields down, and this possibility was better than I could have hoped for. I watched closely as the color of the shield changed, and eventually it blinked out for the last time.

 

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