Survival Quest (The Way of the Shaman: Book #1)

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Survival Quest (The Way of the Shaman: Book #1) Page 16

by Vasily Mahanenko


  I sighed in resignation, and went to my favorite place. The orc couldn't stand it when people came to him with requests. If I asked him to bring me some Precious Stones I could get into trouble, which I'd very much rather avoid. To endure an extra month in the mine for the sake of a chess set? Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather make them out of stone or ask Sakas to make the pieces out of wood. With these thoughts I started work on making +3 rings. If I had time on my hands I had to spend it well and equip myself in the best way possible.

  After I'd made the rings, I had around four hours left until the end of the working day and I decided to go to Kart's section to continue levelling up Endurance - the Rats in that section were still untouched. I was even curious: was my access to this section now removed or left in place until it was assigned to some other prisoner? I decided to quit guessing and, for the second time today, headed in the direction of the mine.

  I still had access to it, but the Rats let me down. The section had only one representative of the 'grey tribe', whom I tried to avoid hitting altogether. I even tried to heal it, but my healing had no effect on the Rat. I could only stretch the 'pleasure' of Rat bites for forty minutes, which got my Endurance up to 5. It was disappointing that I could not really feel the 1% reduction in pain. Now all that remained was going back to the Smithy and getting on with making rings for everyone. I looked around Kart's section and decided to smash some more veins. I didn't have much left (just 34%) until level 9 in Mining, which meant around 13 Copper veins. The three hours until the end of the working day were enough for me to get through them.

  When I started on the fourth vein something caught my eye. I turned around, bewildered, and saw a Copper Vein that looked very different from the others: it was larger and had a rich greenish tinge. I walked up to it, perplexed, put my hands on this pile of rocks and looked at its properties:

  Large Copper Vein. Spawn chance: 0.01%. Required Mining level: 9 and above.

  That's some stroke of luck! My eight levels in Mining and my +1 pick made it just possible to meet the requirements. With a better grip on the pick I readied to smash this pile of stones and see what it might drop. If an ordinary Copper Vein produced 5-6 pieces of ore, this one should give all 10 or even more. Let's see now. With my level of Strength and Mining such a pile shouldn't be much of a challenge.

  In my eagerness I got carried away and went at the vein forgetting all else. A hit and then another and one more. What's that message?

  Energy level: 30. Stop, you angry Shaman!

  Ah, this is my pre-set warning, put in place to prevent a stupid death from loss of Energy. It's been a while since I saw it, why did it pop up now? I came to and looked around. What the...! My Energy level was 30, while the Large Copper Vein Durability was at 40%. How long had I been hitting it for? Suddenly the horn signaling the end of the working day sounded through the mine. Wow, was I at it for nearly two hours? I went to get the water to restore my Energy and continued to smash the vein. ‘Just like my first day in the mine,' I chuckled; the first Copper Vein also gave me a fair amount of trouble. I spent another hour reducing the vein's durability to 5% and then sat down for a rest. My Energy level was sufficient to continue working, but I was mentally worn out: it's been a while since I got stuck like this with one ore vein. Only one thing puzzled me - why didn't Kart tell me about this kind? Despite such a small spawn chance, in his ten years of work such a vein had to appear at least once. The only explanation was that he never tried to smash it. He had to meet the daily quota, so getting distracted by such a strange and labor-heavy vein was pretty much pointless.

  I sighed and went back to hitting the vein. 4% Durability. I wondered what dropped from veins like this. If smashing it needs such an unbelievable amount of effort, it must contain some sort of a bonus. 'Could it drop a chest of treasure?' I chuckled to myself. 'Yeah, right, and then some Pirate Flint would pop up, kick my ass and take the chest away from me.' 3% Durability. ‘But I'm not going to give him the chest. When Flint gets close I'll knock his wooden leg from under him with the pick. And then run like hell. A one-legged Flint won't be chasing me very far. Damn, but what about his parrot? Named Iago, I think. He can fly and can shred me to bits. So I'll have to give up the chest.’ 2% Durability. ‘Well, he can kiss my ass - the chest's mine. As soon as the parrot flies up to me, I'll send a Lesser Lightning Spirit at him. Or a couple of them. Or maybe a dozen, all at once. Now I have a Tambourine, thanks to Kart and Sakas, so Iago hasn't a chance. If the lightning doesn't get him, he'll die from laughter, looking at me dancing around with it.’ 1% Durability. ‘But while I'll be dancing with the tambourine, Flint may have time to hobble over. He'll have me then. Maybe we can share? Split it half-half, like good mates - they can have the chest and I all its contents. That should make everyone happy. Right, that's how we'll do it then.’

  When the vein's Durability Bar flickered for the last time and the vein disappeared, I involuntarily took a better grip of the pick and turned around in expectation of Flint, flinging it at the messages that were popping up.

  Experience gained: +5 Experience, points remaining until next level: 476

  Skill increase:

  Mining increased by 1. Total: 9

  Strength increased by 1. Total: 6

  +20% to Stamina. Total: 57%

  Working this hard is bad for you, I thought as I caught my breath and realized that no Flint was going to appear. My senses and the deepening shadows told me that the food would stop being served any time now; I had to run fast or I wasn't going to make it. I quickly gathered all that was dropped by the vein, without even taking a look at what I'd got - that could wait after the food was sorted out. Examining all the loot in the twilight wasn't the best idea anyway. Gripping my pick, I ran at full speed to the place where food was handed out. I got there just as they shut shop. The overseer in charge of the line was already packing away when I ran to him, the first empty plate I could grab in my hands.

  "I've handed in the quota, I should get my food now," I fired at him, catching my breath.

  "Food is handed out in the course of two hours after the bell is rang," replied the overseer and continued to pack. "The two hours are now over, and no food is to be handed out. Sorry, Mahan, my instructions on this are very clear. If you're unhappy about any of this, you're welcome to appeal to the mine management. Right now I have enough to do as it is."

  Without a minute's loss I headed to the administration building. I no longer cared that the governor didn't like to be bothered with requests - I may not survive the ten hours until the morning meal. Although no, I'd probably survive if I restored my Hit Points with Fried Rat every thirty minutes, but the sensations in my stomach would still be there and I'd be looking at a long sleepless night.

  The boss was sitting behind his favorite desk and reading some papers. When I entered the office, he looked at me questioningly and lifted an eyebrow.

  "Today I personally met my mining quota and handed it in to Rine, but didn't make it in time to get the evening meal. I was told that to get my portion I had to ask you for permission. So, that's why I'm here," I said all in one breath, once again feeling uncomfortable under the orc's gaze.

  "The food stops being handed out two hours after the ringing of the bell. After that no food is handed out to the prisoners," the orc's heavy voice rang through the office. "I can't give you food even if I really wanted to: there simply isn't any more in the mine. Now go, I still have a lot of work to do."

  Dumbfounded, I came out into the muggy air of the mine outside. The boss just sent me off to die. Me, with my Friendly reputation, the one who made the Kameamia for him. This cannot be, it's just illogical! But perhaps this isn't about logic? Perhaps the orc doesn't want to help me because he knows that I will manage to find a way out by myself, just like with the Kameamia and the copper sheets made by Kart. But what is the way out then?

  I headed for my favorite thinking spot instead of the barracks and fitfully began to go through what I could do t
o remain alive in the next ten hours. Firstly, I really must make myself some Fried Rat, because I can't heal myself and would have to restore my Hit Points constantly. Secondly... What the other thing was I really had no idea - except to quickly think up a painkiller of some kind, since there was already an unpleasant tingling in my stomach.

  Drawing a blank on that one, I went to make the Fried Rat. I didn't have that much meat on me, since I stopped collecting it: selling it to Rine for a couple of coppers when I had a couple of thousand gold on my hands would have been... strange. Now I was very glad I'd saved one 40-unit pack of meat for a rainy day. And today it was raining cats and dogs, all right...

  I laid out all the needed ingredients and started to fry. Unlike that first time, when I was only learning and my Cooking level was low, now the fried pieces of meat looked quite appetizing. So juicy and golden, with a pleasant aroma too. 'What a pity this isn't beef,' I thought in passing, 'or I'd make an excellent marbled steak right now.'

  I cooked the first lot and started on the second and then tried to eat a piece, because the pangs in the stomach were starting to get to me and my Hit Points were gradually diminishing. 'And so the race between the mine restrictions and my meat supply commences,' I chuckled and bit into the piece. Mmmm, tasty stuff!

  Attention! You ate a foreign object and lost your daily food buff. -1 Strength, Energy is lost 50% faster. Bonus for ingesting improved food: You have been freed from penalties related to food intake for the next 30 minutes.

  Buff gained: Strength +1, Stamina +1. Duration - 12 hours.

  Hit Points restored. Total Hit Points: 190 of 190.

  What?! What did I just eat? I grabbed the second piece of Fried Rat and looked at its properties.

  Fried Rat. Description: Fried Rat meat may not have a very pleasant taste, but in dire need will prevent you from dying of hunger. Crafting bonus: the food has a pleasant appearance, smell and taste, increasing your Stamina and Strength. Special features of the Pryke Copper Mine location: You have been freed from penalties related to food intake for the next 30 minutes. On use: restores 20 Hit Points, +1 Stamina for 12 hours, +1 Strength for 12 hours. Minimum level: 4

  10 hours. If the buffs last 30 minutes, I need 20 pieces of fried meat. I'll make it...

  My sleepy, red eyes watched the overseer getting ready to serve the morning meal. I've made it - although I did fall asleep a few times just to wake up from an excruciating pain in my stomach. Then with some effort I'd shoved another piece of Fried Rat into my mouth, swallow it without chewing, clearly understanding that I could not afford to fall asleep. Now all that remained was to get my morning food buff and forget this whole incident like a bad dream. If not for Crafting, which allowed me to ignore the penalties for 30 minutes at a time, I'd...

  I woke up around midday and decided not to go to the mine: I had plenty of ore, I had levelled up my Strength yesterday and although the probability of finding another Large Vein was small, it scared me somewhat - what if I got carried away with work again? The thought of increasing my Endurance through Rats after yesterday... made me shudder. Not now, thanks. I took out my bag to see how much ore I mined yesterday. Right, this I already had, this too - ah, here's the new stuff. Wow, 22 pieces; not bad for one vein. And what's this? I don't remember seeing this before. A stone about three or four fists in size was lying in my bag. What are its properties?

  A piece of untreated Malachite.

  Short and clear. A piece of untreated Malachite. Such a neat phrase, but I forgot my nightly food problems in an instant: our mine had Precious Stones!

  I suppressed the first impulse to run to the orc and slam the stone on his table and began to think of what could be made from this piece. I did not see any principal difference between granite, from which I cut the Rose, and Malachite, so my task was to think of something interesting, cut it out of this piece and then take the result to the governor.

  I sat around for two hours and could not think of anything good. I had no idea what could be cut from Malachite. My imagination turned out random ideas of what I could make: a toad, a tree leaf or our boss. And why not - he's also green and would look really good made from Malachite. I immediately discarded these thoughts: I had enough of our governor in flesh and blood and having his face stare at me in Malachite as well was too much. When I began my third round of thoughts edging towards a green orc looking very interesting in Malachite, I headed off to sleep. 'That's it, my brain is overloaded and I can’t think any more. It's time to rest.'

  With a sigh of relief I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes, but a green orc appeared again and I kicked at him angrily in my mind. What is it with the orc apparitions? There was one small comfort - the orc that had appeared to me looked nothing like our boss. The virtual orc stood, holding enormous yatagans in both hands, and his face was so frightening and distorted by anger that it was impossible to look at him without a shudder. I never saw so much fury in someone's eyes. It seemed that every line of his face was speaking of insatiable blood-lust, making the orc an embodiment of rage. Blood rage. The unusual battle garb, almost completely covered with spikes and huge studs, scabbards for the yatagans, attached to the back, hair tied in a knot and heavy boots, with snarling wolves on their tips - all this gave this orc a very colorful and eye-catching look. The figure was so detailed and clear and the orc himself was full of such a warlike spirit that the viewer was involuntarily filled with respect for such a warrior. One could fear him or hate him, but one would respect him. This was a true Warrior of his tribe. Maybe I really should make one from Malachite? It would make an excellent figurine.

  As soon as I thought this, a piece of Malachite appeared next to the orc, but to my surprise it was much larger than the warrior. Strange, the actual piece of Malachite was not nearly as big as the one that appeared in my imagination, or was it a hint that the orc's figure should be small? If yes, then it would explain the comparative size of the orc figure to the piece of Malachite. But what should I do with the leftovers? Should I give them to Rine as usual? My toad-demon of greed - that very same one that I decided not to carve - would strangle me bare-handed. Perhaps I should make several orcs? As if reading my thoughts the number of orcs increased to eight. At first they all stood in a row and then began to mix together, forming a figure that resembled the Malachite stone in form. 'What on earth would I do with eight orcs?' a thought flashed across my mind, but I barely noticed it, being fully absorbed by the creative process. When the figures mixed together and became completely still, I combined them with the projection of the Malachite. Yes, they all fit perfectly, as if they were made for each other. Now I just had to separate the figures and enjoy the result.

  I couldn't tell how much time it took me to separate the figures in stone, but it felt like a good while. When the last orcs joined the row, I sighed in relief: all I had to do now was remove the excess pieces of Malachite from the figures that had been left there after the separation and polish. As soon as I began on the first figure, I was taken out of the design mode, as I’ve been calling it for some time now, by a rough push on the shoulder.

  "Mahan, you all right there?" I opened my eyes and saw a heavy figure of an orc looming above me. The thought rushed by: 'I didn't even get around to polishing you, so what's with the pushing?' Seeing the orc was so unexpected that I even backed off, putting my hands in front of me.

  "Mahan, maybe we should call the boss? Why are you crawling away from me? You haven't hit your head, have you?" asked the orc in surprise, and I finally came to myself. It was Sakas, our Woodcarver and my new right hand as the local supervisor. Damn, I'll go stark raving mad with these orcs. Why of all the prisoners in the mine, with just one orc among them, it's this orc that had to be the one to snap me out of it? Some 'plague of orc' we have here.

  "Thank you Sakas, everything is all right; I just got lost in my thoughts," I replied as soon as I caught my breath from such an unexpected coincidence. "Why are you pushing me: did something happen?"

&nbs
p; "It's just there's only thirty minutes left until they stop serving the morning meal and you were sitting there without any sign you were going to budge any time soon. We brought food to you, but you wouldn't even eat from a spoon. So we got worried and decided to push you awake."

  One of these days, when there won't be a friendly human (or orc) nearby, I'll starve to death with my approach to crafting items. I thanked Sakas and, quickly finishing the food, returned to my design mode and started to remove unwanted details from my orcs.

  I freed the legs and body of the figure form excess Malachite, but spent quite a lot of time on the orc's head, or rather on his eyes. Even in the virtual mode I just couldn't manage to make them really fierce and savage. I needed some kind of a template, to emphasize the specific feel of an orcish gaze. And then I remembered the moment when I was playing my Hunter and we made a raid on an orc settlement to steal their totem. The gaze of the orc leader when we tied him up and dug up the totem in front of him was exactly what I was going for now. And how much money and items we got out of them in return for that totem... That's one fond memory right there. But I digress. Concentrating on the figure I made several additional cuts. Right, now I've got it. One close look at those eyes was enough to make your skin crawl all over the place; you wanted to stop whatever you were doing and quickly put some distance between you and this mad orc. I took note of the image of the stone in my memory and opened my eyes. It was evening. So it seemed like it took a whole day to create one of these figurines. No matter, the result was worth not rushing it and doing it properly.

  It took me eight days to make all the figures. I completely forgot about levelling up my reputation and the fact that I might have left the mine in just twelve days' time if I continued to kill Rats. I was fully immersed in the creation of the orcs. When the last figure took its place in my mind, I put them in a row and began to examine the result of my labor. I was very pleased with it: eight warrior-orcs, menacing and fierce, strong and mighty. What struck me was that all the orcs had different faces, despite me using the same template for them. They had similar features, but some had longer fangs or more deeply set eyes and so with each of them. I smiled, surprised, and thought that if I had an army like that when I left the mine and if they were all my level or a few levels higher than me, I'd be a force to be reckoned with in Barliona. Soon everyone would know the dread band of orcs and their Shaman leader. Now I just had to make my figurines from real stone. I laid out pieces of Malachite before me and, taking each piece in turn, entered the design mode and imagined how the shape of the stone was changing in line with the orc figure. This took me a few more hours and when I completed the last orc and opened my eyes all my figurines were right there before me. All together they looked even more fierce than in my imagination and, despite their small size (about a thumb in height), were so detailed that you felt they could come to life any moment and start destroying everything in their path.

 

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