The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Taleem grimaced in displeasure, pursed his lips and replied:

  “The answer to the first one: those you have not read yet. Answer to the second one: players receive a reward. You owe me one tenth of a granis.

  I lifted my eyebrow questioningly.

  “That’s not fair! It’s not an answer!”

  “The answer corresponds to the question!” The warlock raised his voice. “Some explorer, aren’t you! Is that how you treat information?! Your questions are supposed to bring precise and concise answers that would bring you one step closer to your goal. Just one step! Any leap in knowledge can rob you of significant detail.”

  I sniffed in disappointment but had to admit the comment was fair.

  “The money’s gone,” I took into consideration all that was said and decided to approach it from a different angle: trying to elicit pity. “That’s why I am here – no one taught me the basics; I had to study everything myself. As for exploration, all I have..,” I stumbled remembering the present from the Chancellor of the Academy. I didn’t want to reveal all my secret trumps. It was possible that the Explorers’ Book was not unique in the least and it was possible to buy one at every street corner, but before exposing it I should study it myself.

  “So what is it that you have as an explorer?” Taleem asked with interest.

  “My interest to explore and desire to develop my artifact,” I reported quickly. “Dear Taleem, I would be glad to pay you a quarter of a granis, if you share the information. You did understand what I was trying to ask, right?”

  “Half,” the warlock started haggling. “In addition I’ll teach you how to ask questions properly.”

  “One third,” I decided to dig in my heels. “I am smart; over time I would figure it out myself, so your assistance is not really unique. And it’s way too expensive for a poor explorer.

  “Two fifths,” the librarian resisted. “Or hit the road and try to find another keeper of knowledge. I am sure in Zurich there are tons of those who want to help you for free.”

  “Two fifths and you’ll provide me the books to develop my artifact.” I gnashed my teeth inwardly and decided to give some. I needed information like air, and there was no other place I knew to obtain it. When I tried to access the Temple of Knowledge at night the request was denied. I still had enough granises but they were evaporating at an alarming rate.

  “Agreed. The answer to the first question: yes, an explorer can develop his artifact through books. But only through those that describe the game world. You can’t take a book, say, on physics and level up. Our library has one hundred and seventeen of the books you need. I will provide seven of them for you to explore. There are twenty more that I can make available for an additional granis. Thirty two books you will be unable to use since they are sources of Light; the rest you could only access by permission of their owners. I can tell you their names, but none of them are on Earth any more. As for the second question: the player, or players, depending on the situation, receive the final prize; sometimes it’s granises. But it’s not always a treasure chest. It could be gems, or an artifact enhancer, or some other unique object. The power of the Dungeon monsters and value of the reward object are directly related to the number of the party, up to ten – that’s the limit for the group. I suppose I don’t need to mention the importance of the final prize for the player and how heated things become after the last boss is downed? It’s simpler to pay a fine for breaching the agreement and go for respawn rather than let someone take a gem that’s a ten times enhancer.”

  “Lovely,” I drawled. I had guessed, of course, that the erstwhile registrar had a reason for wanting to join me in my Dungeon. Dolgunata was not resisting the idea of a joint raid too much either, but of course no one told me anything about the final prize. In her Dungeon Dolgunata would take the final loot by right; in mine she would force me to give it up using her charisma – I did not need a witch to figure that out. Speaking of witches. I should not forget about Gromana!

  Taleem gave me some time to think about the situation, then suggested:

  “Have you already promised a joint Dungeon raid to someone?”

  I nodded sadly.

  “I can provide advice, but it will cost you. How to prevent someone else from taking your reward. It will cost you a granis and some information.”

  “This looks like a scam,” I snorted. “You must understand that a cat in the bag for two hundred kilograms of gold is a luxury a beginning player simply can’t afford.”

  “I do understand. So, you can pay me the granis after you complete the Dungeon. As for information – that’s simple as well. Your doll. As an explorer I am interested to know what your ideal woman is like.”

  “Doll?” I tensed. “My ideal woman?”

  “You don’t know yet?” Taleem was upset. “That’s odd. Normally players meet their Doll on the first day.”

  “What doll?” I insisted.

  “After you complete the Academy, the Game gives each player a gift,” Taleem started explaining. “During registration it pulls out of your head the ideal image of your ‘other half’, and then emulates it. The point of the Doll’s existence is to adore its master and fulfill his desires. It’s impossible to give it to someone else, but it’s possible to refuse it… Even though those cases are few and far between. Teachers normally don’t mention Dolls, making it a surprise to their trainees. I was interested about what is your ideal in that respect. There was one elf explorer here before you – he got a male black orc for a Doll. It was funny how he was trying to explain his extremely non-traditional sexual predilections to his parents – that was too much even for the tolerant elves.” The librarian tilted his head back and laughed heartily. “The Game never misses the mark with Dolls.”

  “It’s more or less standard for me,” I mumbled, a little shocked, and Helen’s image appeared in my head. I felt sympathy towards the elf. It’s really wrong to expose one’s most secret desires to be mocked by everyone. “It was a woman, a human… No horns or tails or anything like that. I really didn’t know about Dolls.”

  Taleem did not look upset by my confession. On the contrary, he seemed pleased; then he continued on a more serious note:

  “One of the seven books is actually about , their rights and relations with players. Do make sure to read it before you fall for yours head over heels. It’s important to understand that Dolls are a vehicle created by the Game to satisfy the main needs of the body, nothing else. You can do whatever you want with it.”

  I nodded in gratitude. The librarian then resumed his entrepreneurial approach:

  “Have you decided – are you going to buy my advice on completing the Dungeon?”

  “What advice? Bring the number of players up to ten, make agreements with everyone and the loot is yours?” I asked sarcastically. “And esteemed Taleem, just by chance, happens to know some reliable players, with whom he has no sharing agreements whatsoever, but who would never cheat and who would definitely comply with all the provisions of the agreements?”

  “We can consider that you have saved a granis, and I have received information regarding your Doll,” the warlock shrugged. “Anything else?”

  “You gave up so quickly and don’t even seem upset,” the warlock’s complacency kept bothering me. “If the loot in the Dungeon is so attractive, it’s surprising you are not trying to convince me of the reliability of your players.”

  “My offer for paid advice is still standing,” Taleem was practically shining with self-content.

  “No, thank you. If I was wrong about possibility number one, there is still possibility number two: no one may get it. You mentioned that the more numerous the group, the stronger the bosses will be, and the harder it will be to kill them. Maybe even impossible.” And then it hit me. Registrar, Lefer and myself. Dolgunata, her brother and myself again. Three in each case. There are no coincidences in the Game. “The best number is three players! Right?”

  Taleem sighed, went to a boo
k shelf and retrieved seven brochures from it, about thirty or forty pages each.

  “As promised,” Taleem said dryly and handed them to me. “Go ahead and study those. Once you are done, return them. I will look forward to seeing you with the updated map.”

  The warlock strode proudly back into the hall, leaving me alone with the books. My hands were itching with impatience, but experience suggested that haste makes waste. Who knows this guy? There could be many a source of Light in the office; one wrong book and I would not be able to get away with just a granis for sure. Settling in the armchair, I decided to start with the book on Dolls.

  It took me an entirety of ten minutes to finish this work. Now I knew everything about Dolls. The Game gave each player a present: a Doll, the living embodiment of his ideal, which only wanted one thing: to love and serve its master, and pleasure him in every way. The players were supposed to perceive Dolls as objects in a beautiful package, no more. These creatures had no rights. The present could be smart, stubborn, sarcastic, depending on the player’s wishes. All Dolls bore the mark of the owner that identified them among normal NPCs. Once the player became bored with the Doll, the Game removed it, as it was no longer needed. Until rather recently it had been possible to turn Dolls into players; however, even after becoming a player, those creatures were not free from their inherent desire to belong to their owner. The Game considered that was not humane, and thus the conversion was prohibited. Players who would still dare such a thing would be destroyed together with the Doll. In addition, the Dolls were mortal: if one were to be killed it would respawn as a different NPC. There were even certain rules of etiquette with respect to them. For example, appearing with your Doll in society was bad form. A pet was supposed to bring joy to its master only at home. Well, at least there was no need to return to that little courtyard to pick up Helen. We would run into each other again and again until I either accepted or rejected her. In case of the latter the Doll would be destroyed.

  An hour later I was going to the archivist with a clear understanding: now I would voluntarily become one granis poorer. I needed all the information that I could get on the Game that I could obtain from the local library in order to develop my artifact. The brochures raised the level of the Book of Knowledge by two units, thus bringing the “Neuronal network” attribute to an incredible level 6. Figuring that Taleem had another twenty books in store, I considered the effects of upgrading the artifact by another six levels. The probability was close to 100 percent, and losing such a chance for development so early in the game would be stupid. Those were the thoughts I had as I went to part with my very own granis.

  From the standpoint of game mechanics the books provided by Taleem for the additional fee did not contain anything particularly important. History of class wars, game worlds, the rules of conduct for hunters in Lubot Forest and other “highly relevant” information. I swallowed book after book, breaking only for food and restroom breaks. As an experiment, I read several normal textbooks on quantum physics, about which I knew nothing at all. Taleem had not lied: the experience bar for the Book of Knowledge did not increase one bit; neither did my knowledge about quantum physics. Finally, my labor was rewarded: the Book of Knowledge received the six levels I had hoped for.

  I left the Library puzzled by new considerations. Neither Archibald nor Dolgunata had contacted me yet. We were supposed to have set out for the Dungeon yesterday, but my “allies” kept mum and apparently were not worried about my precious self. The conclusion was obvious: the markers had done their job very well and the headhunters stayed very well informed of my location. Something needed to be done about that. But first the bank: Redel was supposed to have left me an envelope.

  “How can I help you?” The bank, just like similar establishments in most games, was run by goblins. Green men with huge ears wearing stuffy jackets dashed to and fro, seemingly in a chaotic way. But once you took literally a minute, the Book of Knowledge identified the main directions of movement, which did not cross; a few moments later it informed me that the whole pattern was anything but chaos. The goblins seemed like ants capable of fulfilling multiple tasks without the constant control of their superiors, which I, actually, did not even see.

  “There should be an envelope left for me.” I turned around and met the eye of one of the workers, who separated from the stream to find out the reason for my visit.

  “Is this your first visit to the bank?” The goblin requested verification, and once I confirmed it, broke into a merry speech: “Let me tell you about the promotions our bank is running and work, on your behalf, on the financial aspects of the Game. My license ‘D’ enables me to complete transactions of up to seven granises…”

  “Envelope.” I cut off the chatty clerk harshly. I was not in the mood for being too polite. “For Yaropolk. A Paladin.”

  “Please wait.” The goblin’s perked ears flopped again and he merged back into the fast moving stream of the bank clerks. Seeing an information desk nearby I decided not to waste time and studied the areas of the bank’s activities.

  Banks in the Game played one of the key roles with respect to interaction between NPCs and players: they converted granises to gold or bank notes and vice versa. There were no differences between a Game bank and an ordinary one in all other respects.

  Having received the coveted envelope, I did not open it. Who knew – the case could have a time limit for completing it, and I had things to do now. First I wanted to test a theory I had, so I made sure that all the regulations and charter documents for the bank were brought to me. I spent twelve hours of game time, and certainly the goblins now had more grey hair; but I received an excellent confirmation: my artifact developed in the process of reading any papers that had to do with the Game. And even though the bank provided only one level of “Neuronal network”, it was enough to highlight half of Zurich in green. I strolled down the streets and noted with delight how many things were hidden from ordinary players. I was surprised to discover that the Sanctuary had three levels: sewers, ground and roof. Out of curiosity I looked into a manhole and noted the active life of players who did not tolerate daylight.

  In this leisurely and interesting manner I reached the Paladins’ residence. A grey three-storied building was sitting inconspicuously on the bank of the Limmat, and only the sign “Temple of Truth” helped me figure out that the defenders of truth resided there. In a dim empty hall a portly elderly Paladin sat; he tiredly lifted his head as I approached.

  “Paladin Yaropolk, reporting to obtain a quest,” I grinned, pleased with my fruitful walk; the old man sighed heavily. “I need Grizdan!”

  “Took you quite a while to get here,” the gatekeeper said with displeasure, and pulled his notebook out of the desk. The old guy was blind in one eye, which was rather strange: normally during respawn the Game would completely restore the body. Either he had not respawned for a while or his was an abnormal case. I immediately felt a hope that it was the latter and I made a mental not to myself to try and ask if an opportunity presented itself You never know – what if it proves useful knowledge. “There are not many quests now, all we have… My lord!”

  The registrar of Paladins – it was he – jumped up and bowed reverently. It looked somewhat clumsy, as it turned out that the old guy was missing not only an eye but his right leg as well. I turned around and saw a procession exiting a portal. The hall quickly filled with all sorts of Paladins. The shine of their armor dispelled the gloom in the hall, and it became so bright it hurt my eyes. It was the first time that I had seen members of my class in full battle outfits, so I was awed by their beauty. A golden Paladin was striding at the head of the procession. He was moving so fast it was possible to feel the air parting around him, and his aura of power was so thick it was almost palpable. Even though he was not just standing out from the crowd because of the armor, the latter fit very well with the image of a “tough boss”: terrifying spikes; elaborate decorations and engraving. The Book of Knowledge hesitated for
a moment, then clearly identified the armor as the Imperial set. Some players were wearing Klifand and Daro sets as well, but the artifact was unable to identify on its own which one was which, so it marked each armor set with two notes as a possibility.

  “Grizdan, take this one,” the golden Paladin said briefly, and another three fighters stepped out of the portal. Two huge Paladins were carrying a tied-up squirming monster similar to an octopus, that had a head at the end of each tentacle.

  “Hydra,” Grizdan said with awe, and pressed several buttons on his tablet. I stared at the legendary monster. The Earth legends described Hercules killing another one like that, only a larger one. Either the legends lied or the Paladins had managed to catch a younger relative of the well-known monster. But in any case they were seriously cool.

  Several rods extended from the wall, and a force field activated around them.. The Paladins who were holding the monster exhaled noisily. “Good catch, My lord!”

  “Brothers Dungard and Rivier have been affected by chimera’s breath. Put that in the report. Oh, a new one? — The high-born Paladin deigned to notice me. The force field lifted the hydra in the air and took it away somewhere near the ceiling.

  “We’ve been waiting for him for three days, and he showed up only now,” Grizdan nodded. “Archibald’s protégé.”

  “Hunter as well?” The “golden” looked me over head to toe with disdain.

  “Explorer.” I felt awkward. The helmet was completely closed, preventing me from seeing the race of the Paladin, but from his manner of speech I decided he was an elf. His arrogant tone reminded me of Nartalim.

  “Did you issue him a quest?” the Paladin asked Grizdan.

  “No, My lord. Yaropolk arrived here just a moment prior to your triumphant return.”

  Turning around, as if he had just forgotten about our existence, the head of the troop ordered:

  “Send him to retrieve the pendant. This quest will teach him manners.”