by Andrew Novak
“You’re right. But here’s my second option. You run though the options with the chip and pass into New Atrium, just in case. First, I’ll try another way that might work faster. And this way is also linked with Alterra.”
“Do as he says,” Goodwin quickly interjected. “I don’t know what all this about a fiery dog is, but do everything Jack asks. The situation is serious. I’ll tell you everything in detail later.”
Egghead opened his mouth — to object, probably. For a few seconds, he looked from Jack to the old man and back again. Then nodded:
“Okay. Jack, the headset is in the corner over there, sitting on the table. Use it as much as you need.”
“And what about the dog?”
Another smile stretched across Egghead’s formless face:
“Oh, the dog! The dog is quite interesting…”
Then, apparently, he read something in Jack’s expression, immediately checked himself and continued in a serious tone:
“I found info about the winged fire dog, and it wasn’t easy. This creature is divine in nature.”
“But the gods left Alterra a long time ago.”
“That’s right. You met with the last of the War Hounds. A pack of these animals accompanied Ged in his exploits, as the old legends go.”
“How old?”
“So old that they have nothing to do with the current quests on Stoglav. I had to dig through the archives to find legends about the Dogs of War. There were seven, seven fiery winged hounds. They blazed across the sky with a howl when Ged set off for battle. The Wild Hunt is what they called it. And people fell to their knees when the Wild Hunt sounded overhead. It was believed that, when a comet with a fiery tail appeared in the sky, war was coming. It meant that the courageous Ged left to fight.”
“This is all, of course, very interesting,” Jack said tiredly, “but get to the point. How do I kill it?”
“That wasn’t in the archives.”
“Wait, wait…” Jack rubbed his forehead. He was having difficulty gathering his thoughts. “You said there were seven? The Dogs of War? But this is the last one? Which means the other six were destroyed. How?”
“That’s right,” Egghead perked up. “That’s exactly what came to my mind.”
“Get on with it, will you? Don’t stall. I’ll give you a Hydra Stinger and a whole handful of Teeth as soon as I get to Maxitor. Have you figured out how to use them? You don’t have to tell me about it. I’ll just give them to you, sell them to whomever you want. I’m not up for it right now. Tell us who defeated the six Dogs and how they did it.”
Egghead cleared his throat, turned his eyes upward, and recited, parroting the informant in Alterra:
“Ged decided to battle the great sorcerer Veseloth, who lived in his impregnable fortress on the island of Geon, and the people of Gaerthon beheld Wild Hunt, rushing through the sky. The struggle lasted three days and three nights. Veseloth was a powerful sorcerer. He secured his stronghold well, enveloped it in magical protection, and his servants were numerous and courageous. Six Dogs of War fell in battle, their fire extinguished and wings broken. They crashed into the black towers of the fortress. Only afterwards did Ged manage to break into the Chambers of Veseloth and strike the sorcerer down with his sword of light. But even the warrior God himself was wounded. Merciful Astra rushed to her hero, flushed his wounds with her tears, and carried him to the Gods’ chambers, where Ged spent a full year recovering from the great battle. And for a whole year, the last survivor of the Dogs of War howled at his bedside, mourning its fallen brothers.” Egghead shook himself and ended in a normal voice. “So the legend goes.”
“And what did the sorcerer Veseloth use to kill the Dogs of War?”
“I told you everything I managed to find,” Egghead answered. “But we can assume that his weapon remains still in the fortress ruins on the island of Geon. Search the ruins and, if you’re lucky, you’ll find it.”
“Okay. How do I find the island of Geon?”
“There’s no record. You see, it’s a legend that has no connection with the adventures of modern Alterra. Overall, nothing is known about the island. Maybe it doesn’t exist at all?”
Jack thought about it. Yes, it was a problem… How to solve it? Where to start, where to find the end of the thread to unravel, which would lead him to the answer? He needed a hint, some kind of clue… The island must exist. It has to. So how to find it?
“This Veseloth, he was a black mage, eh? Well, if a god of light went to battle against him… Does that mean Veseloth worshipped Necta?
“That would make sense,” Egghead said carefully. He was unsure, and didn’t want to give wrong answers.
“Perhaps it’s worth trying to ask the goddess…” Jack mumbled thoughtfully, then added louder: “Well, let the old man tell you about our adventures in reality. I’m going to Alterra.”
Jack walked to the corner, untangled the equipment thrown on the table, hooked himself up and turned on the console. His consciousness slid through the familiar rainbow tunnel, rushing to Alterra — a happy world, where people don’t really die.
* * *
Night in Alterra was beautiful and indifferent. The Dead Wind swayed lightly on the waves among flecks of silver. The island of Lahittes stood tall before him as a black mass, above which stretched the star-studded, dark violet dome of the sky. And above the ancient temple, a red glow smoldered. The last of the Dogs of War guarding the ruins.
A message from Ruger appeared in chat:
Jack, where’d you get to? That damned fire creature was stronger than I expected.
The necromancer wasn’t in the game just then, but Jack typed his reply:
I’m here. We need to meet. I have bad news. Including news about the fiery beast.
When Ruger entered the game, he’d read it. Jack went to the shore and headed to the village. No matter what, he first needed to talk to Elder Kaled and finish the quest. It would be quick.
Something flashed among the stones underfoot. Jack stopped. In front of him was a scattering of artifacts and equipment items. It looked like a drop from a killed player at the place of their death. For a few seconds, he looked around… then picked up Theokrist’s Cloak… a ring adorned with a silver skull with a rubylocked in its teeth… and a black waistcloth. Yeah, it was hers…
And then the imagination painted an image of what had happened here: Lisa, naturally, did not listen to him and entered the game. When she moved ashore from the boat, Clive and his cronies burst into the trailer, and grabbed Lisa The connection was broken off and the items lying on the shore were the penalty exiting the game in the wrong place. It could also take levels away. Only, it didn’t matter for Lisa anymore.
Jack shook in head, collected the loot and strode to the settlement. Elder Khaled, of course, opened almost instantly at the knock. He was an NPC. He didn’t need sleep.
“Thank you, Wanderer,” he began his quest monologue, “you have freed our island from the Five-headed Hydra. Praise the gods, they’ve sent a great hero to our land. The only pity is that our village is poor and we have no riches with which to reward you.”
“Okay, okay,” Jack said gruffly.
He simply couldn’t be bothered to play along with the NPC and keep up the small talk. At this point he should give some florid speech, refuse any rewards in a show of modesty and wait until Kaled offered some mysterious prize, which was, of course, part of the script. Kaled surely had something special stashed away. But Jack could only manage, “Okay, okay”. Let the NPC work it out himself.
“But wait!” the old Lahitte remembered suddenly. “I can give you a certain old object that, by some quirk of fate, found its way to our shores. We are simple fishermen and shepherds. We don’t know what it might be good for. But the thing looks mysterious. Maybe it will serve you in your travels?”
Attention! You have completed the quest “Kill the hydra”.
Reward: Theokrist’s Compass. Rare
You receive 1 XP.
You have 54XP. Earn 6 XP to unlock a new skill.
The elder handed Jack a odd little contraption, made from etched bronze rings, that turned continuously around a center point. Overall, the rings formed a latticework ball, which sat lightly in his palm. Through the outer rings, spinning slowly around the center point, he could see a second layer, and a third under that one. In the center of this moving lattice, he made out the tiny figure of a sitting person. The bronze man’s hand was extended in front of his body.
When the extraordinary artifact migrated to Jack’s hands, the spinning ceased. The rings froze and the bronze man pointed somewhere to the northwest.
“There,” old Kaled was pleased, “the thing recognizes you as its master. I don’t know what the change in it signifies. But before, the rings always moved.”
Jack moved his arm, turning the Compass. The rings gently tinkled and the person at the center also moved, his hand still pointing toward the northwest.
“Thank you, venerable Kaled,” nodded Jack, “and would it be possible to buy a black sheep in this village?”
He was going to bring Necta a sacrifice to receive a Dark skill.
“I’ll not allow my fellow townsmen to accept payment from our great deliverer,” the Lahitte clasped his hands. “Please take the animal as our gift! I ‘ll give you the fattest sheep from my herd.”
Jack didn’t dare approach Astra’s temple, fearful of the War Hound. Again, as on Scand island, he went to the hills between the shore and the center of the island, where the locals, logically, should pasture their goats. A short while later and he found a spot where two trails intersected.
Jack stopped and pulled the Shadow of King from its sheath. Time for some divine counsel. As usual, he addressed Necta:
“Great Goddess, accept this sacrifice. And please don’t be upset that this crossroads is awful.”
And once again, as soon as the blood poured from the throat of the sacrificed sheep to the ground, a giant specter rose up before Jack. She even seemed as if she had grown somewhat larger. He needed to bring sacrifices to Necta more often, Jack thought, or she might shrink.
“Jack the Tramp, my loyal servant,” Necta’s voice struck his ears, “your sacrifice pleases me. Receive your reward. From this moment, Path of Blood is in your power to use. You will instantly be transported to any crossroads where blood has been shed in my name.”
“Is this similar to a portal?” Jack inquired. “I’ll be able to get to any place where I made a sacrifice?”
“Yes, my faithful servant. You need only wash a crossroads in fresh blood and recall a location where I accepted your sacrifice in the past. The fool Astra can shed only tears, but her servants enjoy the portals. A true hero, one who sheds blood, should receive no less.”
In the corner of Jack’s vision, a new icon appeared next to the old, familiar skill icons, shaped like a crimson drop.
20 XP Path of Blood gives the player the ability to teleport to any place where he has previously made a sacrifice to Dark Necta.
An excellent skill, perhaps best of all others Jack had acquired. With this, there was no more need to waste his money buying teleport scrolls from the Wanderer mages! Just a matter, now, of cutting a throat. And doing it more often, so that he had access to more Dark Portals.
“I am most grateful, Great Goddess,” Jack gave a deep bow. “Now, I will paint crossroads on both continents with blood, if only to create more portals. But what if I need to, say, reach the island of Geon, where I haven’t yet made a sacrifice? On Stoglav and Gaerthon, of course, I’ll bring offerings for the slaughter in your honor, but what about Geon island? Is it not a worthy place on which to pay homage to the Night Mother?”
Jack issued all this in one breath and surprised himself at just how coherently it all came out. Simply somewhat winded… and queasy. If this damned radiation sickness didn’t interfere with using Path of Blood.
Necta nodded nobly:
“Island of Geon. Domain of the best and most skillful of my servants. In earlier times, Veseloth labored well for me.”
The Goddess paused and bowed her ghostly head as if lost in her memories.
“Veseloth, Keeper of the Icy Flame,” she said finally. “He did not look after his own Snowy Flame and died defending it. Listen! To send you to the island of Geon, I need some object from there. For example, this.”
Something tangible materialized in her semi-transparent hand, a tiny bit of blackness.
“As you wish, you may visit the island of Geon and honor the memory of the great Veseloth. But first, prove that you are worthy to kneel before the dead hero. Solve my riddle: how many fiery tails are there in the body of a comet?”
Fiery tails… he wrinkled his forehead. Could it be that simple? Admittedly, it was simple for one had already faced the hound and learned all about the divine legend of its past. If Egghead hadn’t dug up the information and passed it onto Jack, how would he answer?
“There were seven,” he said. “Seven dog tails. But now only one remains. And unless my luck runs out, then that one won’t arrive any time soon.”
It seemed to him a slight smile lifted the corners the goddess’s shadowy lips.
“So be it. Go now, Jack the Tramp.”
Something nearby began to shake, swell, filling with darkness… A black vortex formed in the air, shaped like a huge egg, the bottom portion nearly touching the ground. Necta raised her arm to the vortex and dropped the tiny object from Geon into the whirling darkness.
20 XP Path of Blood gives the player the ability to teleport to any place where he has previously made a sacrifice to Dark Necta.
The Dark Portal! Jack’s eyes swept over it, then he peered at the goddess, who regarded him in silence, and stepped inside the dense, incorporeal blackness. For an instant, everything faded and a droning sounded in his ears, like the echo of a thousand whispering, otherworldly voices… And when he could see again, the hills with goat paths and the sea below had disappeared. No craggy slopes, no temple ruins lit by the red glow of the War Hound. He had never seen a landscape like this one in Alterra.
Chapter Eight
Veseloth’s Magic
JACK LOOKED around. Oh… he had never seen this before. Everything around shined and sparkled like scattered gems. Snow and ice everywhere. Here and there, he spotted something black under the snow caps, but snow had accumulated over everything as far as the eye could see. Lying between the snowdrifts like black mirrors, were frozen surfaces.
All of it glittered with rainbow-colored sparkles under the silver light of Shadris. Judging by its wintry ornamentation, the island of Geon was located far, far to the north of Alterra. Like hell would Jack have gotten here without Necta’s help. He had never even heard of any snow-covered lands in Alterra. It was unlikely that any other players had reached such a distance.
“Yep,” Jack muttered, “you won’t find a better place to fight the fiery Dogs of War. But let’s see what we can dig up from under the snow.”
He took a step and noticed a dark gizmo under his boots in the sparkling snow.
Veseloth’s Tinderbox
Class: Rare
“Uh, hey, it’s the item from Geon that Necta used to set the coordinates,” Jack mumbled to himself, bending over the relic. “Oh, she must have slipped it to me for a reason… I’ll find Veseloth and return the Tinderbox. The old fellow must have missed it.”
He wandered over to where the snowdrifts towered above the stone blocks. If he looked closely, he could see that these stones had been cut. Were these the ruins of Veseloth’s fortress? If not for everything that had happened to Jack the past few days, he would have admired the high quality of the in-game snow. It even crunched underfoot with every step. But at the moment his thoughts were far away. So Jack didn’t immediately catch on to what was happening. A snowdrift began to stir under his boot and something rose from the snow, showering white flakes down on him. Jack sprang back as something pointed and dark darted towards him.
The snowdrift, dropping white clumps as it moved, made for Jack. The top fell from it revealing a pointed helmet, then another piece of snow fell off and a skull with glowing green eye sockets grinned at its uninvited guest. A few more snowdrifts began to rise, converging in a circle, Jack at its center.
He swung his sword parrying a strike from one of the living dead and backed away, keeping out of the circle they were forming. Above the first enemy that had risen was:
Dead Warrior of Veseloth Expertise: 40 Disease: 50
“Hey, I’m on your side!” Jack remonstrated, for what it was worth.
The skeletons pulled even more tightly together around him. Their rusty blades, darkened by time, threatened from all sides. So far, Jack had only retreated and deflected blows. But he wouldn’t be able to continue that for long.
“What, are your ears frostbitten?” Jack tried again. “I’m a dark servant, got it? I’m with you. Mother Necta herself sent me here.”
The skeletons either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care. Naturally, their ears hadn’t frozen off, since they didn’t have any to begin with. But they did have swords and axes.
Jack backed away, groping in his inventory for the box with it’s engraved goblin face.
His five brave warriors appeared on the snow, but the Undead Warriors were not impressed. They drew nearer to the goblin formation, threatening with weapons and dropping clods of snow as they walked.
“Hercules, attack! Attack the Undead Warriors!”
“Master, we are cold,” they moaned. “We freeze. Cold, freeze…”
The goblins, still whining, sent arrow after arrow at the walking undead, but their light crossbows did little damage.