by Akella,G.
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level! Current level: 175.
You have 6 talent points to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.
You have 18 stat points to allocate.
"Krian! Wake up, damn you!" Reena's screaming struck at my eardrums. Wave after wave of healing spells washed over me, but the pain wasn't there anymore. A shadow blocked the crimson sky in the slits of my helm, and then a breath blew into my face that stunk so bad my own breath caught in my throat. I broke into a fit of coughing, and sat up sharply.
"Gloom?!"
Roaring his joy in response, the boar gave me an emotional prod in the chest with his snout, and snorted, spraying me generously with more slobber and stench.
"You're alive!" I threw off my helm, paying no mind to my gathered clanmates, and grabbed the boar's muzzle with both hands.
"See, why would he need a girlfriend when he's got his boar?" Reece's voice came through over cries of joy and relief, setting off a wave of laughter. "Now if only I could get one of those..."
"What in Hart's name happened here?" I asked, noticing the Lord of Darkness' colossal lifeless bulk while getting up on my feet.
"You and Nerghall played a staring game for a few seconds, and he lost," Reece snorted, then added in a serious tone. "Dar! Your eyes!"
"What's wrong with them?"
"They're blue!"
"I don't care," I waved dismissively, and looked around for Elnar. "James! Report casualties!"
"No casualties!" the tifling was clearly struggling to maintain a serious demeanor. "Not counting Reena's voice, which she had lost screaming out things I couldn't bring myself to repeat with a knife at my throat," Elnar gave a meaningful wink to the blushing priestess. "Something was up with Vaessa as well, but she seems fine now. She's sleeping."
"Excellent!" I felt a tremendous load fall off my shoulders. All the tension and anxiety of the past week dissipated. I could hardly believe it, but... Nerghall was dead! And though his death had unleashed a flood of new questions, I didn't want to think about that now. All I wanted was to scream with joy, but even that would have to wait for later. "Listen up! Start looting the bodies, but don't touch Kharsa or Nerghall!" I shouted, then shouldered my way through the euphoric demons toward a figure standing off in the distance, wrapped in a cloak woven of darkness.
Chapter 11
She was just as beautiful now as she was then, in the square by Suonu's gates. The same enormous brown eyes, the same flawless figure that no layers of garb could hide. The goddess threw back her hood as I approached, letting her thick raven-black hair cascade down her shoulders.
"What do you want for your work, elder?" the goddess of death asked quietly, her chin thrust slightly forward.
Time appeared to halt, and no eyes were looking in our direction. Even the birds circling overhead seemed to still. Only the wind kept moving, caressing the hair of the Great Essence standing before me.
"I don't want to lose any more of my people," I replied, looking the goddess square in the eyes.
"I did not create the laws of this world, and I cannot make your companions two-lived like you," she shook her head. "But there is something I can do," the young woman drew close to me imperceptibly, stood up on her tiptoes, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. My skin felt the cold wave of death...
Attention! You have garnered the attention of a higher being. Celphata, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth, is friendly to you.
You've earned an achievement: Marked by Death.
Your reputation has increased. All non-player characters who worship Celphata the Goddess of Death relate to you with respect.
You've completed the quest: Celphata's Will.
You have gained a level! Current level: 176.
You have 7 talent points to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.
You have 21 stat points to allocate.
You've learned a unique skill: Pact with the Great Darkness.
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You have gained a level!
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level! Current level: 181.
You have 12 talent points to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.
You have 36 stat points to allocate.
Pact with the Great Darkness. All non-player characters in your clan, regardless of the clan's level, are granted an additional chance to resurrect in the event of death, equal to 50% of the difference between their base chance and 100%. Presently the non-player characters in your clan have a 50% chance to resurrect in the event of death.
Due to the continental event taking place in the Cursed Princedom, all non-player characters bound in the Cursed Princedom who are affected by Pact with the Great Darkness will resurrect only after the conclusion of the continental event at the Craedia Fortress graveyard.
Well, that was something! I'd made the request instinctively, without really thinking about it, but the goddess had met me halfway. And now all my troops had a fifty percent chance of resurrecting at the graveyard of the princedom's main fortress after the continental event concluded. And if my clan were level six, the chance to resurrect would be not twenty percent but sixty. Too bad I couldn't bring back the people lost at Farot!
"Thank you, Celphata."
"Here, this is for the girl," nodding toward Vaessa, lying motionless on the ground, the goddess handed me a signet ring that sparkled in the sunlight. "She's earned it."
Set in a gold band, the large black stone seemed to absorb the surrounding light.
Hatrig's Band of Death.
Accessory; ring.
Durability: 4500/4500.
Epic scalable.
Bind on equip.
No minimum level.
+181 to intellect.
+181 to spirit.
+90 to constitution.
+9% to all magic actions when using spells from the School of Darkness.
Allows interrogation of the dead whose souls have not yet departed the Gray Frontier.
The owner of this ring can safely behold and speak to Celphata the goddess of death.
Weight: .02 lbs.
Forged by the great drow master Elssen.
Barely managing to tear my eyes from the stone, I gripped the ring in my hand and looked up at the goddess.
"How am I able to speak to you, then?"
"You're an exception. Dreamers haven't a need for such crutches."
"I see," I nodded, then looked at the magus as well. "What happened to her father, Celphata?"
"He's fine," a soft smile touched the edges of the goddess' lips. "You'll see him yourself someday, but that's not what's important now. The Twice Cursed are gathering strength," the woman peered into my eyes. "And I see that this isn't the first time you've foiled their plans."
"Sure," I shrugged. "You can hardly do anything nowadays without raining on somebody else's parade."
The conversation had taken a sharp downturn. It was obvious the goddess wanted something from me, and I wasn't in the position to refuse her. At the same time, considering her last quest, the prospect of doing anything else for her was hardly enticing. All I wanted was to sit on the ground, sip leisurely from my flask, rest my head and enjoy the silence. Alas, those actions, while pleasant, were unlikely to win the favor of Great Essences. I allowed myself a sigh, then fished out my pipe, lit it and looked up at the deity. "What can I do for you, Celphata?" I asked, exhaling the smoke.
"Not just for me," not a muscle had moved on the goddess' noble face. "But for all these lands. Your path lies to the Derelict Temple, where Syrat's followers have made their nest. Do you want the god of hatred's adepts to reappear in the temple after you've cleared it out? Why keep a nest of the transformed on the territory that's supposed to be yours?"
"What? I don't—"
"You're not going to march your army on Craedia?" the goddess arched her brow mockingly.
"I don't have an army to march anywhere."
"That's precisely my point." Celphata walked around me, her step light on the grass. "If you turn the main temple altar over to me, Gilthoreans will be cured of their illness at once. And you will leave in your wake the shrine of a grateful goddess who will repay you with a gift, as well as with general support in your war against the Twice Cursed scum."
You've accessed the quest: Celphata's Will II.
Quest type: epic, unique.
Turn over the control of the main altar in the Derelict Temple to Celphata, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth.
Reward: experience, unknown, instant recovery of all residents stricken by the altar's magic, increased reputation with Celphata, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth, increased reputation with the Craedia Princedom, increased reputation with Gilthor Province.
"What exactly am I supposed to do with the altar?"
"She will take care of that," Celphata motioned toward the necromancer's daughter. "The girl is ready to serve as her goddess' priestess."
I accepted the quest. Simply put, I couldn't afford to disregard such powerful allies. And besides, I didn't doubt her intentions since Celphata, unlike Vill, had no need for human sacrifices. Finally, having a priestess to a goddess in my clan would be legendary. As a rule, it was priests that typically became the gods' companions.
"Can you tell me about the Nameless?"
"Why do you want to know?" the goddess gave me an intent look, then sighed. "He found you, didn't he? The prophecy is coming true?"
Hart, but I was getting sick of all these riddles! Prophecies, some woman who's supposed to be mine, Cheney hiding in some rotten hole, Great Essences circling me like vultures, white dragons shackled in dark caverns on some Primordial Paths... If only I could take a break and lay low for a while on some farm while all this madness got sorted out. Alas, that wasn't an option—I had no choice but to continue this frantic race!
"Please understand me, Celphata, I really didn't want to draw all this attention. I've only heard of this prophecy recently—I don't even know what it says! And I can't even read it after your visit to the Xantarrian library."
"It wasn't I who took the prophecy from the library," the goddess fixed a stray lock of hair in an age-old womanly gesture. "But, as you can see, you cannot escape it."
"So what is the prophecy? And who is the Nameless?"
"A demiurge, one of the few capable of transforming reality. The Great White Dragon, one of the hypostases of the Great Void. Now I can see his mark on you."
"I wanted to know why he—"
"No!" the goddess' eyes flashed crimson. "Some things even gods mustn't know. The balance is too fragile, and I don't trust myself to not disturb it."
"But how am I supposed to live with all this if even you refuse to hear me out?!"
"You're insolent, demon," Celphata shook her head reprovingly. "But were you any other way, you wouldn't have done one tenth of what your destiny holds. Are you familiar with the parable about a pebble in millstones?"
"When a tiny pebble gets mixed into grain accidentally and ends up breaking massive millstones?"
"Precisely, Dark One, precisely! And you might just be that very pebble..." She sighed. "But no one knows for certain, not yet. As for the prophecy, look for answers in Cathella. Speaking of which, this filth right here," the goddess motioned at Nerghall's rotting bulk, "has a map on him—that will be your key to getting there. And now, Krian, I must say farewell. Try to avoid death, if you can help it..."
The goddess' parting words hung in the air as my surrounding reality came rushing in.
With a sigh, I turned around and took a seat on a nearby rock, watching my clanmates moving about the battlefield. I needed to analyze all that had happened to me in the past half hour. It appeared that somewhere on the Primordial Paths—whatever that was—guarded by a dark deity in a dark cavern, one of the game's governing AIs was being held captive, shackled to the ground. I had no way of knowing how many there were altogether, but this was clear evidence that RP-17 wasn't the only one. This particular AI had been used by Cheney and his crew to hide from RP-17 certain zones, one of which I myself had designed. If there was anything else in play, there was no way for a lowly artist like myself to know anything. For instance, how was the Nameless slipped into the game in the first place? Perhaps under the guise of a god-slayer. Celphata hadn't noticed his mark upon me until I brought it up. The gods didn't see him, but he saw them... In the absence of other information, let's accept that as the working version. That the dark gods were supplying Cheney with the White Dragon's blood to somehow hide all this monkey business from the top governing AI... It sounded like the ravings of a lunatic, but I had nothing else to go on.
Hart! It stinks here! I took a drag and exhaled, then fished around for my flask and took three big swigs. That helped a little. What else? Had the dark gods grown self-aware with the last patch, as a result of which some of them began pursuing their own goals? That seemed the most likely scenario, as evidenced by the Twice Cursed god's vault. Ingvar's female sidekick had told me once that the gods were struggling to find Vill's main citadel. This made sense—an AI grown self-aware was no dumber than a person, and would use all the weapons available to them to their full extent. What was it the dragon had said about the heavens weeping tears of blood? It sounded corny as hell, but then the prospect of Vill becoming the supreme deity in the Realm of Arkon was frightening indeed. And RP-17 seemed to not be intervening into any of this, but acting more like an observer. After all, if the game's basic rules were being adhered to, then everything was hunky-dory as far as he was concerned. Same if he wasn't aware that the rules were actually being broken.
It was starting to feel less than cozy. I shivered and took another swig from the flask lying on my knees. What about those Primordial Paths that were likewise hidden from the top governing AI? Could those be a new plane? Something akin to a test server, a place for the devs to try out innovations before implementing them in the game? Whatever they were, getting there was a problem for most—even gods were apparently barred from entry. I remembered the grotesque three-headed monster from the cavern, and shivered again.
The question was, did I personally care enough for all these goings-on to get even more involved? On the one hand, I was getting pretty sick and tired of it all; on the other, this world had become my home, and I didn't want it to plunge into Chaos! If I were to get mixed up in this story, all my escapades in Craedia would seem like child's play in a sandbox by comparison. It was only in cheesy adventure novels that the good guys came out on top in a fight against omnipotent villains. I'd already fought—and beat—my villain on the balcony of that hotel... My mind jumped to Jane, and I wondered if everything was all right with her. And then to Ivan and Sarah—I hoped those two were doing well. And what about Alyona? I'd found her last letter unsettling—in it my sister wrote that she, Max and some other characters took up an easy—in her words—quest chain in the vicinity of Ellorian, and would return to the city and wait for me there after completing it. But I knew my ginger-haired little sister too well to believe that story. A quest chain outside the dark elf capital should easily stretch into weeks. There was something that devil's child wasn't telling me! The one thing that gave me confidence was that Max was with her—that man was too levelheaded to let them get into any real trouble.
But I digress. The simple truth was that I couldn't avoid getting involved in all this world-saving business. Finding Cheney without the Nameless' help was out of the question—the AIs couldn't lie, at least before the latest patch they couldn't. Now this was interesting—any recollection involving the former board of directors' member seemed to unleash in me a storm of irrational fury. Were Cheney to materialize here next to me, I would take my sweet time cutting him up into a million little pieces, even though, in some twisted way, everything that
I had achieved, I owed to him. Was it an aspect of my current hypostasis, perhaps? Yeah, right! I scorned the thought. That scumbag deserved none of my gratitude; were it up to him I'd be getting torn apart in Lamorna in perpetuity. No, my decision was irreversible. I didn't know what form my vengeance would take, but I'd make damn sure that son of a bitch paid dearly for every one of my countless deaths. It was settled, then—I would try and rescue the White Dragon. As for the dark god guarding him... Well, there was another dark god lying not thirty yards away, dead as a dingbat. So, we'd cross that bridge in due time.
Gloom plopped down on the ground next to me. The boar looked at me sideways, roared something with a questioning tone, but seeing that his master was deep in thought, sniffed resentfully and closed his eyes. Moments later Tilly came running by, clearly on some errand. The girl braked sharply, gave me a wink, licked her lips, blushed, laughed and took off just as quickly. Hart! I'd promised to let her ride the boar, I watched the girl go. It didn't matter that I couldn't be with any of them—promises had to be kept just the same. The Nameless had mentioned something about a woman, though rather vaguely. Was I supposed to find her, or was she going to find me? I leaned over and scratched the dozing boar behind the ear. You and I are all alone, Gloom, buddy. You could use a female as well, but not every sow could handle a formidable specimen like yourself. The boar opened one eye, which stared at me dubiously. Seemingly reasoning that I had a treat for him, the sly beast leaped up to his feet, and nuzzled my shoulder. In your world, the answer to everything is more grub, I rummaged in my inventory and produced a yellow cucumber—the local equivalent of a potato—slipped it into the razorback's mouth, and burst out laughing. All in all, things were looking up! What was next on the list: Derelict Temple and Gilthor? Coming right up!
"Great darkness!" Vaessa lowered herself on the stone next to me. Frazzled and disheveled, she the had look of someone who had been clubbing all night long, and relying on more than just booze to keep her batteries charged. The necromancer's daughter snatched the flask off my knees unceremoniously, twisted off the lid, and proceeded to relieve the vessel of much of its contents.