The Cursed Princedom (Realm of Arkon #2)

by G. Akella

  You vanish from view and teleport to a set point within a 25 yard radius. Stepping through darkness removes all stun and movement-impairing effects.

  Awesome! A talent point saved was always welcome, and the timing couldn't be better, since I'd planned on improving precisely Step through Darkness upon leveling.

  "Thank you, Kert," I smiled at the tifling. "I should go. Still need to see the lord's wife before the day is done."

  "You still haven't given her the letter?" the tifling frowned.

  "When could I? I just got back from Urcahnta two days ago."

  "Hmm. You see, that letter... I can't tell you too much, but you should really be careful."

  "Something about the rebellion?" I shrugged. "My job is to deliver the envelope, that's all. You don't shoot the messenger." I shook the tifling's hand goodbye and headed for the exit.

  Attention! You have once more garnered the attention of a higher being. The Goddess of Justice Setara is friendly to you.

  The duration of Setara's Shield has been increased from 10 to 20 seconds.

  The unexpected message was the proverbial cherry on top, boosting my already raised spirits. Oh, Setara, how we miss you back there, under the real sun, I thought with a measure of sadness, walking in the direction of the palace complex.

  The foyer was draped with silk, patterns of red and yellow flowers intertwining in the most intricate variations. Lounging on a small leather sofa with curved metallic feet, I gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror while waiting for Lady Janam to grant me audience. I'd been led here by one of the gray tunics, and subsequently handed off to a level 120 long-nosed dandy who reeked of either perfume or incense. The fellow then demanded in a near-falsetto to hand over the letter to him, and, upon being rebuffed, bid me to sit here and wait. That damned parrot probably didn't even tell the lord's wife about a courier waiting here for her, I sat there, stewing as I examined my not-at-all-human-anymore eyes. At least I'd managed to drop by Raey's father and hand in that quest, cause it seemed I'd be waiting here forever. Plus thirty to all resistances—that was no joke. Now all of my resistances were maxed out, with the sole exception of nature at fifty percent. Thankfully, I had yet to run into a druid in this plane, so I didn't sweat it.

  My patience had run out after two hours of waiting. I got up, turned the curved copper handle, and stepped into a giant reception room with velvet-draped walls. Just as I'd thought, the parrot that had met me at the door was lounging by a large arched window, having a leisurely chat with one of the maids.

  "Where do you think you're going?" two level 200 legionnaires crossed their pikes before me, while their captain got up and started my way from across the room.

  "Personal delivery for Lady Janam!" I shot back, quick on my feet. Why the hell had I been waiting for two hours? Ooh, I wouldn't mind running into that big-nosed douchebag in a dark alley!

  The other thing I saw was that the lord's second wife was a level 380 highborn succubus, and had truly earned her title "the Beautiful." Her long, sapphire-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a perfectly oval face with deep almond eyes and picture-perfect scarlet lips. Wearing a flowing beige gown and elegant light-colored heels, she looked no older than twenty five.

  "Let him through," she said in a low, throaty voice, putting aside some book. She rose from her reading sofa in a fluid motion, and floated over to me. "Let me see," she stretched out her graceful, well-groomed hand.

  I nodded, admitting to myself that her delicate woman's hand could, at a whim, wring my neck as if I were a helpless baby chick. I handed over the scroll with the red seal. Upon seeing the seal, she raised those huge eyes at me and asked, her tone cautious.

  "Where's Ilsheet? Why did the prince send you? Who are you?"

  "Nobody sent me," I said, trying not to stare at the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. "I found the remains of a courier who had been carrying this letter, and decided to deliver it myself." Her eyes transformed just then, and I felt a slight headache, followed by a wave of fatigue... Which was immediately supplanted by righteous fury. Barbie is trying to dig inside my head! A strange feeling reflected in Janam's eyes as she recoiled, then knitted her brows. I suppressed the rage boiling up inside me by sheer force of will, and tried to lend my mug all the innocence I could muster.

  "What are you doing in our lands, light one? Who sent you?"

  With a sigh, I proceeded to tell her the standard account of my appearance, just as I'd done to dar Annat upon my arrival to Nittal. In the end, Janam's agitation visibly subsided; she unrolled the scroll, and an attendant came up to me and counted off my reward of five gold coins.

  You've completed the quest: Special Delivery.

  "My lady, I also need to inform you that your life is in danger," I said, hoping to tick off my other quest sooner rather than later.

  As I spoke, I marveled at the stoicism displayed by the legionnaires. Even with my mental resistance it was a constant struggle to be near such a powerful succubus. Or was it the consequence of prolonged abstinence?

  "What kind of danger?" the young woman raised her eyes at me.

  My oh my, that smell! I vowed to myself to go see Dara right after this, feeling like a spunk-filed fifteen-year-old boy who'd stumbled upon a nude beach and was seeing the female form for the first time in his life. I recounted in details everything I'd overheard while inside the old archive building.

  "And what were you doing in the archives in the first place?"

  "I need to get back... up there. And I have cause to believe that the path back lies through the Cursed Princedom of Krajde. I was looking for a map of it in the library."

  "Does anyone else know of this danger to me?"

  "No. I thought it was best you be the first to know."

  "Good," Janam wiggled her delicate jewel-encrusted tail. Hesitation flickered in her eyes, quickly followed by resolution. Having reached some kind of a decision, she nodded to me. "Thank you for warning me of danger." Then she turned back to her guards and, with metal in her tone, commanded: "Arrest him!"

  You've completed the quest: Damsel in Distress.

  The captain of the guard, clearly a hardened army man, wasted no time hitting me with a five-minute-long Hunter's Mark, blocking my only escape route. Without it I might have still been able to Step through Darkness behind the wall and pop an invisibility potion. My chances were still low—all the guards here were sixty-seventy levels above me, rendering my invisibility all but useless. In short, I considered and dismissed the option of escaping within the span of a second. Besides, why would I run? I had done absolutely nothing wrong, and risking twenty percent of my heard-earned levels was out of the question. Janam raised her thin brow, seemingly expecting me to try and pull something, but I kept my cool. After holding her stare for several seconds, I shrugged and, with a chuckle, shifted my eyes appraisingly to her chest. I wanted to get a rise out of her.

  "You've got some nerve, light one," she shook her head as her guards escorted me toward the exit. "Take some time to think while I consider what to do with you."

  Assholes, I spat on the floor when the heavy metal door rattled shut behind me, then looked around. The room I'd been confined to was small, no more than a hundred square feet in all, with a plank bed on the floor and bare brick walls. What is her game? Why make this spectacle? I asked myself yet again, then shrugged and took a seat on the crude wooden bed. I was unbound, nothing had been confiscated from me, though, in theory at least, that shouldn't be possible in the game anyway. I might even be able to escape at any time now that Hunter's Mark had worn off. The prison's magic blocked any portal-related spells, but my Step through Darkness was something else entirely.

  Naturally, I didn't argue or kick up an indignant fuss over my detention—I had too much pride. So I just sat there, wondering what it all might mean, and what that skanky succubus was up to...

  No doubt, Janam was somehow mixed up with that Zeran character and his acco
mplice—my assuring her that nobody else knew of the death threats had obviously been the reason for my confinement. But I still couldn't wrap my head around needing to arrest me. If they wanted me dead, I'd already be waiting to resurrect at my bind spot. And no way a succubus of her level was doing anything without a plan. Women who climbed this high in life just didn't make rash, haphazard decisions. All those trash novels about princesses running away with their lowborn boyfriends were nothing more than the authors' childish fantasies. Yes, I was inclined to rule out the possibility that Janam was some irascible fool who didn't appreciate me staring at her tits. Better to wait and see how this thing would play out—I could still try the escape option if things went south. Resolved not to dwell on the situation any longer, I opened the menu and threw three stat points into constitution, and my only talent point into Jump. No reason to flash my Step through Darkness just yet—let this unique talent be an ace up my sleeve.

  You've learned the spell: Jump II.

  Instant cast.

  Mana cost: 75 points.

  Cooldown: 25 seconds.

  You teleport to a set point within a 25 yard radius. Requires line of sight. The jump removes all stun and movement-impairing effects.

  Desperate for a distraction, I opened the map of Krajde and began studying it. The distance between the border with Jarus Province and the citadel I needed spanned roughly one hundred and fifty miles to the south as the crow flies, though that route would require traversing fifteen high-level zones, namely 150s through 200s. Along the way I'd need to skirt Castle Kjier, razed by Ahriman's troops, and Suonu, the town destroyed by Erisjat. And what's waiting for me at the actual citadel? I sighed and leaned back against the stone wall. It was only in cartoons that a hero could find some grand abandoned castle and claim it for himself. None of that was going to fly here. In a game where castles and lands could be stormed, raided and captured, any such structure simply had to have a garrison. And considering that Castle Krajde stood at a junction of four level 200 zones, and that the citadel was the foremost bastion in the princedom, which would be the equivalent of at least a county in Karn, the citadel had to hold no fewer than five hundred level 200-250 NPCs. I just hoped a good portion of them were demons with whom I could hopefully find a common language and persuade them to let me evacuate a hundred enemy knights and mages. But what if they were undead or other hostiles? Hart! Why did everything have to be so complicated!

  For a game, the Realm of Arkon had a sophisticated and unique demesne system. A baron commanded a militia roughly two hundred strong, and had about a thousand subjects. Every sentient character under his protection and governance yielded a small amount of experience, which the baron could keep for himself or share with his vassals. A count, in turn, received a certain amount of experience from his vassal barons, and shared it with his prince, who, in turn, kicked back some of his XP to the king. The system was brilliant in its simplicity. Every ruler had streams of XP coming up from below. Plus, as far as I remembered, subjects of a successful ruler received more experience, so everyone was happy.

  The point being, I couldn't simply show up and capture the baron's castle. Firstly, I'd need to deal with a two-to-three-hundred-strong militia, with soldier levels 150 and higher! And even if I somehow succeeded, how would the count react? Considering the fact that counts had several thousand troops that were both higher in level and better equipped than the militias of lower-classed barons. Any captured castle would likely be attacked in the span of days by all the sentients in the vicinity unhappy with such a turn of events, followed shortly after by heavy cavalry.

  Imagine that your clan gathers the resources and resolve to capture and maintain control of a particular barony. You invade its territory, lay siege to the castle, kill the baron and take out his militia. That sets off the timer. A few hours to a few days later (the system generates the exact time), all the discontented residents of the barony pull up to the castle, their numbers usually in the thousands. And though they're not as well-armed as the militia destroyed by your clan, at least half of these resistance fighters tend to be hunters, and together they can prove quite the nuisance for the conquerors.

  But let's say, with a little luck you manage to weather the storm and suppress the insurgency. You're about to throw a grand victory party when suddenly you find several thousand knights clad in plate and mithril outside the castle, brought there by the local count who's displeased with your actions. And considering the fact that in the four years since the game's release no player had surpassed level 234, whereas the count commanded several thousand knights in that level range, the outcome of such a scenario was, shall we say, very predictable.

  Granted, there was a time when the game's elite clans might have been able to tackle such a challenge, but the changes made by RP-17 in the latest patch had postponed this possibility indefinitely. Besides, generally speaking, there weren't too many people eager to take on the authorities for fear of landing on the kingdom's watch list. For those hapless bastards, they would either have to pay off the right people or lay low in the boondocks somewhere, as the road to the central provinces would be all but closed for them. All of the above was true of humans, though I suspected the situation was similar with the other races.

  In order to capture even the weakest, most backwater barony, you would first need to secure the support of the local population and the higher authorities, and only then attack the desired castle.

  To be sure, in the four years since the game's release plenty of castles had been captured, but the goal had nearly always been either to pillage or destroy. As for assaults with the intent to keep, there had been only several successful attempts, and in each case the preparations had lasted for more than a year. Even the most numerous and powerful clans avoided messing with the local authorities, but preferred to take the legal route by buying up bordering land, which, thankfully, was in large supply. I could only guess as to the expenses of purchasing and developing those territories. Indeed, there was a reason in-game gold cost the same as its real-world counterpart.

  The walls in the cell were warm, and eventually I began to doze off. Hope I won't get any bed bugs... I gave the wooden cot a dubious look, but quickly dismissed my worries and stretched out on it. Oh, Altus, I promised you to make everyone here my bitch, I thought as I succumbed to asleep. Why must I always be such a loudmouth...

  Several hours later, in one of the palace rooms...

  "Prince Elyid's secret envoy was killed three hours ago. Thus, both Kyaris and Altenna will come out for us," Master Ritter took a sip of water from his glass, then put it back on the coffee table. "Vallan is in for a surprise. It's a pity Zeran had to flee," sighed the prince. "He made such an effective pawn."

  "You're in too deep, Diam. All these games of yours had nearly resulted in a problem for me, namely several thousand irbis," frowned a tall, fair-haired tifling. "Are you losing your edge?"

  "We were trying to lay low," shrugged the master of searchers. "Who could predict that that enamored fool would turn up in Nittal and allow himself to get nabbed by Zeran like a total amateur?"

  "What about his accomplice—have you identified him?" the lord shot a skeptical look at the water-filled glass cupped by his old friend, frowned, reached for a crystal carafe on the coffee table, and filled his own glass with dark wine.

  "That's much more complicated. We don't even have his name," the prince shook his head. "All we know is that he'd arrived from Rualt, and that he's vanished along with Zeran after Holgrim's son's rescue."

  "And I assume that you didn't search for your deputy to keep Vallan in the dark about the fact that his agent has been under your heel this whole time," the lord grinned, then upended the contents of his glass. "Don't give me that look! This is good wine, and it's too late to teach me etiquette," he grunted in response to the reproach in the master's eyes.

  "What would be the point in nabbing him? He's probably all the way in Zorn by now, and highly unlikely to do any real harm. I
'm worried about something else..."

  "Janam?" Astarot frowned. "I think she's long figured out that you know about her schemes with Zeran, that scumbag." The lord rose from his seat, walked over to the burning fireplace in contemplation, and gave a subtle motion of the hand. "Is she still writing letters to her cousin?"

  "Yes, though she knows full well that her attendant notifies me of their contents," Ritter nodded. "I'm racking my brain but still can't figure out her end game. I thought she was on our side, but turns out she knew about the imprisoned son of the Snow Leopards' elder, and was against his murder. Unfortunately, I had only just now found out about it." The master turned his eyes to the fireplace—following the lord's hand movement, the blaze had transformed into a trio of twisting salamanders that collectively bore a striking resemblance to the present object of conversation. "Her correspondence with Ar-Iraz is innocuous, and I cannot forbid her from communicating with her cousin," Ritter sighed. "But my gut is screaming that something is amiss. One might theorize that she's trying to charm the prince, but it's really a stretch. First of all, I doubt it's even possible; second, I can't see anything she might gain from it..."

  "She's a tough broad to crack, no doubt," Astarot rubbed his massive chin. "If not for her and her brother's rights, they'd have been strung up next to Ziad a long time ago," he uttered softly, clasping his hands behind him while observing the fantastical dance in the fireplace with a dour expression. "You were saying that the southern province is teeming with Rualt agents?"

  "Aye," the master fell back in his chair, looking off to the side meditatively. "If I hadn't held the Ryeed peace treaty in my own hands, I would be sure Rualt was planning an invasion. But violating the treaty is out of the question! Even if Lord Yllial were to get away with it by some miracle, Ar-Iraz would defend the border to the last drop of blood. Rualt is the worst option for him by far. He would sooner come out for Vallan in the upcoming battle."