The Cursed Princedom (Realm of Arkon #2)

by G. Akella

  It followed that the event was designed exclusively for the demon race. Moreover, it shouldn't be triggered until the average level of players in the zone was high enough to take part in it. And since I was here alone, making the average player level 132, theoretically that should be enough to complete the quest for the key, as well as clear the princedom. A well-run ten thousand strong clan alliance of players in low 130s should dislodge a not-so-organized army of NPCs from the citadel. How many would there be? No more than a few thousand.

  I shook my head at the cleverness of it all. To link a hidden quest revolving around the events two hundred and eighty years in the past to a continental event, tying up all loose ends... Bravo! The demon clans would recapture the princedom, the other dominions wouldn't attack them on account of Ahriman's curse, and there would be a one-year immunity against any offensive from above.

  Over the following year of farming the "pocket" dungeons, the clan alliance in control of the princedom would match the level and influence of the players that would arrive from above. And a few years thereafter, Archmage Altus' quest would be triggered that would necessitate a recapture of the citadel. What a brilliant design on the part of the guys at corporate! Truly, there was a reason the Realm of Arkon was the number one game in the world.

  The only snag was, there was no clan alliance! Just a solitary dude riding into all kinds of trouble in the midst of two vampire squads and their patriarch. And the archmage's quest had been completed as well, and entirely by accident. If not for the latest patch, Altus would be waiting for his justice several more years. Oh well, the continental event would have to wait. The army of mages and knights had been sleeping for nearly three centuries now—they could sleep a few more years. Priority number one remained getting to the temple, and I'd play it by ear from there. Should I survive, it made sense to stick around the princedom for two months to take full advantage of the twenty percent boost to experience. I was confident that, somehow, I'd able to handle packs of ordinary level 150 mobs.

  Ah, but ignorance is bliss! The very first packs we encountered in the zone comprised no less than ten skeletons each. For the vampires, that mattered not one bit—the clan simply reshuffled their marching order. Whereas before they kept to groups of three, now they rode as five. The pace of our travel hadn't suffered at all.

  Chapter 8

  For our first day camp, the Asyrat clan picked a well-preserved marble crypt. I couldn't begin to guess why—marble could've been deemed luxury by the bloodsuckers for all I knew.

  Having released Lucy, I waded through the thorny undergrowth in the predawn darkness, then followed the vampires into the abandoned abode of death. Though the vampires had cleared the two packs closest to the crypt, I wasn't going to remain out here all by my lonesome.

  The stench inside was devastating. Guided by the light of a magic lantern carried by one of the vampires, I started my way down the slimy steps, but then the patriarch appeared before me, stopping me with a gesture.

  "Wait here. You shouldn't follow us further," his lifeless voice rustled. Then he turned and followed his people to the lower floors.

  Don't need to ask me twice, I thought with a shrug. From below there came sounds of bones hitting the floor—the vampires were clearing the space of its rightful tenants. The noise died down after a few minutes.

  Looking around the room, I saw a number of marble slabs that must have been used to hold up sarcophagi. Presently, there was nothing on those slabs besides mounds of whitish dust and stone nameplates untouched by time. The sight was a relieving one—I didn't need to worry about any nasty surprises crawling out of the coffins. Breaking into the closed crypt from above was equally unlikely.

  Trying to breathe with my mouth, I swiped the trash off one of the slabs. Then, leaning back against an old cracked wall, I set to contemplating my uneasy lot. Lately I'd been feeling like a calf, fumbling in the darkness while my fate was being decided by everyone else but me. For someone who was used to carving his own path, the feeling was unsettling, maddening even. The dominion's lord himself had warned me not to have any dealings with his wife, but did I listen? Of course not! Lords and princes were no authority for me! And look at me now—stuck in a bloody mausoleum with a bunch of bloodsuckers, wondering what was going to happen next.

  On the other hand, had I been given a viable alternative? Head to Iskhart? To do what? Surprise Ahriman and force him to give up the keys to his private library? The notion was too ludicrous to even be funny. Inform on Janam to Master Ritter? I didn't particularly care about their internal politics, but doing so would foil my only quest to get the first half of the key. Rescue the knights and mages of the Order of the Red Flame? Sure, it might have been possible, after leveling to 170 or so, to sneak to the sealed vault door in the citadel by using my invisibility potions. But then what? A dead end. Even assuming that the trapped troops were badass enough to take out the fortress' entire garrison, and that they would even be willing to fight. Even then, a century of level 300 NPCs didn't stand a chance against several thousand level 200 ones. Capturing a castle was far more complicated than a standard raid where you would clear the mobs out in order as you moved through the instance. The castle garrison followed an entirely different script. Besides, leveling to 170 would have taken forever! My sister wasn't the type to sit on her hands—the more time went by, the higher the chance she would get herself into some kind of trouble. The thought was too hard, too scary to even consider. As if there weren't enough sick bastards on the higher plane? That recording Ivan had shown me more than answered that question. No! I had done everything right. And if I was deluding myself saying that, time would tell soon enough.

  When the next night fell, our squad set out again. After rounding Castle Kjier, razed by Ahriman's army, we came out to the border of Xantarra roughly three hours before dawn. According to the searcher, this was where, two hundred and eighty years ago, the princedom's surviving demons had rebuffed Lord Erisjat's forces that had sold out to the Twice Cursed Gods.

  With Irstad behind us, I noticed that the road leading southwest had considerably fewer undead on it. Sometimes we would even come across perfectly ordinary animals. And yet, my spirits were low. The ambiance in all the zones we'd been traversing was downright rotten, as if designed to depress even the most upbeat traveler. Thoughts of doom and gloom descended whenever we passed by villages devoid of life, fields overgrown with shrubbery and weeds, lonely frames of once-functioning windmills, graveyards with swarms of undead behind crumbling fences. It all looked so wild, so unnatural in the moonlight caressing the rolling hills and gently sloping barrows.

  A champing sound distracted me from my contemplations, and the next moment I was tumbling to the ground. My feet flew out of the stirrups automatically; the moon flashed before my eyes once, then again, and I landed off to the side, squarely on my hip. I spent the next several seconds spitting up dust and trying to recover my bearings.

  Lucy had died instantly, her head pierced right through by an arrow. I leaped back to my feet, swearing profusely, whipped out my sword... and froze, struggling to believe what I was seeing. A bunch of soldiers in heavy black plate riding wild boars were mopping up my vampire retinue. Sprouting arrows like a porcupine, the patriarch, having had his invisibility broken and having turned into a fearsome abomination that only distantly resembled a giant bat with a dozen shadow-woven tentacles, was on the defensive against a mounted soldier swinging a massive two-hander as if it were a reed. Four others were attacking the patriarch from the sides, and, judging by the speed at which his health bar was shrinking, my quest for the first half of the key to the Celestial Seal was coming to an end in only several minutes.

  Join the fight? That would be idiotic! The attackers' levels were hidden, but after seeing them wipe out a whole squad of level 200 vampires, I probably wouldn't last more than a few seconds. The attackers' attitude toward me was unfriendly, and I'd rather not push it to hatred.

  I tried reading the co
mmander's name, but between the blazing trails of blades swooshing and X'Tahr's tentacles darting to and fro, it was downright impossible. Not a word was being uttered as the battle went on—all you heard was the clanging of metal and the sickening crunch of blades cleaving through flesh and bone. I stood there over my horse's corpse, observing the massacre, my thoughts grim. Too bad about Lucy. At least she won't lose any XP since we never got her any, I thought as I watched my hopes of getting the first half of the key getting irrevocably dashed.

  Change of terms for the quest: Fragment One of the Celestial Seal II.

  Quest type: epic, chain.

  Recover a truesilver jewelry case from the Derelict Temple, and hand it in to Master Vyardiz in Sarykas, the capital of Rualt Dominion.

  Reward: experience, information about the first fragment of the portal scroll leading to Karn; variable.

  Attention! To complete this quest you will need at least fifty allies.

  There was still hope! Only where was I going to find allies? And what did they mean by "variable"? And who the hell were these "benefactors"?! I looked up to see the leader of the vampire-extermination squad approaching. Leading his black-as-night razorback by the reins, he took care to walk around the vampire corpses littering the ground. I was finally able to read his name, and when the knight clapped one of his warriors on the shoulder and pulled off his helm, the name finally made sense. It was a woman! A sinister, deformed face; slanted bloodshot eyes; pointy elvish ears; ash-gray hair cascading over the shoulders. It was a face I remembered well from one of my visions. What was up with me and all these encounters with higher beings...

  "Who are you? What was your business with the Enemy?" her already terrifying eyes flashed with cold fury.

  "I'm merely trying to find a way back to the upper plane, Kirana. But thanks to you and your cohorts, my journey has just become a lot longer," I replied wearily, casting an irritated glance at my horse's corpse.

  "How do you know my name, two-lived? It's been so long, even I've forgotten the last time anyone called me by it," her face twisted in a scowl, anguish and doubt flickering in her eyes.

  "I know a great deal," with a sigh, I fished out the quest item from my bag. "I saw you battle Bagert. Here, I think this belongs to you."

  "How did you..." In an instant the goddess snatched the truesilver mirror from me, gripping it with both hands, and gazed into it.

  There was a blinding flash of light, followed by a peal of thunder as the earth moved under my feet. I felt a breath of forest freshness on my face, augmented by the scent of wild grass and ripe strawberries.

  "Really now..." I blurted out after my eyes adjusted to my new surroundings.

  In the morning dusk, the forest meadow looked like a magical slice of spring. The leafage of the surrounding trees had grown lush, and a thick coat of grass now carpeted most of the road like an inviting featherbed. The corpses of the vampires and their patriarch were gone. I stood there in a daze, following the flight of giant butterflies that seemed curiously out of place this early in the day. The silence was absolute. The heads of a dozen and a half dark elves were turned my way. Some had already removed their helms, their eyes brimming with nearly palpable joy. The legend above the goddess' head had changed, and so had her appearance. She now looked exactly the same as she had on that day long ago, leaning over the lifeless body of a heroic dwarf. The gleaming plate had been replaced by green ranger's garb. The goddess herself shrunk by at least two feet, with tiny sparks of light running the length of her waist-long, raven-black hair. Kirana was looking at me differently too—with a kind of avid curiosity, as if at an exotic and most peculiar creature.

  Attention! You have garnered the attention of a higher being. Kirana, the goddess of the dark elves, is friendly to you.

  Your reputation has increased. The dark elves relate to you with respect.

  "Where did you find my mirror, dreamer?" her voice was soft like the murmur of a forest creek.

  "Shaartakh," I forced out of myself, feeling like a character in an anime film from my childhood. "I looted it from his remains. You must have dropped it during your fight with Bagert."

  "The monster took a part of me along with the mirror," her green eyes flared for an instant.

  I knew then that had Shaartakh been found by this young woman with her jet-black hair and frail stature, especially when standing next to her boar, the elder demon's demise would have been far less pleasant. "How did you get here? Who are you? And why do you want to go back?"

  "If only I knew how I got here," I shrugged. "And I want to go back because I've got a sister up there—Tauriel, a dark elf like you. Don't ask how a human can have a dark elf for a sister, I wouldn't be able to explain anyway."

  "You're not human, but you were one once," Kirana frowned. "I see that you're telling the truth. And, to my sorrow, there is nothing I can do to help you," she said remorsefully, but then her gaze fell upon the horse carcass at my feet, which hadn't disappeared for some reason along with the vampires. "Did we kill your mount?"

  "Afraid so," I nodded. "But at least you didn't kill me—that would have been a lot worse."

  "Here, take this. He should help you on your journey, dreamer," the woman stepped up to me, and handed over the reins of her black boar.

  You've completed the quest: Isyliel's Mirror.

  You have gained a level! Current level: 133.

  You have 1 talent point to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

  You have 3 stat points to allocate.

  You received: Kirana's Razorback.

  .....................................................................

  You have gained a level!

  You have gained a level!

  You have gained a level! Current level: 145.

  You have 13 talent points to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

  You have 39 stat points to allocate.

  "Farewell, dreamer, and thank you..."

  "Kirana, wait! I... I realize that I may be asking a lot, but..."

  "What else do you want?" the goddess asked coolly.

  "Could I... send a message to my sister? She's—"

  "No," Kirana cut me short. "No, you cannot. Farewell..." I thought I picked up notes of sadness in the goddess' voice. The woman spun on her heels and started toward her troops. "Let's go!" she shouted, and in the blink of an eye the entire squad vanished into thin air...

  The day was breaking over the Cursed Princedom, as the first rays of sunlight touched the treetops, percolating through the crowns, splattering the ground and branches. I was alone again. Oh, the solitude...

  "Do you at least eat fruit?" I took an apple out of my inventory and offered it to the black beast.

  The animal bored me with his yellow eyes for a while, but then, with a loud sigh, leaned forward and accepted the treat. "You're a big boy!" I patted his rough, sable-black side. The boar's withers were at my eye level. Directly underneath was the huge muzzle covered with old scars, and two pairs of tusks protruding upward like broad twelve-inch knives. He smelled of pine, must and rotting leaves—a less-than-pleasant cocktail of aromas, to be sure, but the stench would have been downright unbearable were this happening in real life.

  "What do I call you?" I scratched my head. "Piglet seems... unbecoming. Porky? Nah. You need an ominous name... I've got it! I'll call you Gloom! Yes, the name suits you."

  Gloom

  Razorback. Transport.

  Epic. Level 145.

  No minimum level. Riding skill.

  Attack: 2736-3582. Cooldown: 2 seconds.

  Armor: 3625.

  All resistances: 75%.

  Strength: 725.

  Stamina: 725 (regenerates 100/hour).

  Constitution: 4350 (43,500 HP).

  Walk: 1-2 mph (does not consume stamina).

  Trot: 6-9 mph (consumes 1 stamina per minute).

  Gallop: 18-24 mph (consumes 20 stamina pe
r minute).

  Special abilities:

  Fortification 0/3,

  Charge 0/3,

  Frenzy 0/3,

  Attention! XP distribution is 50%/50%.

  You have 2 ability points to allocate (1 point = 50 animal's levels).

  Fortification 0/3.

  Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  Increases the rider's armor class by 20% and maximum resistances by 5% for 2 minutes.

  Charge 0/3.

  Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  The razorback accelerates up to 35 mph for 5 seconds, dealing 5 times more damage to the target.

  Frenzy 0/3.

  Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  The razorback attacks with double the speed, also hitting enemies near the target for 85% damage. Duration: 30 seconds.

  "Good lord!" I literally jumped for joy. This piggy turned out to be a better present than a Ferrari. "Gloom, buddy," I scratched the razorback's behind the ear as he chewed. "Your hide may be black, but you're worth your weight in gold!" 43,500 HP was badass! Battle mounts had to have plenty of hit points, otherwise they were useless. All things considered, my new razorback should outclass almost any lizard or warhorse. Though his damage output was somewhat lacking—almost certainly less than a lizard's—the boar was more of a tank than a dps. I wasn't crazy about the prospect of splitting XP with my mount down the middle, but our leveling speed should more than make up for that handicap.

  Now, what about your abilities? I climbed up on the razorback and activated Fortification. The armor class indeed jumped by 20% to 3325, but the impact on damage absorption was less impressive: from 73.4% to 82.3%. Diminishing returns, baby—the higher the armor class to begin with, the lower the absorption coefficient for any further increases. Fine, Charge it is.