by Pavel Kornev
Isabella waved my protest away, her eyes firmly fixed on the vampire’s pale face.
The Count seemed to have been taken aback by her sudden proposal just as much as I had been. Still, he quickly got a hold of himself. “How interesting.”
“What the hell?” I growled, theatrically this time.
Isabella’s idea seemed to be a perfect way out of this stalemate. Not only did it allow us to half the reward on my head but it could also earn us twenty thousand gold. And I had no intention of sharing it with anyone.
“Fifty percent between three people isn’t a lot,” the Count finally managed.
“There’re also three of us,” Isabella reminded him. “Not counting the guards.”
The Count winced. After a pause, he nodded and proffered her his hand. “Deal!”
He and the priestess shook on it.
“Don't you need to ask my consent?” I snapped.
Isabella heaved a sigh. “Why, are you so against it?”
“No, but-”
“Excellent,” she said nonchalantly. “Very well. Time is an issue, gentlemen. As a friend of mine likes to say, time is money.”
2
THEY DECIDED to kill me in Purple Hills, a large settlement on the road leading from the Tower of Darkness to the Southern Port. Apart from other considerations, Isabella had thought it prudent to throw other bounty hunters off our track. I didn't object.
The priestess opened a direct portal just for the three of us while the vampires had to use their own means of transport. We had to wait for them in a small park next to the stagecoach station. I had my white monastic robes ready without actually putting them on.
“You sure they’re gonna share?” I asked Isabella, casting wary looks around. “What if they rip us off?”
She shook her head. “They won’t. This is an official deal. Our fifty percent will be automatically transferred to my account.”
“And you’ll forward it on to me,” I said pointedly.
“I will.”
“And what about my cut?” Goar reminded us.
Isabella curved a surprised eyebrow. “Are you really gonna claim a reward for your employer's murder? You can’t be serious!”
He frowned. “Had it not been for me, they would have made mincemeat of you!”
I chuckled. “And without us, you would have never laid your hands on that sword,” I pointed at a stage coach drawn by eight horses. “There they are.”
The orc let out a noisy sigh but refrained from further financial aspirations.
“Don’t worry, goofy, “ Isabella said placatingly. “We can be grateful. You’ll get your chance to become stinking rich. Kitten, don’t forget: we’ll meet up by the local Tower of Power.”
“I’ll be there.”
I donned my white cloak of the Order of the Silver Phoenix and replaced my new mask with the old black-and green one, then hurried toward the station.
We had to make it appear perfectly accidental. Just a chance meeting, no more. All would go well provided we didn’t come across any of the locals.
I stepped into a narrow street leading away from the park and cast a wary glance around before hurrying past the rows of shuttered houses. The sound of a bell reached me from the station. Immediately a rider on a black stallion appeared from around the bend, followed by a huge dog, its eyes aglow with ghostly flames.
The dark knight studied my disguise and even reined in his horse but didn’t reach for his lance and finally rode past.
I cussed and hurried on. Soon I came across three vagabonds in dusty clothes and wide-brimmed hats. I had to step back to the wall in order to let them pass. They didn’t even look at me. But the moment they passed my back...
Watchful Stare!
I received the skill’s warning a split second before the attack. Although it left me plenty of time to dodge it and draw the flamberge, I ignored it. The outcome had already been predetermined, so what was the point revealing my strong sides to the enemy?
The scimitar sliced sideways through my chainmail. I felt weak. The world around me accelerated to the point where I couldn’t keep up with it.
Freeze: 30%.
The vampire’s magic had slowed me down. Still, I had no intention of playing their game. I doubled up and swung round as I yanked the two-handed sword from behind my back. The Count’s second scimitar clanged, deflected by my wrought-iron pauldron.
The midget went for my legs, receiving my steel-clad knee in his face for his trouble. His teeth went flying.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I attacked the third vampire with my Rapid Strike. The blade of my flamberge thrust forward with a speed my enemy couldn’t have ever anticipated.
One. Two. Three.
He tried to parry the blow with his rapier but lingered just a moment too long. My sword’s blade sliced through his arm; my next lunge easily pierced his light chainmail. I pulled the sword out of his ripped-open belly and pointed it down, chopping through his knee. My well-aimed blow sliced his meniscus in two.
Still, instead of dropping to the ground, the vampire hopped on one leg as he attacked me with his broadsword. I’d barely managed to parry its serrated blade with the flamberge’s guard.
The next moment the Count was already upon me, swinging his scimitars. It felt like standing in the path of an airplane propeller. He sliced through my chainmail as if it were paper.
My health already in the red, I backed off along the wall. The midget, however, jumped on my legs, clutching them and forcing me onto my back. I didn’t even try to get up from the pavement; instead, I gave him a solid whack across the back with my flamberge. The midget shuddered but didn’t slacken his grip. I turned the sword in my hand, trying to get to the Count...
A flash.
Darkness.
DIRT. GRASS. BUSHES. An overcast sky.
I was back.
I tore the sods of turf apart and climbed out of the shallow grave. I put the magic skull back into my bag and slumped onto the ground. Immediately my ears began to ring with the memory of my agony which receded as soon as I tried to turn my head on its side.
Never mind. It’s only a game. Besides, I’d already resurrected, hadn’t I?
I had indeed. Still, the longer I stayed in the world of the Towers of Power, the clearer and more tangible it became. One day I might believe that it was real. Then my death would become real, too.
And that would be the end of me.
I shrugged the cold off and scrambled to my feet. I had to check my gear. My leather helmet seemed to be the only thing missing. The rest was all there. Not bad. The main thing was, my white cloak had survived. I might have a use for it later.
I picked up the flamberge from the ground, balanced it on my shoulder and headed for the Tower of Power looming over the city roofs, dark and threatening. One look at it made the already miserable day even more somber and foreboding. Or was it just a bad premonition?
I heard the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones and dove into the bushes to avoid a cavalcade of players galloping along. The hunting dogs which dashed after the horses began barking at me but they didn’t go into the park and continued to follow their masters.
I cussed, still tense, and forced myself to slacken my white-knuckled grip on the sword.
What the hell? Did that mean that my Dog Slayer achievement, on top of the damage and crit bonuses, also gave me the desire to make mincemeat out of every pooch I came across? That really was the last straw! The game was slowly going to my head. And it really didn’t please me — if anything, it scared me a lot. Once I was brought out of my coma, the physical rehabilitation might be the least of my problems. I’d better start thinking about how to keep my brains in gear.
I shrugged and peeked out of the bushes. All clear.
I scrambled to my feet and hurried away from the park. I didn’t meet many of the locals on my way, and all of them were busy doing their own thing. No one seemed to be too worried about the recent fight. The
number of guards in the streets stayed the same — and as for the players, I met none at all other than the earlier cavalcade.
I walked past a small street market with a few customers ambling up and down its stalls and found myself on the town square. There, the Tower of Power which previously hadn’t seemed too high from behind all the houses, took on a whole new height, losing its spire in the clouds. It gave me goosebumps.
And not only goosebumps. A fiery whirlwind enveloped me, lifting me off the ground and throwing me into the air, then hurling me back down and rolling me along the pavement.
Dammit!
Fury of a Goddess: defense failed!
Perception penalty: 75%.
Agility penalty: 25%.
My white cloak burst into flames as if it was soaked in kerosene. The mask caught fire too. My whole world turned into a big white blob. I couldn’t see anything. I sort of somersaulted over one shoulder, dodging the attack, jumped back to my feet and blindly slashed away with my flamberge, keeping it parallel with the ground.
Got you!
Isabella was about to deal me a coup de grace when she ran onto my sword. Her breastplate couldn’t withstand the blow from its undulated blade
With a scream, she hit me over the head with the skull topping her priestly staff. Her movement was so lightning-fast I simply hadn’t noticed it.
I saw stars. The priestess hurried to step back, increasing the distance between us and leaving a bloody trail on the cobblestones. I’d finally got her!
The fire enveloping me continued to deal damage. I raised the flamberge above my head and went for her — but Isabella dodged my blow with a surprising ease and hurled a fireball at me.
The explosion stunned me. Immediately I received another blow with the skull. But this time, even though I’d missed it, I’d managed to grab at her staff with my right hand while hitting her in the face with the hilt in my left.
Isabella staggered. I grabbed at her, allowing the burning flames to spread to her priestly robes. No way. I burned away much faster than she did.
Which was exactly what we’d counted on.
3
GOAR AND I WERE OBLIGED to return to the capital on our own as Isabella had to shake off the guards chasing her. In any case, the vicinity of the Tower of Darkness wasn’t the best place for a player sporting a PK mark. The logout time wasn’t included in the penalty’s duration which was why even in the best-case scenario Isabella couldn’t make it back to the inn before tomorrow. Having said that, the future reward for my murder more than paid for all the possible inconveniences.
Twenty grand for a stage fight divided by two is still a lot of money.
Really, had players lost XP in the case of death, I’d have thought twice whether or not it was worth it. But the way it was now — why not? Apart from the fact that I’d earned a nice grand total of thirty thousand gold, the reward on my head had accordingly been slashed to a quarter. That was bound to put a lid on all the hoo-hah, forcing the professional bounty hunters to lessen their zeal.
MY WHITE MONASTIC ROBES had been burned to a crisp, so I was forced to put on my rogue’s duds. Even though my black-and green mask had survived, I discarded it without hesitation and put on my new mithril one instead. After my fight with the vampires, it now sported three long furrows, adding the word «Scratched” to its original description. Still, it didn’t seem to have affected its stats.
“Hurry up,” Goar said when I finally found him in the park. “My game time is nearly up.”
“OK, let’s go,” I said.
An unfolding portal ripped through the air. I stepped into its square mouth.
Bang!
There we were back in the inn’s dining hall.
The orc rushed upstairs, armor clattering.
Neo ran toward me. “Uncle John! Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m so bored!”
I tousled his hair. “Next time,” I promised.
“Honest?”
“Honest,” I lied. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“Then go to your room, then.”
“And you?” he asked, smelling a rat.
“I’m coming in a moment. I just need to speak to Uncle Mark.”
The boy nodded and obediently headed for the stairs. Scarecrow stopped glaring at me with his cloudy dead eyes and, in one powerful wingbeat, sprang from the cupboard onto the boy’s shoulder. Neo staggered, his shoulders lopsided under the phoenix’s weight.
Seeing me coming, Mark put a bottle of whisky on the table.
I shook my head and said, pointing behind my back, “Have you already cleaned the place up?”
He grinned. “As you can see.”
They’d already replaced all the broken furniture, given the floor a lick of paint and covered the burn marks on the walls with some drapes. You wouldn’t have believed that only a few hours ago, the places had been such a shambles.
Mark downed a shot of whiskey. “How’s things?”
I sighed. “Okay, I suppose.”
Suddenly I sensed somebody’s presence. The bone hook’s handle jumped into my hand as if of its own accord.
Still, it turned out to be a false alarm. The shadows thickened, disgorging the Count. The aura of the PK mark still hovered clearly around him, even if dull and fading already.
”Gentlemen!” the vampire flashed us a pearly smile as he lobbed a heavy money purse onto the bar. “My humble contribution to the repair works.”
Mark dragged it toward him, looked inside and visibly relaxed. You could see that he was happy with the compensation.
“Problem solved?” the Count asked.
“It is,” Mark said. “Still, you’d better go now. Nothing personal. It’s just that if one of my guests comes down and sees a PK here, I’m afraid we’ll have to renovate the place again.”
The vampire grinned. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” he leaned forward over the bar. “Nobody likes an assassin. We need a place to sit it out. You think you could rent us out your basement?”
“The basement’s already taken,” he snapped. Then he paused, thinking. “How about in the attic?”
“Is it dark there?”
The innkeeper took a long key off a bunch and chucked it to the vampire. “Go and take a look.”
The Count hurried toward the stairs. The shadows in the dark corner stirred, following him like two ghostly wisps of smoke.
“Aren’t you afraid of giving shelter to vampires?” I asked. “Won’t you have problems if they’re discovered?”
Mark shrugged. “Attics! If you leave them unattended long enough, all sorts of things breed in them,” he grinned and began polishing beer mugs with a towel.
Suddenly I realized that the Count had said nothing about the reward on my head. I jumped off my stool and followed the vampires.
The attic was submerged in gloom. Still it can’t have been enough for the vampires. The Count’s sidekicks were now busy stopping up the cracks in the shutters with rags. The room was rapidly becoming pitch black.
The Count chuckled. “Isn’t it too dark for you, John?”
“Not really,” I said, removing my mask. “It’s okay.”
Now that they weren’t afraid of meeting other guests anymore, the vampires stopped pretending to be human. In fact, there was very little humanity left in their appearances now. They looked more like the walking dead with their pallid faces, bloodless lips and taut skin pulled over their skulls. Basically, that’s what they were: just another version of the undead.
At level 77, he Count was the most advanced amongst them. The lanky Marquis was twenty levels below him and the little Baron, all of twenty-five.
“I like it here!” the vampire leader announced. “I think we’re gonna stay here for a while!” he looked at me and added with a smile, “You can’t even imagine how difficult it is to find a sympathetic landlord.”
“Yes, I can,” I said with a crooked smile. “Is it very difficult t
o play as a vampire?”
His eyes flickered blue in the dark. He perched himself onto a dusty chest and yawned. “Nothing is easy in this game until you get yourself properly leveled,” he finally said. “Why, you wanna become one? If you’re level fifty, I could convert you, I suppose. But you’ll have to start playing from scratch. You won’t be able to preserve any of your old abilities.”
I snickered. “Are there many players who agree to be converted?”
The Count smiled. “Not really. Only the most stubborn ones.”
The Marquis walked over to us. He threw his rapier and broadsword onto a painter’s scaffold and added, “And then you spend the next twenty-five levels hiding away from the sun. It burns you even through your clothes.”
“And until you reach level fifty, your magic won’t work during daytime.”
The Baron laughed. “Shit! I haven’t even started living yet!”
I could clearly see the blue notches of magic tattoos glowing on his skin in the dark. From time to time, he scratched them as if they physically inconvenienced him.
“Okay, John,” the Count slapped his bony hand on a nearby vat. “Did you want something from me? If it’s about you wishing to convert, you need to do a three-month quest first. In any case, we don’t need a newb. And you won’t be able to survive on your own.”
I shook an impatient head. “No, it’s not about that. What about the reward? Have you received it?”
“Forty grand, every penny of it!” the midget grinned, poking a wooden partition with his dagger.
“We’ve already transferred twenty grand to your girlfriend,” the Count said. “Anything else?”
I could see his patience with me was wearing thin. Still, I decided to use the occasion and discover everything that was still unclear to me. “How did you find me?”
The Count shrugged. “We followed you.”
His answer surprised me so much I even left the safety of the wall. “Why the hell? You couldn’t have possibly known there’d be a reward on my head!”
For a moment, the Baron stopped poking the wall and snickered. “We just needed a Light Disciple!”