by Arthur Stone
Game-related problems should be solved with game-related methods or through litigation in accordance with the current legislation.
See the corresponding chapter for specific details on court procedures pertaining to gaming projects.”
Project administration’s announcement on the game’s official site.
Chapter 34
Ros knocked on the gate. There was no reply, so he knocked again. Everything was silent. The fence was tall and tight as a palisade, without a single gap. You couldn’t see anything—the old man’s place was a veritable fortress. The house could be seen from afar, looking suspiciously impregnable and quite unlike the other dwellings with their open yards.
“Hey! Is there anyone alive in the fortress?!”
“Who’d come here looking for the living all of a sudden?” asked an unfriendly voice from behind the fence.
“I have brought you some wine from Uncle Skhor.”
The latched clinked, the wicket gate opened, and the little old man that Ros had intended to meet peeked out. It was hard to tell what his race was—he looked like a grey-skinned elf, but his ears were a lot longer (as though the elvish weren’t long enough already). A somewhat more humanlike copy of Master Yoda from Star Wars.
The old guy thrust his hand forward in a demanding gesture. His forearm was thin as a skeleton’s—bone and sinew wrapped in skin.
“Excuse me, my good sir, but who would I have the pleasure to be talking to?”
“I’m Starbonis. Who else did you expect to find here?”
“Here’s the wine, and there’s something I’d like to talk about.”
“Why would I want to talk to a cheeky green pipsqueak like you?”
“It’s about your past.”
“Is that right?!”
“Would you prefer to talk here for all the village to hear? I can see the old women across the road pricking up their ears.”
“They can burn, ears and all, those mangy sows. All right, get in—I can see it’s easier for me to talk to you than to shoo you away.”
Ros realized his Charisma didn’t affect this particular NPC, at least not visibly so. Then again, perhaps this cranky geezer wouldn’t have even opened his door to another player.
The house and the interior looked just like the palisade fence: simple and sturdy. Everything was also amazingly neat. Men often adopt a cavalier attitude to housekeeping, but here one would be hard-pressed to find so much as a handful of specks of dust, even with a magnifying glass.
“Sit,” the old man pointed to a massive stool. “Well, out with it—what exactly is wrong about my past?”
“Oh, it’s just that I’ve found out that the world-famous royal jeweler lives in a backwater village and not the capital. I believe you have your reasons. As for me, I would really like to learn the jeweler’s craft. Why don’t I help you solve your problems while you help me in return? How about it?”
“Thanks for making an old man laugh. I have no problems, kiddo—none at all, and it’s been that way for a long time. I like it here, and I have chosen this place to get some peace and quiet. Get it?”
Ros grimaced.
“Oh well, sorry for disturbing you, then. I’ll be on my way.”
“Sit, I haven’t dismissed you yet. I’ll tell you this: you have reminded me of the olden days, and the memories have set my soul on fire. Nowadays it’s just bees, and that can get tedious… But you know little of me. I am no simple jeweler—I also used to be known as one of the best gem-cutters. Gems were my life. And it is still one of my greatest regrets that I never mastered the art of enchantment. But then, why would I need it now? It’s so nice here… quiet… and I have my bees… You shouldn’t have brought up my past so frivolously…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, since you’re owning up to the error of your ways, it is on you to remedy the situation. Should you manage that, I’ll help you learn the skill, and I’ll even provide you with the tools you’ll need to get started.”
“How do I remedy it?”
“You’ll have to try hard. See this table here? I’d like to see—oh, let’s say a thousand gemstones glistening on it. Pile them on, I’ll admire them, and then I can get back to my bees. I don’t need the gems, you can keep them. But know that quartz alone won’t do the trick. I want twelve different kinds, and by tomorrow morning at the latest. They have to be of good quality, too—well, not all of them, perhaps. Get going now, find those gems, and don’t come back until you do.”
Ros couldn’t help flashing a very smug grin.
“What a fortunate day. I was lucky indeed to have paid you a visit.”
“You’ll be as lucky to see yourself out without me sending you on your way with a kick in the butt. I don’t like to wait.”
“Why would I have to go anywhere and search for anything? I have everything you’ve asked for right here.”
“Why, I’ve never seen a liar quite like you! How does your conscience permit you to lie with such an honest look in your eyes?”
“You’ll see for yourself in a moment.”
Ros got up, approached the table, took his miner’s bag out of his belt, and started emptying it slot by slot. Each could contain up to 250 gems. He had filled up fourteen slots completely, and even more partially mining the caves and the Chaos dungeon. He only hoped the table would endure, as well as the old man’s heart. The old-timer had a completely flabbergasted look on his face with his jaw nearly reaching the floor, and Ros was only just getting started.
In a few minutes, there was a pile of uncut gems on the table. Ros proclaimed proudly:
“Sixteen types. Mostly amethysts, citrines, and morions. Some varieties are represented very poorly, and I have but a single sapphire—its quality is not that good, either. However, there is hardly any of the quartz that you seem to detest so much.”
Starbonis got up, took a few steps towards the door, bolted it, and peered out of the window with an expression on his face that might suggest he had just stolen something of great value and was now afraid of being found out. He drew the curtains, took an oil lamp off the wall, lighting it in a strange way—with his fingers—and stood motionless in front of the table, watching the pile of gems glisten in the yellowish light.
“I saaaaaay… I didn’t think I’d ever see something like this again. That is no bag you have there, my dear lad—it’s nothing short of a royal treasury. That’s the only place I’ve seen something like this.”
Dear lad? That must be a good sign—the old man was already treating him like kin.
Ros coughed.
“So, what do you say? Have I fulfilled your wish?”
“My wish?” replied the old man pensively. “Not quite my wish, mind you. You have five thousand eight hundred and forty-two stones of varying quality, sixteen types all in all, whereas I told you to get me a thousand, and around twelve types.”
“Is it that bad that I have managed more?”
“Why would that be bad? It’s good. I could almost say it’s perfect. You have indeed pleased me, lad. You have pleased me well. So, what did you want in return? Oh yes, I remember… How about a cup of tea while I gather my wits about me?”
“Sure, I’d love one.”
“Gather your gemstones and get them out of sight, lest an evil eye sees them, and I’ll put the kettle on.”
It took him much longer to gather the gems than it did to spill them out, but the old man said nothing as he waited patiently for the gems to disappear inside the nondescript bag.
Ros asked him as he picked up the last of his gems:
“How did you manage to count all the gems? Even I had no idea how many there were exactly.”
“What else would you expect from a royal gem-cutter?”
“I have no idea—gem-cutting is a mystery to me.”
“Many things are a mystery to you, but luck seems to be on your side, since it has gifted you with such a fortune at such an auspicious moment. Some fools think a gem-cut
ter’s profession has got nothing to do with luck. They couldn’t be more wrong, although what would you expect from fools…”
“Mr. Starbonis, my luck is very strong, have no doubts about that.”
“I have noticed—I’m good at seeing the essence of things. I can also see that you have concealed your race.”
“Can many see that?”
“Among for the likes of you, the newcomer folk—I doubt it. But there are many of the olden folk who possess that skill.”
“That’s bad. I’m in hiding. From others like me.”
“None of our people should reveal anything if they aren’t questioned too hard. But you should keep yourself covered all the same, just in case.”
“Covered?”
“Learn the Veil of Mystery spell. No one needs it—I would wager that none of your people ever even tried learning it. You, on the other hand, should find it handy—not a single living soul will see your true race or anything else.”
“Thank you so much!”
“You are welcome. So, I promised you I would teach you the Jewelry skill and provide you with the tools to get you started. Now, I will not be keeping that particular promise. Oh, don’t you jump up like that! Oh, that hurt look on your face is precious. You misunderstand me, son. I’ll teach you Jewelry, as well as Gem-Cutting. They should never be separated—the two skills are like needle and thread. Gems should not be made separately from the item. You shall realize as much later. And do not repeat my mistake: master the skill of Enchanting, no matter what it takes. Then you shall have no rivals under the sun. I see that you have achieved a lot in different areas. You can do everything on your own. When you mine the gems and the ore yourself, and do your own smelting and cutting, and when you create an item yourself, using the gems you chose by yourself, their souls will merge in what you create—it will be a far cry from all those trinkets of dubious utility. You will also be more likely to create items of great power when you do everything with your own hands, without involving anyone else. Every item remembers how it was changed, and the person who changed it. Do your job diligently, and they will be grateful. Apart from that, gems with a good enchantment are very rare. You will be able to enhance your battle trophies, making them a lot more valuable, which is a sure way to become rich and famous. Although I suppose you don’t need fame, you have already become legendary… If you have enough time to master the Blacksmithing skill, you will also be able to make armor. Shoemaking and Tailoring are useful, too, but you can leave them for later, or delegate them to somebody else. It will take many years to learn everything you need.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“That’s what everybody says, but no one ever has enough time. So, I’m not giving you any tools because you won’t need them. Your Luck will serve you better than any tool.”
“How is that?”
“You have the power of magic, so you will use it to create jewelry and cut gems.”
“I don’t get it. How does it work?”
“Stop announcing your ignorance aloud! You shall understand everything once you learn what I have to teach you. I will bring you two books. You need to read them attentively—and quickly. You’ll read here. I don’t even allow myself to take them out of the house. There’s enough tea on the table—help yourself to as much as you can drink. It helps you think, especially if you brew it strong. So, read the books and meditate on them, and I’ll pay the bees a visit. I’m overexcited, and there’s nothing like bees to settle the nerves.”
* * *
The Secret Art of Freeing the Soul of Stone and The Magic of Jewelry were the titles of the books. They were very thick, much to Ros’ chagrin. But there was nothing to be done about it—he did say he wanted to learn the skills, after all.
He turned a page over, then another, and another. There were diagrams, various cuts, facet angles for different types of gems, and lots of other things.
The old man paid him a visit as he was halfway through the first book.
“Learning, eh? Well done, keep at it. There’s nothing to do out there—things look rather grim.”
“What happened?”
“There’s a bunch of people, all of them rather swarthy, running around in the street, some of them wearing nothing but their underwear, fancy that. And they keep screaming all sorts of obscenities, the likes of which even I have never heard. Our village drunkard is following them with his jaw down to his knees, hanging on to and trying to memorize their every word. He will find use for all of them, I’m sure.”
“What’s the matter with them?”
“Some foreign bandits have been getting to all sorts of mischief. A small group of them chose the edge of the woods as their playground, so these swarthy folks decided to gather a larger party to vanquish them, and set off toward the woods. But those bandits were sly. The small group was there to draw them in. Once they did, a large force of the bandits came out—enough to leave some of these folks wearing nothing but their pantaloons. All of them were slain in a matter of seconds. Now these swarthy fellows are saying they intend to gather an avenging army. Imagine that. I hope they leave the village alone—I’m too old to get mixed up in these things. And to think I’d intended to find a quiet place…”
Ros chuckled—his fellow countryfolk were wreaking havoc all over. A simple noob should not draw anyone’s attention, not with hundreds of low-level players gathered in the vicinity of the village who wouldn’t risk leaving this more or less safe haven. As per the forum, raids on unprotected communities had extremely negative effects on the players’ karma—in some cases, valuable stats like Luck became reduced irreversibly, so even the biggest psychos among the Russians were unlikely to show up here. Villages were nothing like walled towns—the penalties for attacking the latter were incomparably lighter, and if one fulfilled a number of conditions, one could avoid them altogether.
* * *
Ros dozed off a few times during the night, only to wake up and resume reading. The old man was unwavering about it—he had to learn everything in one go, without getting up. Ros didn’t object too much. Gems and jewelry were in constant demand according to the forum, and dozens of clans sought gem-cutters and jewelers in the Vacancies section, struggling to find applicants worthy of consideration. Leveling such skills was both lengthy and costly, so few attempted to invest serious time and effort into them.
Ros had to think about the future. Trophies were fine, but creative labor shouldn’t be scoffed at, either—especially the well-paid sort.
It was long past midday when Ros turned over the last page, sat there for a minute or two, shut the book, and stretched with gusto, like a cat after a long night’s sleep.
He heard the door open, as the breeze wafted in the smell of honey.
“How did it go, lad?”
“I have read the books. Both of them.”
“Thoroughly?”
“As thoroughly as I could.”
The old man approached, and looked down at Ros, who was sitting at the table. His expression changed from stern to contemplative. Eventually, he said:
“I can see that you are telling the truth.”
“You receive three auxiliary stats: Jewelry, Gem-Cutting, and Magical Transmogrifier. Due to the qualities of your character, all your auxiliary stats are raised to six automatically.”
“Happy, son?”
“You bet. But what about the third stat? Magical Transmogrification?”
“Haven’t I told you that you’d need no tools? You will use magic.”
“I see.”
“Your Crafting and Creation skills look good enough, you’re capable of seeing the Essence of Things even better, and you’re well-endowed with Reason. I won’t even mention your Luck—it treats you very favorably indeed. You possess many talents. Exercise them. Work on yourself and on your skills so that you might progress.”
“That’s what I’ve been dreaming of.”
“And so, your dream will come true.”
&n
bsp; “Could you please tell me whether the others will be able to see my special talents, the way you do, if I use the Veil of Mystery? If I join a party, for example?”
“They will only see whatever you decide to let them see.”
“Got it. So, I’ll be off, then? Or is there anything else?”
“Go. The village is quiet at last. The foreign bandits are gone—they’ve done as much damage as they’d wanted, and then departed whence they came. You can go wherever you want without any trouble. But be careful on the roads—we have enough footpads of our own.”
“Where would I get the Veil of Mystery?”
“That’s common knowledge—at the Mages’ Guild[MB2].”
“And where can I find the guild?”
“Oh, they have branches in virtually every town and city. It won’t be hard to find.”
“Thank you once again. I’m really in your debt.”
“You are welcome. One more thing: not a single word about me to any living soul. Don’t forget that I helped you.”
“Understood. I’ll be as silent as a tombstone.”
“Quite right. Remember that if anyone asks about me.”
And with that, the old man headed back toward the wicket gate.
Chapter 35
“You have crafted a cut amethyst of good quality. You have crafted a cut amethyst of good quality. You have crafted a cut amethyst of excellent quality. Attention! Not enough magic energy. You cannot craft this item.”
Out of mana. Again. Had he known what he’d get up to, he would have dumped all his undistributed points into Intellect and then settle down for about a week cutting gems.
Ros spent the rest of the day at the shopkeeper’s hayloft, only taking a break for supper and a quick wash. He’d managed to cut about two hundred gems, although about a quarter had disintegrated into useless sand in the process. The forum prices for good-quality gems were around three or four gold pieces, and a dozen or more for excellent ones. There were very few of the latter, but he should be able to sell the lot for a decent sum, given the sheer volume of his stock.