Reputational item
Gives you the following bonuses when in your inventory:
+8 friendship with the Rattermark inquisition
+5% protection from fire
+4% protection from water
+1% damage from piercing and cutting weapons
Minimum level for use: 40
Cannot be stolen, lost, broken, or gifted
It was yet another reputational item for my collection of inquisitor attire: I already had the beads, and their amulet was in my bag somewhere, too. I should put them all up on the auction and see if someone wants them. The beads were good to have, and so they were fine rattling around in my bag, but I didn’t need the cloak or amulet. Although… Waiting was a good option, too—there was a chance I’d pick up one more item, and selling a three-piece lot would have brought in some more dough.
Then, I pulled out the parchment I’d gotten once I’d collected all the facts and eyewitness statements I was supposed to get.
You unlocked Commonality.
This is the third in the Knight Hunter series.
Task: Figure out what is common to all the murders of the Tearful Goddess Order knights happening at different times and places around Rattermark.
Reward:
1000 experience
300 gold
The next quest in the series
I looked at the map. Great, what could they have in common? There was one thing: they were all dead. Then, I rubbed my chin, deciding to forget the jokes. Seriously, what could it be?
Life is easy when you’re the main character in a movie or TV show. You just look at the map and exclaim your findings to the world.
“Wait, it’s a pentagram! This is Satan’s work!”
There are lots of ways it can play out.
“The locations of the murders point to Grill House-Will-Saint-Clair.
And that’s it. You jump into a cab, nail the killer to the wall with ironclad logic, and finish him off with an irrefutable argument.
In my case, I was left to scan the parchment with no clue of what the answer could be. The locations were all different, first of all: three were near cities, two were in wooded areas. The number of knights killed each time was different, as well—happily, that information was recorded on the map. Could finding out what the knights were doing in each place clear things up? I realized I’d need Gunther for that since there was no way I could get that kind of information on my own.
Just then, the door to the office opened, and two people walked out. The first was the Gray Witch, and she was with a short gentleman—a player, and definitely a serious one. He looked to be an officer in the Road to Greatness clan (the name was above his head), as his armor was impressive. The fact that he was at Level 112 spoke volumes, as well. I hadn’t heard of the clan, though.
“My dear Tran, I’m glad we were able to come to an understanding,” the Witch said courteously. She held a hand out to the warrior, and he kissed it.
“Rocking the boat isn’t in either of our interests,” Tran replied. “It was lovely to see you.”
They paid each other a few more compliments, and then the veteran grabbed Flavius and walked off down the corridor on his way, presumably, to the exit.
“Well, here we finally are,” the Gray Witch said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. “You forget your friends completely. Where were you?”
“Just lots going on,” I said, throwing my arms in the air. “Here and there, you know how it is.”
“You can tell me about what you have going on.” The Witch walked back into her office and gestured for me to follow suit. “First, however, give me some kind of believable lie about how you were able to be online without anyone finding you.”
“Do I have to?”
“No,” she replied as she sat down. I looked at the wall where she’d had the pennants with the friendly and hostile clan crests. It didn’t look like she’d added many of the former, while there were many more of the latter.
“In that case, I’ll take a pass.” It was a bit rude, but telling her the truth… No, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Then, forget it.” The Witch took a drink from a cup on the table. “I’ll find out one way or another. Instead, tell me how you somehow managed to become the leader of an NPC clan.”
There was nothing confidential about that, so I gave her the story.
When I was done, she rubbed her hands. “Very interesting. So, a social quest…”
“…with a lethal ending,” I said darkly. “We have a big battle coming up.”
“And all you have backing you are a bunch of pensioners, some kids, Glen’s clan, a contender for the throne with, happily, a good sword, and a few other motley crews. It’s like a gypsy caravan.”
“Miurat was anxious to help,” I added. “Though, he changed his mind suddenly. I mean, obviously, Miurat himself didn’t change his mind, though the result is the same.”
“Interesting,” the Witch said with a flesh-eating smile. “I know he was looking for you.”
“And didn’t find me,” I giggled.
“That he didn’t. And then, he changed his mind. Interesting.”
“He probably found out that Glen joined my side. Could that be it? Everyone knows how loyal he is to the Hounds of Death.”
The Witch drummed her fingers on the table. “It’s possible, though it could be something else, too. When’s the battle going to be?”
“By the end of this week, most likely.” I scratched the back of my head. “No point putting it off. Could you help with something, maybe?”
“A kind word and some good advice,” the Gray Witch smiled. “Sorry, no people. Clan policy is to only ally with equal clans—in the top hundred, at least. You’re down there at the bottom of the list, so all I can do is cheer you on from the sidelines. I may be our leader, but decisions about alliances are made collectively.”
So, that was that. We were friends to the grave but only paid for in cash. That’s a bummer. Anyway, that wasn’t the main reason for my visit. I’d let her know that I was around again, and it was time for me to show a little loyalty, too. Wars aren’t the only way you build relationships.
“If I were here to ask for people, I would have asked for them,” I said. “I’m here to tell you that my clan will always be happy to be friends with yours, even if there’s nothing official.”
“I appreciate that. Jump into the top two hundred, and I’ll push making that official.”
“We’ll do our best. At least, as long as we survive.”
The Gray Witch smiled thinly as if to express her confidence that we would.
After exchanging a few more phrases, I decided that my mission there was complete.
“Okay, I’m going to head out,” I said to the Witch. “Lots to do, and it’s getting late.”
“Yes, it is. You’re making progress, my friend—in the past, you would have been sure to ask me something about whether we’re preparing for war.”
“Why ruin the mood?” I asked with a touch of swagger. “I can tell what you’re doing, and not just by how the fortress looks.”
“Yes, it’s in the air,” the Gray Witch laughed. “This is probably going to be the largest war in the history of the game. Nobody’s sitting it out, at least, nobody except the lone wolf players, who don’t care about stuff like this, and the smallest clans. They may not even be aware of what’s going on. Lucky them.”
“Is it going to happen soon?” If the primary source didn’t know, nobody did.
“In its time,” she replied seriously. “Like always, it’ll be sudden, and because of something little. Big clan wars always grow out of nothing, do they not?”
I said nothing, realizing that the woman in front of me was as excited about the upcoming war as a kid looking at a plate of strawberries.
“What about Miurat?” the Gray Witch asked suddenly. “Does he stop by your clan a lot?”
“You’re telling me,” I replied, happy we’d
moved on from that tricky topic. “Like it’s his job.”
“Does he know about your problems?”
I looked down. “He does. We were blabbing about them, he overheard us, and that’s why he offered us help.”
“That was careless of you.”
I sighed, letting her know that I was in full agreement, and got up to go.
“Hold on a second,” she said before ringing her bell. Flavius peeked in and looked at her inquisitively.
“Ask Fiosi to come here.”
“Oh, come on,” I cut in, realizing that she wanted to give me something new to wear. “Again? I feel like some poor relative.”
I needed to put up something of a fight, if only for show.
“That’s true,” the Gray Witch replied. “You aren’t a noob anymore, and you can take care of yourself. That’s fair. Flavius, forget about Fiosi.”
That’s what I get for showing off. Maybe, I should have given her something first. I made a mental note not to return to her fortress empty-handed.
“Thank you,” I said, standing back up. “It’s always nice to be out and about but, you know, home, sweet home, and all. By the way, it would be great to see you there. I can’t promise that it’ll be as nice as it is here, but we’ll have some good flatbread and haggis for you. Haggis is—”
“I know what it is,” the Witch smiled. “I’ll be sure to drop by very soon. Thanks for not forgetting about me.”
***
As I walked down the passages and then pulled out a portal scroll, I tried to figure out why I felt like I’d just been played like a fiddle. Everything had gone the way I’d wanted it to. Something was wrong, though.
The first person I saw back in the village was Lane. He was sitting on the bench next to Krolina and looking up at the sky, and his face was drawn and tired, but satisfied.
I ran over. “Where have you been? I just about lost my mind.”
“Oh, that happened a long time ago,” he replied calmly. “Right around the time you decided to get involved with me. Nobody in their right mind would have done that.”
“Regardless, explain yourself. I have a right to know.”
“Of course, you do,” Krolina said conciliatorily. “Just calm down.”
“He went to see the baron,” Lennox said, walking over with a jar of sour cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. “You should have seen old Fergus’ face when we walked in… He’d just gotten back from the party, and there was Bailiff Lossarnakh in the flesh. It was a blast!”
He dipped the spoon into the sour cream, purring like a cat.
“Excuse me,” Tren-Bren said as she flew over and hovered over Lane. “Is it true that you’re a king? Everyone says you are, but I wasn’t sure how to ask.”
“I’m not a king yet, young lady,” Lane replied. “And I don’t know if I ever will be one, though I doubt it.”
“Because you don’t want to be king?” Tren-Bren’s tongue was practically hanging out, she was so intrigued.
“Because I’ll get killed before that happens. Me, and your father, too, since he got himself involved in this. I don’t feel bad about myself, though I do feel bad about him. We’re old friends.”
“Oh, old Hagen is your dad,” Lennox said, glancing at the fairy. “And here I was thinking about how you’re both a little crazy. Hagen, what kind of woman did you make her with?”
“A vila. They’re flying creatures that live in bogs,” I replied, stunned by the conversation I was having. “So, what about the baron?”
“He said the MacSommers will only join my side once I prove that I’m worthy,” Lane said, looking back up at the sky. “They won’t get in the way of any other clans who want to join me in the fight against the MacPratts, though.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “In other words, we’re in deep…well…”
“Uncle Fergus basically gave all the small clans his blessing to help Lossarnakh,” Lennox explained. “He won’t fight, though he’s on the side of the bailiff, and the MacPratts probably know that. It’s politics.”
Why does it have to be so complicated?
“In the next few days, I’m going to visit all the clans that have been loyal to my family and the MacSommers,” Lane told me. “Laird, I’m going to need portal scrolls—there isn’t time to walk the whole way. On Friday morning, right when the chill breaks, we’re going to fight the MacPratts in Tuad Valley, twelve kilometers from here.”
“We are?” I could barely keep my mouth from falling open.
“I sent them a notice an hour ago,” Lane said offhandedly.
“Thanks for letting me know,” I sarcastically replied.
He stretched, and I heard something crack. “Don’t be angry—you wouldn’t have written it any better. I’m hoping for at least five clans on our side. We aren’t guaranteed victory, but there’s always a chance.”
“From your lips…” I muttered. “So, why did you decide that you’re going to visit the clans by yourself? Shouldn’t I come with you?”
“That wouldn’t do any good,” Lane said. “MacSommers and I will unite them ourselves. I hope you understand, this is for me to do.”
“I had to offer,” I replied without taking the least offense. “You know these people better than I do.”
“Okay, boys, I’m off to bed,” Krolina said, worried about a conflict and deciding to change the subject. Or maybe, she’s just trying to get out of here. “A little more, and my head is going to explode. You go to bed, too, kid.”
Tren-Bren stuck her tongue out at Kro and melted into the air. Oddly enough, Kro was the only one she didn’t argue with. If I’d told her the same thing, she wouldn’t have dreamed of following my instructions.
“Wow, magic,” Lennox said, sour cream all over his beard. “It is getting late, though.”
Soon enough, Lane and I were the only two left.
“So, you decided you want to become king?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “Can’t fight fate.”
You completed a quest: Aiming for the Crown.
Reward:
1000 experience
600 gold
It was a day for completing quests, apparently.
You unlocked Might Makes Right.
This is the fifth in the Zone of Influence series of quests.
Task: Prove to the clans in the Borderlands that the contender for the crown is worthy of it.
Reward:
3000 experience
800 gold
The next quest in the series
Oh, we’ll prove it to them. Probably…
I handed Lane just about all of my scrolls, leaving just one for myself, and asked him a question.
“Why did you take a cloak with my clan colors?”
“I’m fighting under your banner,” Lane replied, a bit surprised. “I still have to return my colors.”
“That makes sense. And hey, what time exactly are we going to start cutting each other’s throats?”
“Nine o’clock.” Lane stretched. “We always start things like that at nine in the morning during the fall and winter, since that’s when the sun comes up. It’s at seven during the spring and summer. Tradition, you know?”
“If the fairy asks you that question, tell her it’s at eleven.”
“You mean, your daughter?”
“The very one.” She didn’t need to see what was going to happen—having that knight killed in front of her was bad enough. And if things went bad, I didn’t want her dying there with the rest of us for some reason.
“That’s a good decision, brother,” Lane replied with a sad smile. “It’s no place for a child.”
He walked off toward the house, leaving me to call after him before logging out of the game.
“That’s exactly what I think, too.”
***
Vika was asleep, it was quiet at home, and I decided to climb on in with her. I didn’t even have my last cigarette before falling asleep. Sunday was looking to be
noisy and intense, and I wasn’t sure which looming event was worse—the battle in Tuad Valley or what would happen when I told Vika who she was going to be at the Raidion ball…
Chapter Five
In which we find that life can sometimes surprise even the most jaded.
“Just don’t hit me, okay?” I said to Vika, who had just walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head.
“I can’t promise anything…” Suspicion crept into her voice.
“So, it’s about the ball, the New Year’s ball at Raidion,” I continued, getting up from the chair in front of my monitor, stepping around her, and ending up by the door, just in case. “The one next Saturday.”
“And?” Vika hiked her robe up, clearly getting ready to chase me down if I decided to make a run for it. Although, where am I going to run to in a two-bedroom apartment? The only option was out the window.
“Well, I had a good idea for what we could go as. You remember how it’s a masquerade, right?”
“I remember. And I gather you’ve thought up something extraordinary?”
“Well, I mean, my imagination is only so-so,” I replied. A little humility goes a long way with women. “But I was thinking about it, I checked in with Ilya about my idea, and he gave me the green light. He’s even going to join us, though the only way any of it will happen is if you’re in. You’re the key to the whole thing.”
A little blatant flattery is also key for women. Let the woman know that everything falls apart without her, give her a small hand in determining the outcome, and everything will be great.
“A-and?” She didn’t sound too much better, though the this is ridiculous overtones were leaving her voice.
I laid out my plan, underlining the fact that she would definitely be unique in the costume I had in mind.
“Just think—all the women there will be wearing silk, and they’ll all have veiled hats and fishnet stockings. Charleston, the Roaring Twenties, and all of that. There you’ll be, in a leather jacket and boots, plus, with your waistline… You’ll knock them off their feet! If you want, we’ll find you extensions, so you’ll have a braid down to your belt.”
The Crown and the Key Page 7