The Way of the Clan 3 (World of Valdira)

by Dem Mikhaylov

  -- Uh… it’s… -- I hardly uttered, having realized exactly where the aging wizard had taken me.

  -- The Guild Storage room! – Said the archmage shortly, but with gusto— behind these doors is a great collection of relics, scrolls, a variety of artifacts, sacred knowledge, and more…

  I barely contained my shrill imploring: “But can I see?! Can I?!” but I refrained with incredible effort and kept silent. My old torn jacket stirred and, after a moment, emerged a moist back nose. Tyrant carefully sniffed the air and sniffed with disdain, and soon disappeared again into the nest of my jacket.

  -- Your little animal… -- the elder pronounced, without looking back— The first time I’ve seen such a cub… a wolf cub?

  -- Hm… -- I thought.

  I did not want to lie, by any means. To tell the truth… also not too desireable. Keeping silent all the more implausible. This is not an ordinary “local.” And not a farmer.

  -- A cub— I said slowly, staring at the back of the mage, who stood frozen. – Black and white. My pet. Named Tyrant.

  -- Not an ordinary beast— quietly replied the archmage— I don’t know all of it, but the beast is not an ordinary one. And you’ve picked the right name. Well!

  -- Well— I agreed, relieved. Didn’t lie and didn’t tell the truth. Passed right by on the edge.

  The archmage raised his hands— with a beautiful, sharp and stately movement. Melodious and totally unfamiliar words flowed from his mouth. A few moments passed and, behind me, there was the click of a latch unlocking, and then the rattle of numerous bolt and chains.

  Turning around, I saw the glaring copper door slowly rising into the ceiling, revealing a dark passageway.

  -- Copper storage— the old mage informed me, dropping his hands— Come on!

  -- Coming!— I barely had a chance to say, hardly holding the leash on my raging emotions. A little more, and the rope would break. Then I would overtake the elder walking in front of me and rush to the opened door of the Copper Repository. No! To the treasures of Ali Baba!

  Still, I managed to restrain myself. On slightly trembling feet, I slowly went through the shimmering door and stepped through the threshold. Swallowing hard, I slowly looked around and exhaled with some disappointment. Why with disappointment? Because I did not see anything. Rather, the vault was jam packed with a variety of gizmos, but all the good stuff was hidden in numerous chests, crates, boxes, and jars.

  Turning to me, the archmage motioned around the room with a single sweeping gesture of the hand, and commanded:

  -- Choose!

  -- Sorry? – I bleated, flustered, looking around.

  -- Choose— repeated Tarnius— One object. Just touch any one chest, jug, or crate and it will be yours. This is your reward for battling the werewolf Grim.

  Additional award!

  Wait a second… this was not mentioned in the task description. True— there was not a lot that was not mentioned…

  -- Anything? – I croaked— So an object or the chest? Or, so to say, one object from the chest?

  -- The chest is the object!— the archmage muttered, slightly annoyed, and crossed his arms over his chest— Choose, touch it and all the contents of the chest will be yours. Whatever is inside. But choose blindly!

  So… you cannot look inside… I hate that! Select the box, and inside will be some dried fruit or rotting root. Maybe rare, perhaps expensive, but valuable only to advanced alchemists.

  As for the chests… the biggest one I saw there was a real hulk. The cargo container, hewn out of solid oak planks. Taller than me, and if to estimate it’s capacity— an elephant would not fit, but a horse could go in easily.

  -- Choose! – the archmage repeated, seeing that I was not budging due to obvious shock.

  Easy for him to say! That old bastard! How does one choose here?

  You take one, and then reproach yourself all your life for not having chosen another chest.

  But how to choose then? By size? By the exterior decoration? According to the number of massive padlocks on the exterior?

  The little hamster in me could not take it, and now lay at my feet, writhing in conclusions. I imagined my greed as it died, embodied in that little hamster… and then I’d become a disinterested hermit, despising worldly wealth… damn you! Where have I been taken to?

  No! I can’t choose myself! Because it wasn’t an accident that Snessa relayed to me the words about the brass in the hand… In her words, there was not even the slightest hint of a possibility of choosing.

  Mentally kicking the hamster as he continued to squeal I straightened up and looked the mage in the eye, and clearly said:

  -- I refuse to choose, dear Tarnius.

  -- Refuse?

  -- The choice— I clarified— But not the additional reward.

  -- If you are not refusing the reward— choose— the mage tried again, but I saw in his eyes a growing helplessness.

  -- No— I said firmly— Choose it yourself. What you will give, I will accept, with great gratitude.

  With a heavy sigh— that is no exaggeration— the archmage nodded shortly— Have it your way!

  After a few steps, he stopped at a pile of faceless boxes made of light wood. He bent down and rummaged among them and emerged with a small box. He blew away the dust and returned to the entrance and solemnly handed me the box.

  “I was stupid and missed my cha…” – the words flashed through my mind, while my hands automatically accepted the gift, and my body bent into a low bow.

  -- Follow me –commanded the archmage, leaving the Bronze Vault.

  -- What’s in here though? – I cried plaintively, clutching the box— What’s inside?

  -- Hand of War— answered the mage.

  -- What?!

  He turned abruptly and looked at me, and a smile played on his lips:

  -- A gauntlet of silver plated steel for the left hand… part of the Silver Legend. Some of the lost armor of Grim of the Silver Hammer. Lay there for many, many years… and now belongs to you.

  -- Ohhhh…-- I managed a strangled cry, and slowly sunk to the stone floor— It’s… it’s…

  -- Hmmph! – the elder laughed again and, judgmentally looking at the state I was in from the shock of it, muttered— Until next time, stranger! Fly!

  -- Huh?

  Instead of an answer, the archmage took my hand and blinding snow-white light enveloped me.

  Flash.

  A colorful rainbow of transition.

  The light scattered, and I appeared in the center of a busy city street. Under my bum— a neat stone bench. Ahead of me— the open doors of one of the city’s many hotels.

  I did not have to think for a long time.

  I jumped up and nearly dove into the safety of the hotel. Running into a thief was the last thing I needed. Such a rare object, though, was likely impossible to steal. But after all, it’s inside a rather plain container.

  -- Good day, sir— smiled a girl with a luxurious mop of blond hair and a stunning figure— Welcome.

  -- Uhuh— I nodded, rushing past her— Good…

  -- Hold on, sir! – cried the offended girl, pressing her hands to her chest— here are you going?

  Damn it all! When will the temptations end?

  Three sweeping steps and I was at my door, leading to the private rooms. Another second and I was inside.

  The door closed with a bang, and I leaned against the exposed brick wall and slowly slid down, not taking my eyes off of of the small box I had pressed to my chest.

  Hand of War.

  Inside the box was another part of the armor of the Silver Legends…

  My trembling fingers timidly reached to the lid of the box. A light touch and, with a soft creaking, the lid came open as though it were on springs.

  Looking inside, I felt my lips sprawl into a broad and triumphant grin…

  -- Well, hello… my precious…

  Inside, to my untrailed eye— a gauntlet, like the ones seen in the mov
ies about the middle ages. A soft silvery glow of metal, with no inclusion of foreign materials at all. Rather short, too… barely covering up my wrist. The look of it, though, is irrelevant. But the properties… let’s see…

  Holding my breath, I looked into the object.

  Type: Equipment

  Title: Hand of War

  Description: Gauntlet for the left hand, part of the Legend of Grim and the Silver Hammer.

  Object Class: Legendary!

  Durability: Impossible to destroy! In addition: Impossible to steal!

  Attention! An object from a legendary set!

  Total numbers in set: 14.

  Limitations of effects in proportion to character level: None.

  Optional: the effects of this armor will increase in proportion to character level.

  Current effects:

  + * Strength?

  +* Agility?

  +* Protection

  Ability: x 3 protecting against physical damage when combined with the Soul of the Red Wolf.

  Amount of Equipped Items in the set of the Silver Hammer Armour: 1/14

  Additional bonuses from equipped objects: None.

  Mamma mia…

  Tearing myself away from the silver glove, I threw back my head and stared at the badly whitewashed ceiling.

  Today was a day full of surprises— there was no other way to say it.

  What I expected and then some— to get some useful information about Grim the Werewolf. Instead, I received another item from the legendary set of the Silver Legend.

  But what about that strange bonus, triple protection when connected with the soul of the Red Wolf?

  If you think about it…

  The silver bracelet I received from Grim for the right arm was called the Soul of the Red Wolf. And if I equipped the bracelet with the gauntlet, they would be united into one whole… probably. Although I don’t have the left bracelet, and so trying this wouldn’t work.

  Carefully lowering the wooden casket onto the floor, I reached for the bag, simultaneously looking around and wincing. The private room looked like the dwelling place of an alcoholic, in which security services had pulled an all-out search party and thrown all the suspicious items into a pile. Weapons, armor, cloth, colorful bottles for alchemy, bundles of herbs and roots, twisted scrolls… well… if you judge by real-life standards, my apartment looked like a drug-dealer’s headquarters. Yep… with a passion for medieval murder weapons.

  I could maybe really use a couple of tables, a spacious closet—

  No, thanks! It starts small, but will end up in wandering around town looking for a cherry wood writing desk, with gold plated handles, and plenty of drawers for writing paper…

  I ordered everything by degree of relevance and utility, throwing the trash and setting the rest neatly on the floor. And this is how we’re gonna do it! And nothing else necessary!

  I caught sight of a small object and, stooping down, picked up a graceful statue. A black and white statue of a snarling wolf. Huge, extremely toothy jaws, powerful legs, a shabby coat and fiercely glowing eyes of tiny rubies.

  And the accompanying description:

  Tyrant!

  Type: Collector’s Item

  Description: A small statue of bone inlaid with precious stones.

  Object class: Unique!

  Status: Souvenir.

  Durability: Impossible to destroy! In addition: Impossible to steal!

  Attention! The object is a part of the set of “Sixteen Great Beasts of Valdira.”

  Number of collected items: 1/16

  So, that’s how you’ll turn out, huh? I asked the cub, nesting in my abdomen.

  My jacket stirred and something in it flashed and disappeared.

  -- Maybe you’re gonna start to move around yourself soon, huh Tyrant? – I asked, hopefully— Cause I’m starting to feel like a character from the movie Alien! Just waiting for something horrible and terrifying to crawl out of my stomach!

  The answer was a muffled snort. Apparently, he had heard his own name— but he did not intend to respond to my hassling.

  -- Hm! I’ve got to buy you a collar stitched with some protective spells… -- remembered I— whateer I have money for— looking at the statuette of the wolf for a moment, I considered— I’ll sell it. Put it up for auction this very day. Let’s see how much I can get.

  Tyrant again said nothing, and I continued to talk to myself:

  -- Yeah, the statue’s beautiful of course. It’s a pity to sell it. But you and I desperately need the money. So no offense, wolfy. Got it?

  And again, a response of silence.

  -- Silence is a sign of agreement— I said thoughtfully, taking off the gauntlet and getting to my feet. – Well! Let’s get down to business.

  “Cleaning” the private room took no more than thirty minutes. I lined several multicolored bottles for alchemy along the wall, most of them filled with a viscous red liquid. In one corner, I carefully placed the gauntlet and glove of the Silver Legends set. I sorted quickly through some weapons and armor, took off my torn jacket and draped on a white linen coat with red accents and silver-plated buttons. It would give me a bonus of intelligence and mana. A good jacket for all mages of the thirtieth level, but I had already outgrown it. The pants remained unchanged but there were elegant shoes on my feet, the same white coat on my shoulders with an endurance bonus. On my head was something resembling a pirate’s hat.

  As usual, the sleeping cub snoozed at my chest and I sincerely hoped that he would not try chewing my new clothes. I didn’t want to walk around Algora like a bum.

  Ramming some of the remaining clothing and armour into my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and left the room. I itched to wear some of the armor from the Silver Legends set, but that was for later— as soon as I was finished with my plans in the city. Then I would play to my heart’s content, and enjoy my new bonuses.

  I slipped past the girls behind the front desk of the hotel, who were looking at me hungrily, as fast as possible, and fell sideways out into the brightly lit street.

  If only to get rid of that love aura as fast as possible. And all of the hassle that it brings.

  It was a rather short way to the central square, and so I decided to walk. This turned out to have been my biggest mistake. To be precise— I made the mistake at that moment, when I did not pay attention to the shimmering signs in the air— huge and colorful— taking them to be regular adverts of the local shops. As it turned out later— I should have read them.

  I calmly walked a few busy intersections and the streets opened out to the Golden Alley— one of the central streets in Algora, framed with orderly rows of trees and bright yellow foliage. I walked another few hundred steps and became immersed in the crowd. The number of those gathered here must have exceeded a few hundred, and the whole throng of people seethed and swayed from side to side. Those who were not lucky enough to be in the first rows were jumping up and down trying to see something and, now and then, cried out in disappointment.

  -- Well?

  -- Has she appeared?! Is she out yet?

  -- Where is she?!

  -- Stop pushing it! Where are you going?!

  -- My purse! My purse was stolen! Guards!

  -- Ha! You should call the angels too! You can’t get through here! Forget about your purse! Fool…

  -- So what’s happening then? Has she appeared or not?

  I wasn’t sure what the players were expecting, but instead of “her” several guards on horses appeared, accompanied by two magnificent mages.

  The magician dressed in an emerald gown raised his hands, made a few soft gestures and smiled with satisfaction through his beard. The air sparked and before I could blink, the crowd blocking the streets was divided into two halves. I had not felt even the slightest push. Divine magic.

  Unwittingly, I found myself in the front row, immediately pushed up to an invisible barrier that did not allow me to reach into the center alley.

  -- Fuck!
– I gasped, pissed off, having understood that I could not move. The crowd had pressed me into the magic barrier, and I could hardly move my arms. And I couldn’t even dream of making a step in any direction. Good thing that I had time to move my elbows in front of me, or the dozing Tyrant would not have fared well.

  If this had happened in real life, I surely would have been trampled by now.

  -- Damn, have we gotten in for it or what!— said a player next to me, with some effort— Though, it’s worth it of course!

  -- What’s happening though? Who is everyone waiting for?!

  -- You don’t know?! – he was amazed— Lizanna the Ravishing!

  -- Who!?

  -- Lizanna… what, you don’t even know her name? Have you tried to turn on the telly? It’s the new TV star! Super-popular! First in all the ratings and charts!

  -- What luck! What luck! – someone squeaked hotly at my neck— I’m gonna see her!

  -- Who are you? – I croaked, unsuccessfully trying to turn my head.

  -- Chloe Tierra! – Squeaked the response— Thirtieth level mage!

  -- Congratulations – said I, with no particular friendliness.

  -- No need to say! I’m gonna see her! With my own eyes! And just yesterday I got her last film, uncut and uncensored!

  -- Really… -- exclaimed the other player with disbelief— really…

  -- Exactly! Tropical Paradise and Sharks 2! Lizanna is simply charming in it! Simply charming! And the last sex scene after which she jumps from a cliff into the ocean…

  -- Where am I – I groaned, trying to push away from the invisible obstacles— Someone save me!

  -- And all of it uncensored? – asked another player eagerly, completely ignoring my cry for help— Everything?