The Way of the Clan 6: World of Valdira

by Dem Mikhaylov

  The Baroness allowed the loss of this very powerful trump card, because she didn’t want her brother to face the white warrior. If of course I was right in my reasoning.

  And what would happen if Orbit came across Orbit? I have no idea… but for some reason, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

  I nodded slowly to the “ghost” in white armor. There was something creepy about him, yes… but there was much more grandeur in his invincibility. I realized that it was only because of this card that Joker was able to emerge unscathed. And still… what was the card with the luminous golden glow Joker had in his hands?

  “The debate is over,” said the guard, filling with a pearly glow. “The path is opened.”

  As soon as he said the words the last veil disappeared with a loud chime. The last curtain had lifted. We were in the heart of the Outland, and I was steps away from the ancient equipment… my eyes greedily devoured the ancient ruins at the top of the mountain…

  The blushing orange star flew away into the ruins, stopping at a square wide stele which rose about a hundred meters above the ruins. At the upper edge of the steel was a sort of dent. The guard slammed into it, and melded with the stone, the pearlescent glow inside the star almost fading to gray, obviously implying that he had lost interest in us.

  Hm…

  The impression was this: we broke into a high security museum full of antiques and jewels, and were met by a very serious guard. And rather than kick us out, the watchman preferred to play three rounds of a game— it probably gets boring here. The caretaker lost and withdrew, opening the way to the museum. But now he hung over us still… if we picked up a coin from the dust, the guard could return and happily declare that he changed his mind. In short— it would have been so much better if he just went away! But there he is, posing as a decoration for a stele!

  “Everyone— get in formation!” Said the Baroness, moving away from the pale-faced Joker. “Attention! That which we are looking for is probably at the center of the ruins! And probably there will be a portal then! We walk together! Until we all reach it, no one should even think of getting to the center. We will turn over every stole, check every crevice! Collect EVERYTHING!” The Baroness raised her voice. “Work like bulldozers! Rake in everything you can! Use the mammoths for storage! Those responsible for oversight are Drass and Eye. All the birds take to the skies! Not only ours— the Architects too! After all, we want to come out of here as winners, not fly back naked! Don’t forget the protective auras! And I sincerely hope that there is no moron among us who is going to throw a stone or piece of wood into the guard in the stele! Right?”

  “Right?” Hands on her hips, the Baroness addressed her brother, and then menacingly looked back at the troops.

  “Should I tell her now about the Kolyvan’s carrying capacity or later?” Quietly murmured Ul, talking to himself.

  “That’s it! Get started! And remember— bulldozers! A bulldozer isn’t just on the surface— it removes about a meter of solid ground! Eye! I see something small to the right, like a cemetery with tombs… send the Pterodactyls there to investigate. Then I want a report! If there are gravestones— we need to see them! If coffins— take them with us! Do not open them! And take the statues! But do not break them! Malice, was it you who broke the tail of the extremely rare statue of an obsidian manticore?”

  “Accidentally!”

  “Uh-huh… all, begin the raid!”

  And so it began…

  There was a picture of this in some textbook…

  “Vandals in Rome,” was it? Or something…

  No sooner had the Baroness finished speaking that the first ranks of soldiers dealt the first strike.

  A statue of a warrior with a spear was torn out of the ground and harnessed to one of the mammoths. A dwarf grabbed a stone slab and threw it to the side, checking the earth below it. He found something small and threw it into his backpack.

  On the ledge of one of the surviving buildings stood a frieze of imps… and a minute later, the devils disappeared into the bag of an elf archer. And they were very, very nicely done, and oh… so expensive…

  That was the difference between the noobies and pros. The pros of Valdira knew that real value wasn’t in gold hidden in a chest in the basement. Bullshit. It was in bas-reliefs, sculptures, stained glass and wrought iron window frames. These devils can easily serve as unique decorations, and will go for a huge amount at the Algora auctions. A noob will not look at the unsightly copper imps— he will search for the treasure chest.

  The Sleepless Clan ruthlessly bulldozed the ancient ruins. They ravaged the plot of earth. It would remain in this shoveled state forever. A building which resembled a chapel crashed down with a roar. Two warriors carried out a metal column with a very intricate engraving.

  And it was not only the Sleepless who were pillaging. I was left alone. Even Kira went forwards, seduced by the passion for money. Bom… he had been one of the first.

  Kaylen had gone after Bom, and then Cray strode forward, dragging Doc behind him.

  Murohrom stood nearby, turning in place and looking into the ground— apparently directing the worm on a search through the earth. The pet would find something easily.

  Orbit was trying to figure out something from a mural on the wall, and no one attempted to interfere.

  The Baroness remained in the center of the unit, overseeing the constant flow of valuables.

  The Sleepless went into the wealthy city… and left it as a poor wasteland.

  We moved in a spiral, and had not yet overcome even one-third of the first round. But we forged ahead. Slowly but surely we moved forwards, closer the center of the ruins. There stood a simple stone stele with the “inserted” guard. And there, in the center, was hidden the most important object. Something for which we had come to the Outland.

  Only I felt that something was off… there was no way that the graying guard of the ancients was watching us destroy his city with indifference…

  Chapter Four

  A legend!

  The center…

  The heart of the Outland.

  The square was in the shape of a giant polygon with fifteen sides. There were two deep water channels leading to it, both going down different streets. That was for the achilots… and didn’t interest me. But the ground architecture was very eye-catching…

  In the center, there were a couple of stone towers, each no more than ten meters in height, and no more than three in width. They were strong and solid, almost intact except for a few cracks and stains. The tower was made of colorful brick. But the bricks were not clay— the material looked like metal and glass. One of the towers immediately attracted my attention with its black and white bricks. The entire mausoleum was built of these two-toned bricks. And they alternated randomly, with no apparent pattern. In the center were double doors of gray metal. On the upper half of the door was the familiar face of a wolf— the original sat next to me, trying to clean his nose of dirt on my pants. Below the chiseled muzzle was a five fingered handprint, large enough for a player of any race.

  There was a tower built of orange material and white…

  And a little further, a rocky construction, obviously containing the equipment for the legendary worm.

  This was it.

  We reached it.

  We got to the delicious beef patty.

  Both clans froze almost instantly before the tall stele, topped with the starry guard of the ancients. I stood before it too, forcing myself to look around, and not just at the black and white mausoleum.

  The first thing we noticed was grayness and silence.

  Dust. The dust covered every player and animal. It was from collapsed buildings, toppled statues and bas-reliefs.

  We were the barbarians of Valdira, vandals of the Outland.

  And it was no joke about the vandalism. Many of us achieved “Vandal” as an achievement.

  And the silence— piercing silence hangs over the ruins. An atmosphere worthy of the
wild west movies, in the moment where two cowboys face each other, holding large-caliber revolvers. Soon there will be shots, and first blood spilt…

  And the eyes of the crowd were directed to the main person, specifying the universal rhythm.

  No, not me. The warriors and wizards looked at the Baroness, firmly standing in the middle of the square and looking back. I, despite my legendary Navigator status, was only a discreet bystander. One of the extras. It is during moments like these that I realize that I’m not the real legend, but the Baroness is— one who is respected by not only her friends but also by her enemies. No, I haven’t become a fan— but I will certainly vouch for her skills and experience.

  The Baroness wasn’t worried. No.

  She was musing, staring at the cobblestone underfoot.

  “A message for passengers of the VIP class,” the Baroness purred. “The armored train has arrived at the terminal. Please leave the cars and go to the railway station in five minutes. Please be orderly— no jostling. Thank you for your generous pay. We hope that you enjoyed the trip.”

  “Not too much?” Said a broad shouldered dwarf in a gray mail coat. “Go to the exit. You show us the exit.”

  “I will,” smiled the head of the Sleepless. “First, the doors have to open. Golden Boy, open your chest and take your things.”

  After a couple of seconds, everyone thinking hard, Florian awkwardly cleared his throat:

  “What? Ahem… Okay… open and take my things,” said the golden night, too tired to get the allegory right away.

  And what was she going to call me? Dirty boy with a dog? I’d be offended at that…

  “Then Murohrom,” continued the Baroness.

  The dwarf nodded and slowly walked to his structure. The golden knight had almost reached the door of the orange building with the three white stripes.

  “You, Ros, are last. But don’t go until I say, don’t rush, okay?” The girl smiled at me.

  “Hm...” I scratched my head. “Got it.”

  At that moment, the golden knight Florian pressed his palm into the print on the door. And a crystal melodic chiming filled the area with a joyful sound.

  Nothing exploded. No one was killed.

  The orange door swung open and, inside the tower, a blinding white light with golden sunbeams shone. The knight started— obviously it was something interesting to behold— and stepped forward, crossing into the threshold of the doorway. The dragon climbed in, following the master. When the dragon disappeared inside the tower, the ringing of bells were replaced by an unfamiliar voice, full of grouchy and universal wisdom:

  “THE SAGES USED TO SAY: IF YOU ARE FIRST TO LEAVE— YOU WILL LIVE LONGER.”

  After the last syllable, a place on the stone pavement lit up with a greenish blue glow. Teleport! But how feeble the light is— it seems, about to be extinguished.

  But! Suddenly, as though it were the gift of god, an exit appeared on the stone!

  Meaning— you could go right now and escape the Outland into the security of the real world. The world out there wasn’t that great either, but at least they had popcorn. My legs twitched, wanting to make a break for it.

  “Passengers from the Architectural college… you are asked to exit,” continued the Baroness.

  Then her voice sharply changed tone.

  “I am not kidding. It is time to go. One by one.”

  “The portal is weak! It won’t…” an Orc roared, and, stumbling, added: “It won’t work!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” nodded the Baroness. “But you can send some of them! There won’t be time later. Begin now. Baron, send some from our units as well.”

  No sooner said than done.

  One after the others, players began to dive into the dim portal. The Baron guided them. There were a few soldiers, some tanks. A few familiar eyes fixed on me.

  “Go now,” I nodded. “Right now. Don’t even hesitate. Take all you can. And hurry.”

  “Got it, boss,” harshly and decisively said Bom. He turned and walked quickly to the teleport, leading out of the Outland.

  “Are you sure?” Timidly asked Doc.

  “One hundred percent,” I said briskly. “We’re all not built for this. I would have gone too if I could. But, you know,” I nodded at the yawning black and white wolf. “I won’t leave without his armor.”

  “Okay,” sighed Doc, and ran after the half-orc, carrying his bag on his shoulders.

  “No!” Kaylen snapped, and it was clear that she had made up her mind. “You can’t make me.”

  “Ugh…” Sighed Cray. “I’ll stay.”

  “Guys,” I resignedly shook my head. “You are really just something… Come on, give Bom your bags. If you die, your carcass stays here.”

  “Okay,” said she, fishing in her bag for the most valuable objects.

  I didn’t bother to ask the bald elf— he was already sitting on the head of the Kolyvan, gleefully rubbing his hands together. Kira shook her head briefly. Well, that’s that. They had decided on death.

  A couple of minutes and many of the soldiers vanished into the portal. And the Baroness said in a slightly strained voice:

  “Murohrom, you’re up.”

  There was a red flash next to the stone tower, and the door crumbled into dust. In stepped Murohrom, highlighted in red, and the worm crawled after him.

  “THE SAGES USED TO SAY: BE THE SECOND TO STEP— AND MAYBE YOU’LL WALK AWAY.”

  The glowing portal flashed brighter, and became more powerful. But that wasn’t all— the hill rose up to a height of about eight or nine meters. It was now on a large stone with fairly steep slopes. The outlines reminded me of something, but I didn’t know exactly what.

  “Fast!” Snapped the Baroness, taking out her trademark half-mask, but not yet putting it onto the lower part of her face. “Hurry!”

  Everyone rushed forwards headlong…

  The Architects rumbled past us like a swarm of locusts. With hysterical yells they literally raised the animals up the slopes and shoved them into the portal. Along with that disappeared the strongly guarded cargo. And then the last fighters of the Architects disappeared into the portal. Close behind them were several animals of the Sleepless clan, including one mammoth. The Kolyvan stayed with us.

  “Good luck!” Said the last one as he teleported— a giant orange dragon with the rider on its back.

  Florian had done it— he had gotten the legendary gear and disappeared. The dragon was fast, but I managed to see a new addition to the armor on his hind legs and tail. Something metallic and shiny.

  And it appeared that Florian wasn’t the last to escape in this round. Without saying a word, and with just a wave of the hand as a goodbye, the gnome Murohrom disappeared into the portal along with his worm.

  “Guys,” said Kira. “The portal is twitching.”

  “Not the portal,” I said. “The whole hill.”

  “Ros,” the voice of the Baroness tore me away from contemplation.

  “Huh?”

  “You are next.”

  “You sure?” I chuckled evilly. “Why am I always the last of the three?”

  “It was in the roll of dice,” the Baroness surprised me. “About twenty minutes ago. Your piece fell on the number one. Murohrom on five. And Florian on six. Want to discuss your luck? Or just to complain like a little girl?”

  “Egh,” I said, heading to the black and white mausoleum. She got me there. Behind my back, I could hear the quiet chortling of Kaylen and Kira.

  “Well,” I said, trudging towards the door and the handprint. “Let it be then!”

  “Act fast! The spectacle will be worth it— but you should not stay here, Ros. Take your equipment and run! And then you can look at the video to catch everything you missed,” added the Baroness. She obviously knows something. But what is it?

  What kind of flash will I have? White?...

  Black. A black flash flared before me when the door swung open. Black with white splashes. Beautiful, mysterious, an
d very depressing.

  “Countdown! Fifteen!” The Baroness raised her voice. “Whoever wants to leave must do it now! This is the warning! Fourteen!”

  I immediately felt that something was wrong, and ducked into the doorway. The snarling Tyrant followed close behind, nearly knocking me off my feet.

  And then I heard the voice from behind. Another poem?

  “SAGES USED TO SAY: THIS IS A GOOD PLACE FOR DEATH!”

  This isn’t a poem! It’s a straight up threat!

  But I only paid it a little attention. Because my eyes were darting around, frantically looking for the treasure.

  And there it was… in the air, enveloped in mysterious three-colored lights— two slowly turning objects.

  The legendary equipment…

  The first thing: an oval plate, something like a breastplate, in the form of a black and white mosaic pattern. I grabbed the plate, which was attached to black and white chains. I immediately noticed the name of the object: “Name is Not Selected.”

  I immediately threw the breastplate onto my wolf.

  What’s next?

  The second thing— a huge thick collar framed with long spikes. The metal collar also had the description: “Name is Not Selected.”

  Click. The old collar was removed and thrown into the backpack.

  Click. The new one closed on the throat of my wolf. I had no time to waste.

  I ran out of the mausoleum, feeling the whole area shaking.

  “Five!” The Baroness cried at the sight of me. “Run, Ros! Towards the exit! Four!”

  And I was running, falling down onto the stone pavement with my hands, getting up and running again.

  “Three!”

  I kept on running.

  “Two!”

  The Red Baron jumped to me and easily caught me, and then dropped me again when the roaring Tyrant jumped on him.

  “Tyrant, no!” I yell. “Damn it…”

  “One! Ros… you’re now a spectator. You have front row tickets. But we will try to throw you into the portal with Tyrant. Tell him not to move!” Shouted the Baroness angrily. “We have to send you back!”