Cat's Quest

by Roman Prokofiev

  “Got it?” AlexOrder asked. “It’s the edge of wilderness. Here, PKers are hunting carebears...”

  I understood. The borders between kingdoms and “wild” lands were always unsafe. The players who roamed in the wilderness loved hunting players belonging to kingdoms, while the latter constantly organized forays into the wastes. Why were they doing it? Greed. The best dungeons, resource deposits, and mobs were all in the wilderness.

  Here, in the “wild” lands to the north of Wild Field, PvP activity was consistently high. The Watchers’ alliance controlled the territory to the north and west of Eyre, and had a zero tolerance policy for PKers, but in the Steppe, it was complete anarchy. Many clans, big and small, warred with each other, sometimes uniting or breaking up to continue squabbling. The players’ castles never survived for long, and the region had no master. If one clan tried to increase its influence, the entire Steppe rose up against them, pouring across cities and hills in an avalanche of chaos, destroying everything that could be destroyed, laughing madly. In short, it was a fun place. And it was where we were headed.

  * * *

  “They were here, I detected their Disguise.”

  “Tao’s coordinates were correct,” said Svoy thoughtfully. “Did they break camp here?”

  The PROJECT HELL team was standing in a forest glen among grey boulders.

  “Yes! A camp... We’ll find...” Seeker made strange gestures, and two dark murky shadows flocked to him, changing their shapes each second. A moment later, they transformed into animals, either dogs or wolves, large and rangy, with lustrous fur and eyes like burning coals.

  “How cute!” Tasmith said, flinging her hands up. “Are these your new pets? Can I touch them?”

  “Yes. But I don’t advise it.” Seeker smirked. “They’re bloodhounds, the Lady’s pawns. They already have perfect reputations. They aren’t wolves, they are elven werewolves. I was given a henchmen quest, right off the bat, and it’s a funny one. Just imagine, they’re cursed for some betrayal...”

  “We don’t have time for that nonsense!” Svoy interrupted him. “Look for their tracks!”

  The werewolves went around the clearing, smelling the crumpled ferns, the remains of the fire, the grey stones. Seeker followed them, mumbling.

  “There were three of them, their tracks stop here, so they probably left on a birdie,” he said a couple of minutes later. “Most likely, a roc.”

  “I wonder who Komtur sent to guard the Err.” Ravenling said. “And why just two? Did they tell Tao the nicknames?”

  “No,” said Svoy, frustrated. “The fewer people you send, the harder they are to find.”

  “The mental signal is weaker,” Seeker nodded. “Harder to pinpoint...”

  “We’ll find them. A roc flies slower with a cargo of three. We’re faster, and they can’t have gotten far. Seeker?”

  “I’m on it...” The scout knelt and froze in a weird stance, his hands pressed against his temples, as if meditating. Nobody was disturbing him. The others knew that he was using Mental Search, a rare high-level skill that worked similar to standard Search, but could find living creatures at a distance instead of just objects.

  “I’ve got it!” Seeker said, opening his eyes a few minutes later. “The signal’s moving southwest! It’s fifteen to twenty leagues away!”

  “Saddle up!” Svoy commanded.

  * * *

  “There are five of them,” said Alex , when a group of dots came into view in a haze behind our backs. “A constant party, the PROJECT’s battle five. They’re riding archgriffons.”

  Archgriffons were bad news. Those birdies could significantly outpace a roc carrying three people. We had only two hours, after which, they would catch up and beat the daylights out of us. Still, we weren’t about to go down easily. We were going to play fast and loose with them.

  “The long jaunt”—that was what AlexOrder called it. He explained that this tactics were usually used when respawn points were located far from each other, and matched the vector of players’ movement. That was how it was supposed to go: once within the range of a new respawn point, you died and immediately resurrected there, saving movement time. Then you moved toward the new resurrection point...rinse and repeat. The problem was, you could lose items in the process, so it was not for everyone. You also needed something to kill you. Well, the last thing was not an issue for us. Still, we had to save the Err.

  Our plan was simple as pie. We would split up. The Err, on horseback, would ride to the previously agreed spot, while Alex and I would play heroes, trying to hold off the pursuers. Our main goal was to kill off their birdies and decrease their movement speed. Then we would resurrect at the resp point twenty leagues south, saddle our birdie, pick up the Err, and fly ahead. PROJECT, meanwhile, would have to fool around, waiting for the cooldown of their flying mounts and lagging behind on their horses. That might allow us to outrun them.

  “It’s so stupid, it might just work,” Alex giggled at first, but then he trashed my plan enough for it to almost fall apart.

  “They aren’t stupid. They’ll do the same, kill each other if they have to, and go to the resp point.”

  “They won’t. They are PROJECT. I bet they’re all wearing epic stuff, and have bad karma. They won’t risk losing equipment and XP!” I argued.

  “Nonsense. They’ll give the valuables to one, while the others jump to resp via death.”

  “They won’t separate. They’re a constant party, a coordinated mechanism. They work as a team. It’s in their bones. And then, one or two might not be enough to defeat the Err. He’s rank four, a lord ruler, after all. They’ll be working together, I’m sure of it!”

  “I’m not convinced.”

  “And then, why would they jump after us? They’re looking for the Err, not us! They’ll follow him!”

  “And catch him!”

  “If we don’t kill their birdies.”

  “Too many ‘ifs’! Too risky!”

  “I have two more charges of Fiery Lightning. I’ll try not to screw up. You have dragon venom. We’ll ambush them. There is one other thing that worries me, though. What if they use a pentagram, like during the battle?”

  “Ah, don’t worry about that. We’re three hundred leagues away from Eyre, pentas don’t work that far. They won’t have time to assemble a raid and get it here. That requires preparation, and Tao and Komtur only came to their agreement this morning.”

  “This morning? How do you know that?”

  “Komtur’s message came in the morning.”

  “Okay. Have you explained to the Err where we’ll pick him up if it works out?”

  “Yes. There’s a hiding spot in the old ruins. I marked it on the map.”

  “What ruins?”

  “Some old temple of the dark gods...”

  * * *

  AlexOrder: First we’ll shoot. I’ll take the first one, you take the last.

  HotCat: Roger that.

  We were lying in wait behind the crest of the hill in thick wild grass, keeping a watchful eye on the approaching dark dots: the PROJECT’s hunters. Grasshoppers were chirring, cicadas were singing, and the sun was scorching.

  Far ahead of us, leaving a trail in the rippling grass, Endved Elyon rode south. We had to delay the pursuit for as long as we could.

  I hoped they would not be able to detect our ambush; no scout could keep Search on indefinitely, or they would run out of mana and stamina. Of course, nobody could guarantee it, as we had no idea what kind of trump card HELL’s warriors still had up their sleeves.

  Phew, that was close! Five arch-griffons in a tightly knit group dashed above us, whooshing through the air. They were not flying very high, wanting to keep maximum speed, which meant that they were in range of our bows.

  Non-targeting systems make shooting a moving target with a bow pretty hard, but that was one of the first things newbies were taught at the Watchers’ academy. We had to pick the correct lead-time, factor in wind allowance, and accou
nt for the fact that arrows do not fly in a straight line, but in an arc. It was tough, but pro archers in the clan could one-shot moving targets a hundred steps away, easily hitting the enemy’s head while mounted on a birdie or horse. I had never managed to achieve it, dammit!

  Time seemed to slow down. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alex release his bowstring, and I smoothly turned my bow toward the last rider in the group, targeting the spot just above and ahead of the beak of his flying beast, and fired. My arrow went off, buzzing, and in a second, with predatory pleasure, I saw the griffon twitch—my aim was true!

  Dragon venom was worth its price; five birdies turned around in unison, two of them clearly losing altitude. We continued shooting, but the birdies silhouettes became shrouded in weird swirling that reflected our arrows back. Actively maneuvering, moving in curves, and spiraling, they dived down, firing back at us—and missing, as we were all but invisible, hidden in grass as tall as a living human.

  The moment of truth had come. We had to kill the enemy’s birdies, stripping them of their speed advantage, and winning a few hours of time. This was even more important than killing them, as death would just make PROJECT respawn at the nearest point and continue the hunt.

  Aelmaris left its sheath, burning with restless blue flame. The powers of the mysterious sword were at my command, and I called out Fiery Lightning against the birdies who were dropping down on us.

  * * *

  Svoy: Eyrin, Swirling Shield! Tasmith, heal the birdies! Seeker, Raven, give me marks!

  Tasmith: I’m working on it, they have dragon venom!

  Eyrin: Swirls are up.

  Ravenling: No marks, can’t see them!

  Svoy: Split up! Those who are hit, glide to the ground!

  Tasmith: What the..? I’m falling down, my birdie’s torched!

  Eyrin: I’m using Feather Fall!

  Svoy: Don’t panic! Marks are up! AlexOrder—kill him! Catch the second, nets and curses, we need him alive!

  * * *

  We managed to achieve our goal. The last birdie was dying, poisoned with AlexOrder’s rune. PROJECT fighters went down with unnatural slowness and scrambled to their feet, one after another, surrounding us in a semi-circle.

  They were led by a tall elf in splint mail, wearing a blue cloak. His pointy ears gave his long golden hair a slight lift. His face might have been handsome, if not for his vicious smirk.

  “Hi,” he said, succinctly, and saluted us with his long curved sword. AlexOrder, who was standing next to me in a battle stance, suddenly disappeared in a bright flash, and a lightning ball exploded in the spot where he had just been standing. My friend was instantly incinerated, and I didn’t escape unscathed, as the lightning pushed me back several steps.

  Eyrin dealt you 149 with Ball Lightning! You are stunned for 10 seconds! You are paralyzed for 10 seconds! Your HP: 231/380.

  Shadowspinning Net was used against you! You are ensnared! Your movement speed is reduced by 75%!

  You are under the effect of Mana Drain. Each 5 seconds, you lose 1 mana! Duration: 10 minutes.

  You are under the effect of Weakness. All attributes decreased by 5 points. Duration: 10 minutes.

  Spidersilk Lasso was used against you! You are immobilized! You cannot use weapons and items!

  That was expected; they were a well-coordinated team. While I was recovering, they caught me in two nets and a lasso, and inflicted some debuffs.

  “Well, well, well,” commented the elf. Now he was close enough for me to see his nickname, Svoy. “Where’s the Err?”

  Suddenly, Aelmaris flashed in my hands, and a wave of heat rolled along the blade.

  Star Metal Wrath activated! All creatures in 30 feet radius are returned to their true form!

  Svoy, who was standing right next to me, was transformed. Instead of a handsome elf, he was now a snake-headed, scaly beast with a flat skull and vertical pupils in his yellow eyes.

  “So many secrets,” he said, a forked tongue in his fanged mouth, then called out to the others, “Don’t come close!”

  “You don’t say! I wonder, how much will your rivals pay for this secret?” I giggled. “Oh, and one other question. Has anybody ever invited you to go fishing? You’d be perfect bait!”

  AlexOrder: Wow, a snakeman! That’s a bonus race available only to paid accounts!

  HotCat: Really, pay money to play as an oversized worm?

  HotCat: Are you still here?

  AlexOrder: Well, they haven’t finished me off yet. I’ll be dead in a minute...

  So, it was a paid race for players with “gold” and “diamond” accounts. In addition to unique appearance, they had special traits and abilities, as well as access to hidden quests and so forth. Although, I had heard, that playing as an inhuman character in total immersion games was dangerous to one’s mental state.

  “So that’s who Komtur sent to save the Err!” Svoy continued. “A newbie with a cheat sword! Sounds just like him!”

  “Everything’s just as usual, I’m not even surprised,” he concluded, examining my bound body, and then commanded the others, “remove the nets and the curses.”

  Tasmith cast Cleansing on you! Mana Drain was removed!

  Tasmith cast Cleansing on you! Weakness was removed!

  “Now you’ll see that waving a Jedi stick doesn’t make a player a warrior!” The snakeman announced. “Let there be a fight!”

  He ostentatiously threw aside his falchion, then unfastened a long dagger from his belt and dropped it on the grass. I straightened my back, assuming battle stance. Was he going to fight me unarmed? Well, that would be a relief; I had never been one to insist on honorable combat. My only regret was that all Fiery Lightnings were on a day-long cooldown. Still, every touch of the flaming sword was deadly, which meant that I had a chance!

  The arena is full of yellow sand, and a trainer is looking over the silent Liberty recruits...

  “Look, it’s super simple, child’s play,” Hermione said. “But even experienced players sometimes buy into it. Lionel!”

  Lionel stepped out of formation, standing opposite his mentor. A series of rapid, almost elusive movements, and he dropped his stick and tumbled around in the sand, clutching his underbelly.

  “Did you get it? No? Then let’s go over it step by step...”

  Hermione stepped back and raised the practice stick above her head.

  “Look, you’re imitating the first blow from above. It’s strong and it’s fast, it’s a cleave. But don’t go through with it all the way. From the middle of the maneuver, turn it into a stab right into the enemy’s heart, so it might become a critical hit. But even that stab is a bluff! Your goal is to get close to the enemy, while they’re blocking, and kick them you-know-where! I hope everyone has unlocked Kick?”

  I jumped at the snakeman, threatening to cleave him from above. Then I pretended to stab him, clinched, and tried to kick him, which would send him into a five-second knockout. Svoy was inhumanly fast and nimble, like a...snake. He effortlessly dodged my blows and suddenly appeared on my left, an inconvenient direction. His green-scaled fist flashed before me, knocking me down with a heavy blow.

  Svoy dealt you 14 damage! Your HP: 217/380.

  “Somebody hasn’t been studying! Time to go back to elementary school,” he said, mocking me. “Stand up!”

  I scrambled to my feet, holding Aelmaris in front of me. The four PROJECT members who surrounded us were blatantly grinning, commenting on the developments.

  Svoy dealt you 11 damage! Your HP: 206/380.

  Svoy dealt you 13 damage! Your HP: 193/380.

  I was completely outmatched. Maybe, Hermione, Balian, Dimonicus, or Komturs—the pro players I knew—could challenge him, but not me. I couldn’t even graze him, not matter how hard I tried. Then Svoy was behind my back, his strong fingers tearing apart my shoulder and right elbow. I heard a crunch, and for a second, was blinded with pain.

  Svoy dealt you 57 damage with Disarm! You are injured! Your right han
d is broken! You cannot use weapons in your right hand! Each 5 seconds, you lose 1 HP! Your HP: 136/380.

  That bastard broke my arm! Terrible pain shot through it, even though my immersion level was just 70%. The right hand of my paper doll turned red and showed a six-hour countdown until the injury would be healed. In the meantime, holding me with one hand, Svoy slowly explained his actions to his clanmates,

  “Disarm. Prevents the enemy from wielding a sword and shocks.” He pressed down on my broken arm, causing me to scream in pain, then threw me into the grass.

  “I’m tired of all this botting! Time for jokes is over, Cat! Hold him!” Two people raised me up under my arms, and led me to the snakeman.

  You lose 1 HP! Your HP: 134/380.

  “Heal him, Tasmith. I do not want him to die too early!”

  He hit me once again, then brought his scaled head closer to my face, staring at me with his yellow unblinking eyes. Whooshing air came out of the two black holes that replaced his nose.

  “I repeat the question, Cat! Where’s the Err?”

  Unfortunately, you couldn’t spit in Sphere, or that is exactly what I would have done to that arrogant snake face. Instead, I just told him what a complete creep he was.

  “I see we won’t resolve this peacefully.” Svoy sighed with chagrin. He pulled a strange symbol out from under his splint mail, a greenish dagger in the shape of a small hammer. Its rough edges were gleaming viciously—the steel was sharp. Svoy took the dagger to my face and pressed the cold blade against my cheek. A warm trickle ran down my face, and the system informed me of slight bleeding.

  “I’m going to cut out your eye, first the left, and then the right. Do want me to?” He whispered, pressing the blade with more and more force. “Where’s the Err?!”