The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2)

by Alexey Osadchuk

  What could I lose, after all? A damp hole in the barracks cellar? And as for dangerous, the game gave us plenty of warning every time the magic shield came down. I could always run for cover if need be.

  "I'd love to," I said. "I just hope Captain Gard won't object."

  "Oh no, he won't! He's all for it! I'm going to tell him now."

  His face lit up with excitement that actually looked sincere. It looked as if the guy really missed company.

  "All you have to do is move your stuff here," he said.

  I shrugged. "Omnia mea mecum porto."

  "Excuse me?"

  "All my things I carry with me," I translated for him.

  "What language is this?" he asked, curious.

  "Latin. It's an ancient language. It's been dead for hundreds of years. This phrase is ascribed to a famous sage."

  "How interesting. What happened to him?"

  "When his city was seized by the enemy, they took mercy on its citizens and even allowed them to leave with whatever possessions they could take with them. On one condition."

  "Which was?"

  He was one curious NPC, wasn't he? His eyes were gleaming with excitement.

  "Nothing serious, really. The city dwellers weren't allowed to use either draught animals or carts. Only their own backs."

  "Oh," the wizard smiled. "I can imagine these people staggering under the weight of their possessions! But what about the sage?"

  "The sage walked empty-handed, an unusual sight among his heavily-loaded compatriots. Enemy soldiers by the city gate made fun of him, saying, 'Where are your possessions, old man? Haven't you managed to acquire anything at all in your lifetime?' To which the old sage answered, pointing at his forehead-"

  "Omnia mea mecum porto!" Tronus exclaimed. "All my things I carry with me! That's excellent! That's very clever!"

  What an interesting NPC. Then again, why was I surprised? He was probably on the Top 100 list.

  "Now then," the wizard smiled, "are you staying?"

  "With pleasure," I said.

  A new system message came as a complete surprise — probably, because the wizard himself felt almost real. He felt alive, if you know what I mean.

  Congratulations! You've just completed a hidden quest: Wizard's Invitation.

  Reward: 100 Tyllill crystals

  What a nice surprise. Ten points to Reputation were always welcome.

  "As I said, I've got lots of space," the wizard went on. "Choose any room you want."

  "I've been thinking... you don't happen to have anything on this floor, do you? The view is just too good."

  "Oh! I can see you have a poetic streak!" the wizard exclaimed.

  I shrugged. "Sort of. I'm not sure of that. According to my wife, I'm not entirely lost to fine society."

  The wizard guffawed. The game developers must have invested some heart into this toon.

  We went on talking for quite a while. Or rather, Tronus did all the talking while I listened. Judging by his behavior, you might think he hadn't seen a living soul for a few centuries at least.

  He told me how the Citadel had come about, narrating stories of the glorious Black Stream battle and the famed Maragar Hundred. I learned that the foundations of this fortress of Light had been literally paved with its defenders' bones. Apparently, it had some long abandoned locations — like Zeddekey's Catacombs — a complex maze of underground labyrinths named after one of the Fortress' legendary architects. According to Tronus, these days no one knew where to look for them.

  While he elaborated on the subject of ancient legends, I opened the Citadel instance list. There they were, those catacombs. Well, well, well. A secret location, yeah right! I checked the chat. Exactly what I thought. Zeddekey's Catacombs were quite popular with players. I counted about thirty raid invitations. Recommended levels: 100+. Mobs: various monsters as well as the ghosts of ancient catacomb builders and Fortress defenders. The instance's boss was none other than the spirit of Zeddekey himself. Some place that was!

  Lost in reading, I must have missed something very important the wizard was saying. All I heard was,

  "...if only I could get a few of those rocks for my tower..."

  I shook my head. "Excuse me?"

  He stared at me, uncomprehending. "Didn't I just say? Yellow onyx. According to ancient scriptures, catacomb builders came across a small deposit of it. Wizards love this mineral for its energy-accumulating properties. So I just said that I'd love to have a few chunks of yellow onyx for my tower. What do you think?"

  New quest alert: Yellow Onyx!

  Reward: depends on the volume of the resource farmed.

  Deadline: none

  Accept: Yes/No

  Chapter Nine

  I spent some time before bed rummaging through a pile of Mirror World apps until I found one that seemed very useful: Alarm Clock. Apart from the standard options, this seemingly simple device could be set up to alert you to certain quests and other gaming events. For instance, if a player received a quest with a deadline, Alarm Clock had special settings to remind him or her of the time left till deadline. Or, as in my case, it could warn you of the beginning of every event located in the "Maragar Citadel and Its Environments".

  The settings offered several notification ringtones. I chose human voice — which surprisingly came in four options: polite, neutral, casual and vulgar. I chose polite, of course. I wasn't even going to try the other ones. I mean, who'd want to listen to obscenities spat at you by a bot? I might check out the neutral one later... or even... we'd have to see. Depends how busy I'd be.

  Still, I already knew from experience that Mirror World would keep me busy.

  Tronus kept his promise and offered me a decent room with a No-Man's Lands view. What could I say? — I'd asked for it.

  The room differed dramatically from my barracks cellar even though it was modest to say the least. Admittedly, I missed my room in Ronald's inn: all those bathrobes and slippers, the shower even. Here I could only dream of such creature comforts, even though here they were all but a figment of my imagination. My body was now lying nice and motionless in the capsule, snug like an Egyptian mummy. It was left in the real world. As was my family.

  Before falling asleep, I spent some time contemplating the Logout button. It had already become a habit.

  I spent a quiet night — peaceful even. In the morning, I entered the tower's central hall well-rested. The wizard was already waiting for me.

  "Morning, Olgerd!" he exclaimed. "Did you sleep well?"

  "Excellent, thank you. I can't wait to start."

  "Jolly good, jolly good!" he smiled, then added with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "Very well. You asked for it."

  I nodded. "Spit it out. What do you want me to do?"

  No points for guessing that a catacomb trip wasn't the only job the system had in store for me. If the truth were known, I was quite happy. Every Reputation point brought me closer to the in-game bank loan.

  The wizard rubbed his hands. "You might have already noticed that the area around the tower is a mess."

  "You could say that. Strange you don't have any assistants."

  He shrugged. "Captain Gard keeps promising but..."

  "Can't you hire someone yourself?" I asked. "Look at all those loiterers walking right past your windows!"

  With a sigh, the wizard adjusted his goggles on his forehead. "I wish it were that easy. This is a classified location, dammit! I can only hire those with a clearance. For a while, I had a waiting list of players eager to help me. I had to find ways of getting rid of them by giving them impossible jobs to do. Hire! It's never easy with our Captain Gard. Still, he knows his stuff. After the Darkies' last outing it's not easy to find trustworthy personnel here."

  That's what it was! And I'd thought that players were afraid to come close to the tower. Did that mean that Mila's letter had worked, after all? My multi-stage quest seemed to have taken an unexpected turn.

  I remembered the sideways glance
s that the players had cast me last night. I could only imagine what they'd thought: an overeager noob Grinder hurrying to the wizard anticipating all the work around him, thinking that the wizard would issue him a yummy epic quest on a silver platter but having no idea that the said wizard's quests were out of even the advanced players' league. No wonder they'd taken me for an idiot!

  Which meant that Gard wasn't that much of a beast, really. He might be weird but he wasn't a "sick bastard". Never mind. This was still better than nothing at all.

  "I understand," I nodded knowingly. "You don't need to go on."

  "Jolly good!" the wizard clapped his hands. "I don't care about all that junk. I have too much on my plate as it is. Still, you have to agree that the square around the tower is not a pretty sight, putting it mildly."

  "You could say that," I agreed. "Imagine if some high-ranking officials wanted to visit your modest abode."

  "Exactly my point!" he nodded. "I think you and I will make a good team!"

  It was a good job Sveta my wife couldn't see me now. A bearded Dwarf craftsman...

  "Let's do it!" Tronus summed up.

  New Quest Alert: Mop and Bucket.

  Clean the square around the wizard's tower.

  Reward: 300 Tyllill crystals

  Deadline: none

  Accept: Yes/No

  Okay, why not? Accept

  "So?" I asked. "Come on, then! Great deeds await us!"

  "Well done!" Tronus saluted me. "I've never seen anyone as impatient to get to work as you are."

  "It's nothing," I waved his praise away. "Just a bout of youthful enthusiasm, soon to be replaced by rheumatic arthritis. Talking about work: I'm afraid, after lunch I'll have to return to Drammen. I've been contracted to work in the local mines. I might spend the night there, then return to the Citadel with the first morning caravan."

  "That's nothing," the wizard replied. "You're a volunteer, aren't you? No one can force you to work."

  "Excellent," I said as I headed for the door.

  The contrast between what I'd seen outside yesterday and what I was facing now was incredible. Ruin and desolation! I got the impression that the wizard had been spending nights showering his own back yard with bits of rock, pieces of wood, fragments of roof tiles and liberal doses of broken glass. I thought I glimpsed a skeleton, its crocodile-like skull baring teeth the size of my hand. It looked as if this time I was really going to get plucked.

  Never mind. I'll just get on with it.

  First of all, I had to study the area around the tower which could be divided into two circles: the inner one, surrounded by a crumbling stone fence, and the outer one beyond it, ploughed up by Caltean missiles like a furrowed field.

  That decided it. I had to start with the internal part. From what I could see, this was a good week's work. That way at least I wasn't going to be too conspicuous. Already players were beginning to circle the fence, scrutinizing this latest development. Sorry, guys. You've got nothing to look for here. This is my quest, my junk and my mess.

  I began to plan how to move the rubbish and where to take it to. Still, as I approached the first heap of debris, I realized that the game developers had thought about everything.

  Name: a Pile of Junk

  Type: Simple

  Durability: 30/30

  Aha. These things were basically the same as Piles of Rubble, only those had 10 pt. less Durability. And how about restrictions? Let's have a look... right... found it. So! Hadn't I said that Mine Diggers were always in high demand? We weren't a picky bunch: we could go down mines or we could clear streets from debris... you name it, we could do it.

  I raised my head, surveying the square. There were at least fifteen more Piles of Junk lying around. And what if...

  I opened my Merry Digger and asked it to scan the work front. It zoned out for a while, then reported,

  Data analysis completed.

  The location contains the following quest items:

  Piles of Junk, simple, 25

  Piles of Junk, regular, 19

  Piles of Junk, large, 12

  Piles of Brick Rubble, 35

  Piles of Rock Rubble, 46

  Piles of Marble Rubble, 28

  Piles of Black Onyx, 11

  Blown-down Trees, 6

  Clumps of Evil Weed, 107

  Trampled Flowerbeds, 3

  Broken Windows, 5

  The list was rather longish. Generous, I'd say.

  Punctured walls, broken doors and windows, trampled flowerbeds and a collapsed fountain — I had enough work for a week, if not more. And all this generous offer for a miserable 30 pt. Reputation? Don't forget I still had to do my daily quota in the mines. No one was going to relieve me of that.

  Never mind. We'll get through it.

  I walked over to the nearest flowerbed. It looked as if it had been ravaged by a giant mole. The earth had been ploughed up and littered with bits of building stone, bricks and roof tiles. The little fence listed to one side. I wasn't observing any flowers — fresh, dry or otherwise.

  Still, I decided to make a start here. This particular quest object was just as good as the next.

  As if! Apparently, I couldn't. The flowerbed came with a restriction attached. It could only be tended by players of certain professions. The list was quite exhaustive, starting with landscape designer, gardener and florist. Halfway down it I also saw herbalist. He must have been the one responsible for removing the Evil Weed.

  Unwilling to waste any more time on checking the various types of junk piles for their respective availability, I ordered my Merry Digger to search for those I could handle. Much to my pleasure, the list shrank about 25%.

  All the piles of rock and junk were mine. To deal with the rest, Tronus would have to hire other professions. One of the items on the list surprised me,

  Broken door, 1

  What would a Digger have to do with that? Doors were supposed to be handled by carpenters or cabinet makers, weren't they?

  I asked my Digger to run a repeat search, just to double-check it. You never know, it might have glitched... but no. My little helper kept offering me this broken door.

  Very well. I'd have to look into this later. In the meantime, I had to get to work. What should we start with? — Aha, better the devil you know.

  You've tried to clear a Pile of Brick Rubble

  -3 to the item's durability.

  Durability: 17/20

  I brandished my pick some more. Let's see what we have now:

  You've tried to clear a Pile of Brick Rubble

  -10 to the item's durability.

  Durability: 7/20

  Excellent. Wish all of my swings were this good.

  You've tried to clear a Pile of Brick Rubble

  -5 to the item's durability.

  Durability: 2/20

  Not bad, either. I took another swing, just to check. I was curious. Would I make it?

  You've cleared a Pile of Brick Rubble!

  Reward: 1 Tyllill crystal.

  Yes! Excellent. The wizard's quest began to take on a new shape. What a promising beginning. True, the system could have been more generous, but it was irrelevant. The main thing was, I got some tyllill.

  Watch out, junk! Here I come!

  * * *

  I spent till midday brandishing my pick. Or rather, Merry Digger did. In the meantime, I was doing whatever meager research was available in Mirror World's info portal.

  As if confirming the old adage about things being easier said than done, the virtual sky kept up a constant drizzle on me.

  It never stopped — a fine, unpleasant veil of moisture that dripped down the back of my collar. What a few hours ago looked like a regular backyard had by now turned into a mud bath. For the umpteenth time I sent rays of gratitude to the caravanners' leader. If I saw him later this evening, I absolutely had to buy him a drink.

  I'd already pulled down all the piles of bricks, marble and half of the rocks. Any hopes for the game rewarding me wit
h something worthwhile had dwindled to nothing. Tyllill crystals were few and far between: one or two per junk pile, sometimes three. A lot of piles were empty — no idea why. But it wasn't that bad, after all. Sixty-two crystals: definitely better than nothing.

  While my Merry Digger bot controlled my digital body, I read up on the Zeddekey's Catacombs. Had I had access to the World Wide Web, my research might have been more profound but even this meager information was quite enough for my purposes.

  Now, the Catacombs. Not the nicest of locations, I had to admit — pretty much like everything else in this part of Mirror World. The most unpleasant thing about them was that their labyrinths didn't have a map. From what I sussed out from reading snatches of forum messages, the Catacomb tunnels had a habit of changing their direction. Each raid down them had to be done from scratch, even for those raid members who'd done the whole instance several times visiting the spirit of the ancient architect in the Main Cave. The time needed to get there also varied: some players reached the Main Cave faster than others.

  On top of that, the Catacombs were packed with all sorts of traps and highly aggressive wandering ghosts. And just to give you some idea, Zeddekey's level was directly proportional to the level of the player who wished to take him on but no less than a hundred. All in all, it wasn't the most accommodating of instances.

  My checking of both the chat and raid applications confirmed my gut feeling: there was no way I could do this quest. No group in their sane minds were going to accept a zero-level player. Ideally, group members had to have similar levels. Fighting the boss was a very complex affair that demanded the highest degree of team work. Accepting a low-level player could jeopardize the whole operation, putting everyone else at risk. And I wasn't even a proper player!

  Just as I thought, the only Yellow Onyx deposit was in the Main Cave. Or rather, in a small vault located behind it — guarded by Zeddekey's evil spirit.