Clans War

by Mahanenko, Vasily

  “What do you mean, ‘Kornik?’ Anytime anything happens, it’s always Kornik, Kornik, Kornik,” aped my teacher. “You’ve learned all there is to learn! And much more than everyone else, I might add. I’ll say it again — you need to act like everyone else and avoid trying to change anything. I doubt that Eluna or Tartarus would leave a loophole for their favorites. Why would they? I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow. We’re going to learn how to summon Spirits all over again…Pshaw! Now I’ve seen it all! A Harbinger who hasn’t a clue about how to be a Shaman! What a nightmare!”

  Still muttering into his nose, Kornik stepped a few paces away from me, gave me another glance, smirked and vanished. The air around me filled with the buzz of other Shamans, many of whom had never seen Prontho in the flesh before. For my part, I tried to detach my mind from it all. Kornik had basically told me outright that it was possible to go on summoning the Spirits in my accustomed manner, so I had to now consider this matter in the proper manner. I didn’t feel like becoming an average Shaman.

  * * *

  “Mahan, it’s been so long!” Favaz, my Jewelcrafting teacher — who had become first among the masters of Anhurs — welcomed me with sincere happiness. The workshop that had been destroyed during the blooming of the Ying-Yang had long since been restored. The gnome had added several floors to it so that now the pitter-patter and bustle of the craftsmen housed up there descended down to us. Over the last half-year, the Jewelcrafting profession had undergone a renaissance. The popularity of this profession now rivaled that of Smithing or Tanning, and consequently had affected the costs of the ingredients and prices of the finished products. Even before the Cataclysm, Mr. Kristowski had begun sighing about the bygone days when a simple Gold ring of +5 to some old stat cost a mere hundred gold. Now, however, the price of a ring like that was lower than the cost of the ingredients you needed to craft it, which was making the crafting of low-level items prohibitively expensive. On the other hand, the gathering and mining business was on the up and up — players were buying up stacks of ingredients by the thousands, wishing to become the next exquisite jeweler and dazzle Barliona with the craftsmanship.

  “Teacher,” I bowed my head as per custom, greeting my senior. The Barliona NPCs really get off on subordination, and bowing your head or curtseying one extra time never hurts. “I am pleased to see your workshop is prospering.”

  “It’s all thanks to you!” In a fit of gratitude, the gnome placed his hand on my shoulder, pouring oil on the fire of my vanity. If I had any vanity, that is. “It’s no small honor to say that I taught a Jeweler who managed to cause the Ying-Yang to bloom! Every new Free Citizen who comes to study with me first asks whether Shaman Mahan studied here at some point. Even if you did not learn the basic skills from me, the polishing and faceting of your trade was the work of my hands!”

  The gnome called over one of his assistants, issued a curt order and then ushered me into the next room which turned out to be a reception room.

  “I saw your recipe,” Favaz went on, offering me some tea. “A very curious solution — giving lovers a chance to speak telepathically with one another. Have you made one yet?”

  “Only one set,” I replied, sipping the tea and noticing the temporary boost to my Jewelcrafting stats. Even if it was only +10 for sixty minutes, the important thing was that Barliona now had drinks that would boost your profession. A welcome feature for players who had dedicated themselves to crafting. “I need to create several thousand Pendants but I have no idea where I’ll find the time to do it. Three or four minutes per item is too much. Much too much. And that’s why I’m here. Figured you might have some useful advice for me.”

  “Why, what could I possible advise you…” the gnome spread his arms. “The only thing you can do is sit down and get to work. You can’t transfer the recipe. You can’t not do the work. So the only thing that follows is work, work, and more work. You have to work even when you’re taking a break from working. There’s no other advice I can offer.”

  Suddenly, the sound of shattering glasses resounded overhead.

  “Why that no good, useless, armless thing!” Favaz yelled in anger. The gnome cast me an apologetic look, then glanced up at the ceiling, then back at me and, trying to speak calmly, added, “Mahan, please wait for me here. Feel free to read the books or have some more tea. I’ll be a second. I had told a certain dunderhead to wash the windows, and what do you know, the oaf’s shattered them instead! Why is it that some Free Citizens can create unbelievable things, while others can manage to break even a cast iron sphere? With their bare hands! How do you all manage to be so…so…different?”

  Despite his young age, the Jeweler got up with a creak and shuffled over to the ladder — to issue his punishment to the hapless player. I even grew curious who it was who’d messed up so badly, but since the gnome had asked me to wait for him in his room, it was better for me to stay put. It’s hard to believe that Favaz doesn’t have the information I need about how to create the Pendants, so risking my Attractiveness with him right now would be a bad idea.

  I heard the sounds of argument come from upstairs, mixed with a girlish sobbing — the dunderhead turned out to be female. My desire to go take a look grew to such a degree that I even stood up from the table and approached the staircase. Right at the last moment and by sheer force of will, I managed to change course and stopped beside a small bookcase. Since Favaz had granted me the permission to read the volumes on the shelf, then there wouldn’t be anything valuable or useful among them, and yet — in the hopes of overcoming the desire to go upstairs and have a laugh at the hapless girl with the other players — I picked up the first book I came across and began to read it. Myths and Legends of Jewelcrafting. The update had not affected the mechanic of reading literature in Barliona — until you’d read the entire book, it would forever open to the first page and the only way to flip to the next one was to read the entire text. The Imitators were real sticklers for ensuring these rules were followed.

  To my immense surprise, I liked the book. Either Favaz selected the books for his modest collection very carefully, or this work simply resonated with my current state…All I knew was that it was really interesting to read about the great jewelers of the past, who created true masterpieces with their cunning and artistry. How many amazing items had been created only to be lost to the ages! Marvels such as Borgia’s Ring, which the oppressed gnomes presented to the head of the orcs, thereby earning their liberty. Or the Chain of Desires, created by the elves and presented as a gift to the king of the dwarves. To make a long story short, the Chain of Desires only made the desires of the elves come true and as a result the poor dwarves spent several years serving the long-eared folk. Nowadays the dwarves deny this simple historical fact, but a legend wouldn’t lie now would it?

  I had to catch my breath when I saw an illustration of a whimsical ring with a green stone. Tourmellorn — a ring of tourmaline with the symbol fashioned from the mellorn mineral. A ring created by Karmadont for the lord of the elves, who in the end never did accept the dominance of men. It’s only in the present day that the kingdom of the light and dark elves occupies the north of our continent. In bygone times this people lived throughout all of Kalragon, exceeding humans both in terms of population and their artifice. Not wishing to conquer the elves, Karmadont created the Tourmellorn in the hopes of demonstrating that humans could not only fight but create as well — and do so at a level that surpassed the elves. The elves never did get their ring — the caravan that was transporting this artifact was ambushed. The Tourmellorn was lost, forever vanishing from Barliona and becoming one of its more vivid myths.

  I didn’t remember the moment that design mode enveloped me. Simply, a moment came in which I realized that I was in a large, well-lit room, filled with shelves, workbenches, various jeweler’s tools, two furnaces, copies of the items I’d already created and many other things which would make the process of crafting items in Barliona much more pleasant and effective
.

  Looks like along with my updated character, the Corporation had also presented me with the official design mode. After all, I never did complete the quest chain that unlocked it…

  Like hell!

  My sudden desire to craft the Tourmellorn vanished on the spot. I don’t know why, but I became so used to working in my old, gloomy design mode that now I felt incredibly uncomfortable in this well-lit room. It was like I was naked and on stage in front of a large crowd. No doubt there are some who like to show off their bodies, especially if there’s something to show off, but I’m not one of them. This brightly illuminated workshop had everything I needed to create efficiently, even a separate panel for making sketches, but I didn’t actually need any of that. Opening my mailbox (without even having to leave design mode), I began to compose a letter. Let them figure out what to do with me on their own — I want my old design mode back!

  Dear admins, I’d like to bring to your attention that I have stumbled upon a rather embarrassing design mode, now active for my character. I understand very well that it would be a pleasure to do my crafting in such an environment. However, I would strongly prefer that you return my old, dark design mode to me. It is highly unpleasant for me to realize that I have been stripped of the chance to complete the quest chain for becoming a creator. Thank you!

  Re-reading my letter, I sent it to the admins with a mean smirk. Now, whoever’s responsible for me only has one way out — return everything to the way it had been. The Corporation can’t ignore my letter — they’re the very reason that I had become a ‘certain Shaman Mahan.’ If I begin to voice my displeasure, heads might start to roll. And who needs that? No one. And in the same way, they couldn’t disable my design mode in general and force me to complete the quest chain. Who knows when I get around to doing it? Maybe in a year, maybe in two. When there’s time. At the same time, I — as a Jeweler — have the only recipe in Barliona for an item that allows couples to communicate telepathically. Here, the Corp would have to either toss the recipe and inform its playerbase of this, or agree to my conditions. And both options suited me just fine. Anyway you spin it, the Corp didn’t have much of a choice, so they’d have to give me back my initial design mode. After all, I’m ready to fight for it to the bitter end!

  “That’s a good book,” sounded Favaz’s voice, snapping me back to the game. I looked around with surprise and realized that during my cogitations, I had managed to leave design mode and was now standing beside a bookshelf, holding the volume of the Jewelers’ fairy tales in my hand. “It’s too bad that the items described in it are merely the stuff of myths. I would happily study the structure of several of these artifacts and attempt to make a recipe.”

  “Teacher, this book speaks of the Tourmellorn. Where else may I read of this ring?”

  “The Tourmellorn?” the gnome echoed with surprise. “What do you need it for? This ring is useless to humans — oh, I beg your pardon — Dragons. Besides, it’s just a myth, a pretty tale about a master Jeweler of the past.”

  “Experience shows that when it comes to Karmadont, the myths tend to be true. I’m interested in this sentient. Both as an individual who existed, as a Hunter who became an Emperor, as well as a Craftsman who created the Chess Set, the Altarian Falcon, the Tourmellorn, and the three Emperors. What other miracles did Karmadont’s hands conjure?”

  “The Altarian Falcon?” Favaz furrowed his brow, trying to remember something, but then shrugged and muttered: “I’d never even heard of that before…Mahan, I understand your desire, but I have to disappoint you — I don’t have the quest you’re looking for. Perhaps the hermit has the answers you seek. One of our masters told you about him, I believe. Have you visited him yet?”

  That’s right! How had I forgotten about that quest? According to my initial understanding of it, the hermit could be Karmadont himself, since no one knew where the Emperor’s grave actually was. Or whether it exists at all! But, let’s leave these hypothetical theories stand — both of the hermit and of Karmadont — while we continue to pump Favaz for all the info he’s got.

  “Unfortunately, neither before nor after the Cataclysm, have I managed to visit him, but thank you for reminding me. Teacher, I’d like to return to my initial question — is there some way of accelerating the production of the Pendants? Are there perhaps some elixirs, such as your tea, that will increase not only craftsmanship, but the speed of crafting as well?”

  “Elixirs?” The gnome rubbed his chin pensively and stared at the ceiling. “There’s one elixir…but, no, that won’t do…a bit of nonsense, a fairy tale, no more….No, I really don’t think that anything will help.”

  “Please forgive my rudeness but I heard something about a fairy tale. What did you mean?”

  “A perfectly ordinary fairy tale. The Alchemists have spent the last several millennia trying to recreate Merlin’s Potion…to no avail. According to those legends that you hold so dear, this elixir has miraculous effects on craftsmen. What exactly it does remains unclear, but the only documented case of someone quaffing Merlin’s Potion led to the creation of the current Imperial palace. By one man alone. In one day. No one remembers what his name is, but everyone knows that he used Merlin’s Potion — which was given to him by Karmadont.”

  “Again Karmadont?” I blurted out.

  “Hmm, I guess so…yes. Again him,” the gnome said thoughtfully. “The man was an Architect, so the Jewelers didn’t really pay much attention to the affair, but…You know it really is interesting. There’s never been any other mention of Merlin’s Potion, whether before or after. I wonder how the first Emperor acquired it…”

  The gnome fell quiet, following his thoughts into nirvana. I tried to continue our conversation, but Favaz answered me in monosyllables, indicating that it was time for me to get going.

  Trying not to bug the gnome, I again picked up the book about the legendary jewelers and opened it to the page with the Tourmellorn. The ring seemed perfect to me. The desire to enter design mode and try and recreate this masterpiece again began to smolder in my chest, but I made an effort and pushed it away — I didn’t want to craft in the illuminated design mode. Returning the book to its place with a sigh of disappointment, I began to make my exit. However, as I was passing through the workshop, something held me back, something stopped me…The players around me were diligently crafting rings taking no note of their surroundings. Almost all the workbenches were filled with laboring craftsmen — but only almost. Right next to me, an empty workstation winked and nodded at me like some solitary nymphomaniac.

  Realizing that I needed to go meet the hermit and figure out who and what was going on, I approached the table hesitantly, sat down on the wooden bench and placed my hands on the well-scratched surface. The Tourmellorn? No, not right now.

  Design mode almost consumed my mind, turning the surrounding environment into an illuminated room, but I did my best to concentrate. Barliona is a very interesting game. If players are allowed to unlock a skeleton design mode without completing a hundred quests, then it stands to reason that you could use it whenever you felt like it. Even despite the newly unlocked functionality. I simply need to imagine that I’m surrounded by darkness. They couldn’t have cut it off completely!

  But at some point, instead of the dark design mode, the Lovers’ Pendant appeared before my eyes. As I understood it, my subconscious was feeling guilty, reminding me in this manner about the letter that Mr. Kristowski had sent me with a list of the fifty couples who were first in line to receive their Pendants. He’d already arranged with them what they’d do for my clan. The only thing that everyone was now waiting for was the actual item. Only a single Diamond fit in my mail. Serart offered to take the rest into the clan storage vaults. Indeed, my CFO had several times reminded me in the letter that the order had to be filled urgently. What I liked most of all was that I hadn’t received a single call on my amulet. Serart understood perfectly well that if I didn’t feel like doing anything at the moment, then f
orcing me would be pointless, and so he treated me very specifically. His was a considerate approach.

  Using the advantages of the new design mode, I opened the mailbox and projected the letter with its list of fifty pairs. The first group. The player couples who’d decided to grow so close to one another that they were prepared to work for my clan to do so. Fifty pairs — that’s like 150 minutes of office work. Damn it! That’s too long! That’s really too long!

  I opened my mailbox once again, messed around with the settings of the mail daemon and a long list of 87 thousand lines appeared (and vanished in the distance) before my eyes: the complete list of everyone who wanted a Pendant. The enormity of my predicament stunned me. The first lot was but a drop in the ocean in comparison to the main torrent. I had to do something. But what?

  Creating the Pendant was an entirely standard process. I activate the recipe, create a projection of the Diamond, the system processes the stone on its own, breaks it in two halves, polishes it and generates a window with two entry fields for the lovers’ names. Once I enter the names, the Pendants are bound to the players. Then this virtual projection is combined with a real Diamond and the Pendants are complete. There’s no tricks or difficulties here — a rote and lengthy process of forming the binding that takes up three minutes. And the entire time, the Jeweler is little more than a spectator — the system really does everything on its own. It just takes forever to do it!

  Sighing and trying to calm down, I decided to brainstorm the various ways I could solve this problem. The simplest solution was to expedite the binding process. For that I’d need Merlin’s Potion, which I didn’t know how to come by. What else could be done? Start one process and somehow move on to the next one while it’s running. In parallel. The interesting question is how to do this? Or is it even possible? I need to ask Favaz. I think that’s about it. There’s nothing else that could be thought of — the sequence of creating the Pendant was simply too regimented and…Hold on…