Plinto took the Tooth of the Patriarch from his neck and handed it to me majestically. It was obvious how little he wanted to do this, but the Rogue didn’t see another way out. I have to admit that our opponents did not behave in the spirit of arena fighters. Kei-Ten had set up training dummies and was practicing his attacks on them, leveling up one of his stats. Considering that the dummies dodged, twisted and even tried to parry his blows, it wasn’t one of the basic stats either. Methodious, who hadn’t managed to find Plinto, sat down near us and began to level up his Culinary stat. He made a bonfire, pulled a pot and ingredients out of his bag and a fairly pleasant scent of cooking began to spread across the arena. Every once in a while, the Hunter would cast a mocking glance in our direction, without forgetting to stir the food in the process. The outcome of the bout had been decided in our opponents’ minds, so why waste time? Good players never have enough of that resource. Once a minute remained, Kei-Ten and Methodious took up their positions. Even the tiger hunched preparing for a leap and my premonition told me that the ten meters between us wouldn’t pose much of a gap for this monster. Or for the Rogue. He’d come flying through in Sprint without even noticing the sand.
“They’re getting ready,” Plinto was following our opponent’s movements. “At the count of three, get rid of the sand and pour everything you got into defense. One. Two. Now!”
You have been stunned for 60 seconds! Stun decreased to 2 seconds (Patriarch’s Tooth).
You have been paralyzed for 60 seconds! Paralysis decreased to 2 seconds (Patriarch’s Tooth).
You have been…
I stood surrounded by utter chaos watching with astonishment as the Hunter’s pet was fruitlessly trying to break through the green sphere that had appeared around me. Methodious had become Legolas, sending arrows flying with such speed that they formed an unbroken line between him and the same green sphere. Kei-Ten was cursing somewhere behind me, but I didn’t feel like turning to look at him. I was much more interested in the following entry in the list of buffs:
Disruption Field: All damage negated for 15 seconds.
In some mysterious way, the Rogue had managed to stick a bubble on me, granting me fifteen minutes of life. I’d figure out how he got this thing later and why he’d never mentioned it before. At the moment I had a much more entertaining affair to attend to. I clenched and unclenched my fists several time, trying to calm my trembling. Let’s see how good of a Shaman I am! The shields blocked more than two million points of damage, I had eight shields, forty-five seconds and a panel which displayed how much durability each shield had.
I had to hold on…
You have been stunned for 60 seconds! Stun decreased to 2 seconds (Patriarch’s Tooth).
You have been…
In the last seconds of the Plinto’s sphere, I ducked, dodging one of the tiger’s attacks. He went flying right over my head, growling unhappily in the process, his prey escaping his paws. And yet at the same moment, Kei-Ten’s daggers began to strike my shield, while a stream of arrows formed a ribbon between Methodious’s bow and my head. The shield’s Durability went plummeting at a terrifying rate — in a few seconds it had fallen to half. Renewing the protection by 20% durability, I smashed the Rogue with my staff. Zero! No, not zero — I had managed to do several points of damage, but that didn’t stop Kei-Ten. He didn’t notice anything at all, continuing his terrible dance with his daggers. He had even shut his eyes, submerging into some kind of trance. The Rogue was relishing battle, with his strength, emotions and energy. He lived in the battle, he was the battle, he had turned into a true warrior, hypnotizing and demoralizing his opponent.
That’s okay, we’ve got plans too.
A new shield appeared around me and here I forced the Rogue to take several steps back, interrupting his deadly dance. I turned into a Dragon and simply threw him away from my immense four-meter tall torso.
Thunderclap! Signed, sealed, delivered! Other people know how to stun their enemies too.
I won exactly five seconds, no more. Not even that — I won five seconds and took out one-and-a-half opponents — the tiger didn’t have any protection from stun and turned into a pretty statue. For an entire minute. Kei-Ten and Methodious simply tossed their heads, regaining their concentration and coming to, after which our dance of death continued. It looked like the Patriarch’s Tooth, that Plinto was so proud of, wasn’t such a Unique item after all. But I couldn’t help but be pleased with one thing — I had interrupted the Hunter’s ability and now only ordinary arrows were flying in my direction. There were many, and they came in quickly and with lots of force, but they no longer resembled machine gun fire.
A shield! Another one! And another one!
“I’ll help!” sounded Plinto’s shout and I was suddenly left on my own with the Hunter. Kei-Ten stood quietly beside me, with his dagger in the air ready to land another blow — stunned. Plinto, who had left Stealth, was sprinting to the other end of the arena while dodging Methodious’s arrows. Several blue flashes indicated that the Hunter had managed to strike the Rogue several times, yet my shield worked perfectly. I looked at the Patriarch’s Tooth with renewed respect — it turns out that our opponents had a one-time way of avoiding stun while the Tooth worked constantly. I was happy to admit I was wrong. But the surprising thing was that Plinto didn’t bother killing Methodious. He dashed out of the arrows’ range and began to watch as the Level 400+ player turned on poor little me…
A shield!
A sudden silence descended on everything. I opened my eyes wearily, interrupting the casting of another shield and almost started — right in front of me hovered an arrow, a green venom oozing from its barbed point. The shaft was fluttering like a fish pulled out to land, thirsting to continue its flight and impale itself into the detested shield and shatter it, but this was no longer destined to be.
“Time’s up!” The announcer’s voice ended the silence. “Team Kei-Ten/Methodious has done 0 points of damage. Team Mahan/Plinto has done 32 points of damage. The victor has been determined!”
Mahan and Plinto are victorious!
New challenge received…
I collapsed exhausted to the arena floor and began to giggle hysterically. We did it! We were the best! We won by doing a mere 32 points of damage, while my total HP amounted to several hundred thousand! We…
“Give me the Tooth back,” Plinto deadpanned, as if we hadn’t just bested the deadliest duo in the game. He stepped over to me calmly and held out his hand. “You’ve played with it long enough.”
Neither a gesture nor a word from the Rogue suggested any joy at winning the bout — and yet the speed with which he put on the Tooth and his sigh of relief, small but notable, suggested that this person had nerves too. I had only one explanation for what was going on — in fifteen minutes we were due to fight our last bout and Plinto didn’t want to lose his concentration. Agreed, if we let our victory go to our heads, we might accidentally lose through sheer carelessness. We could celebrate later…
“May the strongest among you triumph!”
The fifth duo seeking the incredible jackpot turned out to be a duo of Warriors. Choosing a restriction of Level 200, they decided to throw us off guard with dodges and feints that would make it difficult for us to target and focus them.
Silly rabbits…
Quicksand.
Thunderclap.
Cancel quicksand.
“Hold on, Plinto!” I managed to yell before the Rogue fell upon the Warriors. “Not like that!”
“Not like what?” Utter bafflement sounded in Plinto’s voice. “What, do you want to duke it out with them one on one?”
“You misunderstood me,” I hurried to calm my partner. What if he decides that I lost my mind a bit during the last bout and haven’t recovered from it yet? I quickly produced the ten fireworks I had in my bag and showed them to Plinto. “We have this lovely little trick at our disposal! Let’s see how it works, what do you say?”
“Monsieur
knows how to get his kicks!” a cruel smirk appeared on Plinto’s face. “You take the one on the right. Want to bet whose flies up higher?”
A combatant has left the arena and his team is disqualified. Team Mahan/Plinto are victorious!
New property acquired: The Citadel of the Solar Wind (Level 34).
“Good day, Master Mahan!” As soon as the bout ended, a semitransparent creature that resembled at once a monkey, a person and god-knows-what else appeared before us. It took several more words for me to understand that I was looking at the Celestial equivalent of the Herald, or, as they like to say in those climes, a Rehadji.
“Allow me congratulate you on your new, marvelous castle. I have been sent by the Emperor to collect taxes on your new property. Taking into account the geopolitical position of the castle, the owner’s relationship to your clan as well as the level of the castle, the amount adds up to sixty-eight million gold. Two million for each level. There are two methods of payment — a one-time sum, subject to a 5% discount, or a monthly payment. Which of these methods do you prefer?”
“If you are unable to make payment,” the Rehadji went on, accurately apprising my confusion as an unwillingness to part with such an immense sum. Thanks to our arena wagers I had the money, but I saw no point in maintaining a castle in enemy territory. I couldn’t ensure an adequate defense for the castle which would allow just about anyone to raze my property from Level 34 to Level 1, making me lose sixty million in the process…Stacey would not look kindly on such expenditures of the family savings. “Or you do not wish to do so, you will be granted a stay of two months during which you can sell the castle at auction. No one wishes to compel you to do anything. The castle will be sold and you will receive half of the proceeds. Everything is quite simple, transparent and lawful. Please make your decision!”
“Can the castle be transported to our continent?” Plinto came to my aid.
“The answer is a negative, Master Plinto the Bloodied,” the Rehadji answered with a bow, unfazed by the Rogue’s lack of tact. “This castle does not have a means of teleportation.”
“Does that mean that other castles do?”
“I am not authorized to discuss this question. My goal is to determine whether Master Mahan will take ownership of his property or whether he prefers to put the castle up for auction.”
“Can I make this decision a little later?” I inquired, wishing to discuss this with Stacey. Maybe the Solar Wind would come in handy…
“I’m sorry,” the Rehadji shook his head negatively. “If I do not receive an answer in five minutes, the castle will be sent to auction. Such are the rules, Master Mahan. See clause…”
“If I take ownership of the castle, can I have a moving service move everything in it to Altameda?” A cute idea suddenly occurred to me. Any further growth for Altameda had to be effected through its decorations, which I didn’t want to waste my time and resources on. However! If I had a Level 34 castle at my disposal, then no one could keep me from plundering it as much as I liked! If I set up an auction, the castle will go straight back to Bihan, who’ll buy it for a few gold! Like hell! I would take the castle apart piece by piece, and stuff my vaults full of Imperial Stone and Oak. Loot’s loot after all!
“Of course such a service is available,” the Rehadji replied. “The price is equivalent to 2% of the cost of the transported materials, but no more than ten million. Have you made your decision?”
“I have. I will take the castle. Please withdraw the money from my personal account.”
“The hell do you need that castle for?” Plinto frowned as soon as we were left on our own.
Indicating that I’d answer him when I got the chance, I got out an amulet and dialed Stacey.
“Stacey, listen…”
“You won! Danny, you won!” The torrent of joy emanating from the amulet forced me to smile. Pleasing a wonderful woman is always nice, and when that woman is your wife, it’s twice as nice.
“Hang on, Stacey! We can talk about it at home. I have Plinto here. I have a favor to ask — I need to demolish the Solar Wind. Will you arrange it?”
“I’m all attention,” the joy and happiness vanished in an instant. I was speaking to a veteran of all sorts of intrigues, ready to set out against her foe yet again.
“YEEEAAAH!!! WHOOO!!! THAT’S HIM!!!” roared a huge crowd of players as soon as we stepped out of the arena. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. The sea of players reached to the walls of Altameda. It was as though the players of the entire continent had assembled here and were trying to out-yell each other. Above the players’ heads, I could see a projection of myself peering with shock into the distance: The Mages had provided a view of the action to the distant parts of the crowd. The guards were instilling some sense of order, forming passages in this sea of people and allowing the players to move among the buildings, yet beyond the passages an utter hell reigned. This was a terrifying mob.
“You managed to surprise me,” Geranika appeared beside me. Looking at the monstrous crowd, he smirked and pointed at the players: “Do you still insist that they aren’t a herd of sheep? Roaring, screaming, seeking revelation from their herd leader…A revolting mass of flesh! Who would call this creature a sentient?” Geranika made a motion and the projection of a mad, raving, hollering orc appeared several feet before us. The name above his head suggested that I was looking at a player, but his behavior made me have my doubts. The orc was shaking his head like there were voices in it, he was screaming, waving his arms in the air, sputtering with spit, and yet the scariest part of him were his eyes — they were insane.
“Only a sheep in a herd would consider being near its herd leader the highest blessing. Only so it could later tell its children about this ‘epic’ moment. You can be proud. This will be remembered for years to come. Beasts…”
I had nothing to say to Geranika’s pronouncements. On the one hand, I couldn’t permit an NPC to insult living players, and yet on the other…The projection Geranika had shown me was worth more than a thousand words. It really was quite a stretch to call these creatures humans. It was as if they had won in the arena instead of Plinto and I. Of course, it was possible that the rioting players had won a lot of money in the betting, but even that didn’t justify the way they were behaving. Rational people don’t behave this way.
“It’s time for us to go,” Geranika offered his hand without waiting for my reply. “The Pryke Copper Mine awaits.”
“Plinto, launch Altameda and give this amulet to Stacey,” I handed the communications device to the Rogue beside me.
“Launch?” I heard Geranika’s surprised question, before the world around me turned into roiling fog. This jump didn’t resemble teleportation. There had been no portal, shimmering or otherwise. Instead, a loading bar appeared, which in Barliona indicates that the location you’re headed to, has never been visited before and is being loaded for the first time. Does this mean that the mines aren’t on the main game servers? That can’t be — my creation of the Orc Warriors from the Karmadont Chess Set had been announced to the entire game world. What’s going on here?
“I will wait for you here,” boomed Geranika, when the world around me came back into existence. The Lord of Shadow folded his arms across his chest, proudly raised his head and turned into a statue of the captain of some ancient ship, headed straight into the storm. No one and nothing could distract this captain, least of all the squad of orc guards pointing their pikes at us. The NPCs’ faces betrayed such deep revulsion that I too adopted my most implacable face. I wasn’t about to get emotional in front of some Imitators of the penitentiary system. The system had had three months to see plenty of my emotions as it stood. Enough.
“The boss is expecting you, minion of Shadow,” one of the guards seethed with difficulty. Tension filled the air around us. I was hated. Purely, openly and whole-heartedly. You know, I was even enjoying this — I was tired of being a goody two-shoes.
“Just give me a reason,” the guard
frothed, prodding me with his pike in the back. In my view, this is going too far. Whatever feelings the devs had coded into the NPC, there should always be a clear line between the game world and how the player feels in it. When the game starts causing discomfort, it ceases being a game. People don’t submerge themselves in Barliona for this — they have enough troubles in the real world.
“I didn’t come here to play some two-bit part!” I yelled up into the sky, knowing full well that the game’s moderators were watching my every word and movement. A player couldn’t just wander into the mines just like that. “I request that you disable this physical coercion! My presence here has been approved by the administrators!”
To be honest, I didn’t really expect someone to be listening to me, much less a response. My three months in the mines had dispelled any rosy conceptions I had about this camp among the cliffs, but the desire for justice triumphed over logic and reason. I’m not here to feel this NPC’s hatred on my own body.
We reached the administration facilities without further incident. All of the convicts were in the mine, the guards were there too and I only tarried a bit at the smithy. However, instead of Rine — that whimsical gnome — I found a world-weary dwarf at the forge. A practically square torso, arms the girth of my legs, a terrible scar cleft half his face in half and passed through where the dwarf’s right eye had been, watery gray hair, sooty chain mail — this creature bore no resemblance to Rine. Our eyes met. The dwarf frowned like he’d seen a heap of manure, spat and went on hammering the ingot on his anvil, having expelled me from his thoughts.
“Where’s Rine?” I asked the guard escorting me. It took a few moments to understand that no answer would be forthcoming. The guard merely smirked and indicated the administration building with his pike. We headed in that direction. When I get to the bottom of all my other problems, I’ll need to figure out what had happened to this NPC. If he hadn’t been erased, which was unlikely since he had a granddaughter and therefore a concrete history in the game’s lore, I’ll need to recruit the gnome to work for me. Smiths of his abilities don’t grow on trees.
Clans War Page 33