Steel Wolves of Craedia (Realm of Arkon, Book 3) (22 page)

BOOK: Steel Wolves of Craedia (Realm of Arkon, Book 3)
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The end result turned out pretty interesting—Vaessa was suddenly capable of controlling up to fifteen skeletons or zombies, or three bonehounds, or two reapings. Her father's dagger doubled the effectiveness of spells from the school of Darkness, bringing the creatures she summoned to almost the same level as their mistress. Taking into account a fifteen percent increase to their constitution and all resistances, and a twenty percent increase to damage output, my clan had acquired quite a powerful fighter in Vaessa, practically our own mini boss. The remaining points went into an advanced Spear of Darkness and two curses, one of which increased all physical and magic damage dealt to the target, and the other decreased the target's resistance to Dark magic by the same amount.

As I was allocating Vaessa's talents and stats, I actually felt a little annoyed. Up until today I had thought that my unique build put me head and shoulders above any players I might encounter in the upper realm... But now, seeing how a single epic dagger could transform a necromancer, I realized how gravely mistaken I was about my power and singularity. No doubt, I still had advantages over her, mobility being the main one as Vaessa's Jump had a far longer cooldown at two minutes. If we met on in battle, I would most likely succeed in finishing her off before her hounds ripped me to pieces, but what if there were two necromancers? And what other epics were scattered around this world? After all, there were players above who had bought numerous epics in spite of their exorbitant price; these folks would make fearsome opponents on account of their gear alone. On the other hand, there were certain downsides to possessing such objects, despite their indisputable upsides. Residents of the planet Earth were envious and greedy by nature. Therefore, a person rocking a bunch of epics had to look over their shoulder far more than anybody else. No longer was the Log Out button there to save you, and if caught, there was only so much torture you could endure before agreeing to give up all your earthly possessions. That said, it was safe to assume that a person with the wherewithal to purchase even one epic piece of equipment wasn't an idiot by default. As a rule, idiots simply didn't have that kind of money.

Silence of the Great Darkness
, the special ability the necromancer's daughter sought to silence Nerghall with, was a reward from Celphata for faithful service, just as her father had at one time been awarded the privilege of summoning the goddess. The ability didn't disappear when she'd joined the clan, so I set to studying it.

 

Silence of the Great Darkness.

5,000 mana.

Instant cast.

         Cooldown: 120 hours.

Minimum level: 200.

Range: 60 yards.

Prevents any creature up to level 600 from using their main abilities for 300 seconds.

 

I didn't believe in coincidences—there was a reason the goddess had given her adherent this ability! Could everything in this world really be predetermined? Nonsense! Though the list of suspects in the theft of the book of prophecies had just increased by one. It appeared that someone really didn't want me to read this book. Or was I getting too big a head, thinking everything revolved around me? What if whoever had snatched book from the library didn't give a damn about me? There were plenty of other prominent characters in the princedom. I could spend a month speculating wildly, which was precisely why I shouldn't do it. As for the ability, I hadn't pinned my hopes on it before simply because I didn't know about it. And I wasn't going to start now. What were five minutes in the context of twelve hours that it would take to bring down the Ancient Beast? Still, it wasn't a bad ace to have up one's sleeve—who knew what other monsters our clan would encounter where the ability might come in handy?

It was time to go. As I gazed at the woman convulsing slightly in her sleep, I realized just how exhausted I was. A thought flashed in my mind to carry the demoness to the couch and lie down next to her for the night. I chuckled to myself, admiring the sleeping beauty, then covered her with a wool blanket and left her abode, shutting the door behind me. 

 

Reece was sitting on the lip of a fountain, feeding the fish. His symmetrical face was still and ruminative. The kid wasn't wearing any armor. Like me, he must have taken it off upon our arrival to the city.

"Ashberry," the mage showed me the berries lying in his open palm, the lone streetlight reflecting in his eyes. "Once I tried feeding these fishies bread, and Vaessa wasn't happy. Apparently, bread is bad for the water," he sighed, tossing the remaining berries into the fountain. "Then again, the magus was rarely happy about anything. Ever."

"Your father was one of the barbarians that used to come to the princedom," I sat down next to him, a hand on my scabbard to hold it steady, and took out my pipe. "She doesn't know his name—your mother was good at keeping secrets. One of the local merchants might know, or—"

"Nobody else in Xantarra would know," the mage shook his head. "But we're not going to be stuck in the princedom forever, are we? The curse
will
be lifted at some point."

 

You've completed the quest: Father's Legacy I.

 

You've accessed the quest: Father's Legacy II.

Quest type: unique.

Help Reece find his father.

Reward: experience, unknown.

 

"All things must end," I mused in support, accepting the quest. "The question is when..."

"How is she?" the mage gestured up at the lit window on level five.

"She's fine. Said to tell you she's not at all angry with you."

"I really didn't mean to upset her then," the mage looked down at his feet. "I only wanted what's best..."

"No doubt. The road to the Gray Frontier is paved with good intentions," I modified the classic adage. Though the Netherworld would probably be a fairer comparison, I had a reputation to protect here, so let the habitat of the undead serve as Arkon's version of hell.

"She was a young beautiful woman, you see, but her job—"

"Say no more," I cut him off, seeing how the memories pained him. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're sitting here?"

"We were going to visit the Bellflower, weren't we?" the mage smirked. "You said yourself we only had a few days in the city. Better spend our time wisely... I'll apologize to Vaessa tomorrow.
If
I can muster up the courage."

"No rush, you can apologize the day after, too," I stood up. "You'll be seeing a lot more of each other now. Very well, take me to the local nest of debauchery and sin."

"What?" Reece blinked, suddenly very still.

"I said, let's go to
The Pink Bellflower
," I explained with a sigh.

"I'm not a moron, dar, I know exactly what you said. But what did you mean about us seeing a lot more of each other?"

"Like you said, you're not a moron. You know exactly what I meant."

"You mean to tell me you've managed to convince the princedom's finest mage to join our clan?" the kid's eyes lit up with a mix of shock and awe. "Not even Gorm had ever gotten her to swear fealty..."

"I didn't need to convince her of anything," I shrugged. "She has her own reasons for joining us. She's desperate to take part in the killing of the Twice Cursed god's ghastly pet."

"She had reasons to agree to head up the free mages' guild, too," Reece gave a stunned shake of the head. "And she did it without swearing an oath to them. You don't know her, dar... You wouldn't have refused her request to simply accompany us, would you?"

"No."

"Exactly," the young man rose to his feet. "The gods walk with you, Krian, and I would bet all my future fortune that the magus' decision to join us is no accident."

The entire way to the brothel the mage seemed pensive and didn't utter another word.

 

 

Chapter 9

 

For the majority of people in positions of leadership, their main priority is climbing the career ladder in order to eventually assume the very top spot in their organization. As a rule, those who aspire to this goal see only the external aspects of the leader's job. They see the power and the prestige, and don't even consider the other side of holding such a high post.

Loneliness. The very nature of being at the top separates a person from others, leaving him without any friends in his own organization. Unlike his subordinates, when facing difficult problems he's forced to make individual decisions. Any leader is devoid of friendly support. He has no one to share his thoughts with, no one with whom to have a heart-to-heart. His office is essentially the last line of defense against problems threatening the company. And if deputy directors can always go to the director and ask for help, the director himself has nowhere to go and no one to ask for help. As the face of the organization, you are required to not only make the right decisions, but also bear direct and sole responsibility for any and all consequences. And when said consequences could mean the demise of hundreds of intelligent creatures you've come to genuinely care for, the commander's burden becomes almost too heavy to bear.

I took a deep drag, followed by a few swigs from the flask lying near me on the grass, and surveyed our clan's campsite. Everything seemed in order: sentries at their post, horses stabled and fed. A fragrant aroma emanated from the direction of the bonfires—the troops were cooking chowder. After ordering an overnight stop on the bank of a small river, and bidding Elnar to oversee the proceedings, I'd settled under one of the many trees with my pipe. Resting several feet to my right was Gloom, bathed and sated, his ears twitching comically. As if sensing his master's mood, the boar hadn't gone about his usual tribute-exacting rounds. Instead, he'd trotted over to me, shoving his snout into my shoulder and blasting me with his breath, growled something vaguely encouraging and tumbled down next to me. The demons were in good spirits despite their exhaustion following a long day's journey, as is often the case when the worst is behind you.

Everyone had split into groups: Salta, sitting on a log near one of the bonfires, was explaining something to her archers; Aritor was talking to Zara; Iam was stretched out on the grass, his head in Reena's lap as the woman ran her fingers through his hair with a blissful smile. Even Reece and Vaessa were off on their own, drawing strange symbols on the ground and gesticulating wildly at one another. It was as if some unseen being had drawn a circle ten yards in diameter with me at the center that nobody save for Gloom dared to enter.

Perhaps I wouldn't be feeling so alone if I had someone close at my side. Alas, Alyona and Max weren't anywhere near, and I never did find a girlfriend. Sharing my worries with my troops was out of the question—though they would surely listen, maybe even try to understand, it just wasn't the right move. I couldn't show weakness, couldn't shake their confidence. Let them keep thinking that their commander was as poised and positive as ever. 

"Why aren't you eating?" immersed in my thoughts, I hadn't even noticed Salta approach. The archeress was looking at me thoughtfully, her head cocked to the side, and holding a steaming pot.

"I'm not hungry," I said. 

"You need to eat, Krian," the demoness handed me the chowder. "Everybody needs to eat."

Not wanting to argue, I took the pot from her, fished in my bag for some bread and a spoon, and started on the dinner. What I liked about the local fish was that it had virtually no small bones, which had always been my biggest gripe with fish in the real world. The large chunks swimming in the pot tasted just like sturgeon, at least the way I remembered it. Interestingly, sturgeon was almost as rare in the game as it was in the real world, and just as pricey. Rumor had it these things were the result of Greenpeace putting pressure on the game's developers, and nobody wanted to mess with Greenpeace, if only to avoid bad PR. Supposedly the reasoning was to not let mankind forget the many endangered species in our own, real rather than virtual backyard. I didn't know if the patch had changed anything, but so far Ithele had been generous with her sturgeon, and it didn't hurt that my clan had several members whose fishing skill was pushing two hundred. 

"Did I do something wrong?" Salta took a seat on the grass next to me. Wrapping her knees with both hands, she looked me straight in the eye. "You're upset with me, aren't you?"

"A little," I said, figuring there was no point in denying it. "It's just jealousy. Caught me by surprise, seeing you and James hit it off like that," putting aside the empty pot, I looked up at her sheepishly. "Don't mind me, it'll pass."

"How else should it be when two intelligent creatures see that they're a suitable match?" the girl's eyes flashed with surprise. "I didn't have that with you, for example. I was only hoping that I was a good match for you."

"You could have played hard to get or something..." I grumbled, feeling like a complete idiot, and looked away. 

"Why?" the demoness looked astonished. "So he'd think I was out of my mind? You already know my temperament! Is that not enough of a handicap?"

"Where I come from," I nodded up at the sky, "not many would agree with you. For many intelligent creatures, it's common for a girl to drive a guy a little crazy first, and only then..."

BOOK: Steel Wolves of Craedia (Realm of Arkon, Book 3)
4.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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