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A Trap for the Potentate Page 5
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But they would need to get here, to a nameless oasis that was quite far from large cities, so a real problem arose of how to get the players here in less than a day. My orcs had taken a whole night and practically the entire next day to get here from Dotur-Khawe, the city of dwarves. And sure, mounted players could move faster, but they'd still need many hours to reach us. Although... there was also the Legion of Steel, the strongest clan in Boundless Realm and also one of the richest. They had five fleet-winged Silver Pegasuses, so they could get to this oasis from Dotur-Khawe quite quickly. And moreover, the Legion of Steel still had teleportation scrolls to the city of dwarves and the Prika Mine, where they had guarded the place I had reentered the game.
I had the contact information for a representative of the Legion of Steel, Alexander the Great3st, a level-230 Priest of the Sun, who had offered to help my Amra during the great hunt. I wrote a paid message to him with a description of the unique quest. I wasn't really expecting any answer before morning, so it caught me by surprise when a magical purple messenger devil appeared in the cave a few minutes later, handing me a scroll that read:
“It might be of interest, but I need to gather info about the quest and talk with the clan leader. Don't sell your five slots to any other players. My phone number is down there. Call me in twenty minutes, and I'll tell you my answer.
Alexander the Great3st. Human. Level-231 Priest of the Sun [LEGION]”
* * *
The telephone conversation was surprisingly short. He was of a quite advanced age, based on his creaky voice. Instead of greeting me, he got right to business and asked just one question: “What do you want in exchange for the quest?” Trying not to betray my excitement with my voice, I named a few wishes: food for three hundred hungry orcs delivered to the middle of the desert, as much of a map of the river Styx as the Legion of Steel had, and Ifrit Hearts, at least two, and maybe more.
The Ifrit Hearts were a last-minute addition, and I was expecting negotiation or some kind of limiting conditions, but he calmly heard out my demands and answered shortly that the Legion of Steel agreed. From what I understood, the powerful clan had all kinds of alchemical ingredients in its storage rooms, so he had no doubt there would be ifrit hearts.
In the end, the old man asked me for the coordinates and answered after a few minutes of silence that a Silver-Pegasus-rider would reach us in an hour and a half, and he would activate a portal scroll for the other players to come through.
When I came back into the game and told my sister the results of the conversation, Valerianna was very unhappy:
“Tim, it was very stupid of you to reveal our interest in Ifrit Hearts! I was gonna dig through the auction announcements from various regions tomorrow morning or even tonight to look for them! Now, it's no use. If there was anything there for an acceptable price before, it's probably already gone... The Legion of Steel, and all other TOP clans have very strong analysts. Naturally, your unexpected interest in such a resource won't have slipped past their attention, and the best alchemists and crafters of the Legion of Steel are probably already studying them for hidden properties. Our secret, if it hasn't been uncovered yet, will stop being a mystery to the Legion of Steel very soon, after which all Ifrit Hearts on all three continents of Boundless Realm will be bought up in a matter of minutes!”
My sister was probably right about the missed opportunity. Although, on the other hand, I had chosen to receive a couple of the alchemy ingredients for certain instead of a hypothetical chance to find more later at auction. First of all, there was no guarantee that there even were more than two Ifrit Hearts at auction, much less that we could win them. Second, once again, we were not insured against the possibility that our interest in the ingredient might give rise to stubborn research into them by big clans, and then we would be left looking all the more foolish. Overall, I preferred one in the hand to two in the bush.
While the orcs carefully sorted through the heaps of bones and garbage, removing everything valuable from the ifrit cave, Taisha my sister and I returned to the tent encampment. VIXEN came down from the sky, set a barely living level-21 Desert Monitor at my feet and stretched out her long neck in anticipation of her portion.
“Who's my pretty little girl? You never let your master starve or get thirsty!” I said, stroking the soft scaly skin under the wyvern’s lower jaw. The flying snake lied down on her belly and even slightly closed her eyelids, entirely dissolving in bliss and delight.
There were no other people looking, so I killed her prey with a Vampire Bite.
Experience received: 105 Exp.
Achievement unlocked: Taste Tester (43/1000)
Racial ability improved: Taste for Blood (Gives +1% to all damage dealt for each unique creature killed with Vampire Bite. Current bonus: 25%)
After equipping the Claw of Fenrir, my Strength had grown to 294, meaning I could deal from 367 to 2202 units of damage with a single bite. Now, I could easily take down a player or monster of equal level, even if I could only get one move off. And my over fifteen hundred Endurance Points meant my Goblin Vampire could bite enemies nearly without end.
I tore the Desert Monitor's body in half with my bare hands. I fed one half to the hungry wolves of the Gray Pack, and brought the other to the unfortunate chefs, who were still boiling their unappetizing, disgusting smelling stew in the vain hope of turning it into something edible. The wild orcs didn't throw the bloody meat into their pot, or even roast it over the fire, tearing it to pieces and devouring it raw on the spot. I'll admit, that shook me:
“On White Shark, there was a decent chef, who knew how to cook. Where'd he go?” I asked my brutes.
“Well Captain, our cook died during the sea battle with the undying!” one of the orcs told me, wiping his bloodied toothy maw with the backside of his hand.
Alright... Well, the idea of structuring and organizing this collection of wild cutthroats had long been maturing in my mind. I suppose the time had come. I demanded that the orcs pour out the stinking mess they were boiling in their pot somewhere far away from camp, and invited First Mate Ziabash Hardy and Shaman Ghuu over to the fire.
* * *
“Captain, I don't understand. You want to turn our pirate crew into a regular army?” Ziabash Hardy asked, not too happy, and stroking the back of his head with a huge paw.
“You might say that,” I answered, agreeing with his assessment of my plans. “Any orc is bigger, stronger and fiercer than a warrior from the human or elvish race. But when it comes to big groups or armies, humans defeat the orcs time and again, driving them from their lands and capturing their cities!”
Ziabash Hardy bared his teeth and snarled, but I was insistent:
“That is the truth, however bitter you may find it. Tell me of even one large battle orcs have won against humans. Not some raid on yawning farmhands or a sluggish wagon train, but a real battle between two armies. What, none come to mind? No surprise there, seeing how no such examples exist! People, weaker creatures by nature, have always won due to their strict discipline, good weapons and armor, better training and coordination.”
“But orcs are naturally different, not like people,” the shaman objected. “People are led by their aristocratic families and are trickier and less honorable. They’re always first to enslave their brothers and sisters and eliminate pretenders including their own parents. Human commanders always stand behind their divisions and send others to die. Orcs are much more honest in that regard. Orcs have braver and stronger leaders, who have earned respect through their feats on the battlefield, and not by the ancient origins of their family. Our commanders always go in the first rows, setting an example to others with their bravery and...”
“Are the first to die in battle, leaving their army dejected and rudderless...” I said, finishing the shaman's ardent speech.
Shaman Ghuu choked mid-word and stopped, forced to admit I was right after a pause. I then continued:
“We won't have the kind of army that fights
battles for far-off kings and spills its own blood for others and barely comprehensible interests. Orcish warriors, honest and direct, need a clear and easily comprehensible goal. All of our fighters need to know what they personally stand to gain when the whole group completes a mission. And everyone needs to understand exactly what they must do for victory. So, I will no longer stand to see my fierce and strong soldiers forced to make their own food, hunt their own meat, pitch their own tents and wash and mend their own garb. This must be done by skilled individuals with the proper training!”
Foreman skill increased to level 28!
For the first time, I saw a little fire of curiosity light in the eyes of my orcs. My words managed to break through the ice of doubt and conservatism. For the first time, the pirate cutthroats started imagining a different future than burials at sea. My first mate, shaman and the other orcs gathering in greater and greater number around our fire were carefully listening to their captain. I needed to take advantage of this moment and gradually lead the savages to the idea that we needed to make a dangerous voyage up the river of death.
“I want to build a strong and organized squadron, capable of surviving in this cruel world and holding its own under any circumstances. A trained, brave and audacious team that reacts in good time to changes around it. One where everyone is certain of their place in formation: scouts to find the way, soldiers to cut down hordes of enemies, healers to treat the wounded, mages to support with their magic, and decent cooks to make tasty food.”
When they heard me talk about food, I heard the gnashing of teeth and moaning of hungry stomachs. Good, let the pirates think again that the present state of things was utterly unacceptable, and needed to be changed.
“In this world, which the undying call Boundless Realm, the very rarest and most valuable trophies are found far from the beaten path, and getting to them is very difficult indeed. But only there can one find a good haul of truly valuable loot, the kind that can provide for us all! I want us to have stories we can tell our children and grandchildren over a mug of foamy beer with pride. But now, we merely make do with pitiful scraps from poor fisherman and freight ships that can barely make ends meet themselves!”
“Captain, that's all well and good, of course. But I'd like to know: where can we find places with such rich bounty?” Ziabash Hardy asked.
“It isn’t too hard to find out...” I said, beginning to answer and immediately noticing silence descend around me. The orcs, it seemed, even stopped breathing and tried not to say a single word. “The closest such magical location is past this desert up a black dead river, which is known by the name of Styx. Rumor has it that there is unheard of treasure hidden in those wild and terrifying places. But getting there will be hard, and you still aren't ready for such severe trials!”
I heard many orcs give a dismayed, insulted roar. The whole pirate crew thought their captain shouldn't be doubting their strength and capability. But I just chuckled, twisting up my lips:
“Today, just one lone ifrit was enough to put the fear of god in you. That creature sent a group of my best warriors running on their heels! That’s where you’re at now! But around the upper reaches of the Styx, the monsters are quite a bit scarier and more dangerous than some mere ifrit! So, before heading off somewhere, you must be trained and organized. And also, you all need good armor and weapons. I've already paid for them, and the galley Tipsy Albatross, loaded with supplies, will reach the Styx any day now. We will meet them there. But first of all, you need to be fed. My crew deserves not to walk in hunger! So, your Captain paid some undying to come here to the very center of the hot desert, and bring you tasty food and strong drink! Before sunup, I swear by my green ears that you will all be full and content with life!”
Trading skill increased to level 19!
Foreman skill increased to level 29!
Foreman skill increased to level 30!
Their elated screams made my sensitive goblin ears nearly fall off. My crew had never before experience such admiration and adoration of a captain! And the most pleasant part was that, when the din slightly abated, my sister jumped up and pointed her hand at a barely visible bright spot in the starry night sky:
“There's the undying rider now! Put more wood on the fire so he'll notice us!!!”
* * *
The arrival of the Legion of Steel was brilliant and impressive. A level-290 scout flew overhead on a huge Silver Pegasus and, without even landing, threw down a pulsating object that opened a large ovular portal right on the ground. From the bright, unbearably shining gates poured a huge river of terrifying soldiers encased in armor, mages in bright robes, severe necromancers and priests chanting mantras. And at that, they were all riding the most unimaginable mounts and surrounded by an innumerable variety of pets. I didn't see anyone at a level lower than two hundred. I even saw some characters over 300. The last to flitter out of the already flagging portal were four TOP players of the Legion of Steel astride Silver Pegasuses.
I didn’t think the whole clan was represented here, probably just the rapid response force. But even so, the all-crushing concentrated might that poured into our small patch of the Great Desert in a matter of seconds could make even the demons and gods of Boundless Realm shiver. I don't know for whose benefit all this magnificent splendor had been organized, but even the wildest orcs were impressed. My brutes started crawling out of their tents, crowding up around the edge of the oasis, commenting vividly on the never-before-seen spectacle. But none of the pirates was afraid. The forces were so incredibly mismatched that the thought of conflict didn’t even cross their minds.
The Legion of Steel got into formation three hundred meters from the oasis. The four Silver Pegasuses landed in front of the stock-still rows of high-level players, and the leaders of the clan hopped off of them. Overcoming a slight timidity, I ordered my orcs to stay in place, then moved out on the shaggy icy-white Fimbulthul, level-58 Mythical Hound. Behind me came the Gray Pack in full force: Akella, Lobo and White Fang, the level-38 Hardened Forest Wolves, Blanca the level-37 she-wolf, and Darius and Darina, two level-32 Wargs.
Successful Perception check
Experience received: 400 Exp.
The nighttime breeze carried the quiet conversation of the clan leaders to my keen ears. They were discussing my big-eared Goblin Herbalist:
“Seems to have quite a lot of pets for one player, and not the type you’d expect.”
“Mhm. An Herbalist really shouldn't have that many.”
“And notice: the pets are of a higher level than they should be.”
“Cheater?”
“He's either a cheater, or the Boundless Realm Corporation fudges the numbers for their testers.”
They thought I was a cheater! I didn’t like that, but during the Great Hunt, I saw all kinds of accusations and insults thrown my way! And in large part, I didn't care what other players thought of me, even if they were world-famous stars from the very strongest clan in the game. Leaving the Gray Pack ten steps from the players, I jumped onto the sand from my huge white hound and read their information:
Kristina Mozzi [LEGION]
Human
Level-332 Valkyrie
Leon Shadow_Hunter [LEGION]
Drow Elf
Level-305 Assassin
Violetta Bestia [LEGION]
Light Elf
Level-323 Chaos Mage
Antonio de_Pirienne [LEGION]
Human
Level-317 Inquisitor
Strange. I was sure I’d read on the forum that the leader of the Legion of Steel was a player named Till Quick_Fingers, a level 350+ Thief, the deadliest and highest-level player on the Southern Continent. And he was also supposedly in possession of one of the five Silver Pegasuses, which the Legion of Steel had won in a large PvP clan tournament. All five Pegasuses were accounted for, though. Four were on the ground, and the fifth was still being ridden by the scout, spinning circles in the night sky. But none of the five riders fit the descrip
tion of the clan leader. Maybe he was using Veil to hide his real name?
After all, I had read about the big clan tournament and its victors... And here my memory obligingly provided me the names and classes of the lucky prizewinners. There was definitely no Inquisitor among them.
“Till Quick_Fingers, I presume,” I said with a bow, turning to the Inquisitor standing to the far right.
Veil skill increased to level 14!
Based on the Inquisitor's reaction, I already knew I wasn't wrong. The player exchanged surprised glances with his companions, but they just shrugged their shoulders. A moment later, instead of the severe old Inquisitor, whose eyes burned with a fanatic fire, I saw a tall man in clothing the color of a moonless night, his face obscured by a hood.
Till Quick_Fingers [LEGION]
Human
Level-357 Thief
Together with their master, the pets also changed appearance. Instead of the trio of ghastly looking hellhounds, I now saw a dark shaggy spider the height of a person, a little gremlin with a miniature crossbow and a translucent boy ghost, barely visible in the dark.
“Have you found the lamp yet?” the Chaos Magess joined the conversation, immediately confirming my sister’s guess.
“We found eighteen lamps. We don’t know which it is yet. But we put them all in a row next to the cave exit. We haven’t touched them with our bare hands.”