"Twenty-eight seconds!" Tarlin waited for me to get bored of looking at my virtual doll, then continued to roast me. "Two hundred meters in twenty-eight seconds! Were you running on all fours?"
"I can't go any faster, I need to train," I said honestly. In the real world, honesty and self-criticism were an excellent way to disarm your opponent. Why shouldn't it work in Barliona?
"So what are you doing here when the training camp's empty?" The instructor abruptly changed the course of the conversation. Now I was guilty of not training. Which was better than being seen as a weakling.
"Can you begin by enlightening the unenlightened?" I stuck to my guns. "Which course is meant for newbies? I don't want to turn up at the advanced one and have everyone die laughing at my failure. Who would be responsible for their deaths?"
"You're going to retch like a pregnant tortoise on the first one anyway." The impervious instructor waved a hand in the direction of the assault course. "It's that way. The instructor's name is master Gurt. Muster is every six hours. Latecomers and no-shows take a dive into the Abyss. You'll be living in this barrack. Go and register, then get training, newbie. I don't want to see you until you've completed the course with full marks.
Task received: Step 1. Start of training
Description: Class-specific task. Complete newbie assault course. Minimum completion score: 7 out of 10. Completion time unlimited.
Reward:
* Experience +5
* Reputation with Light of Barliona faction +1
* Access to next training step
* Bonus for course completion with full marks: +1 to all main characteristics
First up I went to check out the barrack. It was almost empty, only one of the twenty bunks occupied. The game obligingly offered me the choice of the free ones, and since I wasn't planning to spend the night in Barliona, I put my hand on the bed closest to the exit. I froze. Only now did it strike me how easy it was to walk on hooves; no less so than on feet. And I might have been born with a tail. Focusing on my glutes, I wiggled my buttocks. A good looking lad! Pfft, a good tail, and it would come in handy in the game, as a third lower limb or an extra argument in a fistfight. The main thing was to tense the right buttock at the right time. Imagining my backside clenching there and then in the pod, I couldn't resist a sarcastic smile. So that was it, the tieflings' bonus – a toned butt for free! I would have to push the idea to the masses on a women's forum. It was quick and cheap, and if you waved it around like a huge fan, in a month you could be posting "before and after" photos.
"What are you smiling about, goat?" A gruff voice returned me to the game. Here we go!
Two level-three players barred the way to the training camp. Braksed the elf and Kurtune the human, sharing the second name Vartalinsky. They must have been brothers, at least in mind. Outwardly the pair looked very different from the players hovering behind them. If the rest wore simple shirts and trousers, and many even had no shoes, Braksed and Kurtune were not badly kitted out: full leather armour, rings, chains, helmets, and heavy belts with several bags. Even by my inexperienced reckoning they were dressed more than sufficiently for level three of a closed location. What were guys like those doing in the nursery?
"Smell the light!"
Something bright lit up in the hands of the elf, and the light produced an unpleasant chill in my body, making me twitch. The feeling was the same as when I was reborn in the temple. Back then I'd thought it was a smell, but I was wrong – it was the effect that light magic had on me. The closer it came, the worse the pain and shivering. Reflexively I shoved a fist out in front, wanting to punch the scumbag, but it went straight through Braksed completely unhindered. They couldn't lay into me on the training camp, but ruining a tiefling's physical and mental health with light magic would be a piece of cake.
"I don't get it," frowned Braksed, turning a blind eye to my attempt at retribution. "Why isn't he doubled up?"
"You're all fingers and thumbs," said Kurtune. "Give it here."
He grabbed the shining sphere and set it to maximum brightness. These guys were in a group together because they could collaborate. My body felt the chill once more. I'd reduced my sensitivity threshold to ten percent just in time.
"What's going on here?" Supervising Instructor Drumm appeared just as the pointlessness of the Vartalinskys' actions was becoming apparent. The menacing werewolf, covered from head to toe in thick fur, looked funny in his demon hunter's leather clothes, but his natural charm, bestowed on him by Barliona's artists, precluded any joking on the subject – his contemptuously raised upper lip bared sharp fangs, and the look he gave to everyone around was particularly noteworthy. It was the look you gave to the dead wood beneath your feet.
"Let's exorcise demons!" laughed Braksed and Kurtune, ignoring the charisma of the NPC. I breathed a sigh of relief – there were even school kids here! These two were no older than twenty, and had no brains and no brakes, but enough attitude to pave a road out in the sticks. Mummy and daddy had given them money, but not bothered with manners. The gilded youth in all its loathsome glory. Adolescents who had lost their minds to overindulgence and tedium. Multiply that by the opportunities of Barliona, and you get players with no mind at all disobeying the rules.
"The light of Eluna has little effect on tieflings. If you want to banish a half-demon, ask your parents to buy you a brain." NPCs could also pick out the golden guys. "Have you completed my task?"
"No." Kurtune stroppily screwed up his face. "We've still got two hours."
"I'll be waiting for your results. Put the Drop of Light back where it belongs. You'll be penalized for using it." Drumm cast another disdainful glance over us and went off to attend to his business. The scene was boring without him, so I went to find the newbie assault course.
"Flea-ridden mutt," spat Braksed. "Three thousand gold!"
"Forget it, our folks will cough up." Kurtune waved it away and called to me: "We haven't finished with you, goat-boy!"
He got no reaction, so he caught me up and blocked my path, but I walked right through him like he wasn't there. Blatant disregard is one of the most terrifying punishments for them. At home they were used to everyone licking their asses, and they demanded the same here. Braksed shouted after me that he'd find me in reality and chastize me, but all my attention was now on the training camp.
Next to the portal was a small muster station. On one side of it stood barracks – four for players and one for instructors. On the other side were two assault courses enclosed by a low fence. A newbie course and a basic course. Beyond them were another two – the mid- and high-level courses, along with an obscure wooden tower similar to a high diving board. "Minimalism and practicality" was evidently the guiding motto of the cartographer who created this place. A huge hullabaloo and the shouts of the instructors could be heard – the training process was in full swing.
"We haven't finished with you yet!" I caught one last threat from behind me before I stepped onto the course and all external sounds disappeared – the magic fence had superb sound insulation, and only let noise out. Nothing should distract a student from his training. The newbies' course consisted of ten obstacles one after another. You had to walk, crawl, run or jump, avoiding a swinging axe, spiked clubs, firewalls, sharp spears, and other devices that would hamper your painless transfer from point A to point B. There were no safety mats or stage props, only red-hot iron and fire. There was a player on the course as I arrived. He skipped nimbly under the swinging chopper, flew between the incandescent slabs, scarcely touching them, scrambled adroitly over the barbed-wire net, and frustratingly didn't react in time to a spike appearing from out of the ground.
"Seven out of ten, an excellent result," boomed master Gurt, a green orc. "Marcon the Spoiled, I give you access to the basic level. Access to this course remains open to you until you complete all ten obstacles. Next!"
Marcon's fall didn't send him to be regenerated – with one Health point he lay on the ground and waited for a healer. The next player stepped onto the course. He passed the first three tests with relative ease, but a powerful blow to the chest on the fourth knocked him out.
"Three out of ten. You're a waste of space!" Gurt was not happy with progress. "Number four to the start!"
The number "11" appeared in the upper part of my viewer – I had evidently received an electronic ticket to join the queue of fortunate souls. The bad news was that I had to attempt the course without any previous training.
"Number four to the start!" repeated Gurt louder.
Number four was in no hurry to take his place, making everyone wait. Players milled about, exchanging quizzical glances and wondering whose turn it was.
"Eredani!" Gurt shouted out a familiar name. "Where the hell are you? On the course, at the double!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move over by the fence. Eredani sat and looked gloomily at the course, ignoring the instructor and everyone else.
"You want to go back to the Abyss?" asked Gurt, and the tiefling twitched. Begrudgingly Eredani stood up and moved slowly to the start, dragging his tail flaccidly. After clambering up onto the platform, my horned fellow tribesman shivered, closed his eyes and took off at a pace. The first test was the slabs crashing into each other. Even I, who had never once stepped on a course before, could have got through, but not Eredani. The slabs collided, crushing the tiefling under the sound of his doleful "oofs" and "aahs", and a second later we watched empathetically as a compacted briquette fell to the ground.
"Again?! Nought out of ten. Waste of space. Next!"
The duty priestess restored the tiefling's health, and Eredani quietly headed back to his place by the fence. I went a little closer to the course, to train mentally along with the players attempting it. It would very soon be my turn, and of all my predecessors, nobody had got further than the fifth test, which was making Gurt all the more angry and disconsolate. When my turn came, the orc just waved a paw, unhopeful of my success. And I must admit I didn't let him down. The first test really was too elementary to embarrass myself on. But next came the spikes popping up from below, and no matter how long I studied them for, I could see no pattern in their appearance. As a result I crashed out almost immediately, straight after passing the first test.
"One out of ten. Waste of space!" said Gurt. He had a good look round the group and said, "Get training! You're demon hunters, not legless, blind pieces of meat! You've got to be quick and agile, not slow, crawling tortoises! The next test is in five hours. Get to work!"
The training camp shimmered and faded, and in its place appeared ten separate simulators, the same as on the course, only you weren't required to have completed the previous levels. Players rushed to their problem sections to work on their movements. I noticed that several demon hunters were able to train simultaneously on the same piece of equipment, passing effortlessly through each other's projections. Each had its own virtuality, which was both good and bad. Good because you could watch and repeat the movements of an experienced player. Bad because you could become confused with all the projections, and not notice a trap under your feet. Before joining the others, I wanted to clear up an important question with the instructor.
"What's the point of training?" I asked Gurt as he approached. "We're newbies. Shouldn't you be teaching us abilities?"
"If it's abilities you need, the portal's just there," he said irritatedly and pointed at the twinkling sphere. "You can have abilities and skills and everything you desire. While you're here, you do as I tell you. And right now I'm telling you the Abyss awaits you. I was going to send Eredani again, but since you're so inquisitive, you can go instead. I can't stand loudmouths. I'll be waiting by the tower in twenty minutes. If you're not there, you're out of the camp. Now get training!"
In my viewer appeared two timers. One was a countdown to my Leap into the Abyss; the second was my estimated time to the tower. Very convenient. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't forget and you wouldn't be late. I tried to make eye contact with the other players to ask about the jump. Unfortunately they were already aware of Gurt's temper, and looked away to concentrate more painstakingly on their exercises, paying no interest in what was happening around them.
Only the tiefling Eredani remained sitting by the fence, not even attempting to climb onto the simulators. Just the chap I needed. Gurt said he'd been in the Abyss. Eredani watched distrustfully as I approached and sat down next to him.
"I've been sent to the Abyss. Can you help?"
If you want to get in with someone, make them feel superior. A request for help is a good start, as you can kill several birds with one question: show him his importance and your helplessness, and most importantly, discover more about him. That way you'll know immediately if he's a degenerate.
"How? Go instead of you?" Eredani's voice was neither friendly nor malicious. It was the voice of someone who wanted to be left alone.
"No, I'll be fine. But there's nothing in the guides about the Abyss, let alone about jumping into it. I'm led to believe you've been there. What can I expect?"
"A thousand gold," he said. But of course! A player from a social shelter couldn't not think about money. A thousand gold was an average monthly wage in our world. Not bad for a simple question.
"I see. Forget it then. Good luck in the game." I stood up, intending to pass at least one test before the Abyss, despite still not understanding what they were for.
"Wait," said Eredani. "How did you end up a tiefling?"
"You mentioned something about a thousand gold," I shot back. "I'll tell you with pleasure."
"An exchange? Information for information?"
"Sure." I sat back down. I saw nothing wrong with disclosing the secret of my birth, since any player could read about it on the site, but I'd just heard about the Abyss for the first time. "You first," I said.
"Agreement." This one word made me take Eredani seriously. And when I read the text he gave me, he gained my respect. He didn't offer me a standard agreement on ten pages of unintelligible, confusing text, but rather a one-page document on which our exchange was clearly described. You have to work with contracts for many years to be able to whip up a sample like that out of thin air.
"It's a quality text, thank you." I signed the document.
"Thank you for what?" Eredani didn't understand.
"For the pleasure of reading a literately drawn-up contract. There are too many windbags around. Lots of clever phrases, but no common sense."
"Are you a lawyer?"
"No. You have to edit documents after them too."
"What's a bright fellow like you doing in Barliona during working hours? Have they abolished office slavery?"
"Waving my tail about and butting folk with my horns. Let's make it a closed agreement." I wasn't about to divulge my personal information to the first person I came across.
"Okay. How did you become a tiefling?" Eredani managed to ask the first question. I calmly told him about the bonus and the random generation of my character. Everything was open source, so he could check for himself. A green tick appeared next to my name on the list of current agreements. Barliona was acknowledging that I had completely fulfilled my part of the contract.
Eredani was silent for a time, staring blankly ahead. I was just beginning to worry about him, when he suggested another exchange.
"I don't want to say it out loud," he explained and sent me the text of another agreement. "A free piece of advice for the future – keep quiet about how you became a tiefling. It's a closed race, not accessible to players. They're running tests at the moment. Most likely you were taken on to test the effect of the bonus on class and race balance."
He was quiet again, allowing me to read the new agreement. In order to give information to another player, you needed writing implements and paper, which cost money. So as not to spend money on paper, the cunning bugger had put everything he knew about the Abyss in the text of the agreement. Regardless of the fact that he was level one, Eredani was far from a newbie in Barliona.
Scrolling down to the right place, I immersed myself in reading. What was a leap into the Abyss? A long rope was tied to the player's legs, and he was pushed off a platform into a separate location called the Abyss. Most demon hunters hauled weapons out of there. Then they purified them using Eluna magic, and gained enhanced attacking properties against the beasts of the Abyss. Some managed to retrieve armour; others – accessories. Players had even begun trading extracted objects. But there was a minus – every leap was accompanied by maximum possible pain. Jumpers had to remember that the Abyss was not intended for live players. Even if you turned sensations completely off, the leap enabled an Abyss debuff, which increased sensations by ten percent and was disabled only when you left the training camp. Anybody could survive one jump; some could survive two; only the few could survive more. However, as Eredani had written, this was all irrelevant to tieflings, for in the Abyss you were looking for weapons. Your task was to lasso yourself a demon, suppress it, and use your abilities to constantly recharge your remote demonic essence. In this lay the enormous difference between our class of tieflings and the other races. Everyone else used light magic, while we used demonic magic. It was a parallel path of development, which is why they ran the test, because they needed to evaluate the balance of the class. Eredani hadn't written anything about capturing demons, because he logged out for his leaps. So basically he hadn't told me anything directly useful to me. General information about everything and nothing. You call that experience? Barliona, however, was satisfied, and with a second green tick the agreement was closed.
"I overheard your question to the instructor. We could do another exchange of information," Suggested Eredani.
"For what?" I asked. Eredani was turning out to be quite the wheeler dealer.
"What did you leave behind in Barliona?" For some reason he was curious about my presence in the game.
"That's personal information, and I'm not exchanging it for the nonsense you gave me. I can read about training on the forum myself. I haven't asked why a social player with so much experience is only on level one and his sensations aren't turned up to the specified thirty percent."
"And you are right not to ask," he sneered. "You won't be told where to get off."
"Fine. I'll go and try a couple of obstacles before the jump. Thanks for the agreement, it'll come in handy as a template. By the way, I'm Brody."
I extended my hand to him. Being called by your real name in Barliona wasn't the done thing, although it wasn't forbidden either. As a profoundly real person, it was far more usual for me to call someone Dave than AFingerUpYourNose. The tiefling's eyebrows shot up when he understood my gesture; he wasn't expecting it. There followed a second's bewilderment, before he nonetheless shook my hand:
"Victor. But I prefer Eredani."
"Noted. Good luck in the game."
I only had time for the spike test. On the first attempt I understood that the spot where the spike appeared from rippled ever so slightly just before it shot up. Just a second, but in theory it was enough to skip to a safe section. In training the spikes didn't cause any damage, only pain, and you were flung to the ground, just like in the real thing. After three attempts I understood it wasn't my day. I didn't move my leg or my arm or my tail out of the way in time, and each time the spikes knocked me down.
The timer began to flash red – I had to get to the tower fast. The navigation arrow showed me which way to go, and I legged it as fast as I could. Again I had no shortness of breath or decrease in speed or any other parameter. I felt like Superman, moving mountains without turning a hair. I even jumped a few times while I was running, to check how high you could go, and I left the ground by a whole two metres. Working as a counterweight, my tail allowed me to hold my balance going round corners. Oh, to have skills like that in the real world!
"Up there." The duty priestess at the entrance to the tower pointed the way up some stairs, and I bounded up them two or three at a time. Were my adrenaline levels running high or something? It seemed the only explanation for experiencing such exhilaration from controlling my body. I liked being a quick and nimble tiefling.
Gurt was waiting for me on the upper platform with a rope in his hands. There was no one else around.
"You're not just a demon hunter. You're a tiefling," he began, tying the rope round my ankles. "So there are different demands on you. In the Abyss, close your eyes and feel your essence. They may have burned out the demon in you, but you can't fool Mother Nature. She'll show you what to do next. Find a demon in the Abyss, subjugate it, and drag it out here. We'll make a demon hunter of you, not an empty husk. When you want to get out, tug twice and I'll pull you up. Go!"
You have started the Taming the Demon scene
Description: You can use demonic abilities only after subjugating a demon. Complete the test and gain access to abilities.
Reward:
* The following abilities will become accessible to you: Demon Subjugation, Demon Retribution, Demon Strike, Automatic Attack, Tail Strike.
* You will be able to gain new abilities as you level up.
The orc gave the rope a tug to check its strength, and pushed me off the platform. "Fu-u-u-ck!" was all I could shout. He should have warned me. An announcement flashed before my eyes, but I couldn't read it. I tried to help myself as best I could by waving my arms and tail around. It suddenly became cold, and a sharp pain pierced my whole body from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Even my horns hurt, although I had somehow forgotten they even existed.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
By the time I felt a massive jolt bring an end to my fall, the platform was high above me. The Abyss was aptly named – visibility was zero in the murk. But I gradually became used to the nagging pain, and tried to get my bearings. First I brought my hand right up to my eyes – nothing. One thing was most definitely absolute: either the darkness surrounding me, or the transparence of my body. At least the interface icons were in place, so I wasn't one-on-one with "nothing". Taking a deep breath, I took Eredani's advice and began to flail my arms about, trying to latch onto something. My hand touched cold metal, so I felt it. Whatever it was, it was sharp, cold, and had a handle, and that was enough for me, so I took it. I waved my free arm around some more. Nothing else. Now it was time to use Gurt's advice. I hadn't a clue what "feel your essence" meant, but I obediently closed my eyes and tried to tune into sensations. I was still in pain, but it was tolerable. The tip of my tail began to itch, so I clenched my buttocks, leant my head back, and scratched it with a horn. Two of the body parts I'd gained in the game had already come in handy.
Progress of the Taming the Demon scene
Progress description: You were able to perceive your own demonic essence, and you can now invoke a demon.
Special conditions: You are granted a bonus for random generation of your character. The rank of your subjugated demon will be 3 higher than standard.
At last! The first mention of the generation bonus. I'd already begun to suspect Barliona had successfully forgotten about it.
"Mother weeps for her sons," came a drawled and sinister murmur. "She is grieving. Help her! Come back! Become one of us!"
My eyes filled with tears. Mother! I have betrayed you. I defected to the enemy, became one of… What was all this?! Why the hell was I getting these obsessive thoughts?!
Regress of the Taming the Demon scene
Regress description: You lost perception of your demonic essence.
Like that, is it? After chasing the tiefling out of my head, I had become Brody West again. The rope twitched. The supervisor had felt a change and wanted to know if I was ready to come back up. I wasn't. I was all fired up.
My tail brushed against my horns again, advancing the progress of the scene. The ominous murmur was right on cue. My head swam, like after a shot of vodka on an empty stomach, but this time I was mentally prepared. Again I pitied the outcast Ireness, deprived of her children, and I felt utterly discouraged by the knowledge of my own treachery, but a small, stubborn part of my conscious sneered insidiously at these emotions thrust upon me. My identity didn't go anywhere, but it slackened the reins and allowed the situation to develop by itself. My head hurt from being in two consciouses simultaneously, but this pain was even an advantage just then. It was much sharper than the pain inflicted by the Abyss, and it helped me focus.
"Ireness wants you back! Come with me!" The dismal murmur rang out right next to my ear. The enforced conscious rejoiced, recognizing the voice of Ireness's daughter, the archdemoness Aniram.
Reference information
Hierarchy of demons in Barliona
Supreme Demon: A creature without level. There exist only three Supreme Demons, who are the heads of their houses. They answer directly to the Emissary of Chaos. The Supreme Demons fight each other continually for territory. In Barliona they can only dwell within a one-mile radius of the Ziggurat of Defiance. They are the strategic commanders of the invasion.
Higher Demon: A creature without level. The generals of the army invading Barliona. They answer exclusively to their own Supreme Demon. Depending on the strength of the Supreme Demon, at any one time between three and ten of his Higher Demons can dwell in Barliona. They are the operative commanders of the invasion. Their residence time in Barliona depends on the will and strength of their Supreme Demon.
Archdemon: An officer of the army of demons invading Barliona. They are copious in number and strong, and subject to the invocation and suppression of their will. They command demons and lower demons, and are always surrounded by their corteges. They can dwell in Barliona for 6 hours, after which they are banished to the Abyss for 18 hours. Their residence time may be increased by means of sacrifice.
True demon: A deranked archdemon. Subject to the invocation and suppression of its will. A lone wolf. They can dwell in Barliona for 12 hours, after which they are banished to the Abyss for 12 hours. Their residence time may be increased by means of sacrifice.
Demon: A soldier of the army of demons invading Barliona. They are strong and have a human intellect, due to which they are not blocked by Barliona. They are subject to the invocation and suppression of their will. Lone wolves, although they can unite into groups. Demons of different houses feud with each other, and are occasionally prepared to cut deals with citizens of Barliona in order to banish a demon of a rival house to the Abyss.
Lower demon: The cannon fodder of the army of demons invading Barliona. Copious in number and devoid of intellect, they are not blocked by Barliona, because it sees them as aggressive animals. They conform to a herd instinct, and are subject to the invocation and suppression of their will. They run in packs, and if for some reason they become left behind, they enter hibernation.
The overwhelming joy of seeing my elder sister all but totally engulfed me, but I managed to retain consciousness by using mathematics. Previously, whenever a member of a project team did something stupid or openly sabotaged a job, I would mentally calculate the square of a three-digit number. You can't shout at your subordinates; you can only discuss their degeneracy with their direct bosses in the hope of getting a more suitable replacement. I tried as hard as I could. Mathematics allowed me to handle my emotions then, and it helped me to focus now – Aniram was whispering something to me about Ireness and her inner turmoil, and I was squaring 329. Waiting until I could feel the aura right up close to my ear, I took a wide swing with my free arm, trying to catch the archdemoness. My hand fell on something cold and hairy, and was soon gripping a hefty clump of hair.
"What are you doing?" asked Aniram, before I tapped the rope twice with my pick. Gurt reacted instantly, and I shot upwards, dragging the archdemoness behind me. She tried to free herself without hurting me, but as soon as a glimmer of light appeared, she sank her talons into my shoulder and started to howl, "No-o-o!" We exited the Abyss together.
"Don't let her slip away!" shouted the orc. Swearing, I took my newly procured instrument between my teeth and, securing my grip on Aniram's hair, held her like a loved one, enwreathing her with all my limbs and even my tail. Aniram squirmed frenziedly, biting and scratching, and beating me with her tail. Her Health level dropped instantaneously to "1" and froze. The archdemoness's luck had run out – she couldn't kill me in the training camp.
"Stone! Hoop! Seal the outer boundary!" Concise orders were given. The death throes of my captive gradually abated, and my body was wracked with a chill. I opened my eyes. Alongside Gurt stood Uldaron, the head of the camp, and Abigail, the priestess who had purified me. The latter's hands glowed, creating a light dome. Aniram wilted completely into a spineless doll.
"You can let her go now," commanded Uldaron. I unclenched my fists, and the prisoner collapsed to the ground. The light of Eluna was concentrated on the archdemoness, releasing me from my distress. The orc helped me to disentangle myself and stand up.
"Not a bad catch." Gurt grabbed the pick from me, nearly knocking out my teeth in the process. "Well balanced. Sturdy. Could take a lot of heads off."
I looked dubiously at the ordinary-looking pick. If you removed the dark fog curling around the handle, it was no different from any other. Gurt turned it this way and that, clicking his tongue, before reluctantly giving it back to me.
Demon Pick of Power
Description: A rare object, used for mining ore.
* Damage: 10 (Physical)
* Mining +1
* Strength +1
* Stamina +1
* Possibility to develop Demon Sinews without forfeit
"Go and see master Dheire," Gurt advised me. "He'll teach you to use the pick correctly."
"Don't distract him, Gurt," said Uldaron with a reminder of the reason for our mini-muster. Aniram was now totally drained off all willpower, and sat staring into space. "Go, Kvalen. You must be bound."
I obeyed, though entering the dome of Light was particularly unpleasant.
"I had to burn out your internal demonic essence, otherwise Barliona wouldn't become home for you," said Abigail. "But we have found a way to return tieflings to combat. The spurious power of a demon! You can use your abilities again, though I should warn you straight away that your demon must remain a demon, and conscious. You can't clap on everlasting chains like the demonologists. You are obliged constantly to crush any attempt to resist. Remember, every thirty minutes that you use your demonic abilities, the demon will try to hurt you. If it succeeds in taking the upper hand over you, it will return to the Abyss, and you will have to endure the subjugation procedure again. Now get ready! You must put your demon to sleep and strengthen the bond. I shall restore her will."
Two new buttons appeared on my abilities panel. One was flashing fast and furious, inviting me to fulfil Abigail's demand and complete the subjugation scene. I followed the directions and Aniram disappeared. At last I was a real player with abilities.
Training a Demon scene completed
Abilities gained:
Demon Strike: You project purified demonic energy at your opponent, inflicting 100 % damage to their Attack parameter. The opponent must be no further than 50 meters from you. Cannot be used in motion. Requires an active demon. Cost: 20 Energy.
Demon Retribution: A passive ability. You subjugate a demon and gain the ability to use demon magic. The demon resists subjugation, creating a diversion once every 30 minutes. The demon chooses the optimal strategy to ship you to the Gray Lands. If you die, the demon is freed and returns to the Abyss.
Demon Invocation: You invoke/dismiss your subjugated demon.
"A good catch," said Uldaron praisingly. "It's not every tiefling who can fish out an archdemon first time round. If you can get along with it, you'll become a worthy warrior! Abigail, purify the pick."
The priestess directed the light of Eluna onto the procured object. I was concerned that the properties of the pick might change during purification, but apart from the fog, everything remained in place.
"Let's go." The orc motioned me towards the newbies' assault course. "I want to see how you use the abilities you've gained."
Task received: Demon Strike training
Description: A regular task. Use the Demon Strike ability successfully five times in succession.
Reward:
* Experience +5
* Reputation with Light of Barliona faction +1
I went with my gut feeling – no changes. The fact that there was an archdemon somewhere close by, albeit asleep, was a matter of indifference to me. Throwing the pick over my shoulder, I trudged off after Gurt.
"Kvalen, wait a second!" A player hailed me by the entrance to the course. Shukir the Vaunted, a level-three human. He wasn't quite as well equipped as Braksed and Kurtune, yet he was also clearly no simple player. His leather coat sparkled with chainmail reinforcements, and his patchwork trousers looked built to last, but the most striking thing distinguishing him from all the others was that he was wearing shoes. I stopped and waited for him as he hurried towards me.
"An interesting show you put on up in the tower," said Shukir genially. "I've been here a week, and that's the first time a player's emerged from the Abyss hugging a demon. Can you show me the video? I want to have a look at the beast's mug. We have to know who we're up against, otherwise it's scary as hell. I'll even pay you. I haven't got much gold, but I can find twenty."
"You just want the face?" I asked. Shukir made a good first impression, especially after Braksed, Kurtune and Eredani. He told me about his problem, asked for help, even offered to pay… Wait a minute! That's a classic manipulation ruse. And as if to confirm my suspicion, he added:
"Actually, the whole jump would be better. I still have two more jumps, and what if I bump into one of them? Did the pick come from the Abyss too? What properties does it have? Here, take the twenty."
Crafty sod! Offers an exchange, gives me twenty gold, then mentions the pick, shifting my attention to it. If I was less cynical, I'd have taken the money and gladly helped the afflicted soul. Then I'd have kicked myself – Barliona is no reality; a verbal contract and the voluntary wish of each participant in the deal is enough there. I would have to part with my video. But Shukir was overlooking one thing – two could play at that game.
"No, twenty's not enough." I dug my heels in, playing the simpleton, and declined the exchange. A demon was nothing compared to what the camp chief whispered to me after the jump. My Reputation had flown way up after the catch.
"Give me a break!" Shukir didn't believe me. He couldn't not say anything; he didn't like demons.
"I swear on Barliona! Up there Uldaron told me how to become a worthy warrior. Only an idiot would leak information like that for twenty. And anyway, I should probably offer it to the Phoenixes first."
I was enshrouded in a snow-white glow – Barliona had accepted my oath. You weren't allowed to misuse such affirmations of your words, on pain of punishment, but this was a fitting moment.
"Consider you've already offered it to the Phoenixes." Shukir persevered, taking the bait. "I'm here on their behalf."
"You're lying." I eyed him warily. "Why would they want to reset a player? Thanks, of course, but I'll contact them directly later. Maybe. Or maybe I won't. Rumor has it the Dark Legion are also buying up information."
"A hundred gold for the video of your dive." Shukir upped the stakes dramatically. "And another fifty for the pick."
I was about to milk Shukir a bit more, when Eredani suddenly crawled out of his corner and unceremoniously butted into our conversation.
"Kvalen, don't agree. A video from the tower is worth substantially more than that. You're being taken for a ride."
"Butt out, Eredani, I'm done with you." Shukir's amiability faded.
Eredani paid him no attention and continued to talk me round, but I was sceptical of his desire to help.
"There aren't many demon hunters. Even fewer tieflings. Tiefling demon hunters are in single figures. You should already have worked out for yourself the specifics of our mechanism. If Uldaron told you something, keep it to yourself!"
Keeping calm on the outside was difficult. What the hell was Eredani doing minding other people's business? I had to wrap it up, but leave my net cast wide for the future:
"Eredani's right, Shukir. Sorry, but I'm not ready to sell information from Uldaron just yet. I should study the market first, otherwise I'll be underselling myself."
"A thousand gold right now for the full video from the tower!" Shukir had lost his patience.
The negotiation was back on. I pretended to be looking for support from Eredani, and unexpectedly noticed the shadow of a smirk flit across my congener's face. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but so articulate that the answer came to me instantly.
"Get outta here! Ten for the whole thing, not a penny less."
"Are you out of your mind?! Where did you get a price like that from? I'll give you fifteen hundred for the lot. That's for your eyes!" Shukir was seething. It was time to make a concession, otherwise the whole deal would break down.
"Three thousand, but only for the clip of what Uldaron told me. That's my final offer. I'm not going to haggle myself into a loss." I wasn't best pleased with myself, and waved a hand to drive home the point.
"Deal!" Shukir threw me a clipboard viewer. Bloody hell! Three thousand gold for a few seconds of video! Had everyone gone nuts? I'd have to put in thirteen hours a day for two weeks to earn that sort of money. What was happening in people's heads that they were prepared to pay so much for a chunk of computer code? The most important thing now was to keep a lid on my jubilation.
I didn't even have to cut Uldaron out – the system did it automatically. I just needed to check the excerpt didn't include anything unpaid for, and press the Exchange button. Slightly short of three thousand entered my account – the Bank was fastidious in regard to its two percent – and the system made a suggestion:
New specialization available: Trade
Description: Your ability to drive a hard bargain is impressive! You are a true trader. Every specialization point increases your discount with NPC-traders from 0.1 % right up to 50 %.
Accept! As a potential clan chief, this specialization was compulsory.
"You?!" roared Shukir after looking at the video. The system obligingly censored the player's vocal outrage which followed. "Where's the information about levelling up?"
"That's all the boss told me," I replied nonchalantly. Of course the advice to "Gain the upper hand over the archdemon" wasn't worth three thousand gold, but I wanted to teach Shukir a lesson. If you're going to manipulate people, you must be prepared to be manipulated yourself.
"Give me my money back, you bastard!" demanded Shukir. It was verging on the orgasmic to observe his ire-distorted face.
"The terms of our verbal agreement have been fulfilled, and you've received all the information. If you have any objections, refer them to a lawyer." I could be quite headstrong when the need took me. "If you don't require any more information, I won't presume to detain you further and distract you from the game. Have a nice day!"
I turned around and unhurriedly entered the newbie course. Shukir tried to stop me, yelling threats of divine retribution, but it fell on deaf ears since I had no intention of returning the money. The troublemaker didn't have access to the course, so he couldn't hound me there. Eventually things quietened down – the Phoenixes representative had been making a lot of noise. Although no, I was still being shadowed. Eredani stood beside me and, his eyes on everyone training, announced, "I want my cut. I reckon I'm due half."
I'd been expecting it ever since he'd come over and tried to help. I turned silently and expectantly towards him.
"Everyone around here knows Shukir," he said. "And his business. After your tussle with the demon on the tower, I knew he'd latch on to you. Everyone knows you're a newbie in Barliona, down to the last deer. When I saw you were going to milk him, I decided to help out a bit. You wouldn't have been able to finagle him out of three thousand on your own. He's not stupid, but he is a tightwad. The least you could do is return the favor."
"So that's your game," I said. The first time we spoke, I'd taken Eredani for a reasonable guy. Evidently I'd been too impressed by his agreement. Matt was right – Barliona had changed. If before people had played for the enjoyment, now it was for the money. Everyone wanted to make a profit, and preferably at the expense of others.
"Sorry, Victor. I didn't ask for your help. Plus you nearly ruined the entire negotiation. Newbie doesn't mean idiot. If you think I owe you, there's a Dispute Settlement button in settings. The lawyers will sort it out. Good luck in the game!"
"So you're not going to give me my share and earn my goodwill?" Eredani had lost all sense of proportion. It wasn't a nice feeling to be wrong about people.
"What do I need with someone so generous?" I asked sarcastically.
"I suppose you don't," he agreed and backed down. "Good luck in the game."
Dismissing the tiefling, I went to find the supervisor. Gurt was standing by some sparring dummies and looking impatiently in my direction. The instant I reached him, he boomed, "You took your time! Invoke the demon!"
The Invoke Demon button began to flash, like a prompt for retards. One click and Aniram appeared. An animated buzz from the direction of the simulators indicated the archdemoness had been spotted, but she paid no attention to the folks around her. Her hate-filled gaze was fixed on me alone. Her hands and feet were manacled by a white cloud, so, unable to get her claws into me, she was trying to burn through me with her eyes. Poor NPC! If only she knew how often I had to put up with looks like that in the real world! Especially when I had to remove someone from a project because of their incompetence.
"Traitor! You will be cursed and banished from the Abyss!" Getting no reaction to her stare, Aniram had to add some big words. The orc peevishly screwed up his face – the demoness's voice enabled debuffs. They had no effect on the tiefling, but everyone else in the vicinity got an unpleasant earful.
"Tell her to shut up," said Gurt, retreating from us and drinking a white liquid from a flask. I specifically sought out the orc to see the result – the debuffs disappeared as if by magic. I assessed my abilities and pursed my lips, dissatisfied – not one of them allowed me to control the conscious of the subjugated demon. I decided to follow the old-fashioned route, and said:
"Don't open your mouth unless ordered to do so!"
"I'll tear out your heart and ram it down your throat! And without any orders from you!" Aniram didn't bat an eyelid. "You'll be begging me for death! Mother will reward me!"
No new debuffs appeared. So that was how Demon Retribution worked! Aniram hadn't attacked me, but everyone else, to damage me in training. In confirmation of this, a countdown timer appeared in the upper part of my viewer: Minimum time to next diversion. I chuckled – it would seem my "pet" had a mind. What was the point of creating a diversion if I was ready for it? She would save up her strength for thirty minutes and then strike when I was least expecting it. It didn't exactly make for a comfortable game.
"Select a dummy and perform a Demon Strike," ordered Gurt, reeling from the debuff.
The next button began to flash on the panel, and several of the dummies closest to me lit up in white. I knew the game was played by people with varying levels of education, but such detailed prompts were excessive. Highlighting the nearest target, I pressed the button. Aniram bent over backwards, and a dark cloud burst from her breast. It flew towards me and into my hands, arousing a feeling of oneness. Memories of the warm lava and Ireness's soft voice zipped through my head. My body reacted, quaking in ecstasy, something it had sorely missed. My fingers tensed spasmodically, and at that moment a snow-white flourish struck the dummy. Task progress: one out of five. The buttons flashed again, making me go into settings. Of course! The Newbie parameter was selected in Game Regime. By default, Barliona tried as much as possible to guard people against thinking, doing everything for them. I selected "lower than average", and the flashing ceased. That was more like it! Completing the remaining strikes was no problem. Aniram put up no resistance, and didn't try to stitch me up; she just bent over and gave me part of her demon essence.
Demon Strike training task completed
Reward:
* Experience gained +6, until next level – 994
* Reputation with Light of Barliona faction increased by 3
I was seriously distressed at the damage I'd caused. Demon Strike was a magic ability, and given that my Intellect was lower than low, and I had no magic weapons, twelve Damage points was not easy on the eye. Were I to lock horns with even a level-one player with a hundred Health points, I would have to use the ability ten or so times. In that time any half savvy player would tear me to shreds and still have time to toast some bread over the fire. Conclusion – don't engage in open PvP without being properly kitted out. The bonus from the basic commercial account increased Experience by one point and Reputation by two. I was itching to buy myself a Boosting Gem, but no sooner had I opened the in-game store and seen the prices, than the desire evaporated all by itself. Spending that sort of money just then was stupid.
Reference information
Training speed and Boosting Gems
Training speed – The parameter determining how quickly a player gains Experience. A coefficient increasing Experience. Default setting 0 %. Increases due to obtainment of a special Boosting Gem. At any one time a player may have only one Gem.
Boosting Gem – An object increasing the speed of training. Can be obtained only from the game administration. May not be resold to another player. Types of Gem and prices:
· Gem +10 %, minimum +1 experience. Price: 1050 gold
· Gem +20 %, minimum +2 experience. Price: 2100 gold
· Gem +30 %, minimum +4 experience. Price: 3150 gold
· Gem +40 %, minimum +6 experience. Price: 4200 gold
· Gem +50 %, minimum +8 experience. Price: 5250 gold
"If you train hard and always use your abilities, you'll grow into a worthy demon hunter!" Gurt officially signed off on my task, and returned to the other recruits. The orc's words struck me as strange, and I opened my character window. Indeed, five Demon Strikes had increased my Intellect by five points, one for each strike. 995 more strikes and I would increase my Intellect by one point. How freaking simple! I had to hammer away at a dummy for half a year in order to bump up a characteristic to a more or less respectable value!
I dismissed Aniram, but the countdown to the next diversion didn't stop. More bad news. I couldn't do anything to my pet, I couldn't freeze the timer, and I couldn't use my abilities without a demon. Too many "I couldn'ts". Deciding to see what this would lead to, I went over to the simulators to polish up my moves. I got so caught up in the feeling of control over my own body that I lost track of time. I hated running, jumping, and squatting in reality – my unwieldy body and shortness of breath constantly resisted my desire to exercise. There was nothing like that here. I literally flew through the simulators, and the logic of our actions became clear – a demon hunter had to be quick and agile in order to escape danger. We weren't supposed to get mixed up in open conflict with enemies. Our core rotation was: leap away from opponent, keep opponent at a distance, constantly batter opponent with Demon Strikes. No Leeroy Jenkins here!
The next two hours I spent working honestly on completing tests. Fortunately for me, Marcon the Spoiled didn't content himself with seven tests out of ten, and stayed on to practice the last three. I shadowed him on the machines, trying to remember each movement, but then he suddenly disappeared to reality. His character faded away right in the middle of a test, as a result of which myself and the rest of the brethren following him all fell to the ground. Some sooner, some later, but everyone collapsed. I was the first. My Agility scale rose to 748, and I at last felt depleted. No physical fatigue, only mental. At the end of the day, repeating the same thing over and over is hard work. I needed to switch off, so I decided to take a stroll around the training camp, but as soon as I exited the assault course, my body was seized by that familiar chill.
"You again! Smell the light!" Braksed was once again ensconced in his battle station next to our course. I ignored his cloying odium, far more concerned as I was with the state of Eredani, who was lying on the ground, wheezing, hunched over in a most unnatural position, and tearing at his chest with his fingers. Braksed laughed, pleased with the result, and that was the last straw. I was no great philanthropist, but I couldn't stand open travesties of justice. I couldn't damage the player directly, but Braksed himself had given me a fantastic idea. Aniram, my dear, enter!
"What the hell?!" The elf stood transfixed. The archdemoness's spectacular entrance did not go unnoticed. Her wings spread wide, Aniram hovered above me, intent on flattening me like a bug as soon as the light of Eluna touched her. It still hadn't occurred to the aggressor to switch off the Drop of Light.
"I will drink your soul! I will make you pray for death!" Her target had suddenly changed. I wasn't going anywhere, so her priority was now to rid herself of the Light she so hated. A deafening crack, an earthquaking tremble, and all around was rent with the wild shrieks of a pack of lower demons. Aniram had called up six canine beasts, and pointing her wings at Braksed she roared, "Kill!"
The dogs rushed to obey the order, and the noise from the camp was joined by two abominable sounds: the wail of the security system, and the cries of Braksed being torn apart. A player's pet, just like a player himself, could do nothing to an opponent, but this restriction did not extend to invoked animals. A shadow flickered and the pack was dust. Drill sergeant Tarlin was the first to reach ground zero, but it was too late – Braksed lay prostrate, one Health point to his name, emitting toe-curling screams. The lowlifes had had a splendid romp, and pointed out Braksed's need to visit a sales office to decrease his pain threshold. The player was so panicked he hadn't even thought of exiting virtuality, exposing himself to the demons' jaws.
The satisfied Aniram folded her wings, devoured me with a bloodthirsty look and, spraying everything around with her hatred, spat, "You're next, traitor!"
Tarlin frowned, and I hurried to get the archdemoness out of harm's way. If he killed her, I would have to dive into the Abyss again, something I wasn't burning with desire to do.
"Pick up Eredani and follow me," ordered Tarlin. "You attacked a Free citizen. Punishment awaits you!"
Upgrades gained
* Experience gained: +6, until next level: 988
* Reputation with Light of Barliona faction increased by 3
Yeah right! What were the bonuses for?!