Chapter 25

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"Two Damage dealers to the Crypts! Quick run!"

"Looking for a group to accompany!"

"Buffer with a heal and a ranger on the far Misty Fields! Let's go for the whole day!"

"The guild group will take a level twenty-five priest!"

"We're looking for armored fighters - a big tour to the groves!"

The developers of "CoDs" are good at everything, but this thing with the general voice chat is annoying. You have to keep your head spinning, looking for the right phrases, otherwise, everything merges into a monotonous buzz, clogging up any meaningful message.

The area of the hiring exchange was comparable in size to the marketplace, which is not surprising. Here and there they both sold. In the marketplace, they sold items and craft skills, while here they sold game time and mastery.

Want to go on a quest that's too hard for you? Buy help from the exchange. Looking for a permanent group? Here you go again. Here scouring the guild recruiters, testing candidates, and looking for rare skill combinations, there's always a crowd of freeloaders, ready to go anywhere to chew your bit of precious exp. And, with luck, grab the loot and run away. Here the seething mass of ordinary normal players, without any backward thinking, looking for a group. In the same bazaar, the main board with the caravan and messenger quests from the city NPCs. And, of course, the den. Over there is the descent to a semi-basement room, with dim lamps and dirty windows that give more shadows than light. The place where the mercenaries get their contracts. Come down, if you're brave.

I stood at the board with the announcements from the NPCs and began to read while trying to hear something in the chat. I closed the text window immediately, and the local chat in it flashed with unthinkable speed, not allowing me even to grasp the meaning, let alone understand the subtleties.

Announcement of a caravan going to a neighboring town. A good thing is a caravan, especially for newcomers. A long recurring quest with a good reward, and on the way someone will try to rob: either NPC robbers, adventurers who want easy, as they think, loot, or mercenaries, fulfilling their class quests. Resurrection is right on the spot, so fight, young warrior, and earn experience and reputation! It's kind of boring, though.

Escort missions are the same caravan, but less time-consuming, though riskier.

Capture quests - a complete list of "tomatoes" spotted in front of the guards. That's what I'd do, with a wanted list you get a magical beacon, roughly indicating the direction of the target. It's like a hunt. Too bad it doesn't show the level of the target. I'm going to grow up and do it because the "bounty hunters" receive a very good reputation, apparently, it is specially designed so that merged mercenaries could step on the path of correction, before the next crime.

I turned my head, looking for the player who had just said. "Clearing mission?" What that?

"Who's up for clearing? We're going for three days, the second half of the day by "middle Europe". We need a body and some kind of ranger! Mobs - level thirtieth!"

A body, then?

"I'm interested."

The speaker, a tall man in a gray and blue cloak, turned and looked me over.

"Heavy fighter? Profession, level?"

"Paladin of Amala the Healer. The level is not high but I'll be useful for sure."

"Name? If it's on the PK list I won't take you."

"Come on, how can a paladin be on the list?"

"Such times you don't know who's going to get there. Invite, and open your status. So?"

"I'm sorry, but I took a vow not to reveal my name until level one hundred."

The interlocutor snickered skeptically:

"Then go to the Mysti Fields. I don't want freeloaders. However, there is a way out - a duel right here, and if you win, I'll take you."

I looked around.

"A duel next to a den? I wouldn't risk it. Easy frag."

"Awesome. A low-level roleplayer buffer with mercenaries behind him. A valuable specimen for any group, they'll tear you apart!"

"Of course. I do not pretend for loot, I play with modules, and I can both tank and assist. In addition, I am set up for long and persistent pumping. So throw the invite and let's go."

"You are harsh, "warrior of Light."

"Oh, hello, Pal! How about joining our group?" Ivalia? Yeah, yesterday's druidess.

"Hi, Ila. I'm trying to get into another group here. To this mistrustful guy."

"Vacek, take him, and let's go, I'm bored!"

Along with the druidess came a lancer elf and a large goblin in armor.

"Do you know each other?"

I looked at Ila, and she nodded.

"Vacek, I told you about yesterday's raid - that's what he was in charge of! And he fights well!"

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Vacek sighed.

*A player invites you to join the group. Do you accept?

Yes.

"Hi, all!!!" I turned off the external channels, except my personal channel, and switched to the group channel. "I am a Paladin. I won't reveal my name because I took a vow. I play from the virt. If anything, I can heal and damage. I'm going for the exp, I am not interested in the loot. But I want a lot of exp!

"It will be an exp for you. This is Alric, Knight of the Forest." The spearman bowed graciously. "This is Gdag, the warrior." The goblin slapped his gauntlet on his cuirass. "I am Vacek, Pathfinder. Ila, I see you know."

I bowed to the girl, trying to reproduce the waving of my hat in the style of the Musketeers.

"How could I forget such a charming healer! What's with the cleanup?"

"I have a class quest - to clear part of the forest of evil-affected mobs. It's a nerd quest, but I'll get the reward. The trick is to clean up the area without destroying the quest tree."

"The archetype?"

"Yes, the archy, the Forest Warrior, simply a tracker."

It's a shame: it means I can't take the quest.

"Okay. If anything, I'll give you a buff of sixteen to the stats."

"The scroll?"

"Yeah. As soon as we become acquainted I'll use it."

"It's an hour, but there's so much work to be done that you can't even do it in three days."

"I didn't say I had only one scroll."

It wasn't the first time I'd been frustrated that I couldn't write a second- or third-ranked scroll; it was dangerous to go public with a fourth-ranked scroll: they might get interested. But I had to get a foothold in the company. Everyone's statuses were open except mine. The leader was level twenty-eight, the lancer and goblin were level twenty-five, and even Ila had reached seventeen. I'd have to try harder to keep up.

"One is lacking, for a complete group."

"Are we looking for a healer?"

"No, the mobs are simple, Ila can do it, you can help. We need a pure DD, but where to get it?"

I looked around. Even at first glance, there were a hundred or two slasher players of all different classes around.

"Don't look, it's trash. We even got you." He is tactful, I see. "Everyone who can do something is already taken, or they don't want to leave town for three days. By the way, can you be there all the time?"

I nod.

"Okay. Well, one more try." He pulled himself up onto the bollard and shouted something. With the external channel turned off, the tracker, opening his mouth in silence, looked comical.

Some guy in a cloak with a crossbow behind his back began to squeeze through the crowd and stood in front of the tracker, but after a short negotiation, he withdrew.

"What's wrong?"

Vacek waved his hand.

"Doesn't fit. Mercenary."

"So what?"

"What what? Why do I need a bandit in the group? It could easily be a trap. He'll plant flags on us, and the guards will cut everyone out before we even get to the gate."

It took two seconds to find the solution.

"Hey, mercenary! Are you sure you're with us?"

"Will you take me? I want to play, and it's boring in the city."

"Do you agree to the test?"

"Well... okay. Which one?"

I raised my hand: "Evil shall not be!"

In a flash of white light, evil blue sparks struck the crossbowman in the chest... and crumbled, surrounding the player with a light haze.

"Well, that's it. There are no flags on it."

"I don't get it. What was that?" Vacek took out his cleaver and went behind my back, definitely with bad intentions.

"Banishment of Evil, paladin's spell. Evil always damages and can stun. Neutrals don't care, good buffs briefly and heals. This one, as you saw, baffled him. So, not even a gray. Unicum, a mercenary with a positive reputation!"

"What if he had been stunned?"

"Then we'd finish him off and get the reward."

"You're kind... All right, I'll take him. But remember," the tracker put away his weapon and turned to the crossbowman, "one slip and I'll make so many contracts on you that you'll be tired to run from the cemetery!"

The mercenary shrugged, the group's status updated.

"What is your name?"

"Jago. Level 20, mercenary marksman, archetype."

"Welcome to the group, Jago. Three days, in the second half by Central European Time, farming non-stop. If you don't agree, I'll kick you right now, no hard feelings."

"I agree! Will there be exp?"

"Well, it's going to be a lot of exp! Come on, people, let's go!"

I made a finger sign and stepped onto the rumbling treadmill.

Outside the gates of the city, the tracker stopped.

"Alric, let's go."

The elf took a short whistle from his bag and whistled a simple tune.

"Done."

The speed of running increased, and by a lot. Fortunately, the speed was imaginary; the treadmill hummed as if I were walking at a brisk pace, and the character was hurtling along at a speed of forty kilometers. A useful thing in a world where only elephants and huge buffalo of caravaners are left of the riding animals. I decided to question the mercenary:

"If you don't want to kill players, then why did you take this class at all?"

"I like hunting, ambushes, to hunt, and then take down with one blow. I didn't know anything about "CoDs", I typed "stealth, remote, high damage" into my calculator, and they gave me a mercenary archer. Until the twentieth, I pumped up solo, and now do not take in groups. And for the urban NPCs do not give exp anymore."

"Re-roll. You can pass on the gear and the money."

"It's pitiful. I'm playing it off, like a warrior in a tough life situation, trying to be good while living at the bottom."

"Lucky. Two roleplayers in the group."

"And that's for three days, my tracker friend!"

"Terrible."

I turned to the mercenary again.

"What can you do?"

"Stealth is such a non-magical invisibility. Sudden Impact - If the target's back is to me, the damage increases. Blinding - once a minute, but it falls off on impact. I can also poison arrows."

"Do you play with the module?"

"Nah, he's expensive. Glasses only."

Expensive? Well, maybe for a student. And not everyone plays to the best they can.

The group stopped.

"Here!" Vacek turned to us. "I'm opening the passageway now. Do not move away from me, or it will throw the hell out of here and do not run ahead, too. We go slowly and compactly. Gdag and Pal right behind me, if anything - I jump back, and you immediately cover, okay?"

We nod.

"Ila, you're in the center. Merc, next to her." And an elf will keep an eye on the mercenary's back. They have bows, so the lancer can shoot. Makes sense. "Let's go!"

He threw something at the roadside bushes and they moved, parting and forming an archway filled with mist.

"Let's go!"

I stepped carefully into the mists trying to keep up with the warrior. The path beneath my feet was a few paces away, and beyond that was a wall of mist impenetrable but invisible at the same time. There was a bass-like screech coming from behind the wall of whiteness, and the warrior and I stopped.

"Don't stop, the trail will disappear! Almost there, keep moving."

After two dozen steps, the mist abruptly ended, and the group emerged into a sunny pine forest.

I looked back. There were bushes behind me and no mist.

"Here. According to the assignment, there was a breakthrough of evil here, under which the local animals fell: bunnies, squirrels, pigs..."

"...bears, wolves." I continued.

"No, the bears have already been eaten. By the bunnies and the mice."

"The ones we're going to hunt?"

"That's right. Are you scared?"

"It's a quiver of anticipation."

"Well done! Okay, so three of us have bows..."

I interjected: "Four of us."

"You not specialized.".

"But I have bolts with the slowing spell."

Vacek shrugged.

"Okay. Four shoots at the target I marked, and the target comes at us. Pal and warrior stop it at ten paces and begin to finish it. Alric is protecting Ila, she keeps us in the fight, and after the fight, Pal heals too. Ila regenerates. Does everyone understand? I start the quest."

Kneeling, Vacek folded his hands, raised them to the sky, and then lowered them to the ground. A ray of sunlight slipped from his hands and soaked into the fallen pine-covered grass, and almost immediately, spreading the needles and small twigs, a sprout rose that instantly grew to the elf's knee and opened with a dozen leaves.

"That's it, the quest is begun. Well, guys, don't let me down, it's the third time I'm trying to complete it!"

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