Chapter 38
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"Paladin?"
"What?"
"Why did you choose my guild?"
I shrugged.
"Actually just the first thing I remembered. You need your domain. You make raids for newbies..."
"Which you came up with on your own."
"So? You didn't abandon it, did you? Besides, we have the same goal - to pass the dungeon first."
"What is your interest?"
"According to the plot, there was a battle between the locals and other bandits. The locals were helped by paladins. I need all the armor marked with the sign of the Temple."
"What if it's all like that?"
"I don't think so. These are quest items, maybe only one piece will turn up at all."
"What if there's more than one? If there's so much of it that one can't carry it alone?"
"Then you'll have to carry it for me."
"What good is it to us?"
"Besides the Glory of completing the quest first and a good reputation with one of the six major powers of the city? Well, I don't know..."
The half-elf thought.
"And what if I don't agree?"
"Then I'll gather all the guild leaders of the city and arrange a public auction. I only turned to you because you kept your word, bought a map, and didn't try to push."
The player put you in the list of friends, and now you can see his name.
"Epitriz, an element mage, raid leader of the guild. Wait here, I'll assemble the group."
Fifty-second level? That's what a man chooses to do. With his level, he should go to the Pass or the Coast, not sit in a sandbox, assembling a guild, which anyway never rises above the sixth rank.
Hints that I had information about the place where our unburied brothers lay in the temple were received with enthusiasm. I was called all sorts of good names and told that it would be a good deed and should be done as soon as possible, but no help was given.
It's just like in life. The dungeon is already open, and soon there'll be hundreds of players looking for pieces of old armor to sell. The paladin has done his job the paladin can leave.
Well, at least they praised me. Sometimes even that doesn't happen.
Sitting down on a bench in the temple courtyard, I began to refresh the supply of scrolls.
Yesterday I was really stupid for trying to get to a new dungeon as soon as possible. Excitement, I got carried away. It happens; if you think about it, I don't even lose anything by going through the Watch in a month or two with a strong group assembled. I just really wanted to do it first. Of course, the temple assignment is very important. You have to bring...bullshit. The two pieces of armor I got from the first monster would be enough to pass. More than sure it will be enough, it was only a question of finding the burial place of the fallen brothers, and I found it. Still, I want more. Besides, even in the vast world of COD the discovery of a dungeon, even if it is low-level but no one has passed, is an event, and I want to participate in it.
As a result, after yet another futile search of possibilities, I went to the marketplace, asked the NPC merchant in the guild tent to invite the half-elf I knew, and made him an offer that couldn't be refused.
"There he sits. Pal, meet the party."
"The party, meet the pal?"
Said the troll girl. Or rather, a trollgoblin.
"Very funny. This is Villity, our main tank."
The girl did a curtsy, then jumped up, flipped in the air, and landed in a picture pose. Not a virt, more like a motion mod. I think I saw it in some Korean game back in my school days.
"Mario. Warrior of the Rocks."
"Hello."
"Ittiri, the priestess of Glarg. The only archetype in the group... except you."
The tiefling with the short horns and the sign of fire on her cape nodded to me, and I put my fist to my forehead, saluting.
"Superjah. Shooter."
"Coo!"
A schoolboy? Or a student? His weapon was fixed by the mod as an artifact, indestructible.
"I'm a mage, you know. You're a paladin of Amala, archetype, aren't you?"
"Yes." I stepped forward. "We're re-forming: I'm the leader."
"Why would that be?"
"Plot-wise. I don't want to blow a month's worth of work over something as trivial as this."
With a snarl, the guilders quickly reassembled the group with me at the head. That's fine, let them get used to it. I switched the channel to the internal one and turned off all the others.
"So, I'm doing a Narrative Quest. Judging by some indications, this could give very, very serious bonuses to the performers. Eleven hours ago, I discovered an unknown dungeon." Superjah whistled. "Mine isn't in town, so I turned to Epitriz for support. I don't need a relic. I need to collect as much quest ammunition as possible."
I took another look at the faces. It's a good thing COD pay so much attention to emotions, or you'd never know how they'd react. So far, everyone was serious and interested.
The essence of the quest - there was a fight two hundred years ago. The paladins of Amala the Healer helped the locals, and that's where they all stayed. I need to bring the armor of the fallen to the Temple. How much armor there will be - I don't know. The difficulty of the dungeon is the second lowered rank, judging by the first mob. Maybe even a full-fledged second. You - dungeon relics and loot. Me - quest stuff.
"Pal, you say you've been doing the quest for a month. And then all of a sudden you give the result to strangers?"
"What do you say?"
I shrugged.
"This is just one episode in a very long chain if the analysts are to be believed."
"And where does it end?"
"You don't have enough money to pay for such information. Are you interested in my offer?"
The half-elf was silent, pretending that he had to decide something, and then he said:
"Map."
I started handing the map to the guilder. He was silent, and then he gave me the expected answer:
"Listen, Pal, where do you get new maps all the time? Do they help?"
"Don't you follow the plot of the game at all? Are you looking for quests?"
"M-mother, what the hell is the plot? I've got a hundred and seventy-two morons in my guild, and they all want something different, and they all know it better than the people around them! Have you seen Vility? She is still adequate compared to the leaders of the second cast! And I have to handle this whole zoo!"
"Well, that's why you don't have any new maps. I'm playing for my own pleasure, I'm not in a hurry. Because there's no hurry."
"Uh-oh, we're so important! All the Highs are just fixated on bonuses!" Thanks, Vilithy, that's exactly the kind of line I've been missing! Think, I'm a re-created top player, think! It's all about that - indifference to loot, incomprehensible deeds, and weird class choices. No one can fool you more than you fool yourself.
"Epitriz, did you get the support?"
"Three of the elves are from new, their "whistles" are fresh."
"And the cover-up?"
"Four of our mercenaries. Do you think someone might be waiting out near the entrance?"
"You don't have to think in these cases, you have to act by the book. Mark it and lead the way. I'll start advising only in the dungeon, before that you're in charge."
The half-elf grimaced but began to give orders.
Our cover, four mercenary shooters in protective cloaks with guild markings, joined us outside the temple gates. As usual on such occasions, the guild "vigilantes" possessed speeding abilities, otherwise, there would have been difficulty in getting them to the places where the guildmates were offended.
I shamefully skipped the way to the dungeon entrance area, setting my character to follow the leader, and personally escaping to the kitchen. Maybe it's already a diagnosis to prepare a thermos of coffee for a trip to the in-game dungeon, but it's little things like that that makeup... a real adventure!
"Pal?"
The speaker gave out the voice of a half-elf, pulling me out of the bathroom. Cursing, I ran to the room and stood in the center.
"Here. The fighters to this ravine. Priestess, what cooldown does your altar last?"
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"Ten minutes."
"Put it up. Let them get hooked on it ... and so will we all."
The animation of the sacred action of the Fire God's servant half consisted of tongues of flame, flying sparks, and other trappings. It's beautiful. I'll have to download a detailed description of the rituals and look it up. It might be important.
"The ravine is clear."
"The passage?"
"They're checking it out now."
"There may be traps there."
"Yeah."
The half-elf listened to the private chat, looking away at what was going on.
A man appeared at the altar in a swirl of fiery red sparks, swore, and sat down to eat something right on the spot.
I raised my hand and set a campfire next to him.
"Pal, how did you get through there? There are traps at every turn, and they're all different!"
"Heal. I passed normally."
He shook his head and remained silent.
"That's it. They are at the entrance. The traps are cleared."
This is also a mystery - where did the traps come from? The kind that can send a local mercenary to the cemetery - these are imports from the more advanced zones, the crafts of local craftsmen at most will hurt. So where from? The game set itself? Or maybe I'm still lucky and therefore passed without a hitch?
"Shall we go?"
"Yes. Epitriz leads. Until the final boss - he has the leadership. What do I know - there are guards at the entrance, level fifty, no magic. Jump well, relate to evil, nothing serious."
The half-elf nodded. He knew his men better, and it would be foolish to diminish the effectiveness by my inept command. The role is the role and business is business.
"Villity, Mario on the front line, Jah and I on the flanks. Pal, you've got the priestess' protection. Can you handle it?" I nodded. "The first shot is on Jah. Let's go."
From the first critter, I realized how different the organized group was from the randomly assembled group. Before the guardian could get to us, he lost a third of his life, got two debuffs, one "Fire Curse" from the priestess, and then was stunned by Vilithi and quickly finished off by Mario, who was some civilized kind of berserk: he dealt damage rarely, but when his mace was dropped on the creatures' heads or shoulders... These are not my attempts. One percent per hit!
The group walked like a mining harvester. The passages on the sides were covered by half-elf air shields, and any hint of a trap was checked by fire and steel. I caught myself starting to get bored! The only time I had to intervene was when I blocked the priestess from striking, stunning the creature that had jumped over the low Villie. But I didn't even have time to hit it - the group instantly turned inward, with the archer and the mage pushing the priestess back out of harm's way.
Rare healings, recovery exorcisms, and reading scrolls with "Shields" on Vility and Mario. I had nothing else to do.
"Pal, how's your imagination?"
"What happened?" I even twitched at the archer's sudden question.
The groupmates chuckled.
"My dad was talking in my ear about his youth, and I remembered a couple of themes, looked them up on the web, and decided to write a fanfic for him as a gift. He likes gifts made with their own hands."
"And?"
"I wrote at work. And my boss saw it."
"Did they do a pay cut?"
"On the contrary. He liked it, and now he demands more every day, and I have to work twice as hard just to keep him off my back. And I don't want to quit."
"So write! What's that got to do with me?"
"I don't know what it's about. I milked the old theme, and he and my dad want more..."
"Now he's bothering the whole clan begging for themes. You don't write, do you?" Viliti engaged the mod again, and her character giggled with her hands pressed to her face. Such animation is unnatural for a COD, but I'd have sworn she'd chosen her race for that kind of emotion, for the copper-skinned, big-eared half-breed had a way with it.
"I tried it, but I quit."
"Didn't go well?"
"I wanted to write a dystopia. So I could fight heroically for the freedom of Mankind."
"Neglected? Lazy?"
"No. It's just that I came up with such a scheme of enslavement that I couldn't find a way to overcome it. What's your work called?"
"Harry Potter and the Scroll of the Hokage"
I wrote it down, I'll have to check it out.
"That's enough talk. Viliti, go ahead."
I wonder how Viliti moves her ears? A mod, too?
"Pal, do you often bump into walls?"
Goddamn it! Do they want to interview me here? At Vacek's, everyone was talking amongst themselves, and I was minding my own business.
"No, I set the virt so that the outline of the room would always be displayed." My leg, which I kicked against the chair that pretended to be the door to the dungeon, suddenly ached.
"What about if the mob is behind the outlines?"
"I make a gesture with my fingers, and the character walks toward him. And I stand there, waiting until I'm in the center."
"It's all a bit unreliable."
"Loot!"
I sorted out the loot, handing a nice sword to the half-elf. Seventeen pieces of blue armor already!
"Boring! Epic, you said it was going to be a tough fight, but it's a total cakewalk, even though it's thick."
"Viliti, don't whine."
"Viliti, don't whine, Viliti, go ahead, Viliti, keep that mob! I'm sick of it! I want to fight!"
"Yes, it's hard, being a tank. But you keep on guarding us!"
"Oh, and you, Paladin. You want to tank?"
"Thank you, I'm fine here."
"Lazybones. All of you are lazybones. It's just me, poor little goblin, who does all the work for you!"
Viliti raised her hands, then a wave of change ran through her outfit.
"Viliti, what the hell?"
"WAGHHH!"
A small-eared tankard with two-meter swords in her hands rammed into the group of three monsters standing at the intersection and spun into a Whirlwind of Steel. The monsters' life bars slid down, as did the life bar of the bored warrior.
The priestess and I tensely held the decidedly amused co-girl for a minute, then the mobs finally crumbled into a cloud of dark flakes, and the half-elf expressed a common opinion:
"Petty one! What's with all the shenanigans? You think you're a 'death can'?"
"Ew, you boring!"
The long-eared one sat down on the stones of the floor and began to eat something. And I was sure that this "something" had worms falling from it. I did not look more closely.
"Dungeon is boring! You are boring! Poor me, poor me! No one to cheer me up! Sometimes it's hard to be a tank!"
I raised an eyebrow and watched the girl with interest. She wiggled her ears from time to time. She changed her outfit to protective gear again, jumped a meter up from her seat, and yelled:
"Let's go! I will lead you to the treasure!"
"Speaking of treasure - Pal, how much more is there?"
I made an estimate. My inventory was almost full: maybe I should start loading up my allies.
"You collect the rest. The main object is blue armor and its debris."
"I see. Blue is Amala's color, isn't it?"
"Yes," I answered mechanically and immediately thought about it. It was actually blue and white, but only the blue ones came up here. Shit, maybe I was wrong, and the quest debris didn't fall from regular monsters, only from the boss? Then I left the place correctly.
Apparently, after she'd vented her soul, Vilithi calmed down. Everything went on almost without incident - the archer lures out, the lancers hold, everyone finishes together, the half-elf picks up the loot, I and the priestess, or rather, the priestess and I heal. Everything is quiet, it's time to think about how to shrug off the fact that passing the dungeon has nothing to do with the story quest.
Or does it? The bard got his reward, and considerably more than I did. Could it be that I guessed? And then what do the guilders get? Fuck it. More important what will I probably have to sacrifice to keep them from getting too angry? We have time to get through the dungeon, so it will obviously be assigned to them. Then maybe other guilds will try to take the relic away. Maybe they'll even send units here to fight, but the Flame of Anor can get ownership of the dungeon. So, "sorry guys, my mistake. I do not claim the loot, and the relic is already yours. I was glad to go with such great teammates, please contact me if anything"? A grudge may remain, but nothing specific about the quest I did not say. Yeah, it's a little crooked, but there is a way out. Well...
"Oh, wow! It's Rare!" I turned to the half-elf, sniffing excitedly into the microphone. "Real Rare!"
He sent the parameters of an item he'd picked up from the creature's body to the chat. Necklace, +20 mana regeneration, +10% chance of a critical hit, no level requirements, and a regeneration limit of 120. All that remains is to enchant it in the Temple for a bonus to experience - and you can wear it up to level hundred or even more!
The group began to clamor, and the mage immediately put the rare item on himself, then came to his senses and handed it to the priestess. The group doubled their enthusiasm with the monsters - scraps of bone and dusty rags flew in all directions!
"We have arrived! Boss."
Wow, how quickly the time flew by! I sipped the rest of my coffee from the thermos and looked at my watch. An hour and a half of passing time. But it feels like fifteen minutes!
Once again, I took the protective scrolls out of my inventory and threw magic resistances on everyone. The fight wasn't the hardest, Vacek's boar was much more unpleasant. But here, he was cornered, and while Villithy and Mario held the big skeleton, hurling magic, the four of us shot him. If the group wasn't too strong, a creature like that could be a nuisance, but it couldn't do anything to this group.
"There's a relic! Just a second..."
A transfer ritual has been performed! Now the dungeon "Cellars of Taris Watch" belongs to the guild "Flame of Anor", part of the experience you earn will be transferred to the development of the Guild!
Please read the reference!
"Congrats!"
The guilders murmured, and I looked around. I was coming here for a reason, wasn't I? Surely there must be something, some secret, a mystery, a riddle?
I pulled out the True Sight scroll. I activated it and noticed on the floor near the far wall a faintly glowing circle outlined directly on the stones.
"Quiet!"
Everyone was silent, and I walked toward the circle. With each step I took, it became clearer, and I could see that the circle was made of misty walls rising from the floor and going up to the ceiling. In the circle itself, with his head down, stood a warrior in armor. More accurately, the ghost of a warrior. The bones of the fallen man lay on the floor in a dusty heap.
As I approached, I stopped and touched the faintly shimmering wall.
The ghost slowly raised his head. When he saw me, he smiled and began to say something.
I didn't hear a word.
"Brother, I don't understand you. Can ghosts communicate with the alive? Can you communicate with us?"
The ghost frowned, then closed his eyes, concentrating, and quietly, but clearly, his voice came through the headphones of my helmet:
Brother! I've been waiting for you! I was dying when the traitors attacked. Empowered by my Mistress I was able to leave my spirit to bind the local undead. That's the only reason they stayed here, instead of spreading out into the countryside, destroying the living. But now you can do it yourself.
"Pal, is he talking? I can't hear, I wonder!" I waved my hand at the big-eared one.
"Now that evil is dead. I can leave! I wish I could see the sun again, hear the songs, and stand shoulder to shoulder-with my friends. Duty is done, and my time has come..."
I frantically went through the records. It was here somewhere... it definitely was... here!
You are beside your friends, Brother. The sun - you will see it from Mistress' mansions. And the songs... listen.
I let the recording of the Temple service begin. The music and singing were inappropriate here, in a dark hall strewn with bones, but to the sound of "The Hymn of Healing" first came calmness, and then I smiled. If there's one thing I understand about quests and those who write them, it's that we're about to be rewarded!
The ghost's face contorted first with incomprehension and then with anger:
"Traitors. Traitors!"
The sword appeared in his hand, and the ghost stepped toward us, but as he left the circle that had once been drawn, the misty body began to melt, scattered with blue sparks, and in just a few moments, there was nothing left of the warrior. The circle shimmered and faded.
"So, Pal, what's up? Finished?"
I was quiet, and then I nodded. It seems the local screenwriters are a lot more cunning than I thought.
"What did he say? I didn't hear a word of it!"
"It doesn't matter. Is everyone's amulet ready? Then let's go home. We'll gather in ten minutes at the shrine of Amala."
I stepped down from the binding circle and walked up to the altar, kneeling down as usual.
"I see you had a hard time today, didn't you?"
The priest stopped next to me and, after a moment of silence, added:
"You found."
It was not a question.
"I found."
I opened my inventory and began laying the pieces of armor on the foot of the altar. There's a lot, though; I didn't raise my strength and dexterity for nothing; I can carry a lot.
"Very good!" I looked up. The priest was smiling happily. "This metal is truly filled with Her power! You have done a truly glorious deed and are worthy..."
"Brother."
The priest hesitated and looked at me questioningly. I turned to the gate of the Temple and waved my hand.
"That's only part of it. These worthy men... and not quite men... brought the rest. They belong to the guild that helped me strike down the evil that sprouted from the valiant remains. They will sure the place is completely cleansed of Darkness, and the armor of the fallen brothers returned to the temple. Let's get it out... here."
Apparently, the half-elf gave the command. We were no longer in a group; I couldn't hear, only watched as, one by one, my current classmates approached, and on the gray slabs of the footstool appeared broken old cuirasses, scraps of chainmail, flattened armlets, torn pieces of metal that had once covered the bodies of paladins. Then all five lined up, frozen...
"Damn it. Oh, for fuck's sake..." The half-elf said it quietly, but the whole sanctuary could hear it.
The priestess, who hadn't said more than three words in a row all day, was squealing, Willie was yelling, and the half-elf was standing perfectly still, his face frozen. He must have pulled off his glasses.
Two lines in the text log. One barely mattered to me:
Guild "Flame of Anor" increases its rank to four.
The other...
Completed a hidden mission - to find the burial of the fallen soldiers of the Temple.
Reputation increased by 10.
"That's it."
I wasn't even surprised. I was just watching Vility pulling out the most unthinkable jumps in her mod and Jah and Mario hugging each other and dancing the waltz.
I looked back and forth between them and the servants, who were quickly gathering up the pieces of blue armor and carrying them into the interior of the Temple. Not to the altar, not to the Reliquary. Somewhere else.
It was an interesting quest. And the reward is also... interesting.
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