Shadows of the Great Forest (Realm of Arkon, Book 4) Page 10

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Rexar made a surprised face. "Besides, there aren't any animals around here. Oh, and keep your envy to yourself," he flashed a wide grin.

  "Right, innocent as a dove, this one!" Donut returned his grin, then looked for support to Masyanya who was dutifully pretending that this conversation had nothing whatsoever to do with her.

  Not getting the backup he was hoping for, the assassin sighed and turned toward the tank instead.

  "What do you keep staring at?" he asked Bonbon. "You've even taken a break from chewing—an extraordinary feat in its own right. Or... wait, are you sick?!"

  "I'm studying the local artwork on the tabletop," the other snorted, indicating the classic four-letter combination with his finger.

  "And what is your expert opinion, o Bonbon the art critic?"

  "The execution is sloppy," the warrior said with the solemnity of an Olympic judge. "But I give the artists points for creativity. Even I haven't seen some of these combos—it's rather impressive."

  "And you, Alyona?" Max decided to change the subject. "You've been quiet for the second day now. Wondering what to do with the goddess' gift?"

  "What? Oh, it's not that... What else is there to do with it other than put in on the action bar?" replied the red-haired woman. "I spoke with my aunt—once yesterday and again today. She's being hospitalized again, so I won't be able to reach her for the next six weeks or so. I was hoping to figure out what's happening with Roman—there are some details I can't quite grasp. You know me, Max," the girl pushed her plate away and looked at him. "I don't like talking about something until I've gained a thorough understanding of the topic. And there are points in this story that have been bugging me for weeks..."

  "You mean the monster that Roman took down?" asked the assassin in the silence that enveloped the hall.

  "Yes, but not only," Alyona looked around the table. "There's also Kirana, and a dozen other things that are muddy at best. I've been taking notes on a parchment here, trying to piece it all together," the girl reached into her inventory and produced a sheet of paper covered with fine handwriting. "Some of the information is available in the chronicles, but—"

  "Slow down, Alyona. Let's start from the top," taking a sip of beer, Donut raised his hand, calling everyone to attention. "I happen to be the most experienced in the realities of this world. Tell me what your brother said, and I'll do my best to make sense of it, and to explain it as best I can."

  "Where do I begin?" Alyona crossed her arms and gave the rogue a searching look. "There's a lot there, and I'm not sure how to condense it, or even where to start."

  "Let's start with Kirana, then. Where did he meet the goddess, and what part did he play in her returning to this plane?" asked the rogue, clutching the tankard in his right hand.

  "He was traveling through some cursed princedom in the company of vampires, led by a level 400 vampire patriarch."

  At that point Donut went and choked on his beer, breaking into a coughing fit so violent that Luffy, who was sitting next to him, would spend a solid thirty seconds slapping him on the back. Wiping tears from his eyes as he recovered, the rogue took several deep breaths, then raised his eyes back at the redhead.

  "Are you telling me that your brother Roman was carrying something so important than an ancient vampire hostile to all the known sentient races by default was his security detail?" the assassin made an obvious effort to speak calmly, yet notes of hysteria punctuated his every word.

  "I'm only telling you what was said to me!" Alyona frowned. "And, for your information, Roman wasn't carrying anything. The vampire was taking him to some raid dungeon where my brother was supposed to procure some truesilver case. The patriarch was supposed to make some kind of arrangement with someone in the dungeon to facilitate the trade."

  "All right, let's suppose your aunt relayed everything correctly," Donut muttered in a conciliatory tone. "Now... what happened next?"

  "The goddess and her entourage attacked their party. All the vampires died. Roman gave her some kind of mirror that somehow ended up liberating her."

  "What mirror? Where did he get it?"

  "Kirana lost the mirror at some point in the past. And he looted it off the corpse of Shaartakh, whom he had killed in tandem with some human mage."

  "Never mind, I'm an idiot!" Donut exclaimed, then proceeded to massage his temples. "Kirana talked about that—I guess I haven't yet fully recovered from that battle. Shaartakh was an Elder Demon of the Netherworld—there was a system message about his death several hours after the patch!" he clarified in response to Max's confused gaze. "I didn't pay much attention to it at the time—there were other things on everyone's mind. Alyona, you were telling us that some assholes from the company created your brother's account just recently, right? Then I am absolutely freaking clueless how a low-level character like him could have taken down a level 400 raid boss, with or without the help of some badass mage... That's just unheard-of! And I won't even bother asking how a human mage ended up in Demon Grounds to begin with..."

  "You don't believe me?"

  "I didn't say that, did I? In fact, Kirana's words totally support your story. What I'd like to know is, how?! How could the two of them have snuffed out a raid boss, and an Elder Demon no less?!"

  "Roman said it was mainly the mage who was fighting the boss—he'd simply picked up the quest from him. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was the same quest that later took him to the cursed princedom with the vampires."

  "Give me a light, Max," Donut held out his hand.

  "I thought you didn't smoke?" Luffy snickered to his side.

  "Be grateful I'm containing myself to tobacco," the assassin muttered, pinching the cigarette between his teeth. "It's like the old joke..."

  "What joke?" sitting on the other end of the table, Bonbon suddenly perked up.

  "An old army joke," the rogue waved dismissively as he lit up, then looked back at Alyona. "You really have no idea how unbelievable all this sounds. A level 400 raid boss is like a hundred—no, a thousand bonehounds of the kind we had miraculously killed not long ago! I don't doubt your words, especially since the goddess said the same thing, and she certainly had no reason to lie to us. Still, the whole story is about as realistic as a couple of penguins climbing out from under this table and dancing the forbidden dance of lambada for our entertainment!"

  "Settle down, Donut, mkay?" Luffy gave the rogue a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then peeked under the table warily just to be on the safe side. "How about you share that joke of yours with the rest of us civilians? Might make you feel better."

  "The joke? Oh, all right, sure," the assassin nodded. "This crazy little story dates back to the time when the Soviet army had the so-called 'morale officers,' which were deputy commanders in charge of political indoctrination. It was relayed to me by this woman I knew," Donut gave Max a pointed look. "She graduated a motorized infantry command academy in her time. You know, emancipation and all that jazz. So anyway, the main characters are as follows: the general as the academy's superintendent, Colonel Sokolov as his morale officer, officer of the day, probably a lieutenant-colonel—alas, history didn't preserve his name. And the mess manager—Warrant Officer Zhuyboroda." Donut coughed while exhaling the cigarette smoke, then continued. "Now, for those who might not know—if a regiment loses their flag for whatever reason, it is immediately disbanded."

  "Right. Go on," Max nodded.

  "So, the general returns from vacation, and the officer of the day reports to him.

  "Comrade general! There have been no incidents during your absence, aside from Warrant Officer Zhuyboroda cutting his finger!"

  "What?" said the general. "What finger?"

  "His right ring finger, sir!"

  "What did he cut it on?"

  "On a piece of glass, comrade general!"

  "Where did he find a piece of glass?"

  "From the mess hall windows that exploded, sir!"

  "What?! There was an
explosion?!"

  "A warehouse with ordinance blew up, comrade general!"

  "What?! How?!"

  "A cigarette butt!"

  "Whose?! The guard's?!"

  "No, Colonel Sokolov's!"

  "But he doesn't smoke!"

  "Oh, he's done more than smoke since the regimental flag got pinched..."

  "Otherwise known as 'SNAFU'—Situation Normal, All Fucked Up," Bonbon declared with a chuckle.

  "All right, let's focus," putting out the cigarette, Donut looked back at the red-haired woman. "Let's pretend the part with Kirana is all figured out. Now, Alyona, tell us what happened with Nerghall."

  "I don't have any details about that," the girl frowned. "Roman simply said that he, or rather they got lucky, and promised to explain everything in person. I had to call again—all these calls have cost us almost three gold! Thankfully, he called me back. Anyway, as far as I understood, he killed this Nerghall not by himself but with his century of soldiers!"

  "What?! Wait a second, you said that he founded a clan with a bunch of farmers. Where did he get a hundred soldiers?!"

  "Not a bunch, but fourteen," the girl corrected him. "You weren't paying attention."

  "Um... I'll be right back."

  Slipping away from the table, Donut walked briskly to the bar, returning a minute later with a potbellied clay bottle and a stack of tin shot glasses.

  "Who's with me?" he looked around the table invitingly. "No one? All right, but I shall indulge. If only to lubricate my brain into better understanding the information relayed by our sister-in-arms."

  He filled up a shot glass, upended it, and reached for a baked apple. A scent of roasted almonds wafted across the table.

  "Now, help me understand how your brother was able to accept NPCs into his clan?"

  "What's so special about that?" Rexar wondered.

  "I'd like to see you try and recruit our innkeeper, or even that low-level elf working the vegetable patches outside. Don't bother trying—you can't! Not without earning that right, which is far from easy. Why else do you think players do all these social quests and seek employment from NPCs?"

  "Ingvar made my brother knight-lieutenant in his Order, granting him the ability to command a hundred NPCs. Presently he can command five hundred..."

  "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest," Donut grunted, pouring himself another shot of cognac.

  "Who's Ingvar?"

  "Shame on you, Max, for not knowing your own god," twirling the empty glass in his hand, the rogue set it back down on the table. "Ingvar is the god of warriors, though I can't imagine the circumstances under which your childhood friend would've crossed paths with him."

  "Roman recovered his wife's headdress from Vill's vault," Alyona looked down at the piece of paper before her. "Loaetia is her name, if I heard it correctly."

  "That explains it..." Donut looked around the table. "I trust I don't need to remind anyone that Vill is the very bastard everybody loves to hate nowadays? The one whose sculpture our valiant leader Max crushed with his almighty middle finger? As for Loaetia, she's a light elf and the goddess of mercy and medicine, if memory serves me right..."

  "Alyona, how did your brother get into the vault in the first place?" Masyanya turned to her girlfriend.

  "That part I'm not exactly clear on, either," the redhead shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. "All I know is that he had to remove all his clothing, including his loincloth..."

  "So he simply undressed and entered the vault of a Twice Cursed god? Your bro is a hotshot!" said Bonbon, eager as ever to put in his two cents.

  "And you're an idiot," Alyona gave a compassionate sigh and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "He was sent there by Bel to recover an amulet that contained the soul of his cherished pupil."

  "Bel?" Donut giggled in a way that Max felt genuine concern for his friend's sanity. "So the god of thieves is also in the mix! And why not—the more, the merrier! If you care at all about my mental health, my dear Alyona, you will explain to me how Bel figures into this story. For two years I've been dreaming of snatching even one glimpse of him... They say he reveals himself only to those who are worthy, but what could your mage brother have possibly done—what king or deity could he have robbed—to merit the attention of the god of thieves?! Or maybe the two of them were sitting around one day, feasting and boozing, and suddenly decided: 'Hey, why don't we steal from that buttmunch Vill? You know, for shits and giggles?'"

  "You're not that far off," the young woman smiled. "Bel appeared to my brother at some pub, and they did have wine, I believe. Though he was pretending to be someone else at the time. Anyway, he gave him the quest and disappeared. And I honestly didn't know he was the god of thieves."

  "Isn't that precious..." Donut poured himself another shot and downed it, ignoring the reproachful looks from the women at the table. "Let's recreate the sequence of events that happened to your brother," he muttered. "So, he and Bel are chillaxing at a pub. Then, Roman sneaks into the vault and obtains Loaetia's bonnet, which he hands over to Ingvar who's also there for some reason. Finally, the warrior god makes him a knight of his order. Right?"

  "Knight-lieutenant," Alyona corrected him. "And her headdress was actually a diadem."

  "Oh, what does it freaking matter?!"

  "It matters," the girl objected. "And he didn't just waltz into the vault and grab the amulet with the diadem. The passage of time inside the vault was all screwed up. Roman spent two months roaming through different locations and slaughtering a ton of mobs, whereas outside of the vault only several hours had passed..."

  "He was killing mobs naked?!" Donut exclaimed, wide-eyed.

  "What beats a hotshot? A superstar? Then your bro is a superstar!" Bonbon added in support. "Especially considering what he must've had to use for a weapon in his state of undress..."

  "Oh, you guys are just horrible!" Alyona shot back, barely holding back laughter. "I didn't really get all the details, either..."

  "Well, at least that clears up why the warrior god marked him—I'd be shocked if he hadn't..." the assassin nodded, already quite soused. "Moving on. Why did Ingvar send him to destroy this Lord of Darkness afterwards?"

  "Also a mystery," the girl shrugged her shoulders. "Roman said that an undead army headed by a level 250 raid boss—a bonehound, actually—helped him take down Nerghall."

  "Where did he get them? And how did he get them on his side?" the rogue was a pitiable sight.

  "And it was Cephata who tasked him with slaying Nerghall," Alyona added, ignoring his questions.

  "Celphata," Donut corrected her mechanically. "Well, that makes perfect sense," folding his arms on the table, he dropped his head wearily, and was silent.

  "Who's Celphata?" asked Max.

  "Only the goddess of death," Donut looked up at him with a mad grin. "Oh, and I should mention the only ones who can talk to her are elder necromancers whom she'd personally taken into her service. Guess how many players are among them? Zero! And if anyone else so much as catches a glimpse of her, they die," he explained, spreading his arms comically.

  "That's not true. Roman spoke with her after Nerghall's death."

  "I believe you!" the rogue broke into a maniacal laugh. "Seeing as she'd put him in charge of an army of three thousand undead, why not have a chat with the man after they took down a level 500 boss? By the by, did your brother happen to run into any other divine beings during his travels?"

  "Well..." Alyona knitted her brow. "You mentioned something about Setara's shrine earlier... I think that she did bestow some kind of gift upon my brother. And right before he and I spoke, he was talking to Syrat—he's a god, too, isn't he?"

  "For the love of..." Donut dropped his head back down. "Syrat, the god of hatred, is the other Twice Cursed God. He and his brother Vill made a real mess once upon a time..."

  A long silence settled over the table. Max was the first to break—he kept seeing visions in his head of his childhood friend who no longer looked anythin
g like the Roman he knew. With a sigh, the warrior poured himself a shot of cognac and gulped it down. The taste and burning sensation barely even registered.

  "The regimental flag..." he muttered, reaching for a smoke.

  "No incidents whatsoever, comrade general..." Donut said without looking up, matching his tone.

  "All right, I've had enough of all this drama," Alyona said, standing up sharply. "Masyanya, please give me the key—I look forward to a good night's rest in a bed for a change."

  Taking the key from her friend, the young woman headed upstairs.

  "You guys... Not a... not a word about this to anyone..." Rising from his chair, Donut stuck a finger at the huntress sitting across. "It's not worth it... They'll send us to a loony bin... fry our brains with mental magic... Good thing my brain is already fried..." the rogue gave a drunken smirk, snatched up the room key, and stumbled after Alyona. "Imma get some sleep... Maybe I'll wake up and all this will have been a dream..." he mumbled as he began his wobbly ascent.

  "Mm-hmm," Bonbon scratched his bald head, then reached for the bottle. "I happen to agree with our inebriated friend. No use telling anyone else. Let's wait till her brother and your friend get back to the surface, and then we'll all be one big happy clan. Those two kills alone have netted him and his clanmates eleven percent to damage. But something tells me he's nowhere close to retiring, is he?"

  "I don't know," Max said honestly, shaking his head. "But fair enough. Everyone has been issued pocket gold for some R&R, so feel free to enjoy the city, but handle your business as well. Let's be ready to set out no later than three days from today."

  Chapter 7

  "Did you forget something, nerds?" said Andrey Somov, nicknamed Rhino—a tall and burly seventh-grader and a bully infamous throughout the school. He spat on the ground, crossed his arms, and stared at the fifth-graders blocking his way, every inch of him radiating scorn.

  "We are your doom, you ginger asshole!" yelled a scrawny dark-haired Roman Kozhevnikov, diving at Rhino's feet and grabbing his ankles. A hard yank, and the stunned hoodlum's massive carcass came crashing down.