Shadows of the Great Forest (Realm of Arkon, Book 4) Page 6

  "We thank you for trusting us with this quest, Mistress. We shall find the temple and do as you asked." With those words, he produced the fang received from Aeoli and handed it to the deity. "A local dryad asked us to pass this to you," he said, while thinking to himself, Why couldn't that girl just do it herself? Some kind of game laws we players can't comprehend? Or maybe dryads can't talk to goddesses? The devil himself would break a leg tripping over these conventionalities!

  Taking the item from him, Kirana set to studying it. Suddenly the goddess' face became warped with such hatred that Max felt uneasy. A ripple ran over Kirana's body, and the next moment the stunned companions were looking at a six-foot-six knight in charcoal-black armor, a blood-red glow radiating from the slits of the visor. Max felt as if an elephant had just climbed onto his shoulders as a flurry of strange images flashed through his mind: dreary plains and crimson skies, the air drenched with death and desolation. A demon horde attacking a squad of plate-clad warriors, bunched together with spears thrust outward like a giant metal porcupine. A colossal arachnid-like creature impaled with an enormous Ice Spear rolling on the ground with a blood-chilling wail, crushing row after row of attacking foes. An eighteen-foot black demon swinging a flaming two-handed mallet as if it were a toothpick. The images flooded in, tripping over one another, until there was just one final scene: a battlefield littered with corpses, and a group of riders at the very edge, barely visible to the naked eye...

  "Bastard! How dare he!!!" the goddess' yelp of rage yanked Max out of the maelstrom of visions just as he was starting to feel his sanity slip away.

  He must have made for a miserable sight indeed, for the woman—if you could call this giant a woman—dialed it back at once, and Max felt the pressure on his consciousness weaken. Masyanya swore into the party channel as Ellanca dropped to her knees with a soft groan, clutching her head at the temples. Only Luffy seemed peeved, like an obnoxious teenager whose parents had just shut off his favorite anime. What if we hadn't become adepts just minutes ago? Max couldn't help but wonder. His gut suggested the whole lot of them would have become prime candidates for the loony bin.

  "Urgot, that swamp abomination, took advantage of my absence to sic Cenatodone on this section of the Great Forest!" Kirana explained in a voice spitting with fury. "The Ancient Beast feeds on the life force of trees that cannot oppose the onslaught of the Great Swamp! Neither I nor my companions can intervene directly, but..." a small green rod appeared in the goddess' hands, which she then extended to Max.

  You've accessed the quest: Cenatodone.

  Quest type: epic.

  Use the Mark of Kohel to summon Cenatodone, and slay it!

  Reward: experience, increased reputation with Kirana the Goddess of Vengeance, admittance into the Order of the Two-Faced Goddess (if already a member of the order, promotion to a higher rank), increased reputation with dark and light elves, unknown.

  Attention! To complete this quest you will need at least one hundred level 120+ allies.

  Attention! The Mark of Kohel is a personal consumable item with a three-hour limit on use. If Cenatodone isn't killed within three hours, you will have failed the quest.

  Penalty for failing the quest: decreased reputation with Kirana the Goddess of Vengeance, demotion to the lowest rank if a member of the Order of the Two-Faced Goddess.

  "Kohel was an archmage from the time before the War of the Great Rift. He had killed many monsters like Cenatodone," the goddess explained, now in a calm tone. "Sadly, Kohel was killed in the war, and this rod was given to me by one of his apprentices. The Ancient Beast is tough—too tough for you to handle without help. You will need allies. However, I will reward handsomely those who distinguish themselves in this effort."

  Max accepted the small wooden stick, its tip shaped like a pine comb, from Kirana's hands. He examined it quickly and put it away into inventory.

  "If we are to find allies, we're going to need to find a way out of this swamp."

  "Yes, of course. Daevelnus will get you to Ellorian," the goddess nodded at a tall warrior in plate, waiting expectantly by the entrance to the shrine, into which the others had dragged the captive necromancer a few minutes prior. "You will report to him after Cenatodone is slain."

  Another ripple went through her body, and the goddess reverted back to her usual human—or rather elven—form.

  You've learned the spell: Portal Creation to the Shrine of the Two-Faced Goddess.

  Casting time: 10 seconds.

  Mana cost: none.

  Cooldown: 240 hours.

  Opens a 5-minute portal to the chosen shrine of the Two-Faced Goddess for all the members of your party.

  "The best location to summon the monster is close to where you found the fragment of the Inexorable. Now, finish up whatever business you have on this island. You have thirty minutes..."

  "Mistress! Forgive me, but could you help clarify what's written here?" Max hurriedly produced the scroll received from Phylatrim. "It appears to be some extinct, forgotten language..."

  Taking from him the document discolored with time, Kirana peered into the fuzzy hieroglyphics.

  "What's the world coming to," she chuckled bitterly, "when Ancient Elvish is becoming forgotten," the young woman traced a hand along the leather surface, then handed back the scroll. "Some of the lettering didn't survive the centuries, but you should be able to read it now."

  You've completed the quest: Mysteries of History.

  You have gained a level! Current level: 83.

  You have 7 talent points to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to constitution, +1 to strength.

  You have 21 stat points to allocate.

  You've accessed the quest: Mysteries of History II.

  Quest type: unique.

  Show the scroll to Redcliff the Whisperer, Master Instructor of the High House of Nightcrawlers.

  Reward: experience, unknown.

  "What's going to happen to the necromancer and all of them?" stepping out from behind Max, Alyona gestured at the Ravens' corpses.

  "They will serve their master personally," the goddess gave an ill-boding grin. "Now, if that will be all..."

  Suddenly the goddess' brows began to arch upward. Taking a step forward, she peered into the young woman's face.

  "Taure yende?" Kirana whispered with incredulity. For her part, Alyona seemed quite taken back by the sudden attention. "You have a brother! The one confined to the plane inaccessible to your kind..."

  "You know about Roman?! How is he?!" all the color seemed to flee from Alyona's face, and she stood there, breathless with anticipation.

  Kirana closed her eyes for a moment. Her eyelids were quivering, as though she were looking somewhere far beyond the doors of human perception.

  "He's doing fine, girl. Your brother is a great warrior! It was by his hand that Shaartakh and Nerghall have fallen, and he is the sole reason I've been allowed to return to this plane. When I met him, he asked me to pass something to you... Alas, the laws of this world do not allow such things, but that doesn't mean I can't give you a present from me personally..."

  Kirana caressed Alyona's cheek gently, then took a step back, as if admiring her work.

  "But how do I find him?" the young woman muttered in dismay.

  "He will find you," the goddess smiled. "Farewell for now, and good luck in your hunt for Cenatodone!"

  With a nod goodbye, Kirana spun around and made for the entrance to the shrine.

  "Holy crap!" Donut was the first to break the silence. "So that's what the system message from before was about! That was a level 550 raid boss! Do you realize how unreal that is?! Even Xahrien sub-400 when the Azure Dragons killed him! I shudder to imagine what your brother has become if the gods themselves speak of him with reverence in their voices..."

  "Oh, hush it, will you?" Masyanya gave him a shove in the shoulder. "Can't you see she needs time to process all this?"

  "Right, my bad," the rogue put up his hands defensively. "A
lyona, can you at least tell us what that present was?"

  "Moonfire... Now your healer can dish out decent damage," the flame-haired woman gave a sad smile.

  "All right, let's cut out the chitchat," Max broke in. "We'll have plenty of time to yammer after we get off this island. Everybody get your things and let's go see that spindly fella in a lime-green cloak."

  "How much did you say was the reward for these bastards' heads?" Bonbon inquired casually of Donut.

  "A thousand for the leader, and twenty each for the rest, I think..."

  "Well, then, feel free to call me every name in the book, but I'm going to go get ourselves paid. I don't think our new friends will need, um, all of their victims' bodies..." the bald-headed warrior mused. Then, with a decisive grunt, he produced a hatchet from his inventory, and started toward the heap of blackened PKers' bodies.

  "I happen to fully support our follicly challenged friend, even if he does get a sick kind of satisfaction from this," Masyanya muttered aloud, looking at the distancing Bonbon. "In fact, I regret not having a hatchet of my own..."

  Chapter 5

  "How much?" Max exhaled.

  "Why the surprise, young man?" the tall fair-haired elf gave a shrug without looking away from the glass he was polishing. "Mine are the lowest room rates in the environs of Ellorian. It is for this reason, in fact, that I currently don't have any vacancies."

  "You call four gold per night a low rate? I stayed here barely a month ago, and paid only a silver coin for a room."

  "Quite right, and you were accompanied by a mage apprentice. I'm glad to see that since then you've managed to earn the respect of my people," with the glasses finally polished, the innkeeper gave the late would-be patrons a weary look. "Much has changed in the past month. Tons of adventure-seekers and opportunists have been pouring in, driving up prices for certain goods and services by an order of magnitude. And two weeks ago His Majesty Larentyl ratified the Grand Council's decree to multiply certain taxes and duties by three..."

  Despite the late hour, the spacious and well-lit dining hall of the inn was fairly busy. There wasn't any rowdiness, no drunken shouting or brawling; rather, all player conversations blended together into a continuous medley of background noise. The air was thick with tobacco, beer and barbecue. There were barely any empty seats, and Max was surprised to discover that he couldn't see a single player below level 50. This despite the fact that they were in a zone that maxed out at 20! Then again, he needn't be surprised—at four gold per night, and assuming analogous prices in nearby establishments, this place was well beyond the means of all but the most affluent lowbies. Four hundred bucks just to visit your private room! And that included the discount for being "respected" by the dark elf faction... Stop!

  "Hold on a second. Did you just say there aren't any vacancies?!" he stared incredulously at the innkeeper.

  "Afraid so, warrior. All thirty three rooms on the second floor are occupied," the elf confirmed. "Rooms four and seven will free up by lunchtime tomorrow. If you're interested, I recommend putting down a deposit."

  "Does any of this make sense to you?" Max turned his gaze to Donut, standing on his left.

  The rest of their party had remained outside. Bonbon, Rexar and Luffy had gathered all the flasks and had gotten in line for the spring, and the girls simply had simply wanted nothing to do with the building's smoke-filled interior.

  "No more than it does to you," the rogue sniffed, then looked back at the innkeeper. "Tell me, my good man, how much for a tankard of beer?"

  "To stay or to go?"

  "In light of this new information, to go, I suppose."

  "Four gold for a two-gallon keg. Freshly delivered from the western border." The elf's lips parted in a light smile. "Oh, and each keg comes with a free piece of advice."

  "What advise is that?" Max chuckled, laying out four stacks of ten silver coins out on the bar.

  "It appears that you intend on spending the night under the open sky? If so, then I must strongly recommend against building a campfire in Ellorian's vicinity. The latest magistrate decree set the fine at ten gold coins per every sentient offender, or a one-month sentence at a copper mine, with eighty percent of the earnings garnished by the treasury. Work conditions at the Caëntine Mines aren't the most comfortable, so if you must subject yourself to them, you might as well earn the standard fifty percent." The elf disappeared into a cellar, then reemerged with a two-gallon keg in his hands. Placing the keg on the bar, he smiled again. "Luckily, there's another option. If you're hungry for some hot food, the sucking-pig will be done in five minutes or so. I would be happy to serve it to your party alongside freshly baked bread and roasted vegetables."

  Recognizing their silence as a sign of consent, the innkeeper hailed the passing barmaid.

  "Maernie, please see to it that our friends are taken care of," he said with a smile. Then, with a friendly nod to Max, he turned toward the next customer.

  "Things just keep getting weirder and weirder," Donut reflected with a chuckle as they were leaving the inn, twenty seven silver coins poorer than before.

  In the meantime, the dusk outside had turned to blackness, and the night's sky had filled out with twinkling cobwebs of constellations unfamiliar to Max. From their position, the tree line surrounding the small settlement was a swaying wall of impenetrable darkness. The enormous moon—half-concealed by clouds—looked like a pancake ripped in half. The scent of forest flowers in the air was intoxicating.

  There were plenty of folks outside despite the late hour. Most of them were players—rushing about their business, their faces determined and grim. The inn's courtyard was well-lit. A young and long-haired level 17 ranger named Erlic was fussing about one of the side structures, pouring something out of a burlap sack into a wooden bucket, a soft growling coming from his right. A patrol of four level 200 elven females came sauntering through the open gates.

  "I gotta tell ya, bro," Donut said contemplatively as he watched the lithe powerful figures pass. "Something has definitely changed in this world... I feel like someone went and flipped a color picture upside down, and now it's the black-and-white side that's showing. Everything seems so slick and polished at a glance, like we're in some German suburbs. And yet, there's something in the air, something rotten that's causing the hair you know where to stand on end."

  "I'm guessing you don't mean your head," Max grunted as he waved at the girls waiting for them across the street. "So, off we go to the woods? We've got a ton of food, and almost as much beer. After we knock back a few, I bet the picture will flip back to the color side. You coming?"

  "Hold on, not just yet," Donut touched his arm, then hailed the ranger toiling in the yard. "Hey, mister, mind if we ask you a few questions?"

  "For a few silver pieces, you can ask me as many as you want," the other replied with a slight accent, flashing a wide grin.

  "So it's like that, huh?" the rogue was looking pissed, so Max touched his shoulder to keep him calm.

  "With these prices, all he's asking for is a tankard of beer," he snorted. "That's a fair offer, don't you agree?"

  "I wish I could spend it on beer," the ranger drew a sigh after deftly catching the coins that twinkled in the moonlight as they flew by. "I'm saving up for a decent bow, and that'll cost at least thirty gold at the auction house. As soon as I upgrade, I'm getting out of this dump and to a normal zone."

  "An uncommon bow of your level costs thirty gold now?" Donut's eyes went round.

  "Why uncommon? I'll take a level 20 rare, thank you very much," Erlic clarified. "The recipe is a common enough drop, and there's a shit-ton of crafters around nowadays. It would be even cheaper if the bowyers didn't need to buy ingredients for the bow-string from elves, and those pointy-eared hyenas are charging an arm and a leg nowadays... But I don't need to tell you—you've just been to the inn."

  "That sounds pretty low to me," the assassin shook his head. "A weapon like that used to cost closer to a hundred."

 
; "Used to being the operative word," the kid chuckled. "But don't get too giddy—at your level, you shouldn't expect to upgrade any slot with a rare for less than one fifty. Not too many volunteers to explore high-level zones and dungeons these days."

  "Why is that?"

  "Shoot, have you Slavs been living under a rock?" the kid took a seat on a nearby crate, shaking his head incredulously. "Fine, listen. Since the patch, any instance that's already been cleared once is automatically adjusted to the level of the highest player in the party that enters it. That's assuming the dungeon is of a lower level than said player."

  "Could you explain that in simple terms?" Donut grimaced. "And why would you assume we're Slavs?"

  "After working for Aulen for a solid month—that's the elf behind the counter you spoke with—I've heard every accent under the sun. And I've gotten pretty good at telling them apart. Hungarians, Bulgarians, Russians and Tatars do this thing when they draw out their vowels, and—"

  "Tatars aren't Slavic," the assassin corrected him.

  "Yeah, right..." Erlic scratched his head. "Who are they, then? It's all the same land... And besides, the point is you all speak the same way. Me, I'm from Sheffield, England. In my past life my father had a stud farm, so I get on well with animals. Got myself a job here as a groom, and I like it. But sometimes a bloke comes riding in on some monstrosity that—"

  "Stop," Max stopped the kid's verbal stream with a gesture. "Go back. What were you saying about dungeons?"

  "Ah, right," Erlic smiled. "Let's take a level 20 dungeon. The first time we go in there, all the mobs will be for level 20 players, with drops to match. But if any one of us goes in there a second time, assuming we're still locked out, then the dungeon's level would soar to match your level 83 while the loot would remain the same. Oh, and the drop rate would be cut to one tenth the usual. It all started happening one day before the great expulsion. People were pissed for a few days. Only whereas before you could log out and go bitching and moaning on the forums, your only recourse now is to head to the nearest temple and complain to the gods. And I don't see the gods giving a damn..."