Страница 6 из 78
Choose a name.
Good question. Wouldn’t be nice to walk around a fantasy world with Max as a moniker. I clicked through the name generator until I decided on Laith. In Elven, La stands for "night" and Ith means "a child". Child of Night. I had to take my character seriously. The deeper the immersion, the higher the chances of going perma.
"Laith."
Welcome to AlterWorld, Laith. You’re facing an eternity's worth of infinite possibilities.
While I tried to fathom out that last bit, the virtuality faded, enveloping me in thick darkness. I waggled my head peering into nothing.
Sounds came first. The trees rustled. A grasshopper chirped. A bird whistled. Then the world gained light and color, smothering me with its beauty. A forest breathed around me. No; not just any old forest: the forest. Have you ever been to an Elven forest? I hadn’t. But you’ll know it the moment you see it. A little brook murmured nearby; butterflies fluttered their wings amid sunrays dancing in the foliage. The depth and intensity of the image left you speechless. I crouched and ran my hand across the carpet of flowers and grass.
"Hi there, new world," I whispered. "I’m afraid we’re stuck here together for a long time."
A long-eared hare sprang out into the opening. As I stared at it, a prompt popped up:
A young rabbit. Level 1.
Okay, a rabbit, not hare. Same difference. Enjoy your freedom, buddy, while I’m in a good mood and have better things to do with my time.
Only then I noticed the game interface. Semi-transparent chat boxes; the life, mana and experience bars; the belt with quick spell access slots empty as yet. I played with the transparency levels and shuffled the icons around. I had plenty of time to adjust it all to suit my own needs.
Talking about myself. My rags were just about that—rags. A light-colored canvas shirt and a pair of gray canvas pants. As far as Elves went, I was a bum. Never mind. Just give me some time to level up a bit, and I’ll be wearing Versace tights, or whatever they crave here.
I opened the character menu and saw that my clothing was purely decorative. It didn’t offer any extra stats or even armor points. I opened my shoulder bag and discovered a water flask and a piece of bread. Another prompt popped up:
Food plays an important role in the AlterWorld territories. A hungry character’s ability to restore life and mana may dwindle to a stop. Keep an eye on your avatar’s satiety levels. Some food and drink may bring extra boost bonuses. In order to be able to make your own food, you need to practice the cooking skill. See Wiki for more details on bonuses and skills.
For a second, I regretted letting the rabbit go unscathed. A roast is always better than a moldy roll. Never mind. There had to be more game out there.
My eye was caught by a blinking FIVR co
Ping: 3 milliseconds. Packet loss: 0%. Co
Yess! It worked. Deep inside, I'd had a nagging feeling that either the chip or the patch would let me down despite all the testing, throwing me out of FIVR four hours later. That would be the end. Bye, world. Hello, tombstone.
The next thing I saw was the lit-up pictogram of the quest tab. I switched over to it and discovered a new quest.
Greetings, young Warlock! A long and hard road lies in front of you. Few have mastered it. But a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. You’re about to make this first step. There is a cave not far from the place where you first arrived in this world. Old Grym lives there, a hermit. Local peasants think he’s mad and shy away from his company. But Grym is still the Fallen One's faithful servant. He will help you. Follow the deer trail to go east. It will take you to your destination.
Aquilum, The Dark Guild Master of the City of Light.
A guild master without a guild. Okay. When I’d chosen the race, I’d also studied the city map. I could bet my bottom dollar there’d been no Dark Guild on it. Unfortunately, time was an issue so I had to leave Googling it till later. Shame. I had to play blind - no guides, no manuals or prompts. Just like in the good old days.
Having said that, many an unexpected surprise could open to the newly initiated. We’d just have to see. In the meantime, all eyes east. Time to hop down the bu
I checked the interface for its built-in compass and walked, unhurried, down the barely discernible trail. The total absence of weapons and spells worried me a little. Failing everything else, I could do with a stick but the forest was clean and neat like a parkland—not a broken branch in sight.
I didn’t have to walk long. Another couple hundred paces, and the trees gave way revealing a gloomy opening. Gray grass crunched underfoot. Ancient trees rose skywards, their trunks silver with moss. The sun had disappeared behind some stray cloud.
Yeah. Welcome to a Necro’s lifestyle. I squinted at the scene. And the worst was still to come: graveyards and zombies, and the tombs of the undead.
I wondered if I’d jumped the gun with my character choice considering the local visualization levels. Should I exit while I still could and change my colors to some sort of daisy-picking, tree-hugging Druid? Deep in thought, I kicked a toadstool or some such mushroom and volleyed it right into the wide hollow of a gnarled oak tree.
"Never mind," I murmured, looking around. "No good changing horses midstream. I’m an evil warlock, and no mistake. Where’s that cave of his? Come out, you old schemer! We’ve got business to discuss!"
And there it was, his cave: a cliff green with age hiding in the shade of a straggling fir tree. The entrance was wide enough for me not to have to duck. I made a shaky step or two, guided by the fire gleaming within its bowels. Another step, and I entered a large room dimly lit by a single wax candle. The light played games with the shadows, not letting me see properly. Then a shadow stirred in the corner and stared at me with two odd-color eyes.
"Grym the Hermit?" I asked, not quite sure, and stepped back, feeling the air around me for something heavy enough to pass for a weapon.
The dark shape in the corner grumbled and stepped toward me.
"You bastard," my fingers finally closed around something handy by the wall. I raised the object and took a swing. "Name yourself, O monster! Which eye you’d prefer to keep, the blue one or the yellow one?"
The shadow gave a skeptical chuckle and stepped into the light. A goblin, short and gray-haired, shook the cobwebs off his patched robes and looked over me.
"Put the broom back, young warrior," he said in a thin voice.
Shuffling his worn-out sandals, he walked around me, shaking his head with disapproval. "So! The young Elf has decided to defect and follow the Fallen One? Are you craving adventures or something? What do you want to prove? Many an immortal has visited me here but few have reached true power. They’d hover around for a few weeks before disappearing from sight. They have no will - no passion."
I lowered my head to him. "Sir Grym, one does not choose one’s parents. It's not my fault I was born an Elf. It was my own choice to follow the path of a warlock and with any luck, I shall prove it to you soon."