Chapter 8
Welcome to the Realm of Arkon, Max…
"I made it!" Max took a small step forward, struggling to keep his balance, and pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to mitigate the splitting headache pulsing in his skull. "I'm alive!"
"You're a tough one, bro," a tall dark-haired guy dressed in rags, who was passing by, nodded respectfully. "I lay flat on my back for about five minutes after the jump, but look at you—you've managed to stay on your feet!"
Max wiped cold sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his coarse-wave shirt, taking a few deep breaths, and finally allowed himself to take a good look around. "Knock me sideways!" he breathed out in admiration as he took in the splendor that surrounded him. Majestic trees of enormous size stretched hundreds of feet upwards. Their luxuriant canopy was like a sunlit ocean sparkling with every shade of green imaginable. Inexplicably, enough sunlight filtered through to sustain fresh growth below, which, in turn, was breathtaking—a wide variety of plants filling the air with pleasant aromas. This beauty was augmented by the elven architecture, which seemed to exist in perfect harmony with the vegetation and complement the forest in its exquisite elegance. Elves resided inside the trunks of trees, which kept on growing untroubled, as though by virtue of kinship with the creatures living within.
The only thing spoiling the view were a few hundred other players dressed the same as Max. He wondered why none of them seemed to be doing anything—they just sat on the grass and talked, gesturing wildly, while others roamed the wood without any visible purpose. About fifty yards away away a group of young men and women with flowers in their hair were dancing at an impromptu disco. He felt as though he paid a visit to the Moscow Botanical Gardens and ended up at a mixed hippie/emo party. The hair color of those around him ranged from snow-white to raven-black; many had tattoos and piercings of all sorts on their faces, and as for the ears…
The ears! Max felt the rims of his ears and gave a mirthless laugh. But of course, I'm an elf now. He shook his head. Why couldn't Alyona choose a human character? Still, his ears felt the same as usual under his fingers, and the shape was hardly a problem—he'd get used to it. He took a good look at his hands, just in case, and then felt his face. All the sensations appear to be the same as before.
"You should feel yourself between the legs while you're at it," smirked a dark-haired fellow lounging on the grass some twenty yards away. He had a stick of some sort in his lap, which vaguely resembled the handle of a spade. "Are you disabled?"
"Why would you think that?" Max approached the guy and sat down on the grass next to him.
"About thirty-six hours have passed since the patch—the first wave here were those who had nothing to lose IRL." He stuck his thumb in his chest. "A few days later, once everyone realizes what's going on, there'll be hordes of people here." The guy sighed heavily and turned away, ending the conversation.
What a weirdo! He should be overjoyed, but look at him sitting there all mopey, thought Max as he opened his character's menu. Having never played games of this sort before, he had spent the whole night before his departure in front of his computer, choosing a suitable class for his character and then memorizing the guide. He had no time to manage anything else—he was afraid that the opportunity to relocate to the Realm of Arkon might cease to be available any moment, which would forever separate him from the only people he'd ever cared about. His race was chosen for him—since Alyona had decided to become a dark elf for whatever reason, he had no choice in the matter—an elf is an elf is an elf.
The game's interface was intuitively understandable—the semi-transparent square with system messages, eight slots on the action bar, and three additional bars for HP, energy and mana. One could access the skills and abilities displayed on the action bar from within one's head as well, but the author of the beginners' guide recommended to keep it visible until around level 30, so that one could have visual confirmation of every action. He was physically incapable of reading all the system messages displayed at login after the surge of pain that had jolted through his body, but now that he was feeling perfectly fine again, Max tried to concentrate on the text and ignore the shouts of joy coming from all over the place.
Welcome to the Realm of Arkon, Max. You are currently in the village of Armilan in Sunlit Forest (zonw level 1-8). Sunlit Forest and the adjacent areas are starting zone for the race of dark elves. We remind you that attacking friendly NPCs or other players in starting locations is prohibited. You can leave a starting zone anytime by passing through the Origin Gates and entering a suburb of Ellorian, the dark elf capital. However, the administration strongly advises against doing this before your character reaches level 10, since you will not be able to return. Get your first quest from Mentor Almaren. His location is indicated on your map.
The guide said you should never leave starting zones before reaching level 15, the highest that could be achieved there. The enormous amount of people in the outside word would inevitably make leveling a great deal harder. Max glanced toward an enormous tree that served as the local town hall. There were two sullen elves standing at the entrance, level 50 each. Max sighed heavily. He surely wanted to find Alyona as soon as he could, but what was the next step? He needed to be able to protect her. What could he do now, having never played games of this sort before? Any kid would know tons more about these things than he. Therefore, he grudgingly swore to himself to follow the guide's recommendations.
According to the author, one needed around five days to get to level 15. He was prepared to spend this time here. According to Alyona, she was already level 21; however, leveling up was anything but easy here, so she was unlikely to get too far ahead. As for experience, he was nothing if not tenacious. Nothing ever came easy to Max. He was twenty one when his mother died, and he managed to find the resolve to keep on practicing his swimming, then graduate from the Moscow Power Engineering Institute, which he had gotten into without any connections or privileges, summa cum laude. This was followed by six years of slaving for a company. At the age of twenty eight he invested all his savings into a business of his own. Now he had to work even more, and it wasn't his fault when the company he had founded went bankrupt. A week later his wife left him, and the young man suddenly realized there was hardly anything to his life but his work. He suddenly discovered that his school friend Roman—and Roman's beauty of a sister, whom he saw often since the two lived in the same apartment block—were the most important people in his life. His feelings for Alyona had long gone beyond mere friendship, so it didn't take him long to decide. When his friend called him to report he'd gotten stuck in some godforsaken gaming plane, Max had already made up his mind.
After talking to Roman's aunt, he called his ex and told her he was leaving the real world for the game. Then he smoked half a pack of cigarettes in the kitchen, building up his courage, and then, finally, got into the gaming capsule…
"Why so gloomy, boys? Come celebrate with us!"
Max's recollections were interrupted by a tall and slender elven maiden that stood about fifteen feet away. She looked just like an anime character—regular people's eyes re never so large or so green. The picture was complemented by D cups and incredibly long and slender legs. The girl spoke with a slight accent. The game used a single common tongue, translating into it from a large number of other languages, but players opined that native speakers of different languages could still hear a slight accent in non-natives' voices.
"Thanks, gorgeous," his eyes stopped for a second on the two undone top buttons of her blouse that revealed the girl's cleavage in the most tantalizing way. "I just got here. Gotta get my thoughts together. Maybe later…"
"Suit yourselves," the girl snorted, eyed Max's neighbor, who never uttered a word, and turned around sharply, heading for another nearby group of young men sitting on the grass with spring in her step.
"I could get used to this," said Max, his eyes following the girl.
"Indeed," his taciturn neighbor
finally spoke up, his thousand-yard stare fixed on the clearing where new players kept emerging from the golden fog, alone and in small groups. They turned up on the grass in different postures, stayed motionless for a while, then rose, and walked away shakily.
So, what about those stats? Max could see his neighbor's reluctance to get on with the conversation, so he reopened his character's options screen.
Agility: 1.
Strength: 8.
Constitution: 8.
Vigor: 1.
Spirit: 1.
Intellect: 1.
HP: 80.
Energy: 10.
Mana: 10.
Just like it said in the guide. His first skills would only appear once he'd reach level 10, so he didn't really need energy for anything save running so far. Strength and constitution are much more important now, so I'll just walk for the time being, he grunted and checked the inventory bag. Mm-hmm. The rusted lump of iron inside (the so-called Apprentice's Sword) with 3-7 damage could only be called a sword in the most general sense of the word, whereas Apprentice's Round Shield was more like a lid from a barrel with pickled herrings. But then, his clothes (a shirt, trousers, boots and belt) didn't look any better. All that junk combined gave a +35 bonus to armor and allowed to ignore five percent of incoming physical damage. Max rose and tried to swing the sword a few times. The result left much to be desired. No matter—weapon skills would come once he'd invest some talent points. The time on the clock was 9:30 AM—he had the whole day ahead, and he needed to make it as productive as possible.
"She won't come," he said to his dour neighbor. "Why don't we group up and do some quests instead?"
"How did you…" The other guy looked at him with suspicion.
"It's all over your face," said Max. "You'll thank her later. Nothing worse than being with a woman that's staying with you for reasons other than love."
"Like you know anything…" The guy crossed his arms and proceeded to stare at the ground.
"Trust me, I had the same happen to me six months ago. But things are different in real life. Here you have every chance to keep on sitting until new players start to arrive in thousands. Didn't you just tell me that the early arrivals are the really desperate ones…"
"But she said she'd come," the guy's shoulders slumped. "I've waited a whole day already."
"Maybe she's still mustering up her resolve," Max decided to sugarcoat it. "Could be a whole lot of reasons. Anyway, there's no point waiting any further. Once we earn some money, you can call her and ask her why she didn't come."
The guy shook his head and also rose.
"You're probably right," he admitted with a sigh, and offered Max a handshake. "I'm Sergei—I mean, Luffy. It's probably best you call me that. Go ahead and throw me an invite."
"Maximilian, or, rather, Max," the newfangled warrior chortled. "I've already read your nickname, although it's probably best to get introduced the old-fashioned way."
"I agree," the young man nodded. "I'm from Kiev, by the way."
"We're almost neighbors," Max smiled. "I'm from Moscow. But Moscow and Kiev don't exist for us anymore," he sighed. "There are just two pointy-eared characters from Sunlit Forest. By the way, isn't that a weird name for a dark elf location? I would think they'd make it a bit more sinister. Is it that way?" He pointed toward the NPCs standing watch.
"That's right," Luffy nodded. "Let's go see Mentor Wasisname. Let him get his mentoring on…"
"There's something else I'd like to know," asked Max as they set off towards the tree. "I more or less get where these are coming from," he nodded toward the dancers. "They are just overjoyed to be immortal or free from real world problems. But there should be regular players here as well. Those who just logged in to play and were taken unawares by the whole thing…"
"The game is more than four years old now, and there aren't that many newcomers," Luffy eyed the piece of hardtack he'd just fished out of his bag, shook his head and put it back. "A whole crowd gathered here yesterday—three hundred at least. Everyone was yelling…" He pointed toward the guards. "These guys were placed there as a result. A fat load of good it's gonna do them…"
"So where did they all go?"
"Some headed for Ellorian, to the game administration building or whatever it's called officially. Others scattered all over the place—probably drinking their grief away in one of the neighboring villages. There are lots of locations around here—all of them for elf noobs, about forty miles across. Thirty settlements alone, and each has an inn with a bar.
"Where'd you get the money for the drinks?"
"The two of us may be paupers," Luffy smiled back, "but serious players wasted no time in transferring real money. Also, the regular sour stuff won't cost more than thirty copper, so we can drink to our acquaintance as soon as we make that much."
"We're here to see Mentor Almaren," said Max to the guards to set their minds at ease once he and Luffy reached the tree.
"Level six," one of the guards pointed upward with his thumb, his eyes full of irony as he gave them a sideways glance. "Watch your step, and don't even think of scratching anything on the walls."
"Or else?" inquired Luffy.
"Marlorien will simply throw the idiot out," the elf frowned, "and falling from one of the top levels is a sure way to the cemetery, unless the idiot in question had managed to grow wings. I don't see any on you."
"I wasn't going to scratch anything, anyway," the newfangled mage reassured the guard, and they entered the enormous hollow that served as the entrance.
"Why the hell did you provoke him?" asked Max as they ascended the spiral staircase, although calling it a staircase would be somewhat misleading, since it had no stairs, looking more like a wooden path going up the trunk, exiting at some point and coiling around the tree like a snake.
"Like I should let an NPC order me around."
"Now look here," Max stopped and put his hand on his companion's shoulder. "Did you forget where we are? Or do you have a logout button somewhere? You say he's an NPC, but he's just a fellow dark elf to you and me, and this tree," he gently ran his hand across the warm bark, "might become your home someday. Don't you ever forget it, please."
"I get it, and I'm sorry," the mage sighed heavily. "Now I'll have to get used to lots of things."
"What did he call the tree, by the way?"
"Marlorien. If I'm not mistaken, lorien stands for 'flowering' in Tolkien's works, and mar is probably 'building.' The devs tried to adapt the game to the elvish lore as much as they could—let's be grateful we aren't being forced to actually speak their language…"
"So we won't be able to chop down a single tree now, will we?"
"Nah, it ain't that bad. Only this kind of tree is sentient—the rest are supposed to be the regular sort, I think. But if you start chopping things down left and right, some pointy-eared forest ranger is bound to take you to task for it. Anyway, enough standing around—let's go see Almaren. Who was the idiot who stuck him all the way up there? Do we have to climb trees for each and every quest now?"
"You should have chosen an orc," Max chortled. "It would be yurts all the way."
"Nope, the orcs have only got shamans, and I'm not too fond of dancing around a bonfire beating a frame drum. The folks from the forum also said it was rather hard to get used to protruding fangs on the lower jaw. We have it easy," Luffy pulled his ear a few times and turned his head to face Max. "Those are normal ears, more or less—not bunny ears or anything, after all… Those fangs, though, you can't exactly have a dentist pull them out. But tell me one thing…"
"What is it?"
"Why the hell did you choose a warrior? It's a world of magic, after all—something we don't have on Earth. Didn't you find it exciting?"
"Well, warriors have access to some spells, too," Max smiled. "Let me see how sick you get of all that magic in about a thousand years."
"In about a thousand years I'll become the Lord of Darkness, and the princesses of the lands I will
have conquered will serve me dinner clad in nothing whatsoever."
"Don't tell anyone about your plans, o Luffy the Terrible," Max made a frightened face. "You never know—it might make surviving long enough to become a lord somewhat challenging. By the way, does your nickname mean anything?"
"Straw Hat Luffy is the protagonist of an incredibly popular Japanese manga—a type of comic book. I lived in Japan with my parents as a kid, and got hooked on all that stuff," he explained. "Luffy ate a Devil Fruit and became a rubber man as a result—his body could stretch for many yards."
"Don't tell anyone—one gets bizarre associations." Max coughed. "Aren't you old enough to switch to hentai, anyway?"
"What kind of associations…" the mage started to speak, but checked himself. "Bah," he made a dismissive gesture, "why didn't you follow that chick with big eyes yourself?"
"For lack of time and desire. But in a thousand years I'll ask you for a few princesses—dressed ones, preferably. Dressing a woman can get rather expensive, you know."
"We'll see," Luffy grunted as they stopped before a wide entrance leading inside the tree. "Have we really reached it at last?"
Almaren—a tall gray-haired man with sharp features—turned out to be a level 250 druid. He was sitting at the far end of a spacious room, reclining against the back of an armchair that grew right out of the floor, and thinking about something with a great deal of concentration and his eyes half-closed. The mentor was wearing leather armor with a silvery pattern upon it. His helmet, which looked like a moose head with large antlers, lay on a short round table in front of him, next to a staff emitting a pale green light.
"Mentor Almaren?" Max inquired politely as they entered.
"Two more?" The druid snapped out of his reverie, looked somberly in their direction, and gestured them to approach. "Come closer."
When they approached, gingerly treading the soft floor and looking at the furniture that grew out of the walls and the floor, the mentor sized them up, looking skeptical, scratched his cleanly-shaved chin and said:
"A warrior and a mage, eh? Well, now…"
You've accessed the quest: Alisha Leafwhisper.
Quest type: normal.
Find Alisha Leafwhisper in Armilan and tell her Mentor Almaren sent you.
Reward: experience.
You've accessed the quest: Artainor Bearson.
Quest type: normal.
Find Artainor Bearson in Armilan and tell him Mentor Almaren sent you.
Reward: experience.
You've accessed the quest: Sunny Spring.
Quest type: normal.
Fill a rock crystal vial with water from the Sunny Spring in the Golden Copse of Sunlit Forest and bring it back to Mentor Almaren.
Reward: experience, Scroll of Full Healing.
Attention! Scrolls of Full Healing can only be used in starting locations. They will disappear from your inventory if you leave.
You've accessed the quest: Return to the Mentor.
Quest type: normal.
Complete all the quests given to you by Alisha Leafwhisper and Artainor Bearson, and report back to Mentor Almaren once you're done.
Reward: experience, ordinary weapon of your choosing.
"Alisha will give you the crystal vial. You may go," Almaren pointed to the door and resumed his contemplation.
"Is that it?" asked Luffy, taken aback by the brisk treatment.
"What else did you want?" Almaren sighed heavily and looked at him the way one might look at an annoying insect.
"Some kind of greeting, at least? Something along the lines of 'Welcome to Sunlit Forest, venerable Max and Luffy! I'm so glad you're finally here. Times are tough, and the dark elf race really needs all the help it can get from heroes such as yourselves…'" This was uttered in stentorian tones with a grand gesture of the hands.
The room was perfectly silent for about ten seconds. The druid's stare, directed at Luffy, went from irritated to surprised, and then… This must be how sane people look at incurable asylum patients, thought Max. With just a tiny bit of pity and disgust.
"Harrumph," Almaren cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his hand. "Heroes, is it now. I'll disappoint you a bit," he shook his head. "There's only one venerable person in this room. Guess who it might be? Or, rather, answer my question," his eyes fell on Max. "Is everyone such a dolt back where you came from?"
"Dolts, are we now?" the young guy hissed through clenched teeth, looking the mentor straight in the eye. "Watch it, you moosehead."
"Or else what?" Almaren harrumphed again, apparently having let the "moosehead" slide. "Tone down your arrogance, young man—it isn't backed up by anything, and the same goes for the crowd that tested my patience to the limits for six hours yesterday. Prove you're worth something, and then we'll talk."
"We lose all our skills when we come to this world," Max proceeded in a calmer fashion. "So we have to start everything from scratch."
"Your companion mentioned tough times," the druid chuckled. "I'm not sure what he meant, but I have a hunch that heroes such as yourselves can totally handle the task of awakening the sleeping soil."
You've accessed the quest: Sleeping Soil.
Quest type: unique.
Receive special tools from Immalah the Herbalist and till the area where the soil is asleep.
Reward: experience, increased reputation in the Armilan Village, 1 gold, the ability to learn the Herbalist profession.
Attention! All the other quests remain inactive until the present quest is completed.
"Soil in the northern outskirts of Armilan is dormant, and we cannot wake it with our usual methods. Other races use tilling to awaken their soil. If you want to be treated well, this quest provides you with an excellent opportunity. That's it. Now go… I have already wasted too much of my time on you…"
"Are you aware that your tongue is your greatest enemy?" Max sighed, looking sideways at Luffy as they descended.
"Like yours is a friend," the wizard chortled. "Or was it me who called him a moosehead?"
"My tongue is friendly enough. You can pick up a profession at level 10, while we have one available to us at level 1. One gold coin is around a hundred bucks each."
"I'm concerned about something else entirely—didn't you find anything odd?"
"You mean the greeting?" Max looked at Luffy questioningly. "Duh, he sees the likes of us all the time. What's the point of running off at the mouth for each one?"
"Are you trying to tell me you've never played these games before?"
"Nope. I had no time for it, although now it dawns on me that I probably should have."
"You see, in games like this the whole world revolves around the players, so the druid was supposed to have greeted us properly, but he… And what he said about where we came from—he should have uttered none of that, don't you get it? None of that!"
"Could the NPCs have come to life after the latest patch?" Max suggested.
"It sure looks that way, and what it means is that we're the ones who have to watch our tongues now. I'm surprised he didn't squash us like bugs."
"So what," the warrior made a dismissive gesture. "We're immortal, aren't we? So what if he did squash us? I'd level up to 200 and then come back here and squash him—or, at least, take his antlers as a trophy."
"You really believe anyone can level up to 200 with this twenty percent penalty for dying?"
"I have no doubt."
"Heh," Luffy sighed theatrically. "I wish I had your certainty."
It didn't take them long to find Immalah the Herbalist. It was a short and thin elf, who, oddly enough, seemed overjoyed at their arrival. He rummaged in a hollow that must have served as a tool shed, gave the companions two wooden shovels, led them to the site, outlined their tasks and went away, humming some melodious tune.
"Two hundred bucks, is it," exhaled Luffy, resting his hands on the handle of the spade that he had driven into the ground and eyeing the dark patch with the rough area of t
hree hundred square feet. "Not half bad. Chinese workers probably get around that much for tilling two and a half acres by hand."
"Chinese workers get tired," muttered a slightly embarrassed Max, "whereas we happen to be in a magical world."
"But there are usually ten of them digging."
"Which means each of them gets five times less. Besides, labor brings out the best in a person."
"Whereas idleness makes one happy!"
"Enough yapping already. If you call yourself a hero, put your money where your mouth is," Max chuckled and set forth toward the patch pointed out to him by the herbalist, the shovel over his shoulder.