The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) (3 page)

Was this a joke? I reread the message. It didn't look as if it was. No one was poking fun at me. Apparently, local rain had this destructive effect on a player's clothes. No wonder the street was empty!

I stepped it up. I wasn't going to lose my expensive gear to some stupid rain!

As I pushed the caravan office's door, I was darker than the thunderclouds hovering over this abominable excuse for a place. My walk through the town had cost me a few points of my clothes' Durability. I had to look it up on some forum or other. I couldn't remember seeing anything about it anywhere. The admins must have kept a close eye on official resources. Their strategy was quite clear to me: players had to learn from their own experiences. And still I found it quite annoying.

I entered the caravan office and stood there, slightly lost. I hurried to check the bot — but no, it had taken me to the right place. Could the app be out of date? This place was anything but a caravan office. I saw rows of crude tables and wooden chairs and a bar complete with several thugs patrolling the entrance.

Excuse me? As if confirming my doubts, a system message reported that I had the pleasure of entering the Boiling Pot Inn which offered barbecued lamb with onions and assorted veg as tonight's
piece de resistance
.

A few players sat at the tables. The place didn't seem too popular. I studied their faces. They looked drawn and expressionless as if the men were sleeping with their eyes open. They paid no attention to me whatsoever. They must have been studying the info portal to while away the time.

Despite the building's gloomy exterior, the Boiling Pot's rooms looked considerably homelier — cozier, I'd say. An enormous fireplace breathed heat by the far wall. The floor and the walls were lined with wood. I'd expected myself to walk into a dark stone trap — and God was I happy to be wrong!

Mud squelched in my boots as I crossed the room toward the bar. Oh. I'd made a right mess of their floors. I just hoped they wouldn't take offence. Having said that, their cleaning lady needed to earn her skill points too, LOL. She might even make a new level mopping up after me.

"Good morning, Olgerd! How can I help you?"

A pleasant-looking middle-aged woman smiled at me from behind the bar.

"Good morning, er... Talina."

She cast one glance at my drenched clothes and smiled her understanding. "It's some weather outside, isn't it? Wasn't very clever of me to wish you a good morning."

"It's all right," I waved her apology away. "I appreciate your concern. As for the reason of my being here... I have to admit I feel a bit lost. My satnav must be playing up. I was looking for the caravan office but it brought me here instead."

"Don't worry," she answered with another little smile. "There's nothing wrong with your bot. The Guiding Eyes meet here in my inn. There's no point in them renting an office space. They're constantly on the go."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I see now. I was afraid I might need to go out again, you know. Into the great outdoors."

She nodded knowingly. "That's what we can do," she suggested. "Varn — the caravanners' leader — won't be here for another hour. I suggest you install their app. It's not big but it might take some time for you to study. I can see you're soaked. You must be completely frozen. I insist you take a seat by the fireplace. This way you can combine business with pleasure. In the meantime, I'll fetch you a nice hot cup of tea. What would you say to that?"

"Excellent," I smiled back. "You're so kind. This place isn't at all as gloomy as I thought it would be. Thank you!"

"Thank
you
," she replied, than added with a bitter note, "
Kind
is an overstatement, I'm afraid. It's just that my brother Varn is a certified penny-pincher. He knows I'm
kind
as you say — and he uses it."

It was true that I'd been slightly puzzled by her involvement with the caravanners' affairs and the fact she'd suggested I install their app. But now the picture was clear. This was a family business.

I could never understand people who were eager to discuss their family in front of total strangers. Not that she'd said anything negative about her brother, but still. Personally, I was a very reserved person in this respect. I could never air my family's affairs in public. Neither did I enjoy listening about somebody else's.

"Actually," I hurried to change the subject, "seeing as your brother isn't coming for a while, I'd love to have a quick bite to eat. The smells coming from your kitchen are irresistible."

She flashed me another smile, followed by a system message offering me a download of the aforementioned app.

I sat back on a broad bench and stretched my legs, offering my feet up to the fire. Oh. It felt too good. A well-deserved meal and some warmth were definitely welcome.

Let's have a look at their app, then.

It was indeed small but very informative. Just as I supposed, The Guiding Eye offered both transportation of passengers and their protection. It had over twenty routes to choose from, complete with security guards. In my particular case, the guards' levels were all 100+, even though the mobs in the caravan's path were below 90.

Never mind. What did I expect? They needed to make their living too. I, however, with my miserable level zero was more than dependent on their services.

The transfer from Drammen to the Citadel took about forty-five minutes. Cost: fifteen gold. Multiplied by two trips a day, that's thirty. Costly but doable. Not as comfortable as portal travel but I couldn't do anything about it. I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it. It was already a good thing there was a commute available, allowing me to come and work here daily. At least I'd save some money on the rent! I could only hope that living in the Citadel barracks was worth it.

Jesus. How on earth had I managed to walk into all this?

The caravanners had their own discounts too. They offered a choice of travel passes: for ten, twenty and thirty trips each. I could use the twenty-trip one. It cost 260 gold. I thought I might buy one once I finished reading.

Another important thing: I wouldn't have to walk these forty-five minutes' worth of travel. Which in my case was extremely cost-effective. The Guiding Eyes transported their clients in armored wagons which by themselves offered guaranteed protection from local monsters. That's provided the guards failed to defend the passengers — which, according to the caravanners themselves, was impossible.

I also saw some positive reviews of their work left by top players and respectable clan members. All this looked perfectly kosher. No sign of any strings attached.

"You! Are you warmer now?!"

The threatening growl distracted me from my musings. I raised my head. A giant Rhoggh towered not two paces away from me. Name: Varn. Level: 150. He was hung like a Christmas tree with stabbing and slashing weapons. The grimace on his fanged mug was apparently supposed to denote a smile.

This was one tough guy. If all the caravan guards were like him, it wasn't that bad after all. You wouldn't want to mess with Talina's brother.

"Yes, thank you," I managed a smile.

"You're the one who wanted to join a caravan?" he asked, taking a seat opposite. The crude bench creaked its complaint. I got the impression that the inch-thick tabletop was buckling under the weight of his elbows.

"Exactly," I hurriedly assured him. "I'd like to buy a twenty-trip pass. To the Citadel."

Varn bared his teeth in a scowl which seemed to signify his satisfaction with my words. Strangely enough, his toothy grin betrayed no surprise. They must have seen a lot of guys like myself. My mentioning the Citadel didn't seem to throw him, either.

"Oh well," he growled. "If you're happy about everything, I'll forward you the contract."

* * *

Once we'd signed the provisional agreement, he said, "There's one little problem."

I tensed. "What's up?"

"It's this wretched weather, dammit. We can't get to the Citadel until tomorrow night."

"You don't mean it!"

Talk about bad news. I was going to lose another day, almost. And I needed to report to Captain Gard. This was bad. Very.

Seeing my jaw drop, Varn tried to reason with me,

"You need to understand, in weather like this you'd better steer clear of that location. Traveling cross-country in this weather is not a walk in the park. I wouldn't like to be seen there on a night like this. Let alone you, with your zero level and unprotected gear. Cheer up, man. The local wizards say it will clear up by tomorrow night. This place doesn't have weather forecasts. It's all different here."

I fell silent, digesting the news, as he impatiently tapped his curved claws on the tabletop.

"Right!" he finally said. "I'm sending you a friend request. I'll contact you tomorrow to let you know the departure time."

"Okay..." I mumbled, deep in thought, as I mechanically accepted his invitation.

This was a far cry from Mellenville. Mellenville! This was worse than Leuton even. This was exactly what I didn't need: unscheduled transfers that depended on weather conditions. Between my serving in the Citadel and working in Drammen's mines, popping my clogs seemed to be only a question of time.

When Varn began to rise from the table, I finally came round and hurried to ask, "What did you mean by unprotected, er, gear?"

He chuckled. "It must be your first visit to this kind of place."

"Why, is it so obvious?"

"Sure," he nodded. "Anyone in the Glasshouse can tell straight away you come from more neutral climes."

"
Neutral
?"

"Yep. You might have noticed that it's rather damp here. It's like this virtually all year round. Winter is even worse. We have snowstorms and freezing temperatures. I can see you used to work in starting locations."

"I didn't realize it was that obvious," I said. "Now I'm curious. What else can you say about me?"

He grinned. "That's not difficult. I'll bet you got some cool quest and hurried over to the Citadel to complete it. Which doesn't happen very often to zero levels. The Citadel is not a good place for the likes of you. The best you can do is finish your quest and fuck off back home."

He was right, of course. While I'd been sitting here reading up on them I'd noticed there wasn't a single Grinder in the room. All players here were level 100 give or take.

"You don't see many working-class heroes here, do you?" I asked.

"We do and we don't. But loners like yourself don't come here often."

"I see. I'll keep that in mind. You still didn't tell me what's wrong with my gear."

"There's nothing wrong with it," he said. "For a zero level, it's actually quite decent. Now you need to add some elemental protection to it otherwise it won't last long, not in this kind of weather. Water eats through Durability like hell. If you get soaked, you can expect all sorts of surprises. I can see you already noticed that."

"I did. It's not a good thing. The info portal said nothing about it."

"The info portal!" he guffawed. "You know anyone who reads it? Want a tip?"

"Sure."

"Go to the auction and have a look around. Check out the prices. They have everything there. What you need is elemental protection called Anti-Humidity. That's the only kind you need for the time being. Right, I'm off. See you tomorrow."

He waved me a clawed goodbye and headed for the exit.

I followed his massive bulk with my stare. He might be right — I really should do some market research. Seeing as I had time to burn.

Elemental protection, he said? Let's have a look.

The auction's search engine helpfully offered a dozen pages of relevant results. They had all sorts: protection from humidity, sunshine, cold — you name it. I also saw lots of things that might fit my pet. Not that I needed them at the moment. My Prankster and I, we were doomed to remain level-zero for the rest of our in-game lives.

A message from Varn interrupted my studies. I jumped. I'd completely forgotten I'd added him to my friend list.

Olgerd, I've been thinking. This might be interesting for you. There's a local shop called Rainbow Store. They sell all sorts of cool stuff. I'm not sure but I think they have elementals too. The owner's name is Nilius. Tell him I sent you. Here're the shop's coordinates in case you're interested. Take care! Don't get your feet wet!

The message ended with an active link highlighted in blue. Opening it would make my bot create the optimal route.

I thanked Varn and clicked it. Let my bot do its job. Why not? I could use a walk. I had plenty of time till tomorrow night. Information was always welcome. I just hoped I could glean something from the shop owner.

Before leaving, I made the necessary arrangements with Talina to secure a room for the night. I walked out without saying goodbye to anyone. The rain was pouring down now. If it rained in hell, that's exactly what it would have looked like. Not as wet even.