Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) (24 page)

She seemed to be sincerely upset. What a shame I couldn’t check out the authenticity of her claims. I had no access to forums. The info portal didn’t offer any intel. It was possible that the admins purposefully removed all information, editing the manuals and other players’ comments. Never mind. Not that I really needed them. I wasn’t prepared to splurge on some totally unknown and untested items.

“Do you have anything else?” I asked, expecting a negative answer.

In a moment, she’d say “no”. I’d bid my goodbye and be on my way. Neither of us would gain anything from this encounter. She seemed to understand it too. She didn’t look too happy about it.

Silently I rose from the table and headed for the exit. I hated shopping. Sveta would have already haggled the shop owner into submission. What was I saying!—she would have never been attracted to such irrelevant items to begin with.

“Actually,” her voice softened, “there is something I have... but I don’t think it’s worth your while.”

I turned around. That was weird. She sounded upset. I felt out of sorts too. The conversation had left a bad aftertaste. I had this tendency of putting my foot in it before I even knew all the details. I didn’t want to leave it like that.

“Take a look,” she reached into her bag for some item or other and offered it to me.

I peered at it. Snuggled in her hand lay something resembling a bird’s feather: either a charm or a pendant. Okay, why not? It was pretty. It looked like silver. Simple but tasteful. It wasn’t inlaid with precious stones—but the craftsmanship was amazing. You could see the feather’s every barb and quill. The craftsman was a genius. Then again, what was I saying? This was Mirror World. How about its stats, then?

Name: [unavailable]

Effect: [unavailable]

Race restriction: [unavailable]

Level : [unavailable]

I looked up at the girl, uncomprehending.

“Haven’t you ever seen a hidden-stats item before?” she sounded surprised.

“No, not really,” I mumbled, taking the silver feather from her.

She chuckled. “I see. To open them, you need to go to Mellenville and find an artifactor. It’s gonna cost you. But if the item turns out worth your while, you can make good money out of it. Of course it can also be junk. It’s the luck of the draw, if you know what I mean.”

“Why can’t you unlock it yourself?”

“It’s in Mellenville. I’ve still some leveling to do to get admission. Also, artifactors’ services cost an arm and a leg.”

“And where do such thingies come from?” I kept grilling her.

“They don’t. Not anymore. I was on a raid with this group of guys doing some hunting in the Misty Mountains just next to No-Man’s Lands. So we found this nest made of rocks, huge like you can’t imagine. Absolutely packed with bones inside. Well, I decided to check it. Found a few bits of steel and this feather. It was still attached to one of the skeletons. When I found it I thought, that’s it, that’s my lucky ticket.”

“And?”

She shrugged. “As if! Had it been a sword or a piece of armor, that’s different. You can take them to artifactors no problem. You’ll always get your money’s worth. But a dicey charm like this, who would need it? The auctions have already returned it to me a few times. I paid their lodging fees for nothing. So I’m obliged to lug it around like an idiot. It just takes up space.”

“It might go if the price is right,” I suggested.

She raised her head. “What price would be right for you?”

I winced. I hated tricks like that. It felt too much like manipulation.

I shrugged. “This is a strange situation, don’t you think? You’re offering me a pig in a poke and expect me to name my price?”

She looked up at me sullenly. “Not even twenty gold?”

I winced again. Enough. I was fed up with her childish attitude. Time to go. I had more pressing things to do.

“Fifteen!” she offered pleadingly, watching me turn away.

I heaved a sigh. “All right. Give it here.”

She’d talked me into it, hadn’t she?

Chapter Twenty-Three

B
arefoot, I left the marketplace as I’d entered it, feeling I’d wasted both my time and my money. Sveta would have laughed long and hard: I’d been shopping for some shoes and ended up with a useless trinket.

It was almost ten in the morning and I still had clothes to buy. The experience had left a strange taste in my mouth. Weird girl. I’d have to look into these runes and especially into these private-stats items.

I opened the map. The city store was one block away from the square.

It didn’t take me long to get there. Remarkably, the shop’s interior design was identical to that of Rrhorgus Digger’s Store. Only the player manning the counter was a stocky dwarf who went by the name of Doryl. Black beard, small closely set eyes. A bulbous nose. A large wart on one cheek. A typical dweller Under the Mountain any way you looked at him.

He sized me up and down, then chuckled. I could swear he was about to say something about the state of my footwear.

“Aren’t your feet cold?” he guffawed, his toothless mouth grinning.

What did I say?

Ignoring his quips, I dictated him a list,

“I need a full Reflection kit, a Sturdy Bag, a Sturdy Sword Sling, four sapphire runes of Strength and three of Stamina. I’d also like you to show me whatever tools for Experienced Diggers you have. Some Capacity runes and maybe also some jewelry. Just show me whatever you have.”

With my every word the dwarf’s jaw seemed to drop lower. Finally it must have reached some limit. I heard his teeth clatter, followed by a voice shaking with excitement,

“I’m afraid, sir, we don’t carry any tools, Capacity runes or jewelry to suit your level...”

I dismissed his excuses, all the while studying my virtual toes. “It’s all right. I might get something in Mellenville. How about the rest of my list? I’d hate to spend three days hitchhiking to Mellenville for nothing.”

My last words must have become the final straw for him. He darted into the back of his shop. No wonder: he was looking at some nice profit today. A sapphire rune alone cost about eighty gold. On average, a seven-piece kit for an Experienced Digger was two hundred and fifty. It all added up, but it was worth it. Absolutely.

The night before, my heart had been bleeding as I’d transferred two grand to my in-game account. I had to. In order for my plan to work, I had to invest in it first.

The dwarf kept disappearing into his storeroom, dragging out more and more items from my list. The heap of clothes on the counter kept growing.

I started with the Reflection kit. It brought up Strength and Stamina 45 and 35 points respectively. The seven-item kit bonus also made me 30 pt. speedier.

I glanced at a small open box and the neat row of deep blue tablets inside. Gingerly I took one out.

Name: a Sapphire Rune of Stamina

Effect: +15 to Stamina

Restriction: Only Experienced Digger

So it worked out that just one such rune increased my Energy 300 points. That opened up some excellent prospects. I fought with my desire to buy four of them instead of three. But I promptly remembered Rrhorgus’ instructions issued when I’d bought those malachite runes off him and decided to stick to my plan. So I bought three Stamina runes and four of Strength 17 pt. each. Balance was key.

Next he brought out a nicely-made leather knapsack with carved fastenings.

Name: A Sturdy Knapsack

Capacity: 150

Durability: 90

Lastly, a sword sling. Made of a dark brown fabric with leather inserts, it had 90 pt. Durability and twenty-five slots.

The dwarf zoned out temporarily, then hurried to inform me, “All in all, that’ll be nine hundred gold forty-five silver with the discount.”

I heaved a sigh. More expenditure. Still, it had turned out much cheaper than I’d expected it to be before logging in.

I paid, then asked him, “Will it be all right if I change here?”

The dwarf was beaming like the desert sun at noon. “Absolutely! We have a fitting room here. And a mirror too.”

I walked into the large fitting room and stopped, facing a large mirror. “Jesus,” I mumbled. “What a state to get into. No wonder everyone was poking fun at me.”

I smiled sadly, remembering Walter White the way he looked in the last episode of the fifth season of
Breaking Bad
. Quite a semblance, really. The shaggy beard, the tired eyes... I needed a makeover really badly.

It took me only a few minutes to change my clothes. That was it. All done.

The familiar Ennan stared back at me from the mirror, looking quite the same. Only, how can I put it... he was sort of
pimped up
. His leather clothes were of good quality, his boots with thick strong soles hugged his calves nicely. The hat resembled one of those funny Alpine hats with a tapering crown jauntily pinched on top, its medium-width rim turned up at the back and pulled down in front. It made me look like the epitome of a Bavarian climber. All I needed was a long feather tucked into the headband.

Right. What I looked like wasn’t really the point. My stats were. And I had to admit that the said stats were quite pleasing to the eye,

Strength, 116

Stamina, 83

Speed, 34

Kit’s Durability, 150

Energy, 1700/1700

It even made it easier for me to breathe, as if I’d dropped twenty years or so. What a feeling! Now all that was left for me to do was choose some tools, a few Capacity runes and some jewelry.

I stuffed my old clothes into the knapsack. After a moment’s hesitation, I hung the silver feather around my neck. It might be a dark horse but it would make a nice pendant for the time being.

I gave myself another once-over. No. That just didn’t look right. I needed to sort myself out properly before heading for the big city. Really. At the moment I looked like a tramp who’d robbed a well-to-do townsman.

I scrambled out of the fitting room. The dwarf was still smiling. Still, as I approached the counter, his smile faded. His jaw locked. He glared at me from under his bushy eyebrows. What was going on? Just a moment ago he was all cute and cuddly and now he looked like a thunder cloud?

I tensed. “Everything all right, sir?”

He drew his eyes away from my chest and glared at me, sniffing. When he finally spoke, his cold, level voice rang with a threat,

“Black scavengers have no place in my shop.”

His announcement dumbfounded me. What the heck? “I’m afraid there must be some misunderstanding,” I did my best to sound calm and confident. “What makes you think I’m a scavenger and a Black one at that?”

He sniffed his indignation. “Grave robbers have no shame! You’re walking in flashing a relic artifact that can only be taken off a dead body, and you’re asking me what’s wrong!”

So that’s what it was, then. I looked down at the silver feather. So the girl
was
a thief, after all. Still, something didn’t add up.

The dwarf kept glaring at me, his eyes livid with rage. I locked his stare in mine and answered calmly,

“Firstly, you’ve just insulted me. I can actually file an official complaint with the admins now. And once they check the logs, they’ll see that your accusations have been both hasty and unfounded. Secondly, I bought this so-called ‘relic artifact’, as you say, at the market today. It cost me all of fifteen gold. This can also be checked. Thirdly and fourthly... but that’s enough for you, I think, at least until I hear your apology complete with your side of the story.”

He sort of deflated under my stare. His face betrayed confusion. “I, er, all I wanted... you know...” he kept mumbling.

I shrugged. Crossing my arms on my chest, I stared at him. Deep inside, I was shaking with agitation. If the truth were known, it was my brother who’d told me about “the logs”. He'd said this was one of the magic words in Mirror World. Apparently, you could solve any argument by applying to the admins for a copy of your “logs”. It did cost you but this seemed to be the most effective tool in the game’s judicial system. The game’s server registered everything that was said or done, so my determination to contact the admins in order to provide them must have shaken the shop owner’s conviction. He sort of shrank.

The vendor sighed. I could read confusion in his face. “Please accept my apology. I can see now that I was wrong. You don’t look like a scavenger even though you’re in quite a state.”

I grinned and tried to keep my voice level, eager to take the edge off the situation. “I understand. I’ll tell you more: had I been who you thought I was, your stance would have deserved every respect.”

His gaze warmed up to me as I went on, “But could you please be ever so kind as to explain what exactly prompted you to think so ill of me?”

He groaned. “It’s that thing on your chest, sir. I literally turned to stone when I saw it. Private-stats items are extremely rare in Mirror World. That’s what players call relics. Now where would a common Digger, even of your level, lay his hands on something like this?”

I froze. “I see. Shit.”

“Actually, now I understand,” he went on. “Had you indeed been a scavenger, I’d have never seen you wear it. Besides, those rats only keep these things because they want to sell them. And you wore it in broad daylight.”

“The more I speak to you, the more questions I have,” I replied with a sad grin.

He chuckled. “That’s another thing confirming that you’re not what I thought you were. You’ve put the charm on. Now you won’t be able to give it away—neither for money nor as a gift. It’s non-transferable. It has no Durability. In other words, it’s eternal and it’s yours alone. Relics are non-transferable first and foremost. Or rather, you can try and give it to someone else—until its new owner tries to put it on.”

I forced a smile. “You can call me a noob.”

He smiled back. “Or a very rich Experienced Digger.”

So he hadn’t believed the price I’d paid for it. Still, it gave me an idea. The whole situation rang a few bells... it was almost a déjà vu. I had to go back to the market place.

“Mind if I give you some advice?” the dwarf asked. “You’d better hide it away from prying eyes. Till better days, if you know what I mean. I don’t want to offend you but this type of item only looks good on a level 200+ player.”

I hurried to follow his advice, burying the feather in my new knapsack. “Okay,” I kept sponging more free intel off him, “so what am I supposed to do with it now?”

“There’s only one answer to that,” he said. “Make an appointment with Aldor of Mellenville, the wizard. He'll open it for free.”

“For free? Really?” I asked, remembering what Saimie—or whoever she was—had told me.

He grinned. “He'll open it for free, no catch there. He charges for the appointment itself, not for the service.”

“Oh. So much for my lofty illusions.”

“Heh! You know nothing about prices yet! Are you ready?”

“The way you say it already makes me sick.”

“So!” he continued. “Jewelry: prices start at ten grand. Weapons and armor: twenty. And so on and so forth.”

“Oh. So what’s so valuable about them?”

He shrugged. “That I can’t tell you. Simply because I’ve no idea. I remember reading in some forum or other that apparently some of the relics are quest-bound. But this is pure speculation. There are no guides available on them. As I’ve just told you, only top players are in possession of these kinds of items. And as you can well imagine, they’re not in a hurry to divulge any information about them. I’d think they must be extremely pricey even though I haven’t yet seen one at auction in the entire year I’ve been in the game.”

Shit, shit, shit. What had possessed me to put it on? Once a noob, always a noob. I wanted to smash something against the wall—preferably, my own head.

The dwarf must have read my state of mind as he added soothingly, “Don’t get so worked up about it. I don’t think you’ll lose anything by having it opened. This thingie must cost a fortune.”

I sighed. “I wish. It’s about time I learned how to handle unknown items.”

We didn’t even notice as we switched to friendlier tones. We chatted for another quarter of an hour, discussing the game and the world beyond it. He was all right. I needed to strike a few new friendships. I still had at least another month in front of me, digging in this hole. Finally, we agreed to meet the following night over a few beers in one of the city’s numerous taverns. Then we parted—if not as true friends, then at least as good buddies.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“T
his girl, she put up her tent right here, see. Then she brought you in. And once you were gone, she packed up and left, and that was the last we saw of her.”