The Kartoss Gambit (The Way of the Shaman: Book #2) (23 page)

"Such a dolt. It's a flippin' socializer! Ditch it."

"Let's go to an instance. Nothing to catch here!"

"Dude, what the heck are you doing? Trying to find out who gets tired first, you or the old bags?" Well, well.

Players rushing around Farstead weren't exactly tolerant. They had to watch a touched-in-the-head Shaman running between old lady NPCs, delivering a letter, getting a new one and going straight back. What a moron, right?

During my fortieth round the old ladies started to repeat themselves. That is they once again started to say that everyone tries to enrich themselves at the expense of the old and frail. Finally, the moment had arrived. I may have lost five hours outside Beatwick, but on another return to Patricia I knew that I would get:

Attractiveness with Patricia: 100.

"I bet you've got quite worn out by now, sonny." said the old lady in a completely different tone, as soon as I gave her Mabel's reply. "You've been running between us almost half the day — probably done twenty miles by now. We've even run out of ideas for what to write, had to send empty letters and all. But you kept delivering them, without even looking inside. Take me to Mabel, we need to have a chat."

Finally. I carefully gripped Patricia and delivered her to Mabel like some precious cargo. Precious indeed! My Totem depended on it.

"Eh, Patricia, you've always had a weak spot for stubborn fools," Mabel stood by the house, watching her sister being transported. "This just isn't fair! Why did he come to you and not me? Maybe I want a ride as well."

"Mabel, if you're envious, there's no need to shout about it," Patricia gestured me where to put her down.

"Dear ladies, I've come here on business," I unburdened myself of the pleased-looking old lady and decided to cut to the chase.

"So fidgety, this one," said Mabel, throwing up her arms. "Always hurrying somewhere. You think we should have tested him a bit longer?"

"No sister dear, we've given him quite a runaround as it is. He didn't even breathe a word of complaint, and you're calling him fidgety. What is it that you came for then?"

"No, no, no!" Mabel interrupted again before I could open my mouth. "What are we, some wandering tramps to be loitering by the threshold? Come on in, we'll have a proper chat inside."

Mabel's house was just the same — still as white and full of light as it was last time.

"Do make us some tea, Mabel. Mahan makes great tea, but it gives you a whopping headache afterwards. We better do it ourselves this time," Patricia, as rules of hospitality dictated, settled into an armchair and started to order her sister about.

"Right you are — how can we chat without a cup of tea first?" the hostess started to fret and headed off to the kitchen.

"So tell us how you managed to vanquish the woodwothe," tea taken care of, the old ladies now gave me their full attention. I considered denying there was any wothe there to speak of, but thought better of it — getting on the bad side of the old ladies wasn't worth the risk. I briefly described my adventures, not forgetting to mention the dragon.

"So it looks like Aarenoksitolikus got dragged into this after all," Mabel said thoughtfully. "I would have never thought that you had a Dragon for a Totem. Can you show him?"

"I can't. I'm not a real Shaman yet — I haven't completed the necessary training, so I can't summon Draco for a couple more days. And how did Swiftbel meet Aarino... Aarenoksitolikus?" — that's some tongue-twister of a name.

"Just call him Dragon. Brother found out where they live from an ancient scroll. And then did what you did. He just went and paid them a visit, the fidget. There he made friends with Aarenoksitolikus and they spent the next twenty years together."

"And where is this scroll now?" I was trying not to breathe in case I put off the old ladies.

"I will make my own way back," Patricia got up and adjusted her dress, leaving my question unanswered. "Thanks for freeing the wothe, Mahan. Our brother did wrong when he put it to guard the treasure. It was languishing and lonely there. As for the scroll, finding the way to it is not easy. Not easy at all. But we've told you what it is already. Whether you heard us or not, that's your business. Go now. And don't visit us again — we'll pretend we don't know you and won't give you any more assignments."

I was about to object, when an invisible force gripped me and shoved me out of the house. The loud bang of the closing door was accompanied by the message:

Update of the 'Searching for your Totem' quest. Swiftbel found an ancient scroll which describes the path into the land of Dragons. Where the scroll is right now is a mystery that you must solve. The merchant's sisters gave you the necessary clues. If you fail to discover them, speak to the Shaman trainer.

I looked angrily at the door that concealed the old ladies. What clues did they just give me exactly? I went over the entire conversation in my head and didn't discover a single lead. But approaching a Shaman Trainer would come as the very last resort, when I admit that I was unable to find the Totem myself. Missing out on a pet that might have rare stats and abilities was out of the question. It's a standard thing in Barliona: if you do something yourself — you'll get a slice of the big pie. And if you ask for help — you'll only get a biscuit. Tasty, but small. But it's the big pie I'm after...

"Where on earth have you been?" If I was now looking at Almis's full-time maid, he definitely had a preference for plump ladies. "Mr. Almis and his guest have been expecting you for a good while now. They've already had their third cup of tea and still there was no sign of you! Disgraceful!"

"Catherine, bring him right through to the sitting room. And no need to grumble — Shamans are not late, they always come at the time they consider appropriate," came the voice of the former trainer and the maid immediately fell silent. Flashing her eyes and making it clear that she will be watching me very closely, she took me to the room where two men were waiting for me. Or, rather, one man and a sentient who was completely wrapped up in a grey cloak. Judging by his height it was either a gnome or a dwarf who had been very ill for a long time.

"Kornik?"

"We have no time for idle chatter," a deeply elderly voice came from under the hood. "Almis, you know what you have to do. Warn the others."

"Yes, teacher. I understand."

"As for you, young apprentice, we have to get going. Great change is coming to Barliona and you have to be ready for it," Kornik took me by the hand and immediately Almis's place vanished. As did all of Farstead. Stunned, I gazed at the great mountains propping up the sky. The golden glow that surrounded Kornik and myself kept out the snow, which was racing around us in a blizzard. Was Kornik really a Harbinger? I opened up the map to see the description of the province where we ended up. Yeah... We were right on the fringe of the Free Lands, not far from the ocean that separated Barliona's continents. The map helpfully showed me fog in all available scales, with just a contour of the border between the land and the ocean. I didn't have this region on my map. Never mind — I would pencil it in in the evening, though I had no idea how this could be of use to me other than levelling up in Cartography. Not only was it the very edge of the world, it was also very hard to get to: Kartoss was lying right between us and the Malabar Empire.

Kornik loudly breathed in the frosty air, which was allowed through by the aura, pulled back his hood and looked at me with the enormous — once brown, but now faded — eyes of an elderly goblin.

"I had no time to wait for you in Anhurs. Terrible events are coming and we must prepare for them. First, you need to get your Totem. Now we will pay the Dragons a visit. There you will swear an oath of allegiance to the High Lord. Then..."

"I'm sorry, teacher. But I must get my totem by myself." When on earth did I get this impudent? "Thank you for your offer of help to speed up the process, but I must find my own way to the High Lord," if I understood correctly, that was the title of the head of Dragons.

For a few moments Kornik drilled me with a penetrating stare.

"All right. If you can provide a good reason why you must find the Dragons on your own without my help, I will agree. But your reason must be indisputable."

"I cannot give you a reason. This... This is something within me — I feel that this is the way I must do things and if I accept your help it would mean a greatly inferior result," I decided not to beat about the bush and tell Kornik the whole truth. As ridiculous as it might be. Even if he's an NPC, he's a clever NPC with access to the information that I need. If I don't get help with sorting out my feelings, one day I'll go mad from the inner contradictions between logic and emotions. This isn't easy for someone who'd been guided by his head his entire life. And a pretty shabby one at that, I thought, remembering how I ended up in prison.

"That is the most cast-iron reason that a Shaman can give," there was now a hint of satisfaction in Kornik's voice. "It looks like our training process will be considerably speeded up if you are able to follow your instincts. So let's not waste any time. Have a seat," leading by example, Kornik sat down right there on the snow. "To begin with, tell me what you know about Shamans."

Is this another Prontho? The orc also asked me this question before sending me off to the Trial. I gave a pretty stupid answer at the time and was reluctant to make a fool of myself again. I opened the manual page on Shamans to refresh my memory about the steps and was about to gladly recount them to Kornik, when another bout of inner contradiction stopped me in my tracks. This isn't what the goblin wants to hear now, he is clearly asking about something else.

"What do I know about Shamans?" I closed my eyes and tried to listen to my feelings, and then said slowly: "Shamans... Shamans speak to Spirits... A Shaman's spirit must be firm, steadfast, gentle and pliant..." my eyes closed and, completely immersed in my inner world, I even stopped noticing the biting wind. These words were said by Prontho and the Great Air Spirit, so I must be able to say them too.

"All this is true, student, but these are someone else's words," Kornik's voice reached me through the web of my thoughts. "Don't use someone else's words, find your own."

Antsinthepantsa's post popped up in my head: "Thinking is for mages, Shamans feel..." And that's when a light bulb lit up inside my head. I knew the answer I had to give Kornik.

"You can't describe what a Shaman is. How can you describe the wind, the rainbow or pain? You can only feel it. Someone who does not accept the Shaman's essence would never understand what a Shaman is, while anyone who had attained this understanding wouldn't be able to find the words to describe this to the others. For me being a Shaman means to be guided by my feelings, for Prontho it's the sense of duty and for you, teacher, it's probably something else. For each of us being a Shaman is finding our own path and following it to the very end. What do I know about Shamans? Nothing and, at the same time, everything. I don't know the Shaman I would turn into after my training, I would have to get to know him all over again, and I still have questions for myself as I am now. But I know one thing — if you're a Shaman, you are unique. I'm speaking of real Shamans here — not just those who managed to get a Totem, but lack the ability to gain the title of a Great Shaman."

Character class update: Class 'Initiate Shaman' has been replaced by 'Elemental Shaman'. Seek your trainer for learning to work with Elemental Spirits.

Attention! You have earned the rank of Elemental Shaman without obtaining your Totem. If you are unable to obtain your Totem in the next two months, your rank would be brought down to Initiate Shaman.

"The Supreme Spirit was right. He does have a chance," muttered Kornik. For some moments there was a silence disturbed only by the howling of the wind.

"I have to teach you many things, my apprentice," continued the goblin a short while later, when I came to myself and opened my eyes. Sitting down in a lotus pose I prepared myself to listen to the Harbinger. I still had about thirty hours until I had to be back in Beatwick, so there was plenty of time left for training.

"We'll start with the summoning of the Spirits. Right now you are an Elemental Shaman who doesn't have a Totem of his own, but who can still summon Elemental Spirits. In total, there are four types of Spirits: fire, water, air and earth. In turn, each type of Spirit comes in four classes: mass and individual damage and the same for healing. Yes, don't be surprised — even fire Spirits have the ability to heal."

Right, I see. I will now have access to sixteen Spirits, but will be able to add only eight summonings to the active zone. So something will have to be sacrificed. This isn't much of a worry at the beginner levels, but starting from level 100 I would have to build my active zone according to the opponent. It is foolish to summon a Fire Spirit on a Salamander or an Air Spirit on an Air Elemental.

"Each type of Spirit," Kornik continued, "accessible to you has its rank. The more often you use a certain type of Spirit, the stronger Spirits of this type become. You have to choose the direction in which to develop, because you can strengthen only one type out of four. The strengthening would apply to all the Spirits you can currently summon or would be able to summon later: from Younger to the Supreme."