Survival Quest (The Way of the Shaman: Book #1) (34 page)

Quest update - 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1': 1 of 4 trials completed.

Corridor number 2. A turn of the room and this time there was only one path to the exit.

There was an ordinary five-meter hole filled with water. A centimeter-wide bridge spanned across it. It was more of a tightrope than a bridge. You felt lucky not to see it sagging under its own weight. This was simple too - a trial of the pliancy of the Spirit. Walking across the tightrope was practically impossible and the Shaman's task was to humble himself and simply swim across the hole. Nothing difficult, but everyone recommended leaving this room for the last. Otherwise the remaining trials would have to be tackled while wet. Well, never mind. I left the room, water running off me, and saw the next message.

Quest update - 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1': 2 of 4 trials completed.

Corridor number 3. Again there was only one way out.

Ten human statues made of stone, clubs in their hands, stood in my way. Test for the strength of Spirit. You had to walk through the statues, taking no notice of their blows - a perfectly 'suitable' trial for free players whose sensory filters have been turned off. Now I'll have to feel all of this on my hide. Damn, when I read up on it, I had an immediate dislike for this trial. It hasn't really been designed with prisoners in mind. I clenched my teeth and managed to walk to the other end of the room. Damn, that hurt a lot. Even Rats didn't bite this hard. My Endurance went up by no less than 10% while the statues tenderized me head to toe. Having hit me, each statue crumpled into dust, which settled on me layer after layer. Wet and dusty, I started to resemble a dummy, but the message that appeared next told me I had not endured this in vain:

Quest update - 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1': 3 of 4 trials completed.

Now all I had to do was show steadfastness of Spirit. Corridor number 4 took me to a room with a mixed pile of rice and peas in the middle. I was glad to see a bucket of water next to the pile, which allowed me to wash the dust off my hands and face. They were right about taking the trial with the water last - at least you'd come out clean. The fourth trial simply involved separating the mixed pile into two within an hour of entering the room, making a pile of peas and a pile of rice. It was a test of your nerves and endurance. I crouched and set to work. In this test I could beat any free player: they never spent a day in a mine, forced to swing the pick, or they'd know what steadfastness of spirit was all about. The dust falling off me stuck to the rice, but I decided to take no notice of this. I had to work and not get distracted by silly details.

It took me forty minutes to complete the last task. R-right... Somehow the process of initiation into a Shaman didn't impress me that much - all the trials were made for noobs (beginner players). As I left the room, I saw the predictable message:

Quest update - 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1': 4 of 4 trials completed.

Quest completed. Seek out the Shaman trainer.

I headed for the exit and saw the red stone mentioned in the first system message. If I pressed it, I'd have to go through the trials again. I was almost out of the cave when I remembered the orc's parting advice:
"trust in your spirit. It will help you make the right choice."
I stopped. Just now I really trusted only my brain and the forum, but in no way my own instincts or feelings. Did I want to do everything as it was written in the player FAQ? In truth - no; as I completed the tasks I felt that something wasn't quite right. I sat down again and began to scan through the forums for any kind of a hint of what I did wrong. Yes, the task was completed, but I had a nagging feeling that I had done it all wrong and if I left the cave now, I'd only see disappointment in the orc's eyes. It took me over an hour to read everything through, but I still could not lay my doubts to rest. The only message that stood out from the rest was from a lady Shaman with a funny nick of Antsinthepantsa: "Shamans! During this trial forget that you have a brain. Thinking is for Mages! We have to feel, this is our strength!"

I sat there, staring into space for a few minutes, but not a single thought appeared in my mind, now slowly boiling over with tension. Shaking my head, I got up, went to the red stone and pushed it down full of inexplicable anger. You can all be sticking your advice where the sun don't shine!

Information for the player! You have used the quest resetting stone. Attention! You have only one attempt left to complete the trials in the quest 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1'.

Quest update - 'The Path of the Shaman. Step 1': 0 of 4 trials completed.

I got ready to head to corridor number 1. Something told me that the trials had to be taken strictly in sequence or it wouldn't work again. Or rather it would work, but not in the way I needed it to.

The room turned around and again I found myself standing between the fawn and the wolf. The forums clearly stated that if you freed the wolf, it would eat the fawn and after leaving the room you'd have failed in the task. The wolf had to be freed in an unusual way: there was a stick lying by the entrance and you could use it to knock the wolf out for a minute, quickly free him and leave the room. It was important to do this before the wolf recovered, otherwise he would kill the unfortunate player straight away. I looked at the fawn one more time. He was sitting in that hole and seemed perfectly fine. He wasn't screaming or fidgeting or making wild frightened eyes. What if he had a nest in there? Maybe that hole was his home and I'd be taking him away from it. With the wolf it was a different story. It's not much of a life with your paw in a trap. You could understand why his teeth were bared: at this moment I was the personification of all his pain. If I approached him, he'd try to tear my throat out. And, most importantly, his properties were inaccessible: I had no way of telling if he'd eat me in one bite or I'd have enough time to dodge. I closed my eyes and listened to myself. What to do? I really didn't want to go to the fawn and was feeling really sorry for the wolf - my whole soul wished to free him. Soul? Could that be the spirit to which I should be listening?

I walked towards the grey wolf. The fawn may have a chance to survive in a fight with the wolf, but the wolf had no chance if he remained in the trap. The choice was clear, but now I had to find a way of getting him out. Baring his teeth and giving out a muffled growl, the wolf lowered his pointy ears to his head, made the fur on his back stand up, crouched on his hind legs and did all he could to show that, once I crossed a certain line, he would attack me. He didn't care that his front leg was trapped - he intended to fight for his life to the bitter end. A real fighter. I couldn't help feeling respect for him - many would have broken by now in his place. I took a closer look and saw the expression of animal rage on the massive muzzle. Wow, so wolves were able to express emotions. I never knew. Or had this been added by the designers to enhance the overall effect?

I left that question for later. Trying not to take any notice of the wolf, who was getting ready to eat me, I sat right at the edge of the safe zone and began to examine the trap. Well, well. What a pervert you had to be to come up with a thing like that. The wolf's paw was clamped in five places at once - each toe separately, and one clamp on the whole paw. At least there weren't any teeth or springs - just gripping jaws with safety catches. All that had to be done to free the wolf was bend open five clamps, fasten them and lift the jaws. However, it became immediately clear that you couldn't open this trap from a distance by using a stick or some other tool. You had to do it with your hands, exposing your neck to the wolf.

I looked into the wolf's eyes, which were pulsing with rage, and couldn't think of anything better to say that the incredibly stupid phrase I read in the book about Mowgli: "We are of one blood, you and I!", then I closed my eyes, sank to my knees and crawled over to free the wolf. I wondered if my skills and stats would be reset if he ate me now and I was sent for a respawn. They shouldn't be, since technically I had already left the mine. I stretched towards the trap and started to unbend the first clamp, feeling the hot breath of the wolf above my head. I was so tense I could hardly breathe, and my hands were shaking, but I didn't stop my efforts to free the trapped beast. Now I knew that 'heart sunk into my boots' was not just a nice turn of phrase, but quite a real physiological trait. At least in my case. A few seconds went by and I was still alive. Did it actually work?

I rejoiced too early in thinking that the trap didn't feature any teeth. It did. When I unclenched the first latch and lifted the first clamp from the wolf's toe, he suddenly howled and then with a muffled growl bit me on the shoulder. There was an instant stab of pain, I screamed something and cowered, expecting the wolf to lunge at me and finish me off. A few moments later I opened my eyes and looked around - the wolf was in no hurry to attack; he growled quietly and periodically waved his tail nervously. I was off the hook. I turned over the clamp and saw why he'd bit me - there was an enormous jagged spike under it. When I lifted the clamp, I pulled it out, causing the wolf incredible pain. So that's how he repaid me? Pain for pain? I shifted my eyes to the shoulder bitten by the wolf. Well I'll be... Blood! For the first time ever since I started playing Barliona, whether as a Hunter or as a Shaman, I saw blood on a player! There were very strict rules about depicting it in the game: it was never shown. At least, they've not shown it before, but now I saw all too well now the red liquid was pouring from my shoulder in a thin stream. After removing the other clamps and freeing the wolf's paw from the trap jaw, I got up and, swaying slightly from sudden light-headedness, went towards the exit. The wolf bit me every time I took the clamps off his toes. Both shoulders, having received two bites each, were losing a good deal of blood - enough to fill a whole bucket. I never thought I could have that much blood in me. Not that this really mattered. The wolf sat himself by the trap and started to lick his paw. He would heal his paw and snack on the fawn, and the fact that I failed the trial wasn't that big a deal. The main thing was that I did what I thought was right. I glanced around the room with the sitting wolf and the fawn's head sticking out and headed towards the 'fascinating' walk along the tightrope.

Things looked exactly the same in the second room - the tightrope and the five-meter hole with water. The forums made no mention of how to walk along this tightrope - people only boasted about how many meters they managed to get across. I couldn't help chuckling - even here people were competing to outdo each other in the length department. The wounds from the wolf's bites were beginning to close and the blood was only appearing in small drops now, so I decided to ignore it. Brushing away all my thoughts and freeing my mind, I headed for the tightrope. I'm a tightrope walker. I'm a butterfly, gracefully fluttering above a candle, without singing its wings. I'm.... I'm a wet and angry Shaman, who's climbing back out and stubbornly continuing to fall off the tightrope again and again. The water made the wounds on my shoulders open up again and the blood began to flow in a sure treacle, coloring the water in the hole red. I climbed out of it once again, probably for the hundredth time now, and decided it was time for a break. Every fiber of my body felt that I was meant to walk that tightrope, but I just couldn't do it. It was too thin and too awkward. Placed as it was right at the water's surface, the tightrope simply refused to be conquered. And the water too, crystal clear at the start of the trial, was now an embodiment of a vampire's dream: the red was so bright that you felt like all the water had turned to blood. I involuntarily glanced at my shoulders, which continued to bleed as before. Strange. My head wasn't spinning any more, but judging by the amount of the red liquid that drained out of me, it was a bit more than a couple of buckets. 'If the wounds close with time, I think I should stop and give them a chance to heal. They get wet and open up in the water and the constant moving about doesn't help either...  It's decided!' I sat by the obstacle, closed my eyes and tried to relax.

I woke up from the back of my head hitting the floor. Wow, I relaxed so much I even fell asleep. I looked at my shoulders. At last! There was a dried crust and no more bleeding. I carefully got up and approached the tightrope once again. Creepy stuff! The blood did not form a crust just on my shoulders, but also in the hole, producing a rough red film on the surface, like in some horror film. I shuddered, but, discarding unwanted thoughts, focused only on the tightrope and stepped forward. First step. Second. Third. Fifth. It was like walking on a watery mattress, springy and reliable. No thinking! I must keep moving. I walked to the opposite end, stepped on the solid surface and looked back. I did it! The crust of blood formed a springy film on the water, which allowed me not to lose my footing and fall. So the wolf bit me for a reason, didn't he? Was all this part of the intended design? Then why didn't I get the message that I had completed even one trial? Baffled, I shrugged and went towards the exit. 'If there is no message, I'll just do what I believe to be right rather than what's written in the instructions. I can't do any worse for it.' With these thoughts I entered the third room, where I was met with ten stone statues.

The first time I simply walked past every statue in turn, with all of them giving my back a hiding with their clubs and staves. Was that worthy of a Shaman? I think not. A Shaman should speak to the Spirits and a Shaman must praise his ancestors. I suddenly understood what the orc was doing when he was examining the Orc Warriors from the Karmadont Chess Set. He was honoring them! For him, as a High Shaman, these were not just figurines, but the embodiment of his ancestors, the Spirits of his people in a way. I looked carefully at the closest statue. She was a girl of nineteen, if not younger. What I first thought to be a club was a carved staff. She wore a simple dress of a shepherdess, a rough cloak and a large bag across her shoulder. On the plinth beneath the statue there was a simple sign: Yalininka Silverwing. But it was this sign that made me bend my knee and bow my head. In the history of the human race there were not many women of whom even orcs spoke with respect. To be exact there was only one: healer Yalininka the Great - it would be hard to find a better word to describe her. She was unsurpassed, having saved tens of thousands of lives. When she saved the Leader of Forest Elves from what was thought to be an incurable poison, he gave her silver wings that allowed her to travel the breadth of Barliona by air. For twenty years this silver lightning flew around the world and where she went sickness disappeared. When Yalininka was finally laid to rest, mourning was declared throughout Barliona. Everyone wept - humans, haughty elves, bloodthirsty orcs; even goblins, who were thought to be an extinct race, came to put flowers on her grave. The Great one was worthy of this. The day of her death was declared by all races to be a weapon-free day, and for two thousand years now no-one has broken this law.