part0022

Morning? It can’t be! It felt like I’d only had five minutes’ sleep. Yawning, I half-opened a careful eye. No, Julie wasn’t exaggerating. Bright light already streamed in through the tiny workshop window. Morning, and not even early. Long habit made me glance at my watch on the workbench… I hid the useless object away in my backpack. Whether the hands showed midday or midnight, they had no relation to reality at all now. They got worse every day by two to three hours. It looked like days in this new world were around ten or fifteen percent longer than on Earth.

“Whiskers went out in the night and had a fight!” my sister brandished the half-asleep kitten at me. His ear was torn and there were patches of dried blood on his fur.

“Woah! Who did that to you?” I carefully examined my pet.

A bite on his ear, a wound on his chest… Shame the dumb animal couldn’t regale us with his nighttime adventures. I took the medkit out of my pack and disinfected the kitten’s wounds just in case. At the same time, I felt his slowly recovering injured leg. I was careful, but apparently still hurt the kitten. He whined pathetically… and turned transparent! Just like my sister Julie when she went into Stealth. My furry companion was full of surprises! Three days into cat ownership and I’d learned that my cat could disappear! What other secrets was he keeping? On top of that, my too-independent limping furball was now level ten — higher than me or my sister! But what surprised me most of all was the critter’s game class: Hexxer! He must have been saying some most unkind things in Cattish to get a game class like that.

Voices drifted in from outside; Pan’s Landing had already woken up, had breakfast and made a start on the chores. From what I could hear, the villagers were in good spirits; they were all discussing the incredible dish the cook had made from the river eel. I got dressed, splashed myself in the washstand outside the public house. Julie and I went into the dining hall.

With unabashed pride, Ashot placed before us two cups of jelly made from local berries and a single big plate for the both of us. On the plate were chunks of fish fried to crispy perfection, covered in a sticky dark-purple sauce. It smelled delicious. I tried it…

Awesome! Not only did it taste great, it was very useful for my character. Julie had words of praise too. The kitten sat beneath the table and insistently kneaded my trouser leg with his paws, whining for a piece. I didn’t refuse — it might get him a permanent buff to Health too. He’d have an easier time fighting… I wondered — what could he have been scrapping with on an island surrounded by water? A huge moth? A saber-toothed grasshopper?

Our Asian master of cuisine came to our table to hear our comments on his dish and I expressed my admiration. I’d never tasted anything like it! At the same time, I couldn’t help but ask the question I’d wanted to ask since I first arrived in Pan’s Landing.

“Why is your game class Baker, Ashot? Bakers just bake bread, right? You cook meat, fish and everything else, and you do a great job. Anyway, how do you get flour for bread here?”

Flattered by the praise, the man smiled proudly.

“It seems, Sergeant, that you are the only one in Pan’s Landing who hasn’t yet heard the story of Ashot, who fell off a ladder with a bag of flour. I had the best private bakery in Maykop. Everyone knew Ashot’s flatbread. People used to drive from far and wide to taste it. But one day, when I was unloading the car, I was carrying a heavy bag of flour upstairs and… I missed a step, lost my balance and fell over the banister. I flew headfirst from the second floor, but then the world froze with my head half an inch from the floor. I was an instant from breaking my neck. An angel… I think that’s what it was… offered me a choice: bedridden paralysis for life followed by an ignoble death, or a new life in a new world. I woke up in the night train in my cook’s apron, with my sack of flour. Like everyone, the New Pharaohs caught me. But unlike the other slaves, I wasn’t told to break stone or build reinforcements, but to cook. No doubt my chef’s outfit and sack of flour had something to do with it. I baked bread for the overseers from the flour I’d brought, so I ended up with the Baker class. Although I made other things too. This eel for example — I learned that there. I was told the recipe. Then I happened to overhear that they wanted to sell me to the owner of a copper mine, since his prisoners were dying too fast and he didn’t have enough working hands to deliver metal for the pharaoh. I ran away that same night. I wandered the mountains a while, hungry and freezing, until Pan happened to find me in the woods and brought me here.”

The Baker’s story was interrupted by a few distant strikes of mallet on gong, the lookout’s signal. He must have seen something unusual or dangerous and decided to warn the village. Everyone having breakfast in the big hall leaped into action. Many of them draw weapons. I took out my axe and rushed to the gates with the others.

The reason for the alarm call was a couple of veichs approaching the drawbridge. The large and brown-furred male Hunter at level 52 was new to me. His name was Ugmai Orshi-Ur. But I recognized the little gray female: Shelly, my acquaintance of yesterday. For some reason she was all wet as if she’d had to swim across the river.

“We brrring peace!” Shelly translated her packmate’s growls, adding on her own: “My uncle wishes to see yourrr tame crrreepy crrrocodile and asks to speak with Serrrgeant.”

All the villagers turned to me, pressing me forward almost forcibly. I was lost. What should I say? Fortunately, at that moment, a sleepy Max Dubovitsky emerged from his house, in a hurry and still fastening up his hunting gear as he went.

“Greetings, neighbors! You don’t come to see us often. Come in, dear guests!”

I saw that Shelly felt unsure — her ears were laid back and she kept glancing at her huge and strong packmate. I guessed it wasn’t just because she was dripping water and leaving a wet trail. It seemed to me Shelly had done something wrong and been punished again. The whole crowd of us went to see Tick-Tock and Katy.

Ugmai examined the two sunbathing creeping crocodiles from a safe distance, refusing to go closer even when I assured the veich that the monsters were tame and safe. I approached Katy myself to confirm it and patted her happy, sated head — it looked like the creeping crocodile had spent all night eating in the lake and was now satisfied and relaxed. Besides, Tick-Tock was closely pressed against her as if to hint that the couple hadn’t wasted any time last night and that I’d be dealing with some little creeping crocodiles soon.

The huge and furry Hunter growled something and Shelly translated:

“My uncle wishes to purrrchase the rrrecipe for taming such beasts.”

“You were there when we tamed this one and saw it all with your own eyes!” I said in surprise. The furry girl cast down her eyes and ears, glanced at her uncle like a dog caught destroying something valuable. The veichs must have tried to repeat my feat after the girl told them the story, but without success.

No problem. I didn’t mind telling them what they had to do step-by-step. Just as I was about to open my mouth, Varya’s father stepped forward.

“Thirty baskets of ore!” he said, declaring the price of the information. The furry Hunter nodded in agreement.

I hid nothing. I told them about the Taming skill, that the most effective feed for creeping crocodiles was live loaches and that the taming process wouldn’t start without them. Showed them how to catch loaches with a gauze net. Showed them my bark bucket and plastic bag for keeping them alive in a little water. Told them how to build and reinforce a long and narrow cage to trap a creeping crocodile so it can’t escape. Warned them about the danger of the river monster’s heavy tail strikes that could destroy a trap. At that moment of the story, Ugmai suddenly frowned, growled something and slapped his niece around the back of the head. Shelly’s mood soured completely and tears even welled up in the corner of her eyes. Nonetheless, she translated her relative’s growl:

“We underrrstand. It turrrns out veichs cannot trrrain such creatures. The skills requirrred are unusual, and we do not have loaches in the mountain rrriver. We will have to eat the crrreature that we imprrrisoned with such difficulty.”

The male veich turned to leave the village, showing with all his demeanor that the conversation was over and these humans were no longer of interest to him. I called to Ugmai’s retreating back.

“Wait! If the creeping crocodile is already in a trap, I can tame it. Only I’ll need time to prepare, to catch loaches. Later we’ll have to figure out how to give you the tame monster. It’ll count as my pet!”

The huge Ugmai froze, listened carefully to Shelly’s translation, spoke:

“Giving crrreature to other master is easy. But how much your serrrvices cost, Serrrgeant?”

“Another thirty baskets of iron ore,” Max Dubovitsky piped up without hesitation. The werewolf nodded.

He growled something else and quickly left Pan’s Landing. The female Shelly stayed, her ears low and nose twitching, looking lost as an abandoned puppy. It took a moment, but she translated her uncle’s final words:

“Uncle Ugmai say that we will ‘meet at the trrrap in the lake’ and that ‘this walking catastrrrophe’ will show the way. He also add that if trrraining not work, then I can forrrget path back to village of Orrrshi-Urrr forrrever.”

Cruel… I’d have to try hard to help out my furry acquaintance. Max was eager. According to him, it was very hard to trade with the werewolves — they needed nothing that humans could give them. But the veich village of Orshi-Ur was next to veins of metal, and the werewolves smelted iron in large quantities. The humans from Pan’s Landing, however, had to go on a long and dangerous hike to the icy mountains for iron. Every trip took a whole day, and each man could only bring back what he could carry in a box on his back.

I didn’t take my sister Julie with me, though she did ask. Shelly told me that her packmates were unwilling to let outsiders into their territory. The wolves might simply stop an uninvited guest, and the little girl would have to return home alone through a forest full of danger. I took just the kitten, and that only because the little sneak crept into my backpack, apparently following the scent of fish. This was only discovered halfway there, and it was too late to take the furball back home. Now Whiskers sat on my shoulder, his claws stuck into the fabric of my jacket, looking around and sniffing the great outdoors with interest.

“Why ‘walking catastrophe’? You left us yesterday in a good mood, with bags full of fish. What happened yesterday?”

By now Shelly had already dried out and recovered a little from the insults leveled at her. Breakfast at Ashot’s had also put some spirit back into the furry girl, along with some extra hitpoints.

“Because that is way it is. All my life I am just big loser. Yesterrrday I was late, not make it home to Uncle Ugmai house beforrre darrrkness. So I rrrun to nearrrest veich house on outskirts of Orrrshi-Urrr village. Who could know that there already nine villagers there before me? Alpha appear, phase through hut wall. Slaughterrrhouse. Six veichs die beforrre others deal with monsterrr.”

Interesting. I asked her to tell me more. It turns out the werewolves placed their houses far enough away from each other that each counted as a separate settlement for the night beasts’ attack; each got their own little pack of Feelers to deal with. Strong, thick walls and a ring of spiky bushes around the house was more than enough to prevent the Feelers getting in. Over time, the veichs practically stopped paying attention to the night beasts, started thinking of them as a natural phenomena like rain or snow — just sounds. But to the alpha, all those boundaries meant nothing — the glowing red cloud seeped through the house walls and caused a bloodbath. Shelly herself survived, although she wasn’t happy for it — she got it in the neck! In the morning the girl’s fur was splashed with mud and she was told she couldn’t wash. A particularly shameful punishment for the veichs.

Only the tale of the creeping crocodile tamed by humans kept the girl from banishment. But then the veichs’ attempt to repeat my feat in the morning led to fresh losses; the level 48 crocodile they’d found destroyed their trap and devoured two Hunters. With great difficulty, they managed to catch the river monster again and put it in a bigger and stronger cage, but they couldn’t get the taming process to start. That was why one of their strongest and most respected hunters, Ugmai, went off to learn the trick from the humans. He took Shelly as a translator. He let his niece wash herself just outside Pan’s Landing, so as not to shame their people before the humans.

“How did your people get into this world, Shelly? We humans are all from Earth. We all chose to come here when faced with certain death. What was your world like?”

My question seemed simple enough to me, but it confused my companion. She admitted that she couldn’t remember anything before she appeared in the icy pass with a big group of wolves like her. Or rather, she had only the vaguest flashes of memory. She seemed to be able to remember what her parents looked like… every living creature had to have a mom and dad, right? But her parents never came to this world. Shelly also somehow knew that Uncle Ugmai was her relative, and he knew the same about her. How were they so sure? I didn’t get it…

Our conversation stopped as we reached the lake. Huh. It was the same one where I’d fallen into a waterfall a couple of days ago. It turns out the cold lake was home to creeping crocodiles. If I’d known that the day before yesterday, I wouldn’t have come within fifty paces and I would have thought a hundred times before walking carelessly by the cliff next to the water’s edge.

Shelly and I were expected. Five big grumpy werewolves stood next to a big, sturdy cage. A river monster thrashed around within it, paying no attention whatsoever to the chunks of meat and fish lying on the floor. Wow… The veichs had built the second cage like they wanted it to hold an enraged T-Rex. The walls were made of logs a foot and a half thick, knit together with iron bars as thick as a finger. The cage was huge. Too big, even; it didn’t stop the creeping crocodile from turning round. On the river, I had no problem at all approaching Katy from the side and touching her body. How was I supposed to touch this enraged monster and calm him down? If I stretched out my hand to the sharp-toothed monster, it would leave me with a bloody stump.

I walked around the trap, trying to figure out how to get close to the creeping crocodile. Whiskers whined on my shoulder; apparently the dangerous predator scared the kitten. Then, suddenly… the male creeping crocodile fell silent, calmed down. Slowly and carefully, ready at any moment to jump back, I crept closer and touched the spiny tail.

Minus a hundred and twenty Stamina Points, but the predator was calm. I opened by backpack and opened a bag of loaches, threw one. The creeping crocodile smartly caught it in flight and swallowed it down.

The rest was just a matter of time. The creeping crocodile wolfed down everything, including the food thrown by the veichs on the cage floor. Forty minutes later, the taming bar was full and messages ran across my eyes:

Only then did Ugmai and the other werewolves approach me. Shelly’s uncle squeezed into the cage, mistrustfully touched the tamed beast. Then he got braver and even examined the creeping crocodile’s teeth. He turned to me. Shelly translated his growls.

“This is some kind of magic! I am astounded! And I have new idea. We see that humans from the otherrr side of the mountains harrrness giant rrreptile giga-komodos to their carrrts. We have seen such wild beasts in the fields beyond the faraway forest. The veich trackers will now seek them. They will study the arrrea and build trrraps. If all is well, they will catch a few giga-komodos and summon you. You will trrry to tame them. You can choose one of them to keep. If you fail, you will get meat of beast instead. We have deal, Serrrgeant?”

Well… why not? I wouldn’t lose anything, and at the very least I’d get meat. If I returned to Pan’s Landing riding a giga-komodo, that would be a huge boon to the villagers; it was far easier to move cargo on a cart than by hand. I agreed.

“Then wait. You will be called.” My people have alrrready begun to move sixty boxes of irrron to your village. As for the crrreeping crrrocodile…” Shelly suddenly stopped translating her uncle’s words, looked at her relative doubtfully. He nodded clearly and repeated what he said. Tears came to the girl’s eyes. Shelly sniffled. She was quiet a while, then steeled herself and finished translating: