Patch 17 (Realm of Arkon) by G. Akella, Mark Berelekhis Read Free Book Online Page B

had been achieved in three days when I and three other coworkers were powerleveled across several noob locations. On my own, I had only reached level ten in Still Creek. In fact, my last quest was about a horse that had wandered off and had ultimately been killed by wolves. I had to locate the dead horse, remove its harness and deliver it to the local groom. The groom then gave the quest to exterminate the wolves. Compared to what I was seeing now, that horse might as well have been borrowed from a G-rated movie: carcass lying neatly next to a pool of blood, the animal's entire front side virtually untouched, and no smell to speak of. But this... Struggling to hold back nausea, I touched what had remained of the demon.
    A ringing sound signaled the falling of coins in my bag. Whoa—1 gold, 4 silver and 25 copper. Also, two sealed letters, a chained badge, and a cloak. What did we have here... I focused my eyes on the badge and nearly squealed with joy.
     
    Courier's Chest Badge.
    Unusual item.
    Raises the negative attitude of all sentient races in Demon Grounds to unfriendly. Any positive reputation held with representatives of sentient races remains unchanged.
     
    Always warring at one another, dominions resort to using special messengers to carry out postal correspondence. These couriers can be recognized by a special badge worn on their chests, and attacking them unprovoked in Demon Grounds is strictly forbidden.
     
    A typical metallic circle three inches in diameter without any special attributes, a glyph inscribed along the side and somebody's strange face at the center, but for me this piece of metal trumped any epic artifact! It must have been the governing AI giving me a way out of a dead-end situation. After all, everything in the Realm of Arkon was done for the players, or at least for their money. I wasted no time putting the chain on my neck. The badge locked into the amulet slot, which had been empty until now (and would probably have remained empty for the foreseeable future).
     
    Spring Whisperer's Cloak of Haste
    Cloth
    Durability: 163/200
    Unusual item.
    Minimum level to equip: 190.
    Armor: 520.
    +80 to agility.
    +60 to constitution.
    +50 to stamina.
    Weight: 5 lbs.
     
    Not a bad cloak for a melee-specced druid, rogue or ranged dps. In truth, it wasn't anything special, and wouldn't fetch more than a few gold at the auction house. Like in many other games, items in Arkon fell into a range of classes: from plain items to artifacts. There were also sets that comprised several items of the same type, all unusual or above, from two to eight pieces per set. Combining several or more pieces resulted in decent set bonuses to their owner. I put the cloak away in my bag and reached for the larger letter.
     
    You've accessed the quest: Special Delivery.
    Quest type: normal.
    Deliver the letter of Ar-Iraz, the prince of Jarus Province, to Nittal and hand it to Lady Janam the Beautiful, second wife of Astarot, the lord of Ashtar Dominion.
    Reward: 5 gold, experience.
     
    I accepted, naturally.
    I took the letter in my hands warily. It was a scroll of fine leather, inscribed from top to bottom with strange symbols and sealed with red wax, the symbols flashing scarlet periodically. Thankfully, I was never the curious type, and especially not at this level. Besides, reading other people's mail was a clear sign of bad manners.
    The other letter was a bit more plain:
     
    You've accessed the quest: Sales Report.
    Quest type: normal.
    Deliver a sales report from Jarus Province to Nittal and hand it to Venerable Yldiz, head of the traders' guild of Ashtar Dominion.
    Reward: 2 gold, experience.
     
    The human mood is a strange thing indeed. It hadn't been twenty minutes since I wanted to howl at the moon from despair, and now I smiled up at it like an old girlfriend. Who was I twenty minutes ago? A pauper without a penny to my name, without a home or occupation, hated by everybody around save for perhaps those gophers.