The Kartoss Gambit (The Way of the Shaman: Book #2) by Vasily Mahanenko
Authors: Vasily Mahanenko
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full support — probably because he remembered all the nice prizes that were given to the winner of the last tournament.
Damn, why am I stuffing my thoughts with rubbish again? I have to go and hand in the goblin, drop by the Bank and visit the profession trainers. I also need to buy a return teleportation scroll — that timer didn't go anywhere. Speaking of the timer: '43 hours 25 minutes.' That's fine. I have enough time.
"Halt in the name of the Emperor!" Two mustached guards blocked the entrance to the administration building, pointing their halberds in my direction. At least I remembered that I was green all over and cleaned myself up before the jump. Better not show up in front of other players looking like that. It could lead to a serious misunderstanding.
"Halting," was my simple response. It was dangerous to argue or quarrel with guards. They could easily throw you in jail for twenty-four hours. 'Do you have any reputation with the province? No. This means you're an unreliable social element. You can sit in the cell and do some thinking, until we find out for sure, so to speak.'
"I caught an infiltrator and have come to hand him in. Let your superiors figure out why there is a dark goblin hanging around in Krong."
The guards came closer and warily examined my face. Did I miss some when taking the paint off? I thought such things were fairly simple in Barliona.
"How can you prove that this is an infiltrator or that you are the one that caught him, instead of stealing him from the real brave heroes? Why didn't you ride into the town properly — through the gates on a horse, but got here by teleporting?"
Picky bastards! Just because I have a red band on my head doesn't mean that I commit a crime every five minutes, between killing players and NPCs. Ok, breathing deeply and staying calm. I have to hand in the quest and no hurdle in the form of two jobworth Imitators is going to stop me.
"Because it's an infiltrator! Just look at him! What else could a dark goblin be inside the Malabar Empire? It's not like he's an honest merchant! That I didn't steal him you can see for yourselves, since I'm not carrying the mark. Yes I do have the headband, but there is no mark saying I've committed a crime. As for not riding into the town on a horse — well, I don't have one. To top it off, I live in Beatwick, which is two days travel from here. Teleporting is faster, even if more expensive. Does that answer all you questions? If yes, please let me through — I need to hand over the infiltrator to the person in charge here."
The guards had no further questions and I walked into the administration building unhindered. What's good about Barliona is that you can get to see an official at the level of a town mayor in a couple of seconds. You just come and have a chat. No conditions and no long waits. If two players come at the same time, each ends up with his own copy of the official, without holding up the others. From the level of the Governor things get more complicated. And if getting to see him is not impossible, getting through to Heralds and Advisers is much more difficult. Getting an audience with the Emperor is practically impossible. As Eric said, two hundred thousand gold is the normal price for a ticket to see the Emperor.
"How can I help you?" the Farstead Mayor looked up from his papers, giving me an expectant stare. I threw the goblin on the carpeted floor, flexed my shoulders to get rid of the virtual stiffness and said:
"I caught this munchkin near Beatwick, a village right on the border. An infiltrator, by the looks of it. I decided not to kill him and brought him to you instead. That's it, I think."
"Take him away for questioning," the Mayor told the guards, who appeared when he rang a small bell. "As for you, young man, please wait for the results of the questioning in the adjacent room. What if it's just a merchant and you have disrupted his trade," in such a simple manner the Mayor left me in little
Damn, why am I stuffing my thoughts with rubbish again? I have to go and hand in the goblin, drop by the Bank and visit the profession trainers. I also need to buy a return teleportation scroll — that timer didn't go anywhere. Speaking of the timer: '43 hours 25 minutes.' That's fine. I have enough time.
"Halt in the name of the Emperor!" Two mustached guards blocked the entrance to the administration building, pointing their halberds in my direction. At least I remembered that I was green all over and cleaned myself up before the jump. Better not show up in front of other players looking like that. It could lead to a serious misunderstanding.
"Halting," was my simple response. It was dangerous to argue or quarrel with guards. They could easily throw you in jail for twenty-four hours. 'Do you have any reputation with the province? No. This means you're an unreliable social element. You can sit in the cell and do some thinking, until we find out for sure, so to speak.'
"I caught an infiltrator and have come to hand him in. Let your superiors figure out why there is a dark goblin hanging around in Krong."
The guards came closer and warily examined my face. Did I miss some when taking the paint off? I thought such things were fairly simple in Barliona.
"How can you prove that this is an infiltrator or that you are the one that caught him, instead of stealing him from the real brave heroes? Why didn't you ride into the town properly — through the gates on a horse, but got here by teleporting?"
Picky bastards! Just because I have a red band on my head doesn't mean that I commit a crime every five minutes, between killing players and NPCs. Ok, breathing deeply and staying calm. I have to hand in the quest and no hurdle in the form of two jobworth Imitators is going to stop me.
"Because it's an infiltrator! Just look at him! What else could a dark goblin be inside the Malabar Empire? It's not like he's an honest merchant! That I didn't steal him you can see for yourselves, since I'm not carrying the mark. Yes I do have the headband, but there is no mark saying I've committed a crime. As for not riding into the town on a horse — well, I don't have one. To top it off, I live in Beatwick, which is two days travel from here. Teleporting is faster, even if more expensive. Does that answer all you questions? If yes, please let me through — I need to hand over the infiltrator to the person in charge here."
The guards had no further questions and I walked into the administration building unhindered. What's good about Barliona is that you can get to see an official at the level of a town mayor in a couple of seconds. You just come and have a chat. No conditions and no long waits. If two players come at the same time, each ends up with his own copy of the official, without holding up the others. From the level of the Governor things get more complicated. And if getting to see him is not impossible, getting through to Heralds and Advisers is much more difficult. Getting an audience with the Emperor is practically impossible. As Eric said, two hundred thousand gold is the normal price for a ticket to see the Emperor.
"How can I help you?" the Farstead Mayor looked up from his papers, giving me an expectant stare. I threw the goblin on the carpeted floor, flexed my shoulders to get rid of the virtual stiffness and said:
"I caught this munchkin near Beatwick, a village right on the border. An infiltrator, by the looks of it. I decided not to kill him and brought him to you instead. That's it, I think."
"Take him away for questioning," the Mayor told the guards, who appeared when he rang a small bell. "As for you, young man, please wait for the results of the questioning in the adjacent room. What if it's just a merchant and you have disrupted his trade," in such a simple manner the Mayor left me in little
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