The Infernal creature stared at me trying to second-guess the weird human's motives. For the first time, someone offered her friendship and protection instead of demanding gold or services. I could almost hear the game's gears crunch as it adapted itself to accommodate another piece of their newborn world puzzle that was forced into its mechanics. It must have, because the Hound had accepted my proposal.
Congratulations! The NPC Clan Hell's Fire has joined your Alliance of The Guards of the First Temple as a junior partner.
You can now summon the Clan's warriors to your service and claim your share of their taxes.
"Excellent!" I gave her a wink as the Hound concentrated on her own feelings, surprised. "Now try to add the Alliance tag."
Answering her bewildered stare, I decided to give her a demonstration. "Watch the name," I poked the imaginary halo over my name where with a minimum amount of willpower a player could conjure up some basic information about the person.
Laith
I ticked the menu,
Laith, Level 72.
More clicks:
Laith, Level 72, Death Knight <Children of the Night>, <Guards of the First Temple>.
I unticked the extra information. "Your adversary doesn't need to know your particulars," I nodded to the Hound. "See now?"
The Hound wrinkled the only line on her forehead, all her muscles trembling with the exertion. Once again I could hear celestial gears crunch. Finally, another piece of the world puzzle fell into place.
Hell's Hound. Level 151. <Guards of the First Temple>.
I glanced at the mini map and smiled. The red dots that had marked the hounds as dangerous and aggressive were now glowing blue: the color of regular NPCs like the guards that used to patrol the Vets' castle walls.
Throwing caution to the wind, I approached the battered animal and patted her armored neck level with my chest. The pup must have been hanging on by the skin of her teeth. Only now had I noticed that her life was deep in the orange zone and virtually not regenerating. Was she so hungry? I studied the pack again—this time not as a victim but as a proprietor. Fugitives any way you looked at them. Deadly dangerous, still seething with the heat of the battle and the agony of their loss. Their puppies were their only salvaged possessions. Time to bring the pooches under controclass="underline" this was not the right moment to breed anarchy.
I rummaged through my ever-lengthening ability list for the God's gift. Help of the Fallen One. I selected the pack's leader as target and activated it. In a flash of special effects, the Hound sprung back on all four feet. Tilting her head this way and that, she studied herself, disbelieving. Then she turned her massive head to me, slouching in a grateful bow.
I nodded and shrugged her gratitude off: don't mention it. I'd better double-check my control of the pack, outline a few tasks and try to solve a few pressing problems in the bargain.
"Think you could use the Temple cellars for your quarters?"
The Hound glanced at the altar. A greedy spark flashed in her eyes. Looked like I wasn't the only one profiting from my close relationship with an artifact of this caliber. It had plenty of goodies to go round.
"Very well," I said. "Now listen here. Make a quick check of the cellars. Purge any insentient creatures. Leave the sentient ones for me, I'll sort them out later. Find yourself a good place to make a den, preferably in the furthest reaches. If it needs a bit of work, just let me know. The whole place needs quite a refurbishment so it won't be a problem digging a couple extra rooms or exits."
The Hound stomped and shifted her feet, impatient to dash off in search of fresh food, experience and a new home. I hurried to finish,
"One last thing I want to ask of you. If you find any big lumps of metal like this one," I reached into my bag for a handful of the purple fragments, "bring it to me here, will you? You can leave it... say, over there," I pointed at a far corner, gesturing in the air to show them the size of the anticipated pile of wonders.
The Hound leaned forward, sniffing the fragment, and recoiled. "The true silver! The cursed metal. Very well, my Dark brother. We'll keep our eyes open."
Turning her armored muzzle toward her pack, she barked a short command. The females looked relieved as they laid their puppies on the floor, shepherding them expertly together. Three of the more battered ones stayed on to supervise the nursery while the rest followed their leader who had already dashed off, disappearing into the depths of the Temple.
Quest completion alert: Hell's Temptation II. Quest completed!
I dismissed the rather useless message and wiped the sweat from my brow. Phew. Looked like I'd just settled a potentially stinking situation and even emerged with some decent prospectives. I glanced at the tired hounds sprawled on the cold floor watching the puppies crawl about, their blue tongues hanging out.
Remembering my school years and mom-packed lunches that I used to feed to our local feral dogs, I pulled a dozen sandwiches out of my bag: I had plenty left after leveling my culinary skill. I walked over and crouched next to the immediately tense animals. I removed the cover and took a bite, demonstrating their edibility. Thank God, they started eating, casting grateful glances my way. I patted a puppy behind the ear and returned to my position by the altar.
It was probably a good idea to invest into a couple of Sparks of Dark Flame. Useful ingredient, you should never be without them. Wonder how much I could retail them for? There was a chance that the auction crowd had no idea how to get them and was therefore prepared to pay a King's ransom for them. In that case, they could be a veritable cash cow. I clicked an auction window and basked in anticipation as I typed in the key word. Then I froze. It wasn't that the Sparks weren't available—on the contrary, a good couple dozen had been languishing at the auctions for several months. Even though raid bosses dropped enough of them, no one had yet thought of a way to use them. And as for NPC priests, they weren't interested in goods-for-money exchanges. Still, it was a freebie even though of a different kind. The offers were for fifty gold, you couldn't complain about that. I activated the auto buy with a mental raspberry to all the priests (whom I admittedly hadn't appointed yet). Those would quickly catch up on the item's true value but by then I'd cream off all I could.
Only then I noticed the Inbox flashing. Oops. Two PMs, one from Zena, the other from Dan. In different wording, both said the same thing:
Is this your work? We need to talk.
Zena I could understand. But how could our cloak-and-dagger have figured it out? I understood, of course, that they were obliged to keep tabs on me as an important figure, a patent holder and a universal lockpicker. In other words, the clan's mysterious friend that they were obliged to keep an eye on so that he didn't stray to the wrong side of the barricades.
I paused to think, then typed off a quick note explaining I was awfully busy but ready to speak once I had a free moment. Told them there'd been some interesting developments—asking them not to make their speculations public just yet.
A portal popped open, bringing me back to reality. The Fallen One hummed something, looking pleased with himself. Catching my quizzical glance, he gave me a wink. "You'll be paying the Dragon five percent of mana flow for next year. I'll add the rest. We need to resuscitate that bag of bones double quick. Shame to waste mana, of course, I could use it myself. I need to grow too, and in my case simply killing monsters won't cut it, I'm afraid. That's it, gotta dash. I have some plans for tonight."