I saved my creation and confirmed his hiring. The troll was indeed custom-made in everything including his markings: he turned out to be an albino. Immediately I sent him to see Harlequin. As I watched his large white back, I got an idea.
"Hey! I'll call you Snowie!"
I didn't give a damn about what the Hound had told me. This wasn't a 'faceless outline'. This guy was just too unique.
The troll looked back, his red eyes focusing on me, then beamed—a broad winsome smile. He waved his paw to me and, waddling for some reason, set off to look for Harlequin.
That seemed to be it. I redistributed the mana flow equally between the two chicks and, too lazy to walk, teleported to the Temple. Everything seemed to be all right there. The puppies were crawling around, the guards stood their watch, the dwarf sniffed indignantly as he hauled armfuls of mithril deep down the corridor. I had to do something about his temper. I really didn't enjoy all that mumbling and looking daggers. What could I think of that dwarves liked? What would soften him? Beer, gold, a pole-axe, a smoking pipe and a beard—this was all I knew about dwarves. Being a zombie, it was unlikely he was able to smoke or drink—on the contrary, it would upset him further. Gold was definitely inferior to mithril; a war he'd have to wait for, and as for a beard... He didn't have one, his old burns were just too bad. Could it be why he was so bitter? It was probably easier for me to walk around the city in the nude than a respected Master from the Kingdom Under the Mountain could show in public without his beard. Wonder if they had wigs for sale here? Having said that... I got an inkling of an idea.
I watched the bald dwarf leave and walked out into the courtyard. There he was, Lena's father. Time to make his acquaintance. He, too, had chosen default character settings: a human being with a small pouch—was it a conscious choice or just mindless clicking through character generation? Then again, he was supposed to be a chief hospital physician so his IQ had to be high by definition.
I stepped closer and offered my hand. "Greetings, Sir. Welcome to the clan," I paused reading his avatar, "Alexander Nikolaevich." Hadn't anyone told this guy he could change his name?
Guessing my predicament, the doctor smiled—or rather, his lips smiled as his eyes were filled with fatigue, endless and hopeless. "Call me Alec. Or Doc, whatever you prefer. I really appreciate everything you've done for us. You have no idea how much Lena means to us. I can safely tell you that by saving her, you've saved two more lives—at least. Thank you."
I didn't know where to look. "I'm not the one you need to thank, Alexander Niko... Alec. It's Cryl who deserves all the praise. He invested his very heart in it, not just his time and money. I hope you'll get the chance to meet Taali soon. She was very upset about your daughter's predicament. She really took it to heart."
Finally, Doc smiled a real smile: still a tired one but very sincere. "Yes, my wife told me about them. I look forward to meeting them all soon."
"Excellent. Now have a good look around and make yourself comfortable. Choose yourself an apartment and decide on its design. I'm afraid I can't allocate you much but I'll tell Lurch to set aside one percent of all resources to restore and redecorate your quarters."
Doc looked interested. "Lena told me that this castle is the safest place in the entire AlterWorld. Is it really so?"
"It's also the most beautiful," the girl butted in. She was sitting nearby amid the flowers trying to teach them to play Jingle Bells.
I paused, thinking. Then I nodded, "For the clan members—yes, without a doubt. No intruder can get inside. We have our own guards and the Hell Hounds, plus the Castle's AI is seriously paranoid. And we're backed up by the First Temple and the Gods' support."
Doc rubbed his hands. "Excellent! What size apartment can we take? How many rooms?"
I had to admit I was slightly taken aback by his pragmatic approach. "Take whatever you need. There's more space here than we can possibly use. But it does need some TLC."
"And if I ask you to allocate us a whole wing?" he nodded at one of the eight buildings that radiated from the Temple. This guy had some appetite.
"Actually, the place is sheer Stalingrad," I answered. "It's nothing but collapsed walls and other debris, stuffed with explosive surprises more than likely. And I really can't afford to renovate anything of that caliber..."
"I could inject some real money in it. From what I hear, the game does have this option. Do you think I could use that money to buy some redecorators?"
I nodded. "Possible. I could hire a hundred through the castle interface if you want. Stone masons, carpenters. No idea how fast they can work but work they do."
"Excellent! Then, with your permission, I'll choose one of the wings and adapt it to my needs, agreed?"
I just shrugged. He didn't want much, did he? Never mind. Time would tell. "It's not as if we're facing overpopulation here. OK, then. Make yourself comfortable."
I shook his strong hand and turned my attention to other things. What was next on my list? The chicks. I wanted to give them a good boost: not the required minimum of 2,000,000 mana but the whole 4,000,000. I just hoped such a waste would positively affect their stats. If I didn't sleep, I'd know it within fifteen hours. Oh, Jeez, I'd completely forgotten why I'd come here in the first place! I'd wanted to try and create a spell scroll!
I slapped my pockets—good, I had all the ingredients with me: the Magic Parchment and the Sparks of Divine Presence.
I looked around, choosing an open space. Over by the North wall looked about right. Having warned everyone in the chat they were about to witness some loud and visually impressive experiments, I hurried to the chosen area, mentally scrolling through the calligraphy manual as I walked.
The skill didn't let me down. Even though I'd had to temporarily redirect all the altar mana flow onto myself, I didn't think the chicks had time to even notice it. All I needed was patience and enough stamina to withstand the cooldown of the High Spell.
By the end of the second minute my legs were giving way, my neck cracking under the weight of my leaden head. Good enough!
Bang! I finally stopped casting and collapsed onto the ground. Who the hell said it was easy?—magic was damn hard work.
When I felt slightly better, I scrambled toward the parchment on my hands and knees and ID'd the still-warm charter glistening with wet ink.
Magic Scroll
Item class: Epic
Contains a High Circle spelclass="underline" Astral Mana Absorption.
Effect: siphons 8,388,608 mana from the chosen target.
Cast time: 115 sec
Protect the person who reads the scroll! Any damage sustained will cause them to lose concentration, breaking the spell.
It worked! Okay, so the magic cooldown would only allow me to make one scroll every twenty-four hours, but that wasn't crucial at the moment. What was crucial though was that I could create a Portal to Inferno scroll right there and then!
Two minutes later I was blowing the imaginary dust off a fresh scroll before packing it into my bag. The day had been good. I'd done a lot of what I should have done. Now I had every right to finally check my own apartment and hopefully catch a few Zs. I was completely tuckered.
I walked upstairs, following Lurch's directions and listening absent-mindedly to his bragging about his exploits in the field of perfect interior design. I swung my door open and felt like someone from the Million Dollar Decorators TV show. There was no need for me to whoopee for the camera, but I wished I could do it. This Lurch was one hell of a guy.