The Secret of the Dark Forest ( (The Way of the Shaman: Book #3) by Vasily Mahanenko
Authors: Vasily Mahanenko
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is located nearby. That work for you?"
"All right, I'll see you in a couple of hours. I am already on the square, just dial me as soon as you're here and I'll come right away. I'll have a look around the shops in the meantime."
"Good, catch you later then," Anastaria disconnected, but I was wary of her good mood. She was suddenly very calm and approachable. ... Something wasn't right here. I would have to be very careful during our meeting and keep my tongue in check.
I was about to leave, but then saw that I had just received another letter. Strange – everyone seems to be writing to me these days. I opened the folder and looked at the author. It was Evolett.
'Mahan, we urgently need to meet. In 10 minutes in the Golden Horseshoe tavern, it's on the central square in Anhurs. I've reserved a table. Evolett.'
* * *
"I'm looking for a decent clan for transfer to Kartoss!"
"Those headed for Kartoss – join us! It would be easier in a clan!"
"Selling 20 Black Fox pelts! 10 gold each!"
The last message stuck out of the general flow of messages like a sore thumb: Anhurs had descended into the chaos of people preparing to move to the Nameless City and I cringed as if beset by toothache. How could I forget that aside from the advantages of being a free citizen, there were also the downsides, such as general city chat? Although Farstead also came with various messages from players, they didn't form such an endless din that was now stressing out my ears. Until you fix the general chat settings, filtering out the unwanted channels, you end up hearing and reading everything on offer from players across Anhurs. Obvious trolling and flooding were forbidden, with the Imitators keeping a close eye on this, but even just the shouts searching for groups and seeking sale or exchange of goods combined into an endless clamor. When I was walking to the Bank I didn't take any notice of this, but now the players were really letting rip: Kartoss beckoned for many.
I quickly went to the settings and added a filter, which sorted types of messages into groups, then breathed a sigh of relief and headed to the tavern. On the outside, with its grey walls, dingy doors and dirty windows, the Golden Horseshoe didn’t stand out in any way, but that didn't stop it being the most expensive tavern in the capital, and therefore the whole of Malabar. This was the place where Barliona's elite would head to celebrate the successful completion of a mission or a raid. Phoenix is thought to have started this tradition by holding a great party there after it won its first prize for completing a Dungeon. Only players who specialized in Cooking could be chefs in the Golden Horseshoe and they were paid a handsome salary for their work. Each year this elite tavern held contests for the best chef in Malabar, offering a job to the winner, and the competition for this position could be stiffer than for gaining the 'Best Clan' title. Just the names of the dishes here were quite taxing on the brain as you struggled to imagine something like: 'Grilled flying Kamarton with slices of Devilsaur served under rwondian rosemary sauce', 'Sautéed Crocolisk in Foxrabbit skin'. ... The dishes’ names certainly created an impression.
I opened a squeaky door, noting that at least in this regard the developers didn't have to overdo it, and found myself in a fairytale.
Firstly, I immediately found myself in a tuxedo. The system determined that I had a right to enter the building and dressed me in what suited the status of the establishment. The tux was an ordinary illusion, not affecting the stats of my gear in any way, but it still felt very strange. You had to know how to wear a tuxedo – otherwise it would end up looking like it was stuck on a mannequin. A couple of steps later I realized that it was a skill I completely lacked. Secondly, the inner décor of the establishment presented a stark contrast to its external look. There was gold, crystal, sparkle and,
"All right, I'll see you in a couple of hours. I am already on the square, just dial me as soon as you're here and I'll come right away. I'll have a look around the shops in the meantime."
"Good, catch you later then," Anastaria disconnected, but I was wary of her good mood. She was suddenly very calm and approachable. ... Something wasn't right here. I would have to be very careful during our meeting and keep my tongue in check.
I was about to leave, but then saw that I had just received another letter. Strange – everyone seems to be writing to me these days. I opened the folder and looked at the author. It was Evolett.
'Mahan, we urgently need to meet. In 10 minutes in the Golden Horseshoe tavern, it's on the central square in Anhurs. I've reserved a table. Evolett.'
* * *
"I'm looking for a decent clan for transfer to Kartoss!"
"Those headed for Kartoss – join us! It would be easier in a clan!"
"Selling 20 Black Fox pelts! 10 gold each!"
The last message stuck out of the general flow of messages like a sore thumb: Anhurs had descended into the chaos of people preparing to move to the Nameless City and I cringed as if beset by toothache. How could I forget that aside from the advantages of being a free citizen, there were also the downsides, such as general city chat? Although Farstead also came with various messages from players, they didn't form such an endless din that was now stressing out my ears. Until you fix the general chat settings, filtering out the unwanted channels, you end up hearing and reading everything on offer from players across Anhurs. Obvious trolling and flooding were forbidden, with the Imitators keeping a close eye on this, but even just the shouts searching for groups and seeking sale or exchange of goods combined into an endless clamor. When I was walking to the Bank I didn't take any notice of this, but now the players were really letting rip: Kartoss beckoned for many.
I quickly went to the settings and added a filter, which sorted types of messages into groups, then breathed a sigh of relief and headed to the tavern. On the outside, with its grey walls, dingy doors and dirty windows, the Golden Horseshoe didn’t stand out in any way, but that didn't stop it being the most expensive tavern in the capital, and therefore the whole of Malabar. This was the place where Barliona's elite would head to celebrate the successful completion of a mission or a raid. Phoenix is thought to have started this tradition by holding a great party there after it won its first prize for completing a Dungeon. Only players who specialized in Cooking could be chefs in the Golden Horseshoe and they were paid a handsome salary for their work. Each year this elite tavern held contests for the best chef in Malabar, offering a job to the winner, and the competition for this position could be stiffer than for gaining the 'Best Clan' title. Just the names of the dishes here were quite taxing on the brain as you struggled to imagine something like: 'Grilled flying Kamarton with slices of Devilsaur served under rwondian rosemary sauce', 'Sautéed Crocolisk in Foxrabbit skin'. ... The dishes’ names certainly created an impression.
I opened a squeaky door, noting that at least in this regard the developers didn't have to overdo it, and found myself in a fairytale.
Firstly, I immediately found myself in a tuxedo. The system determined that I had a right to enter the building and dressed me in what suited the status of the establishment. The tux was an ordinary illusion, not affecting the stats of my gear in any way, but it still felt very strange. You had to know how to wear a tuxedo – otherwise it would end up looking like it was stuck on a mannequin. A couple of steps later I realized that it was a skill I completely lacked. Secondly, the inner décor of the establishment presented a stark contrast to its external look. There was gold, crystal, sparkle and,
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