The Reapers (The Neuro 3) by Livadny Andrei

Author:Livadny, Andrei [Livadny, Andrei]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Magic Dome Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Our conversation made me realize one very important thing. Not every neurogram-infected NPC could become a Reaper. All those snippets of human identities acted as some kind of virus which could affect primitive mobs and NPCs while presenting the more complex ones with a challenging moral choice.

Still, White had been right in his assumptions. I needed to find Davre and all the other NPC team members who’d been with me during my fight with the Reguar.

As night fell, the party subsided a little, then resumed with a new force.

On the little island next to the freshly-restored barbican, the castle’s guest portal kept flashing non-stop, disgorging more pilgrims.

I found Davre in the central square in the company of some seedy rogue types. Not a good combination at the best of times, especially as he was already quite drunk. Talking to him now was probably not a good idea.

At least so I thought. Apparently, life had other ideas.

Before I could move, our freshly-baked assassin Ylien slipped out of the shadows and joined them by the fire.

I never liked rogues very much. Of course I knew this was only a game class but I just couldn’t help myself. I simply didn’t like thieves, period.

They greeted Ylien as one of their own — and thanks to the clan chat, I could now follow every word of their conversation.

“Alexatis doesn’t give a damn about you,” one of the thieves winced, sipping his wine. “You’re a powerful warrior, Davre. You can swat an Elf like a fly. And do they appreciate it?”

Davre preserved a sullen silence.

“No, they don’t,” another rogue joined in. “They gave the Elves a shrine — and they can’t even let you dig a small cave for yourself! They make you serve peasants!”

“That’s not true!” the orc growled.

“Isn’t it? So you don’t carry stones for them at the building site? To help them build their own houses? While you live in some hovel on the outskirts?”

“Don’t start! I swore my oath to them!”

“Exactly. That was clever of them, wasn’t it? This way you’ll have to lug around stones for them for the rest of your life. You used to slave for the imps — and now you’re slaving for them. I just can’t see the difference!”

Davre looked lost. He didn’t say anything — but I could see it had got him thinking.

“And even if you wanted to leave, you can’t,” the rogue insisted. “They’ll cast a disease or a spell on you to make sure you crawl down some hole and die there all alone.”

Ylien grinned, playing along. “So what should he do?” he asked the rogue.

“Anything’s better than being a servant to peasants! He can always join Dietrich. He has huge respect for great warriors. He can remove his oath no problem.”

“Bullshit,” Ylien snapped before Davre could reply. “I don’t think you’ve ever robbed anyone outside your own village, dude. Pull the other one.”

The thieves exchanged glances. I didn’t interfere. Ylien seemed to have the situation under control.

Highr the Kobold walked over to the group and sat by the fire.

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