Word and Steel (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 9) (Fayroll) by Andrey Vasilyev

Word and Steel (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 9) (Fayroll) by Andrey Vasilyev

Author:Andrey Vasilyev [Vasilyev, Andrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LitHunters Ltd.
Published: 2018-04-24T06:00:00+00:00


You learned a new passive ability: Find the Liar, Level 1.

Your chances of recognizing when you are being lied to are increased by 5%.

Note! This ability only applies to NPCs.

That was a surprise—the goodies were pouring in from all directions. Although I was pretty sure there’d been a message about how the baron was prone to spur-of-the-moment generosity.

“Well, happy?” Semadi asked as he dipped into his pocket for some nuts.

“Thanks, that’s great.”

“It’s useful, and that’s what’s most important.” The baron crunched on one of his treats. “Keep an eye out. Times are changing, and people leave honesty behind when that happens.”

I wonder, how will I know when an NPC is lying? Will there be a message?

“Anyway, all’s well that’s well,” he said, not quite getting the saying right. From his tone, I could tell that he considered the day’s work done, though I had a different opinion.

“Baron, what about my beaver?” I asked, giving him a shove in the shoulder. “You promised!”

“Let’s take care of that later,” Semadi practically drawled. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”

I frowned. “Yeah, later, though every day in those swamps is like a nail in the foot for him. He’s been down there all furry, toothy, and hungry for a thousand and one years, like a mangy, homeless dog. The poor guy!”

My voice shook, though I couldn’t coax a tear loose.

“Ah, whatever,” Semadi replied, standing up. “I’m not going to get rid of you until I do it. Where’s your beaver?”

I pulled a portal scroll out with a sheepish question.

“Should we bring the liches? Just in case?”

“Just in which case? No, no point bothering them—open your window.”

I picked the nearest swamp, which wasn’t far from where we were. Even though it was a shame to waste the scroll, I knew Semadi wouldn’t be up for a walk.

To be honest, bogs don’t look that inviting in the daylight, and at night they’re downright horrifying. A fog hung low, shadows played on it, lights flashed from tree to crooked tree, gurgling sounds filled the air… It’s scary.

“Shursh, come here,” I muttered softly, feeling silly. When I was little, we said something similar at summer camp to summon Pushkin’s spirit. I hope the beaver’s better than Pushkin[2] at showing up.

“I’m heresh.” A familiar head, whiskers popping out in all directions, broke out of the water. “I didn’tsh thinksh you were comingsh!”

“A man’s word is his bond,” I replied. “Baron, this is the swamp miracle I was telling you about.”

Shursh fixed his button eyes on Baron Semadi and, without breaking eye contact, clambered out onto the bank and spat out a live fish.

“Breakfast?” the baron asked him amiably. “Are we bothering you?”

“Dinnersh,” the beaver replied, pawing at the ground. “Not importantsh.”

“What do you think?” I asked Semadi, who had lowered his head to look sideways at the poor poet.

The baron adjusted his top hat. “Yes, he certainly has a curse. It isn’t hard, but I can’t release him. I don’t have the strength or the rank for that.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being honest or trying to pull another one over on me, but it hurt to watch Shursh.



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