100 Questions

11

- That's why your Rusk is an impenetrable dumbass, - Jerome put the mug on the counter and, raising his tone, turned to the audience. - Gentlemen, whoever guesses what my karma is will get a lager at the expense of the house!

The voices sounded different, but were the same in opinion.

- Well done, you guessed it. I can pour the lager. Only he is sour. Arrange?

Nobody took the beer.

- If even one said that I was a Outcast, I would have to open the barrel, - the bartender said with a grin. - And then cover the cost of it.

I looked at Jerome with bulging eyes. But he didn't say a word.

- Well done, silent, - the bartender began to drink the ale that the girl had left. - You probably have a question. But I won't let him ask. Let me put it this way, the Outcasts are very underrated. In vain. Tell me, what is your level of Appreciation?

- Four.

- Wonderful. Tonight, when you and your partner finish "signing" the contract, I'll be waiting for you at the door. After that I will teach a couple of interesting things. Remember?

I nodded.

- Next. Auto-da-fe and Feeding. Everyone knows the first, the second - they like to be silent. But they also know. I heard? I haven’t heard anything but the name, I can see it in my eyes. These are Special Skills. They open on the fifteenth. Auto-da-fé at the saints. They are called white. Feeding at the Reds. Both give death to the player. The first takes away all memories, skills, levels, rolls back characteristics to fives. The second - takes only the gaming experience, without touching the memories of life. And also, leaves Special skills and the memory of Feeding. Understand?

- With difficulties.

- Auto-da-fe is the perfect outcome. Your identity is preserved, but there is no memory of anything. And you swing again. Feeding - incomplete cleansing. You still remember real life and the moment of death in the game, but nothing else. You return to the rep as if you just appeared in this world. You save special skills, but they are blocked tightly at the first levels. At levels that give Special Skills, you get new ones, in addition to the old ones. Understood?

- Yes.

I took a sip of the ale, watching Jerome pour a beer for a customer. Gave out. The man staggered back to the table.

- Which is better, Auto-da-fe or Feeding?

- Feeding.

- Well done. Good answer. I think so too. Our memories are of great value, even if they hurt. Plus, Feeding doesn't leave you with nothing. She also gives a quest, a certain goal. Take revenge on the one who took your skills and experience. Auto-da-fe just turns you into the perfect shadow of your life. You don’t remember anything, echoes of yourself barely glimmer inside, but you become completely different. Tell me what do you remember from life?

I hesitated for a while, for some reason it was difficult to resist Jerome's questions. Something told me that the reason was partly in a psychological trap - he made me answer questions briefly, forming in me the habit of answering everything.

- I don't want to tell.

- Correctly. Do not want. And don't want to. The main thing for me is that there is something inside you that you do not want to tell. Keep this secret. Now you have only two values ​​- memories of the real you and connection with the elf. Do you like her?

- Yes, - I answered this without a shadow of doubt and a hitch.

- Highly?

- Yes.

- And the partner?

- Not really.

- This is very good. I'll explain why. You won't like this night very much. You will be uncomfortable. Therefore, I will say in advance that I do not like this night either. But we must do what we must.

- What will happen?

- I'm not going to surprise you. Everything should look natural. Tell me, this elf. What exactly did she say goodbye to you?

It's hard for me to remember...

- I believe. But remember something.

- She seems to have called me tehra'svoo. And I wished that the forests would take care of me.

"Don't take other women seriously, boy," Jerome chuckled. She dishonored her honor by calling a human an elf. We are all tho'elle for them. So it was and will be.

- Do you know too?! .. - this time I sincerely could not restrain myself.

- Every Outcast knows the Elvish language, understanding what is really happening in our world. But we're talking about your woman now. I don't think she has a human fetish, but she chose you. You have to yourself, but this is not the main thing. People like you meet once in ten. And that's about character. Your appearance is rare. You have a good mix of both. This got me interested.

Jerome paused, pausing for another mug. I meanwhile proceeded to the second helping of ale. There was a slight fog in my head, but I perceived the words surprisingly clearly.

- So here it is. If you haven't made up your mind, I'll tell you one thing. The girl chose you as her husband. And even if you do not want it, she will always be there. Not right now, but later. You just need to leave the city and enter the forest. She will find your trail. She will be looking for you all her life. Creepy, don't you think?

I shook my head uncertainly.

- Also, she will hunt every woman you look at. One-time communication is allowed. I think your elf is not a fool, she knows that it is difficult to keep loyalty in such an alliance. And believe me, she will share a bed with someone in the same way. But her heart has already chosen you, and with the elves this is serious. Fall in love quickly, let go ... almost never. Only death will separate you. Either hers or yours. Yours will never come, but hers ... Do you understand?

“Yes,” I answered stifledly.

The topic caused me an acute attack of discomfort.

- Don't be shy. I see that you have not had women in your life, you are quite reverent about this topic. So here's what I'll say: you need your pointy-eared friend alive. And you have to give her a child. To love or not to love is up to you. But the world is long overdue for a half-breed elf.

- I AM...

- Shut up. I know you don't understand. Will explain. The elves are suffering, and they are not bad guys. People have acquired prejudices, and this is the fault of history. He who seduced the elves entered the war with mankind. Rather, with the "recognized" part of it. Do you know what I'm up to?

- Not...

- You must become an outcast. You must spoil your karma with all your might. And help your partner in the same. If Auto-da-fe is waiting for both of you - sad, but okay. But, you have a real chance to change the balance of affairs in the world. Wait until the next Japanese gets here and picks the same chic hand of cards - I'm more likely to finally stop paying for sour beer in this tavern.

- You so sympathize with the elves? - I broke my promise, but there are too many questions.

- And them too. Listen, - Jerome leaned towards me, resting his palms on the bar. - This world is real shit. And you're a cool guy. I know you're not an errand boy, I won't force you. But it's time for you to start realizing that the Forsaken is not a death sentence, but a chance. A chance to do something with the world. Yes, you have to be bad, but that's the System's fault. Supports this crazy world full of broken people. And the Recognized... support the System. They think it's us, the Outcasts. In elves. In monsters. But in reality, they simply run away from the conflict without solving it. Do you remember the guys who made fun of you at the gate?

- Yes.

- And Suharika?

- Yes.

- They are all Recognized. "Good". Similar?

- Not really...

“They work for the System, which left them with only crappy memories. I know you were promised a new life, happiness, success. But no one will give it. Because here everyone was promised this. And everyone has only two shitty memories left. There are no Heroes in our world. There are only offended people who do bad things to each other. Tomorrow your elf might be raped and killed. They will lose one Confession point on this. Even if she doesn't resist. Even if they fuck her corpse - The system sucks. Do you know why?

- Not.

- Because it gives broken people the right to remain broken. And everyone uses it. Right now, you can go and rape the Outcast. Even as many as four. And still be a good guy. Tell me why.

- Because they are Outcasts, and I am Recognized? ..

- Exactly. Also, because for every crime you lose one point of karma. Do you know how many karma points you lose if you kill five NPCs?

- Five.

- Not. One. Because the minus is charged for unique crimes against non-script. But harm to the Recognized is always punished. The system loves to cheat. Look here.

Jerome took a book out of his pocket. And put it on the counter. He moved his fingertips towards me. Moved away from the counter. Looked around the room. Grabbed the mug. He threw it up, caught it and began to rub it.

I opened someone else's Diary, trying to overcome the viscous feeling of horror that filled me inside.

Jerome.

Level: 1 (1/10)

Reputation: 3329

Strength: 1

Agility: 1 (1/5)

Intelligence: 3 (2/5)

Perception: 9

Luck: ???

Spirit: 56

Title: Punisher

Class: Musketeer

Skills:

Eloquence 5 (1/6)

Speed ​​Charging 7 (4/8)

Accuracy 10 (Max)

Interrogation 4 (3/5)

Flaming Hand 4 (4/5)

Provocation 2 (1/3)

Leadership (1/3)

Stealth 2 (1/3)

Combat knives 5 (1/6)

- Well, how? Don't be silent for a long time. I'm starting to feel embarrassed, - Jerome took the Diary away, looked at it, defiantly threw it somewhere behind his back. - What do you say?

- What about your level and characteristics? What kind of Spirit?.. What is going on with your leveling?

- I after all asked to tell, instead of to ask. Better tell me how cool I am.

- Yeah, you're cool, but...

- And you didn't look at the most important thing. Rejection.

- She's huge.

- Yes, I know, I know, sinful ... - Jerome smiled innocently and spread his hands. So, do you want to know more?

- Of course!

- Good. Then I'll say the last thing before our nightly date. Almost all of my karma is earned by killing the Recognized. Only this method allows you to constantly gain a minus in reputation. This distinguishes the Outcast from the thug, of which there are plenty. Both among the good and among the sinners. But how do I manage to infiltrate cities and towns?

Jerome put his finger to his chin and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. As if trying to remember something.

- Oh, right! - he leaned towards me and whispered mysteriously: - I never leave witnesses.

The events of the day did not fit in my head. Something told me that I heard only the necessary information, and it was like contemplating a mountain. You can see the foot, but the top is hidden among fog and snow. It seems that it is even, almost perfect, but as soon as you get closer, winding paths, slippery stones, and cliffs will appear. And it is far from real knowledge.

If you want to know a mountain, climb it.

I was not sure that I wanted to follow the path of the Outcast. But after the words of Jerome it was impossible to understand what you really want.

In some ways, his words were true, I understood that. Alliel can be harmed by the good. And people are already doing it, destroying plants in the forest. The elf is in danger, and it comes from those who support the war with the elves.

If I want to help a girl, I have to fight against people. And the reputation in this situation can not be saved.

Ha. How naive. As if I could declare such a huge number of people as my enemies ... I won’t have enough strength. Skirmishes with people clearly showed this to me. I can hardly be a fighter even one on one. I'm talking about something more.

Also, sorceress. The thought haunted me ... or rather, a premonition of something really heavy. Something that will happen tonight. After activating the contract, Jerome also wants to talk to me again.

If during the day in the tavern I felt comfort, now, walking out of the washhouse, I shivered. And not from the cool wind chilling wet hair.

The road from the temple, in which baths were built, passed through open places. But I hardly met anyone. Only a couple of tramps noticed that they were sitting under the walls of houses, wrapping themselves in raincoats.

Premonition tormented from the inside, and future events - pressed on the shoulders.

I shook my head. He massaged the whiskey. You need to calm down and take control of yourself. Stop being tragic. I'm not in a flower field to relax. This is the world. Cruel. Complicated. It shouldn't be easy for me. And although the excitement was overwhelming, I had to pull myself together and be glad that aimlessness did not loom ahead.

There is a way. Foggy, but there. And it's like fate itself paves it to me. You need to move forward, not bad and not stumbling.

The road described by Jerome took longer than he promised. But soon the sign with the bed appeared. It appeared out of nowhere, right above me. Either I'm thinking more than I thought, or this place is not so conspicuous.

Opening the door, he cautiously stepped inside. It was light. In front of me is a narrow corridor with a single passage to the right. There was a pleasant aroma of candles, melting wax. At the table, directly opposite the entrance, sat a withered woman. The table blocked almost the entire passage, leaving only a narrow space against the wall. Just right for a man of such complexion as an old woman.

- Good night.

“A room for the night is one coin,” the woman declared at once, without looking up from her notebook. - For a week - five. For a month we agree, we can bargain.

- Coin? .. - I asked again.

I did not have time to get acquainted with local money.

- Yes, a coin. Deaf, son? The old woman raised her eyes. She narrowed her eyes. - OU. You are one of the new Heroes. I'm the Hostess, call me that, hare.

"How will they all know I'm new?" - Annoyed, he asked himself, that's just the problem. Ask this question to someone more experienced.

- I don't have a name yet. Actually, I...

- Look, - the Hostess took a small coin from the table. - This is the main money. The smallest. There are also crystals, they are mined from mines. The cost depends on the color, clarity and size. Red ones are the most common, and ice-like ones are the most expensive. You can also pay with trophies from monsters. Every experienced trader will easily determine the value of what you offer. If you do not believe the merchants, you can exchange at the bank. But banks sometimes cheat too. You'll figure it out in time, little one. So, do you have money?

"Thank you for your valuable information," I bowed my head. - But now I came to visit a girl ...

- Ah... This one... - she winced. - A nice child, but such an unlucky one. Third room.

- How do you understand who I'm talking about? - I was greatly surprised by the careless guess of the Hostess.

“There are no other girls here besides her,” Granny smiled. - Go, son, go.

I thanked him again and hid from the blind gaze of the old woman. I went out into another corridor, this time with doors.

First, second, third. Numbers are painted on the walls in white paint. It's really hard to go wrong.

Approached. He knocked softly.

“Come in,” came a voice from the other side.

I exhaled. He pulled the door towards him. She didn't give in. With annoyance he pushed away. Deaf.

Confused, he looked at the door frame. The door should open towards itself. What's the matter?

"Am I really that weak?" - was horrified, but immediately pulled himself up. Impossible.

He pulled the door handle again.

- How long will it take to get ready? - the sorceress asked discontentedly. Then, apparently, she looked at the door and exclaimed in surprise: - Oh! I forgot to move the bolt!

Something clicked on the other side of the door. And the door was pushed forward.

“Come in,” the healer invited, not at all embarrassed.

She was wearing only a white shirt to the toes. Her hair falls in a chestnut wave to her shoulders, flowing into the snowy curves of the fabric.

- I... woke up?

The girl just smiled. Corners of the mouth, with a strange sadness. She took her hand and pulled it towards her. And although I was weaker, I could not resist.

The door closed behind me. The bolt clicked metal on metal. For some time the sorceress stood with her back to me, not moving or saying anything. There was a strange tension in the air.

- You swam - her voice was quiet, but distinct. - And the clothes were sprinkled with fragrant oils. Did Jerome organize it?

- Yes...

I didn't understand what was happening. The air thickened in the cramped room. The only candle with a flame trembling from the draft. There is only a bed and a wardrobe in the room. The premonition of evil intensified, began to beat. And the draft got colder.

"That's good," the girl turned around. Moisture ran down her cheeks. - That's strange.

- What exactly?..

- All this. The system and its incomprehensible orders. She didn't say anything, did she?