– Well… sort of.
Unfortunate silences, completely satisfied by explanation while I'm still quite far from complete clarity.
What server is it? What are the laws of this particular world? Where are allowed exits located through which we could get Unfortunate out?
I even fear to think about what to do next.
The path is well treaded down as if a whole army marched here not long ago. The snow melts as soon as it touches the path, maybe due to the magic. Role-playing world lives according to its own laws, the magic exists here.
– Where should we go now? – with this phrase Vika sets the command upon me. It's so fluttering to be trusted… I wish I could justify this trust. I try to remember role-playing spaces' maps but abandon this idea immediately, these are drawn by whoever wants to.
And at this moment I hear a quiet drumming from behind the nearest cliff, either a mad horse with castanets on its legs or a giant with jaws clattering of cold.
There's no time to think.
– Here, quick! – I whisper and dive into wilted fir grove, put Unfortunate on the snow and press a finger to my lips, – Tsssss…
Vika and Unfortunate can't be seen from the path. I stand on it, outstretching my legs widely and pull off the belt. 'Warlock' unwraps into the fiery lash with a rumble.
I must look pretty scary, a gloomy male naked down to his belt, with the shoulders powdered with snow. I ve modeled Gunslinger's body sinewy and strong, it's immediately seen that he's a mighty fighter… and this glowing lash in his hand too… any troll would be scared.
The clatter comes closer.
I make a bloodthirsty grimace and wait.
A little figure, hardly as high as my chest comes out from behind the cliff.
A giant with clattering jaws indeed…
The face and build of the traveler is like the child's but something is definitely wrong with his hormones: his legs, bare up to his knees, are covered with thick fur. Oh yeah, with such paws it's cozy even in the snow. A little drum hangs on traveler's chest and he beats on it with sticks as he walks.
A hobbit.
That's good.
Noticing me, the hobbit stops dead on his tracks, even one drumstick falls in the snow.
– Hee-hee… – I say evilly.
The hobbit doesn't drum anymore but his jaws really start to chatter.
– Who? – I demand, stretching 'Warlock' towards the hobbit. The lash starts to lengthen excitedly and I have to pull it back quickly.
– Harding, s…sir! – whispers hobbit.
– Who? – I ask again in a normal voice this time. But poor hobbit is in utter panic now, he even doesn't try to grab a small dagger carelessly stuck behind his belt.
– H-harding, kind sir. S-sam sired Frodo, Frodo sired Holfast, Holfast sired Harding…
– You, huh?
– Me, kind sir!
– Quite in vain!
– Yes, kind sir, – agrees Harding obediently.
– Don't 'sir' me! – I bellow, – And even more – I'm not kind at all! I'm… – the sudden inspiration strikes me, – Conan! Brave Conan the Kimmerian!
Hobbit definitely have heard of Conan, he starts to nod frequently, not asking how the hell had Howard's character got into Tolkien's world. Though, role-players are the folks that are easily carried away and such trinkets don't limit them. I could even call myself Koschej The Immortal { a Russian folklore evil character } if my build would allow me to.
– Where are you going? – I go on with questioning circling around the hobbit. He turns around trying not to lose me from his sight.
– Catching up with the a-army…
– What the hell army?
– The Elvish one… We go to beat the Orcs and the Dwarves!
– Why?
– Because they are bad!
I start to be more and more sure that it's a little kid in the hobbit's body. An adult would find more serious arguments and of course would try to fight.
– Army… – I say thoughtfully, – Ah, yes! I remember, there was one…
The dread is in hobbit's eyes. He squints at the fiery lash, not doubting the sad fate of the Elvish army anymore.
– I've heard that you hobbits are marsupial, – I inform, – Huh?
The hobbit shakes his head in shock and presses his hands against his stomach.
– Any grub?
Brave Harding gives me his rucksack, where I find a couple of cookies, a chunk of smoked meat, a flask; I soften.
– Provident you are, hobbit… And what is this?!
I hook out 'Snickers' from the sack's bottom.
The hobbit bursts into tears immediately. Yeah, the kid alright.
I tear the wrapping from the candy with teeth, bite off a half, the rest of it I return to the hobbit. He stops crying at once.
– How do you think, will you beat the Dwarves? – I inquire. One can't just rob the guy and let him go. What about to chat?
– We will! – nods the hobbit, – They make arrows from yew-tree, and these are bad! And also they fight in 'hird', and this formation is bad… { Hird – a native Dwarvish battle formation, a kind of phalanx, described by Nick Perumov in his book "The Ring of Darkness" } I don't have even a bit of eager to get into details of the quarrel between the Elves and the Dwarves.
– Is a city far from here?
– Lorien is 5 miles away…
Something is wrong with geography here… oh well, never mind. If I also could find out the server name…
– Who is ruling this land?
– Fair Legolas the Elf!
Alrighty, this information is enough.
– Go, – I say hanging the hobbit's sack on my shoulder.
Harding doesn't protest against the robbery. Even more, he shyly asks:
– Can I go with you Conan? They'll beat the Dwarves without me, I guess.
Yeah right… I do really need that… I make an evil grimace again and whisper:
– Don't you know that the hobbit is not only costly fur? Also it is 30-40 kilos of tasty, easily digested meat!
Books don't lie, hobbits really can run fast: just furry heels blink away in the snow dust.
I return to Vika and Unfortunate in the best mood. They heard the talk, so I don't have to repeat it for them.
– Here's the food, – I hand the sack to Unfortunate, – Now we'll make a bed for you and will exit the Deep. We'll return openly, through Lorien, with normal gear and will get you out of here. Okay?
Unfortunate nods.
– You'll have to wait for three-four hours… – I say thoughtfully, – Is it okay?
Though we don't have any other choice anyway. I won't be able to drag him under the snow, half naked, for five miles. Together with Vika we make a bed from twigs under the old fir tree, put Unfortunate on it and hand the sack with trophies to him. A light alcoholic beverage is in the flask, one better not use it to warm up in the real frost but why not in virtuality?
– Let's surface? – I ask Vika, – We'll meet in three hours… say, at the entrance into Legolas' server.
She nods, a moment – and her form dissolves in the air.
– Take care Unfortunate, – I say.
Abyss-abyss, I'm not yours…
100
I exited right in time, it's 9:45 AM.
– Immersion completed, – I ordered to Windows-Home and attacked the fridge. Without any result, of course.
– Downloading the mail, – informed the computer.
Hurriedly dressed, I ran out to the street. Fortunately it was almost nobody in the shop around the corner, and I was back by 10, just in time to tap Maniac on the shoulder who was dolefully ringing my doorbell.
– Gonna down some nourishments?
– Yup. Will you?
– Me too. But later. – Maniac squeezed into apartment before me. While I was shaking off my shoes, he was by the computer. When I padded to him, he had already shut down Windows and was squirting along the Norton cube marking file by file.