“Wait, what?”
How did he know my name? NPCs never paid any attention to players’ conversations about real life. As if they had a filter in their ears.
Patrick extended a hand. I answered likewise, stunned, and mentally gave the system a command to start recording.
“Pleased to meet you, kid.” The handshake was firm. “I remembered after all. The Sleeping God cleansed my memory of the imprinted recollections—the false memories. A side effect was that my alcoholism is gone. As it turns out, that disgusting habit came from outside too. The future mage Jane was never in my life. I never fought the Swarm and never served in the Commonwealth army… But I lost both my legs in the Third World War. Back there, on Earth. On the real Earth, you understand? Back there, I had a bride called Jane. With my own hands I…”
A tear rolled down Patrick’s cheek.
“So Snowstorm transferred your consciousness into Dis?” I asked. Behemoth’s gaze burned my back. The Sleeping God was hurrying me, but I couldn’t just leave. “How?”
“Yes,” Patrick confirmed. “As for the how, better ask them. I remember growing up in Brooklyn, fighting in North China. After sendee, I planned to join the Mars colonists, but I met Jane… I don’t belong to this world, Alex, but since life has given me a second chance and steady legs… Dumb to drink that away, right?” He laughed bitterly. “I say that so you that you know who you’re dealing with.”
“Uhm… Patrick O’Gradv, veteran of World War III?”
“No, I mean him.” Patrick looked at Behemoth’s figure, frozen outside the temple. “He isn’t some virtual game god. The Sleeping God is something more. Go, he’s waiting.”
I ran the fifty’ yards to the temple, reading the conditions of Patrick’s quest, altered, but still there:
Become a Man
Patrick O’Grady, First Priest of the Sleeping Gods, fell in love with Stephanie Katon, landlady of the Pig and Whistle tavern, on the island of Kharinza. Help him ‘become a man’ again, returning his former reputation and authority in the community, so that he can win Stephanie’s heart.
Rewards:
—
2 million experience points
—
your reputation with Patrick O’Grady will increase by 500
The quest progress bars hadn’t gone anywhere either, showing in numbers exactly what Patrick had to strove for to ‘become a man’:
Alcoholism
Days without alcohol: 1/21.
Appearance Charisma: 4/15.
Physical stats
Strength: 10/45. Agility: 8/35. Endurance: 9/35. Perception
12/30.
Reputation
Stephanie Katon: 11/2000 (ambivalence).
Thanks to all our followers of the Sleeping Gods, Patrick, as First Priest, had exceeded the required stats long ago, but apparently only his own attributes counted here.
How could I help him? For the most part, it depended on him. All I could do was… Yeah, that was it. Overload him with work. The clan could use a supply manager available around the clock in Dis. His combat skills from the real world could come in handy too. We just had to level him up.
Behemoth met me at the threshold to the temple. The Sleeper’s avatar wasn’t particularly nightmarish or large—a humanoid figure with the head of a hippopotamus and armor that emitted smoke. He nodded, disappeared through the doors. I ran after. An invisible dome covered the temple, fully cutting us off from the world.
“Greetings, Initial. Make yourself comfortable.”
A table and two comfy-looking chairs materialized between us. A crystalline jug of transparent liquid appeared in Behemoth’s hand. He poured it into a single glass.
“Ambrosia of the Sleepers. You will be the first mortal in ten thousand years who has earned the honor of chinking it.”
After carefully accepting the ambrosia from the god’s hands, I took a swallow. The drink vaguely reminded me of the one that Fortune gave me. The only way I could describe it is to say that it was the tastiest water in the world—crystal clean, and somehow unbelievably nice without any kind of taste…
Ambrosia of the Sleepers.
You drank of divinity and absorbed a particle of the true flesh of the Sleeping Gods. From now on, they will always be with you, and if it is their will, they will appear in your darkest hour.
“The ambrosia’s effect is pretty ambiguous,” I said. “You could have warned me, Sleeper.”
“The effect is clear!” Behemoth’s voice boomed to the rafters. “Now we will always be near, and if it does not violate the balance and harmony of the universe, then we will help. To business, Initial! Make your report.”
Knowing the Sleeper, I just laid everything out to him, although he was already informed on some of it. From the events of the Nether and the restoration of Tiamat’s temple, to the fight in the desert, the death off Shazz and my recent battle against the legates. I fleetingly mentioned Irita joining the clan and Patrick’s news, so that my report was complete. It took a long time to tell it all. The Sleeping God listened carefully, asked questions about the Nether and the place’s strange nature. He asked less about the Destroying Plague and about what the Nucleus had become. He must have already done his own research in his time in the creature’s lair.
“Eleven hours until the Supreme Legate revives?” Behemoth asked. “That is enough time for Tiamat to remove the undead curse from you and your friends. She can take shape here, but better you visit her yourself. She has more power in her own temple. In addition, Tiamat has gained enough strength to reward you generously for your efforts to erect her temple.”
“Do I have to bring everyone with the curse to her? I told you what happened to our builders. In the other world, the one we come from, some died. Others are still alive… They can’t come to Disgardium while they’re undead, Sleeping God!”
“They will have to risk it. Tiamat must see them all to remove the curse.”
“Alright.”
“At your request, I have developed a weave of silence,” Behemoth said, moving onto the next subject.
