The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) Read Online Free
Author: Alexey Osadchuk
going to be a bunch of laughs.
Cold rain pelted me from the moment I'd exited the portal. A game it might have been, but I was cold and miserable just like in real life. The local architecture had some leaning toward gothic which made a nice backdrop to the lousy weather and knee-deep mud. Yuck. How had I managed to get into this cesspit after the neat sunlit Mellenville? I only had to hope that the rain wouldn't last.
The system's greeting set my alarm bells ringing too, especially its last part,
Greetings, Olgerd! Welcome to glorious Drammen Town!
Warning! Type of climate: moderately aggressive
Warning! Players below level 80 are advised to abstain from visiting Drammen.
I just loved it. Already I felt like turning round and diving back into the portal in search of sunnier climes.
I hurried to install the Drammen and Its Environments app. As if sensing my impatience, the bot helpfully highlighted the route to Lady Mel's offices. Off we go, then!
The first drawback declared itself soon enough. After only a few minutes of walking, I was soaked. Cold raindrops hammered my face, sending rivulets of water trickling down my beard as I waded through the mud. What was the local Mayor thinking of? Or was he simply past caring about his town's Reputation? If the game developers wanted to let players experience the entire scope of the doubtful allure of Frontier life — they had succeeded brilliantly.
Drammen indeed turned out to be a very quiet place. Too quiet, I'd say. Apparently, forum users had been careful not to alienate any potential newcomers.
As I walked, I met no one. The town seemed dead. Actually, I could understand them. They were probably sitting by their nice cozy fireplaces in their nice cozy houses, snug as a bunch of bugs in a rug.
Finally the bot brought me to a dark gloomy edifice with the familiar sign depicting Aquila — the Roman legion's eagle. It was already 11 a.m. but no one seemed in a hurry to answer the door. I couldn't see any potential workers impatient to get down to work, either. Apparently, business wasn't booming.
Never mind. Hadn't Weigner told me not to bother to clock on but to go straight to the mine and start working? Still I thought checking in was a good idea. I went on knocking.
After ten more minutes of unsuccessful door-bashing, I gave up and entered a new address into the bot's memory. My conscience was clear, anyway.
It took my satnav a few minutes to guide me to the town's center. Or should I say, to its poor excuse for a center. The dark gloomy buildings, some in a bad state of semi-repair, created the impression I'd somehow ended up in one of those vampire sagas.
The good news was, the road was getting considerably better as I progressed. Although no one had bothered to switch off the rain, at least the place was relatively mud-free. My first steps along a street paved with ugly uneven cobbles felt like absolute bliss. I'd only been here a half-hour and already I was prepared to run for my life! Which must have been exactly what the game developers wanted players to feel. Very well. In your freakin' dreams.
I still had another five-minute walk to the caravan office that pushed its services under a sign saying The Guiding Eye when a system message popped up,
Warning! Your Hat and Boots have lost 1 pt. Durability!
Was this a joke? I reread the message. It didn't look as if it was. No one was poking fun at me. Apparently, local rain had this destructive effect on a player's clothes. No wonder the street was empty!
I stepped it up. I wasn't going to lose my expensive gear to some stupid rain!
As I pushed the caravan office's door, I was darker than the thunderclouds hovering over this abominable excuse for a place. My walk through the town had cost me a few points of my clothes' Durability. I had to look it up on some forum or other. I couldn't remember seeing anything about it anywhere. The admins must have kept a close eye on official resources.
Cold rain pelted me from the moment I'd exited the portal. A game it might have been, but I was cold and miserable just like in real life. The local architecture had some leaning toward gothic which made a nice backdrop to the lousy weather and knee-deep mud. Yuck. How had I managed to get into this cesspit after the neat sunlit Mellenville? I only had to hope that the rain wouldn't last.
The system's greeting set my alarm bells ringing too, especially its last part,
Greetings, Olgerd! Welcome to glorious Drammen Town!
Warning! Type of climate: moderately aggressive
Warning! Players below level 80 are advised to abstain from visiting Drammen.
I just loved it. Already I felt like turning round and diving back into the portal in search of sunnier climes.
I hurried to install the Drammen and Its Environments app. As if sensing my impatience, the bot helpfully highlighted the route to Lady Mel's offices. Off we go, then!
The first drawback declared itself soon enough. After only a few minutes of walking, I was soaked. Cold raindrops hammered my face, sending rivulets of water trickling down my beard as I waded through the mud. What was the local Mayor thinking of? Or was he simply past caring about his town's Reputation? If the game developers wanted to let players experience the entire scope of the doubtful allure of Frontier life — they had succeeded brilliantly.
Drammen indeed turned out to be a very quiet place. Too quiet, I'd say. Apparently, forum users had been careful not to alienate any potential newcomers.
As I walked, I met no one. The town seemed dead. Actually, I could understand them. They were probably sitting by their nice cozy fireplaces in their nice cozy houses, snug as a bunch of bugs in a rug.
Finally the bot brought me to a dark gloomy edifice with the familiar sign depicting Aquila — the Roman legion's eagle. It was already 11 a.m. but no one seemed in a hurry to answer the door. I couldn't see any potential workers impatient to get down to work, either. Apparently, business wasn't booming.
Never mind. Hadn't Weigner told me not to bother to clock on but to go straight to the mine and start working? Still I thought checking in was a good idea. I went on knocking.
After ten more minutes of unsuccessful door-bashing, I gave up and entered a new address into the bot's memory. My conscience was clear, anyway.
It took my satnav a few minutes to guide me to the town's center. Or should I say, to its poor excuse for a center. The dark gloomy buildings, some in a bad state of semi-repair, created the impression I'd somehow ended up in one of those vampire sagas.
The good news was, the road was getting considerably better as I progressed. Although no one had bothered to switch off the rain, at least the place was relatively mud-free. My first steps along a street paved with ugly uneven cobbles felt like absolute bliss. I'd only been here a half-hour and already I was prepared to run for my life! Which must have been exactly what the game developers wanted players to feel. Very well. In your freakin' dreams.
I still had another five-minute walk to the caravan office that pushed its services under a sign saying The Guiding Eye when a system message popped up,
Warning! Your Hat and Boots have lost 1 pt. Durability!
Was this a joke? I reread the message. It didn't look as if it was. No one was poking fun at me. Apparently, local rain had this destructive effect on a player's clothes. No wonder the street was empty!
I stepped it up. I wasn't going to lose my expensive gear to some stupid rain!
As I pushed the caravan office's door, I was darker than the thunderclouds hovering over this abominable excuse for a place. My walk through the town had cost me a few points of my clothes' Durability. I had to look it up on some forum or other. I couldn't remember seeing anything about it anywhere. The admins must have kept a close eye on official resources.
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