The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Alexey Osadchuk
me a download of the aforementioned app.
I sat back on a broad bench and stretched my legs, offering my feet up to the fire. Oh. It felt too good. A well-deserved meal and some warmth were definitely welcome.
Let's have a look at their app, then.
It was indeed small but very informative. Just as I supposed, The Guiding Eye offered both transportation of passengers and their protection. It had over twenty routes to choose from, complete with security guards. In my particular case, the guards' levels were all 100+, even though the mobs in the caravan's path were below 90.
Never mind. What did I expect? They needed to make their living too. I, however, with my miserable level zero was more than dependent on their services.
The transfer from Drammen to the Citadel took about forty-five minutes. Cost: fifteen gold. Multiplied by two trips a day, that's thirty. Costly but doable. Not as comfortable as portal travel but I couldn't do anything about it. I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it. It was already a good thing there was a commute available, allowing me to come and work here daily. At least I'd save some money on the rent! I could only hope that living in the Citadel barracks was worth it.
Jesus. How on earth had I managed to walk into all this?
The caravanners had their own discounts too. They offered a choice of travel passes: for ten, twenty and thirty trips each. I could use the twenty-trip one. It cost 260 gold. I thought I might buy one once I finished reading.
Another important thing: I wouldn't have to walk these forty-five minutes' worth of travel. Which in my case was extremely cost-effective. The Guiding Eyes transported their clients in armored wagons which by themselves offered guaranteed protection from local monsters. That's provided the guards failed to defend the passengers — which, according to the caravanners themselves, was impossible.
I also saw some positive reviews of their work left by top players and respectable clan members. All this looked perfectly kosher. No sign of any strings attached.
"You! Are you warmer now?!"
The threatening growl distracted me from my musings. I raised my head. A giant Rhoggh towered not two paces away from me. Name: Varn. Level: 150. He was hung like a Christmas tree with stabbing and slashing weapons. The grimace on his fanged mug was apparently supposed to denote a smile.
This was one tough guy. If all the caravan guards were like him, it wasn't that bad after all. You wouldn't want to mess with Talina's brother.
"Yes, thank you," I managed a smile.
"You're the one who wanted to join a caravan?" he asked, taking a seat opposite. The crude bench creaked its complaint. I got the impression that the inch-thick tabletop was buckling under the weight of his elbows.
"Exactly," I hurriedly assured him. "I'd like to buy a twenty-trip pass. To the Citadel."
Varn bared his teeth in a scowl which seemed to signify his satisfaction with my words. Strangely enough, his toothy grin betrayed no surprise. They must have seen a lot of guys like myself. My mentioning the Citadel didn't seem to throw him, either.
"Oh well," he growled. "If you're happy about everything, I'll forward you the contract."
* * *
Once we'd signed the provisional agreement, he said, "There's one little problem."
I tensed. "What's up?"
"It's this wretched weather, dammit. We can't get to the Citadel until tomorrow night."
"You don't mean it!"
Talk about bad news. I was going to lose another day, almost. And I needed to report to Captain Gard. This was bad. Very.
Seeing my jaw drop, Varn tried to reason with me,
"You need to understand, in weather like this you'd better steer clear of that location. Traveling cross-country in this weather is not a walk in the park. I wouldn't like to be seen there on a night like this. Let alone you, with your zero level and unprotected gear. Cheer up, man. The local wizards say it will clear up by tomorrow night. This place doesn't have
I sat back on a broad bench and stretched my legs, offering my feet up to the fire. Oh. It felt too good. A well-deserved meal and some warmth were definitely welcome.
Let's have a look at their app, then.
It was indeed small but very informative. Just as I supposed, The Guiding Eye offered both transportation of passengers and their protection. It had over twenty routes to choose from, complete with security guards. In my particular case, the guards' levels were all 100+, even though the mobs in the caravan's path were below 90.
Never mind. What did I expect? They needed to make their living too. I, however, with my miserable level zero was more than dependent on their services.
The transfer from Drammen to the Citadel took about forty-five minutes. Cost: fifteen gold. Multiplied by two trips a day, that's thirty. Costly but doable. Not as comfortable as portal travel but I couldn't do anything about it. I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it. It was already a good thing there was a commute available, allowing me to come and work here daily. At least I'd save some money on the rent! I could only hope that living in the Citadel barracks was worth it.
Jesus. How on earth had I managed to walk into all this?
The caravanners had their own discounts too. They offered a choice of travel passes: for ten, twenty and thirty trips each. I could use the twenty-trip one. It cost 260 gold. I thought I might buy one once I finished reading.
Another important thing: I wouldn't have to walk these forty-five minutes' worth of travel. Which in my case was extremely cost-effective. The Guiding Eyes transported their clients in armored wagons which by themselves offered guaranteed protection from local monsters. That's provided the guards failed to defend the passengers — which, according to the caravanners themselves, was impossible.
I also saw some positive reviews of their work left by top players and respectable clan members. All this looked perfectly kosher. No sign of any strings attached.
"You! Are you warmer now?!"
The threatening growl distracted me from my musings. I raised my head. A giant Rhoggh towered not two paces away from me. Name: Varn. Level: 150. He was hung like a Christmas tree with stabbing and slashing weapons. The grimace on his fanged mug was apparently supposed to denote a smile.
This was one tough guy. If all the caravan guards were like him, it wasn't that bad after all. You wouldn't want to mess with Talina's brother.
"Yes, thank you," I managed a smile.
"You're the one who wanted to join a caravan?" he asked, taking a seat opposite. The crude bench creaked its complaint. I got the impression that the inch-thick tabletop was buckling under the weight of his elbows.
"Exactly," I hurriedly assured him. "I'd like to buy a twenty-trip pass. To the Citadel."
Varn bared his teeth in a scowl which seemed to signify his satisfaction with my words. Strangely enough, his toothy grin betrayed no surprise. They must have seen a lot of guys like myself. My mentioning the Citadel didn't seem to throw him, either.
"Oh well," he growled. "If you're happy about everything, I'll forward you the contract."
* * *
Once we'd signed the provisional agreement, he said, "There's one little problem."
I tensed. "What's up?"
"It's this wretched weather, dammit. We can't get to the Citadel until tomorrow night."
"You don't mean it!"
Talk about bad news. I was going to lose another day, almost. And I needed to report to Captain Gard. This was bad. Very.
Seeing my jaw drop, Varn tried to reason with me,
"You need to understand, in weather like this you'd better steer clear of that location. Traveling cross-country in this weather is not a walk in the park. I wouldn't like to be seen there on a night like this. Let alone you, with your zero level and unprotected gear. Cheer up, man. The local wizards say it will clear up by tomorrow night. This place doesn't have
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