Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (english reading book TXT) 📗

why it was impossible to get a common flying ship into the Hole, and locals had to make do with pseudo submarines assembled using artifact blueprints. Extremely aggressive flora and fauna, unfriendly NPCs, grotesque lifeforms... The majority of local monsters seemed vomit-inducing. The depths of the sea were home to creatures capable of destroying the ship with one blow. The rewards weren’t especially generous, either, and required a lot of effort and risk. Naturally, the number of players who hung around there wasn’t high (no more than a thousand visits a day for all time zones), and they were scattered. There were no powerful clans, other than an unofficial community of free captains whose ships prowled the underground ocean. Sphere generally didn’t count any saints among its players, and the locals held no scruples about killing and robbing all outsiders. Still, they let each other be and sometimes even helped—in this inhospitable world, mutual responsibility was necessary for survival. Rubbing his hands in satisfaction, Rocky told me that we were about to reach their lair in the Stone Forest. Other than farming sea monsters, Thrainul also dabbled in trade with the upper worlds. I understood his scheme as basic profiteering: finding out the demands of NPCs in certain ports and delivering small batches of relevant goods. Going by the volume of his cargo, I doubted that he made a lot of money.

The sharp tooth of a stalagmite announced that we were getting closer to the Stone Forest. The further we sailed, the more of them emerged from the water, sticking out in sharp columns like Christmas icicles the size of a cliff. The navigator had to maneuver around the obstacles under the water or above it. It really did look like a forest, a forest of stone spires protruding from the black depths, a chilling maze. Watching the captain, I realized that only an experienced pilot could get there; that place was accessible only to those who knew the right waterways.

Lights shone in the distance—a circle of buoys and a pale-yellow shimmer somewhere far above.

“Here it is, my darling,” Thrainul purred under his breath, slowing down the ship. A large stalagmite came out of the fog, its flat surface covered with many buildings sticking to it like swallow nests. I saw berths and walkways, a mishmash of various structures, and the chains of hoisting winches that held ships hanging in the air. The Stone Forest had no harbor. Several vessels were anchored next to it, while others had been raised to the wharves above the water, probably for repairs or unloading. Our ship seemed to be the largest of them all.

“I’m buddies with all the locals, but you aren’t. So this here’s rule number one: stick with me. You’re only safe when you’re close to me. This place has unwritten PVP restrictions, so it shouldn’t be too dangerous,” the captain told us after assembling us on deck. “Still, never go wandering about without any of the crew. The resp point’s close, but I don’t really want to get anybody out of there. Rule number two: don’t touch unfamiliar items, don’t eat strange food, and don’t accept gifts from strangers. Have I made myself clear? Then come with me!”

A horribly screeching elevator carried us upward, two clay golems pulling the hoisting winch that held the rusty cage. On our way there, we passed gaps and growths on the giant cliff covered with houses, pathways, and staircases. Curious faces peeked out of the windows by the railings.

Shaky platforms trembling beneath their feet, the unmoving sea far below, clear as glass... How could they live there? The stalactite stairs led us to the top, to the lively streets lit by rows of yellow lanterns. Among the crowds, I saw players, NPCs, and mounts—even a birdie shot by us in the sky. Despite the vast array of races present, all of them had one thing in common: low karma.

“Storm, drop by the wharves and tell them to send us drinking water. Globber, find engineers to repair the ship. We need to replace the third gear in the handwheel, remember?” Thrainul ordered his crew around. “Drumba, you’ll take care of stevedoring. After you’re finished, find us in the tavern...”

The tavern was a building with a pointed roof and a garland of lanterns that invitingly gleamed at us from the distance. The sign said, “Pirate’s Heaven.”

“The lair of local smugglers and pirates,” Rocky whispered to me. “The liveliest place in all of the Hole!”

It really was lively inside. The swirling puffs of tobacco smoke made Fayana cough, and I heard the sounds of a violin and a slightly tinkly piano. NPC waitresses scurried around the tables, deftly evading the customers’ pinches, and a half-naked beastgirl writhed around on the stage, clearly a professional. Almost twenty heads turned to us at once, and Thrainul got more than a share of mumbled greetings and attempts at handshake as he walked to the bar counter. Around us were players, NPCs, and pawns of all shapes and sizes, including rare races like ogres, fishmen, and serpentfolk. I even noticed an odd creature fully decked in a deepwater suit with a round diving hood.

“Thrainul! You old beard, did you bring me my wine?” the barman, a large bald orc with a big belly, yelled across the hall.

“I did, just as promised. Send a boat to the Abyssal,” the zwerg boomed, content. “Fifteen, I mean thirteen cases.”

“Have you guzzled down two along the way?” the orc asked, grinning. “Well, at least it’s something! The guys here are sick of that mushroom slop, and we’re running out of rum!”

“What’s new around here?”

“New? Nothing, really. As usual, everyone’s whining about the horrors of the Hole and dreaming of leaving for the upper worlds, but nobody does anything. Britt managed to get a two-headed mutated shark. Oh, and one more thing... Just before you, Mancurt brought three bounty hunters. They