I went back to the Vets' storage and started another search, this time only limiting it by class—Death Knight—and price—lowest first. Well, well. About three thousand search results, the nicest thingies smiling at me from their thirty-grand-plus positions. Looked like I was again forced to buy a few top items and clutter the remaining slots with their budget versions. Not that this particular strategy was without its fortes. It had served me well last time I'd done it.
I pondered over both alternatives. Still, it was probably better to buy the best I could afford. Was I prepared to spend my money on a ton of low-class gear so that one day I was faced with the fact that at level (say) 120, a poorly invested eight thousand bucks hadn't provided me with the advantages I'd hoped for? Much better to get a couple of true uber waffles that I could at some later date exchange for some epics and artifacts.
That brought me back to the initial scenario. Pets were my trump card. I sorted the search results by Raises the summoned creature's level: highest first. Just in case you wondered, Death Knights—who were the most deprived in this respect—also had access to the superest items. Not that I complained, really. Who was I, after all—a humble Death Knight coming to them cap in hand for a handful of bonuses for his sickly pet.
Panting from the effort, my inner greedy pig and myself studied the offers. I ran a similar search on the auctions: ten times more choice, but their prices tended to sneer rather than smile.
Soon I'd sighted the first uber goodie:
Renegade's Steel Boots
Item class: Unique
Effect 1: +110 to Armor, +25 to Intellect, +25 to Strength
Effect 2: Speeds up mana regeneration 4% .
Effect 3: The raised creature has a 50% chance of keeping one of its special skills.
Effect 4: +7 to the raised creature's level
Effect 5: -1 to your relationship with Races of Light
Effect 6: +1 to your relationship with Dark Races
Class restrictions: Only Death Knight
Race restrictions: Only races of Light
Jeez. These were my size, tailor made. Having said that, thirty-one thousand gold equaled three thousand bucks: basically, I was exchanging thirty grams of printed paper for a few thousand lines of program code. No, not like that. Was I going mad? There was no code to talk of anymore; nothing to do with dollars. I was behaving like a Russian immigrant in his new home country who'd convert every price tag he saw into rubles and either rub his hands with glee or grasp his head in despair. That wasn't the life I wanted for myself. Money had to pull its weight. It shouldn't collect dust; it had to grow, multiplying my loot and experience.
Now. The next item worth its while was a breastplate, also Death Knight restricted. Necros can't wear heavy armor and they can't count on strength bonuses. The breastplate looked intimidating:
Nazgul Backbone Breastplate.
Item class: Unique
Effect 1: +210 to Armor, +250 to Mana, +250 to Life, +10% to magic resistance.
Effect 2: In case of an attack by a stabbing weapon, there is a 15% chance of receiving a critical hit.
Effect 3: If the wearer's Life drops below 20%, the Aura of Fear will cover all beings within 10 paces, paralyzing them for 2.5 sec.
Effect 4: +6 to the raised creature's level
Effect 5: Sends fragment of bone flying whenever the wearer sustains damage, injuring all enemies within 3 paces and dealing them 40 pts. damage.
Class restrictions: only Death Knight
I mulled over the stats comparing them to those of other suitable objects, finally coming to the conclusion that the breastplate was definitely the coolest of the available. I had to buy it. Thirty-five grand down. I wiped away the sweat. I'd never had the chance to spend such amounts so quickly before. Fifteen thousand bucks in the last hour, the mind boggles. Having said that, easy come, easy go. There were plenty of castles still left, LOL.
I also laid an eye on a bracelet which wasn't particularly impressive, just +3 to pet's level, but being jewelry, it had attracted the attention of a host of other Necros who'd forced the price sky high. Never mind. It could wait. Especially because my reserve was running low. What was it I'd said about low-class gear?
For the next two hours, I pawed over my gold choosing budget versions of the remaining equipment. They wouldn't last, anyway, so I'd have to replace them one day.
With every delivery, my bag got tangibly heavier. Finally, I was done. I spread the remaining pennies thin over numerous clothes and jewelry slots. That was it, enough.
I changed into my new acquisitions and hopped around a bit, testing them. There was some clinking and clanking here and there but not much, despite the hundred fifty pounds of steel hung on me and another seventy in my bag. God bless the game physics! With my strength numbers, I didn't even feel anything lifting under 220 pounds. Above that, it went straight into overload.
Almost ready. I PM'd Cryl to let him know I had to leave for a couple days in order to complete a quest and could be reached by PM if needs be. I warned him about the contents of my bedside cabinet, asking him to take good care of Lena, accept her into our group, invest in some nice fat buffs and get leveling.
I walked downstairs to the portal hall past a few stationary patrols posted at the castle's key points. A couple of women and guards recoiled, shrinking out of my way, still wound up by Frag's security drills even though the threat level had now been lowered to yellow. And there I walked, a ghostly figure adorned with the Lord of the Dead's black crown, the breastplate's yellow ribs sticking out, a tiny piece of dark amber pulsating over my heart. I had used the precious gem to decorate my admittedly unaesthetic breastplate, filling one of the three available enhancement slots which incidentally had also boosted my Dark spells. It was probably a good idea to remove the breastplate in polite society, for fear of scaring everyone shitless.
I quickly arranged for a teleport to a small town about a hundred miles away from the castle. Its name didn't say much to me: my choice had been random. The portal popped open, taking me there. Another three minute wait in order to arrange for another transfer to their nearest town. Rinse and repeat. Fifteen minutes, six teleports and a hundred fifty gold later, I completed my little loose-end tying-up operation, ending up at the already-familiar square in the Original City.
When I'd been there last, I'd made a mental note of an imposing shop sign that competed with nearby bank logos. Thror's Gem House. I dreaded to think how much it cost them to keep a high-end edifice like that in the city's main square.
The massive door opened easily. Gear wheels turned, initiating a system of counterweights. Needless to say, everything worked without so much as a squeak. In place of an ordinary shop bell, I was met by the sound of a miniature gold hammer striking a silver anvil. Its significance dawned on me when I saw the goldsmith's apprentice in charge of greeting customers. A dwarf! The first ever dwarf I'd met in this world!
We both froze, studying each other. The dwarf stared at me with surprise, seeing a High Elf in a Drow city. His eyes widened as he took in my friendly status and the Mark of the House of Night. And once he noticed the piece of amber on my chest, he seemed to lose all contact with reality.
"With due respect," I patted his shoulder to wake him up, "I'd like to see Master Thror."
The dwarf startled, coming to. "I'm afraid, the Father of the House doesn't receive visitors any more," he cast me a guilty look.