by P. J. Frost
So naturally, I would feel personally empowered by this item. My avatar was coded that way.
But was that really all there was to it? Or was it some clue involving whatever force had carried me here? Once again, I couldn't help but think of The Wizard of Oz... the part where the twister picks up Dorothy's house and blows it all the way into another dimension.
I glanced down at Erinye's pointy boots, and for the briefest of moments, I thought they were actually covered with rubies – but when I blinked, I realized that they were just lurid bloodstains. The designer who had created her had probably envisioned some heavily fetishized scene of her tromping through the guts of her enemies or something.
“Do try to survive this trial, Sorcerer of Soggoth-Nur,” she said. There was a trace of softness in her tone. “When you return, I wish to hear more of your peculiar tales.”
“Oh, you will, don't worry. I've got a million of 'em.” I let out a humorless laugh and turned, trudging off into the forest and wondering if I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
I didn't encounter many threats on my search for the Bograh. The jungle was eerily quiet, except for a flock of Ripper Bats that burst out of the underbrush – their razor-tipped wings nearly sliced me to ribbons, but my robe was able to deflect most of the damage.
At first, I was grateful to the game for not throwing a lot of smaller challenges at me prior to the big showdown with the Bograh.
Then, as the shadows began to close in around me and the silence pressed against my ears like giant hands, it occurred to me that the reason no other creatures had been programmed to attack was to send players like me a chilling message: Whatever the Bograh was, it was so fearsome that it had scared off all the other wildlife. Not so much as a cricket remained.
Just a grove that had become a dark green tomb.
And if there aren't any animals left for the Bograh to catch and eat, I thought grimly, it's bound to be mighty hungry for whoever's dumb enough to wander into his neck of the woods.
The trees around me seemed to be getting more twisted and sinister. Their thorny, claw-like branches scraped at my face and robe. There were tiny flickers of red in my peripheral vision, and I realized it was because the barbs on the plants were mildly poisonous. If I didn't reach the lair of the beast soon, I'd have to quaff a Minor Health Potion just so I could be at full fighting capacity when I got there.
As I doggedly pushed through the thick black vines and tendrils, I wondered exactly what sort of creature I was about to face. The game's designers had a fondness for clever wordplay, obviously, so I reasoned that there might be some clue in the thing's name.
“Bograh,” I mused under my breath. “There's, like, an 'ogre' sound to it, so it could be some mutated offshoot of that... 'Big Ogre?' 'Bog Ogre?' Then again, maybe the 'Bog-' could be a reference to a Boggart, so a shape-shifting ghost of some kind? I mean, Ogres and Boggarts are both things I've faced before, so if this is just a 'roided-out version of one of those, I should be good...”
Suddenly, I heard a heavy crunching sound behind me. Then another, and another. Like something stepping on piles of dead leaves.
Or bones.
I whirled around... and no, as it turned out, the Bograh was neither an Ogre nor a Boggart.
It wasn't like anything I had ever seen before. Not in any book, show, game, or movie.
In fact, it was so nightmarish and surreal that upon looking at it, my brain momentarily vapor-locked, like something out of a Lovecraft story.
The thing stood about eight feet tall. It had a bulbous, misshapen body that was essentially a giant bundle of folded wings... robin wings, moth wings, bat wings, raven wings, butterfly wings, buzzard wings, of all different colors and patterns.
Nestled deep in the skin between those wings were irregularly-placed eyes which, again, seemed to belong to all kinds of creatures, of all shapes and sizes. Birds. Insects. Snakes. Fish. Humans. Some blinked, while others simply stared.
But they all had one thing in common: They burned with malevolent hatred.
The monster shambled forth on fleshy, multi-jointed, crab-like legs that protruded from the base of its hideous form.
And then its wings unfurled... and my brain just about cracked like a cold egg dropped in boiling water.
Each wing had a mouth hidden beneath it. Once again, the mouths belonged to about a dozen different species. There was one with the mouth of a cobra, its hooked fangs gleaming with toxin. Another had the jaws of a shark, and another had the snapping beak of a giant squid.
Perhaps the most ghastly one, though, was the human mouth. It took in a deep breath, opened as wide as it could – and released a sustained, high-pitched, bloodcurdling shriek.
Chapter Seven
My head began to throb instantly, and my entire field of vision trembled. I saw flashing red lights, and I understood that the Bograh's screaming mouth was dealing out extreme sonic damage. My health meter was diminishing rapidly.
Fortunately, I remembered a spell for just such an occasion. And best of all, it would take less than a fifth of my magic meter to perform.
“Dome of Silence!” I yelled, pointing my new staff at the Bograh. The emerald glowed fiercely, and a thick blast of turquoise energy shot forth, forming a bubble around the monster. The screeching was cut off at once, and my health meter stabilized.
For all of two and a half seconds.
Because although the Dome of Silence was good at making things, well, “silent”, it didn't immobilize, incapacitate, or otherwise harm them. So when, for example, it was used against a Blazing Banshee, it was mostly effective because those creatures' sonic screams were their only real means of attack.
With the Bograh, apparently, silencing it was just extending an engraved invitation for it to find another way to kick my ass.
It charged forward on its crustacean appendages, flapping its wings at me. As it came, it twirled around in dizzying circles like a dervish – mesmerizing me with the patterns and movements of its wings while terrifying me with its rows of spinning mouths.
Whoever had envisioned and programmed this nightmare fuel, I had to hand it to them: They were very inventive.
The most bizarre thing was that since it was effectively dragging the Dome of Silence along with it and I was within that area, I couldn't even hear myself screaming.
The wings punched, and the mouths bit, causing my health meter to reduce by half and my field of vision to blink red. More than that, though, the entire experience was making me panic and freeze. I had no context to even properly absorb the thing that was assaulting me, let alone fight back against it.
Still, I had to try.
I backed up as quickly as I could to put some distance between me and the abomination, just as I had with the Aracula earlier. And once more, I called out “Cosmic Onyx!” to blast the Bograh backward and away from me.
The black energy snaked out of the stone and was immediately absorbed by the Bograh. I could sense its strength increasing.
And that was when it hit me.
Another built-in rule of games like WarriorWorld: Frequently, in missions leading up to a confrontation with a “Big Bad,” some of the smaller and less-formidable monsters along the way would require specific tactics to eliminate... tactics which hinted at what it would take to destroy the quest's final boss.
The terrors from the Void Beyond (like the Aracula) were clearly patterned after the freakish otherworldly critters from the stories of Lovecraft, a connection I'd made when first looking at the Bograh. So it made sense that, like the Aracula, the dark power of the Onyx would only feed into it rather than harming it.
So, first things first: I needed to neutralize the Bograh's wings and teeth – preferably with the same spell because I wasn't sure I would have the time or the magic meter left for separate spells.
“Blazing Bands of Brakye!” I bellowed, hoping it would work.
A thick band of purple energy hummed to life around the Bograh, tig
htening at once. It firmly pinned all of the wings down over the mouths, hiding them once more and making the creature into little more than a column of murderous eyes.
I had about a third of my magic meter left. That meant about two more major spells before it went kaput.
Thankfully, I knew just the one I wanted to use.
“Solar Flare!”
The blast of sunlight burned the Bograh, causing it to urgently blink red and skitter around on its stubby crab legs. The Dome of Silence had disappeared, and I could hear the muffled squalls of the mouths under the wings. The purple band around it was fading quickly as the binding spell wore off, and I knew if I didn't put it down fast, it would rally one last desperate attack against me.
Rather than spend any more magic on it, I decided to use the Staff of Suffering as a medium-range weapon. I stabbed the point of it through the Bograh, and it squealed, flaring red one final time before vanishing.
I took a deep breath and leaned against the nearest tree, relieved. It was really starting to sink in why things faded into nothingness whenever they were killed in WarriorWorld: With thousands of players out there slaughtering hundreds of thousands of creatures and NPCs every day – to say nothing of each other – if the bodies didn't disappear, we'd all be stepping over them every two or three paces.
Suddenly, I started to laugh. It was high-pitched, jagged, and borderline hysterical. The more I tried to hold it in, the more it spilled out uncontrollably.
I had done it.
The Bograh was (presumably) the meanest and most dangerous thing in the Valley of the Monsters, and I had vanquished it single-handedly.
“Screw you, Donal!” I yelled, holding up two middle fingers. “I did it!”
I got a grip on myself long enough to reach into my Bag of Cherishing, find a Health Potion, and swallow it down. My health meter was restored – I hadn't even realized I was blinking red until it abruptly stopped, that was how invested I'd been in the fight.
The potion reminded me to look for the Bograh's hoard of captured treasure, so I could replace some of the potions I'd used up and add to my collection of trinkets. I wandered around the piles of monster bones, looking for the stash.
What I found instead was fascinating, albeit somewhat stomach-churning.
Eggs.
A shallow pit filled with dozens of slimy-looking gelatinous eggs, each one roughly the size of a large fist. It wasn't hard to figure out what had laid them.
“So she was basically a mother guarding her nest,” I said out loud, looking down at them. “Pardon me if I don't feel a sudden swell of remorse. Well, I guess I could double-cross Erinye by just leaving them here to hatch... but somehow, I get the sense she'll show even more gratitude if I just dispose of them.”
Burning them seemed like the best way to go, and I was about to chug a Magic Potion to refill my meter and summon a powerful flame spell – when I realized that I didn't actually need to do anything that ostentatious to get rid of them.
Instead, I snapped a decent-sized branch off the nearest tree and whispered, “Tiny Tinder-Flick.”
A few sparks leaped from my fingertips, igniting the dry wood.
Before I touched it to the pile of eggs, I had an idea. I reached down, plucking one of the orbs and dropping it into my Cherishing Bag with a faint groan of disgust.
Then I thrust the torch into the pit, watching the eggs burn to cinders. I almost expected to see the embryos twitching and mewling in the flames, since the designers of this level clearly weren't above grossing out the players.
But no, everything was calm at the center of the fire.
Then I drank a Magic Potion to restore my meter and retraced my steps back to the temple... hustling a bit along the way, since the sun was growing redder and slowly descending toward the horizon.
As I reached the village of the monsters (which, now that I thought about it, sounded like it could have been the title of an old Ray Harryhausen flick), the Chameleons and Furies spotted me and began to cheer. Once I got closer, I could see Erinye among them, standing with her hands on her hips and looking impressed. Just beyond her, Quorull and Donal stood against the bars of the cage, watching my approach with astonishment.
“Welcome, victorious Syndar!” Erinye greeted me. “You have my admiration – and my gratitude – for slaying the Bograh!”
Quorull applauded, grinning from ear to ear. “Well done, Sid!”
“No way!” Donal blurted out. “Nope, uh-uh, I'm sorry, but this is all bullshit! There is no way in hell that a nobody like Sid could have defeated this big scary Bograh thing all on his own! He's just not good enough at this game to make that happen!”
"I keep telling you, Donal," I answered smugly, "this isn't a game to me anymore, it's life and death. And I, wow, did not feel like getting killed by that thing."
“He's lying!” Donal insisted. “He just wandered off for a few hours and came back without doing shit! The next time one of your ugly-ass minions goes out to the woods to take a piss, they aren't coming back! Just wait!”
“Except the Empress knows I'm not lying. She knows with absolute certainty that the Bograh is gone, and it's not coming back.” I turned to her. “Right?”
Erinye examined my face, her eyes narrowing curiously. “Yes. I am not sure how, but... I am utterly unable to disbelieve your words. I know the Bograh has been defeated.”
“And that's not all,” I went on. “After I killed it, I found a nest full of its eggs and burned them before they could hatch.”
“Okay, now you really are just making stuff up to make yourself sound cooler!” Donal squawked. “There were no 'eggs!' What a crock!”
“Again, Erinye knows I'm being one hundred percent truthful,” I said, reaching into my Bag of Cherishing. “Not only that, but I brought back proof, in the form of a gift.”
I plucked the slimy egg from the Bag, handing it to her. She took it between thumb and forefinger, marveling at it. “A Bograh egg? For me?”
“The last one,” I told her. “You can crush the thing yourself to make sure it's never born, or you can let it hatch and try to tame it so it will guard your temple. Entirely up to you. Either way, take it with my compliments.”
“This is... incredible,” Erinye said softly. “None have ever bestowed such a thing upon me. And certainly not after enduring what would have been, admittedly, a less-than-hospitable welcome from me and my subjects.”
“No hard feelings,” I answered with a smile. “To paraphrase the great Jessica Rabbit, 'You're not bad, you're just programmed that way.'”
“I know nothing of this hare you speak of, but you have my utmost respect, Sorcerer of Soggoth-Nur.” And then, unexpectedly, she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.
Good thing I'm incapable of blushing in this game, I thought.
"All right, fine, so maybe he did kill this Bograh thing!" Donal conceded, flustered. "It must have been lame as hell if he was able to overpower it! Like, I'll bet it was the size of a French poodle and about as dangerous as one, ha!"
Erinye strode over to him slowly, her fangs bared. “The beast devoured over two dozen of my subjects, mortal filth. Do you mean to imply that my minions are so easily dispatched? Would you truly insult their ruler in such a way?”
Donal let out a frustrated sigh. “That's it, I'm done. This has been, without a doubt, the dumbest and most pointless quest in the entire game.”
Quorull laughed. “You're just pissed because Sid made you look like a coward and a clown in front of all your precious 'viewers!' I'm looking at the message boards right now, and wow, they are laughing their asses off at what a pitiful prick you've turned out to be!”
“Oh my God, really?” I literally jumped up and down with glee – I couldn't help myself. “What are they saying? Tell me, tell me!”
“Get this,” Quorull giggled. “User 'EdgarRiceChurros' says, 'OMG all those cheat codes and weapons and shit, and Donal still got played!' And here's user 'TopherGraceJones' with
, 'LOL Donal is a bitch-ass, punk-ass, weak-ass...' Okay, well, I can't say that last word, but you get the idea. Oh, and here's user 'DoraThaDestroyer' offering their two cents: 'Limp-Dick Donal licks sweat off a dead dog's balls,' haha!”
Erinye smiled. “Indeed, Donal, for one who boasts of such popularity, you would seem to be the object of much scorn and ridicule!”
Donal curled his lip angrily, pointing at me. "I'm going back to a previous save point because, unlike you losers, I can. And when I catch up with you again, Sid, I promise: You are gonna regret this.”
"Yeah, go tell it to your sponsors," I jeered. "The ones who are left. Maybe you'll get really lucky, and the fine people over at Flesh-Light will keep sending you freebies, jerk-off.”
He gave me one last glare, then disappeared.
“Now then,” Erinye said briskly. “As I promised, whatever boon you request of me, I shall provide.”
“And you give your word? Whatever I ask for?”
“Ugh, Sid, you're not going to be a perv about this or anything, are you?” Quorull groaned.
“You have my word, Sorcerer,” Erinye told me. “Name it, and it will be yours.”
“Okay, in that case, I want you to answer something for me: Do you remember the knight named Donal, who was just standing here with us?”
Erinye waved a clawed hand at me impatiently. “Never mind about such things – they are of no importance to us. What is your request?”
"No, that was my request," I reminded her firmly. "That right there, that question. And you have to give me an honest answer because you swore you would. So I'll ask again, Erinye: Do you remember Donal, the guy who was just here? The one you even spoke to a few moments ago about how he wasn't as popular as he kept saying he was? Do you recall that at all?”
