Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy

by S. L. Rowland

  I focus on the image and a notification pops up.

  Congratulations, Esil! You are qualified to compete in Baja Pass. Would you like to take your position? Y/N

  I accept and the world turns to pixels around me. A few moments later, I’m behind four other people on a hilltop beside the ocean. Far ahead there is a desert, and farther still are mountains. Aleesia and Ryken wait in front of me, along with another woman and man. A pole sticks up from beside each of them, with a small flag displaying their position. There are two lines, staggered diagonally so that we aren’t right beside each other. To the sides of us, there are several stands filled to capacity. I can hear the cheers of the crowd over the commotion all around me. Behind me, contestants materialize on their mounts and fill in the empty positions.

  A timer appears in my vision and counts down from five minutes. I guess when it hits zero, the race will start.

  My map is ablaze with a rainbow of dots that indicate all of my opponents. Along the edge of it is a diamond. It’s too far away to show up on the map. That’s where we’ll be going.

  I shake my head and try to focus on everything that is happening around me. Two spots up, the princess sits on her charcoal unicorn. She turns around and waves at me.

  “Good luck!” she says.

  “You too.”

  That’s when I notice Ryken’s mount. The skeletal horse has been replaced by the nightmare from the auction. Its fiery mane and tail swish back and forth. Ryken’s presence is intimidating as he sits stoically on his horse. His black armor. Skull pauldrons. Helmet with curled horns of a ram. He doesn’t look around. His eyes are focused on what lies ahead.

  “Esil!” I hear a voice shouting my name from the stands. Buzz and Grayson sit together. They both give me thumbs up and I return the gesture.

  I look around once more, taking in the competition. The other two spots ahead of me are taken by a man on a rhinoceros and a woman riding a motorcycle. It’s the motorcycle from the auction with two guns mounted to the handle bars. I’d hate to have her on my tail. The man wears a leopard vest and black leather pants, his hair falling in a mane around his neck. He carries a spear with a bone tip in one hand. The woman wears a denim jacket. Her dreaded hair falls past her shoulders and she has a machete strapped to her back.

  Merlin sits on my shoulder, his head turning like a sprinkler as he watches everything around us.

  Behind me, there are too many to name. I see a few familiar faces. Ordin rides his pony and shoves his warhammer into the air when he sees me. Klink wrangles with her blind basilisk, which she still hasn’t tamed. Near the back, I see Jayce, our teammate from steamball, riding a mechanical horse. Steam shoots out of its ears and nostrils as it paws at the ground. Gears turn inside the massive beast’s iron legs.

  The bear from the auction is midway down the line, his armor gleaming in the sun. A tiny gnome sits atop the bear, making the beast look even larger than it already is. The gnome is clad in a dull green robe and a hawk sits on his shoulder. Does he have the same enhanced hearing and sight I do?

  I spot a griffin ridden by a woman in a white robe with a golden staff, a dozen or so horses, a lion, a camel, a giant eagle, several motorcycles, and many others. One man rides upon a small elephant; its trunk bellows loudly from the rear of the pack.

  I cringe at the spider-riding goblin. If he gets too close, I’ll be the first to take him out.

  When the timer hits three minutes, a woman riding a pegasus appears in front of us all. The white horse’s powerful wings keep it hovering in the air. When she speaks, her voice booms over everything.

  “Welcome to Baja Pass! It’s a brand-new race designed specifically for the Developer’s Tournament. I’m Nancy and I helped design some of it myself. But this race isn’t about me. It’s about you. You are here because you had the speed and cleverness to beat our first quest before everyone else, many of those sitting in the stands to both sides of you. Ninety-nine of you will be competing today. Unfortunately, one of your competitors had an out of game injury and is not able to compete. The rules are simple: finish the race. If you die, you lose. If you fall from your mount for more than thirty seconds, you will be disqualified. Both magic and technology are allowed. You are free to attack your opponents. Make it through and you advance to the next round. All third-party streams have been disabled and both viewing and recaps of the match, including live footage from every player, will be available on the official Pangea stream.”

  Just as I thought. I need to find a way to get away from everyone as quick as possible. I have a feeling the start of the race is going to be a bloodbath.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  My hands shake and my heartbeat pounds in my ears as the timer counts down from ten. I equip my shield over my shoulder, hoping it will block anything that flies my way from behind.

  The timer hits zero and a cannon blast initiates the start of the race.

  For the next few moments, everything is pure chaos. Merlin leaps off my shoulder and flies high into the air. Fenrir jumps to the side and races away from the group. Something hits me in the shoulder and my vision goes red. A tenth of my health is gone.

  I cast Haunted Earth and Mud Pits over my shoulder without looking, hoping to snare anyone who attempts to follow me.

  Gunfire and the whir of spells fill the air. I focus on getting away from the madness, but take one last look behind me.

  Shit!

  I snared the princess. I don’t know how. She was in front of me only moments before!

  An orc riding a large boar cuts her down with a stone axe. My stomach rises and I think I might vomit.

  On second glance, I realize it’s not her and breathe a sigh of relief. The dead elf hangs limp, still strapped into its silver steed. In the chaos, it is hard to tell the two elves apart.

  Lightning bolts down from the sky, sending bodies flying through the air in a violent explosion. The crack of thunder that follows is deafening. Several bodies lay scattered on the ground. Ryken stands among the crowd, unafraid. He raises his hands into the air and black smoke surrounds him. The mounts of the fallen competitors rise up and trample those who have been knocked to the ground.

  I see Ordin’s glowing warhammer just before he is overtaken by the mob.

  Ryken turns and races away, a dozen undead mounts following him.

  The dots of other players scatter across my map. A handful are in front of me. There is no official track or road for us to follow. Only an end goal. I plan to stay as far away from everyone else as I can.

  In the top of my vision, there is a counter showing my place in the race and how many competitors are left. It said 5/99 before the race started. Now I am 11/65. Several players passed me while I ran to safety. Almost a third of our competition was wiped out at the start.

  I open my messages to contact Aleesia, but they are grayed out. Obviously, the developers won’t let us communicate.

  Merlin flies high overhead, a speck against the blue sky. I can’t risk merging with him right now, but perhaps later, I can use him to get a better view of where everyone is. We’ve scattered across the land and no one is visible in my immediate vicinity on my map.

  Trails of dust float into the air up ahead. One of them must be the princess. Ryken is somewhere behind me. I’ll need to keep an eye out for him. The bastard will murder me the first opportunity he gets.

  Fenrir keeps a steady pace. The last thing I want is to tire him out early in the race. He isn’t blessed with the same stamina I have from my dwarven boots. If he gets too tired, I’ll have to wait for him to recover.

  The first leg of the race takes place beside the sea. The ground is sandy and we pass several cacti interspersed between other prickly bushes. It’s not quite a desert, but it’s close. Judging by the marker on the map we are supposed to follow, the trail we’re on leads away from the ocean, across the desert and towards the mountains. The desert will test Fenrir’s endurance the hardest, especially if there is no food or water.
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  “We got this, boy.” I run my fingers through the hair between his ears.

  Several others have dropped out of the race. I am now 10/60.

  Suddenly, we stop moving. I turn around, expecting to see someone who has snared us with a spell, but instead, empty terrain surrounds us.

  I try to make Fenrir move, but he goes nowhere. When I look down, I see his feet are stuck in the sand. He struggles to move and they sink deeper.

  Quicksand.

  Fenrir slowly sinks deeper and deeper as he struggles to free himself. His efforts to break free only cause the sand to suck us down faster. I need to calm him.

  “Easy, boy. I need you to listen. We can get out of this, but we’re going to have to remain calm. Do you understand?”

  The wolf’s struggles cease and we stop sinking. I search for anything nearby that can pull us out. I could jump off, but then I would only have thirty seconds in which to pull Fenrir free. I doubt I could do that. I don’t even have anything to pull him out with.

  I search through my inventory, looking for anything that could help.

  Exactly!

  I equip Grappler and scan the area for a place to attach to. There are no trees nearby, only a few cacti that I’m sure would snap from the weight of both Fenrir and I. My only shot is a group of boulders some twenty feet away. If I can lodge the grappling hook between them just right, it might hold while I pull us out.

  Fenrir’s hind legs are fully submerged in the sand. I shoot Grappler and the hook lands a few feet past the boulders.

  I pull the grappling hook carefully towards us. It lodges between two of the boulders and I tug it until it feels secure. Now comes the hard part. We are too heavy for the guns retractable feature to pull us both out. I have to pull us out without getting off of Fenrir.

  I clench my legs tight around him and wrap one arm around his neck. With my other hand, I grip the rope tight and pull with all my might. We move a few inches and then I wrap the rope around my hand by twisting my wrist. I do this several times and it feels like we are escaping the quicksand.

  There’s a grating sound of metal on rock and then the line goes limp. The grappling hook flies loose and comes at me like a bullet, hitting me in the head. My vision goes red for a second and then we sink a few more inches into the quicksand.

  “Dammit!” I yell, even though I know no one can hear me. Merlin has returned and sits upon a nearby cactus.

  The important thing is to focus and make sure we get out of the bind we’re in, but I can’t help but notice I’m now 40/58. We have the speed to catch up, but first we have to get out.

  I retract the grappling hook and fire again. It lands a few feet past the boulders and I pull until it seems like a snug fit.

  “Merlin, go sit on the hook.”

  Merlin hoots and then hops from the cactus to the boulder.

  “Make sure it’s in there good.”

  He looks down at the hook and then moves it a small ways to the left.

  “Good job.”

  I pull until the grappling hook is tight and try again. Inch by inch, I pull myself and Fenrir closer to the edge of the quicksand. My stamina bar hovers at one percent, never depleting, but never building back up either. My arms strain with each pull until I’m certain they will rip to shreds. My opponents continue to pass me until I’m 55/57. People keep dropping off. How many of us will make it to the next round?

  Fenrir’s muscles quiver when we reach the bank and he is able to dig his paws into the earth. He lifts us both out of quicksand and shakes out his fur. I have to hold tight to keep from falling off.

  Merlin takes flight again, my silent guardian in the sky.

  A green dot appears on my map. Someone is nearby. I equip my axe and shield and Fenrir moves in their direction.

  A small pony trudges along, slow and steady.

  “Ordin!”

  “Esil! Why are you so far back here?” he asks.

  “Never mind that, how in the hell are you alive? The last I saw of you, you were being trampled by Ryken’s undead mounts.”

  “Haven’t you learned anything? Dwarves are hard to kill. Me and Penny here barely survived, but we made it. Been trudging along ever since. To tell you the truth, I knew I never had a chance in hell of winning the race, but finishing it, that’s a different story. You best be getting along now, though. A wolf like that, you don’t belong back here with me.”

  “You sure? We could cruise on in together,” I joke.

  “That’s not your style. You’ve got something to prove whether you know it or not. I saw that since day one.”

  He’s right. I’m going to fight tooth and nail until this race is over. If there’s a chance in hell I can win, I’m gonna do it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The first person I catch up to rides a motorcycle. A crossbow is hung over her shoulder, a black bandanna covers her face, and her jet-black hair whips in the wind. A painted tiger claws out from the back of her leather jacket. She is straight out of some post-apocalyptic world.

  User: Polly. Level 49.

  Her motorcycle roars so loud that she doesn’t even hear us when Fenrir catches up to her. A swift swing of my axe depletes half her health and knocks her to the ground. The motorcycle keeps rolling until it hits a rock and flips end over end.

  Polly stands up, cursing and waving her hands. She pulls her crossbow and aims it at me. The bolt fires with a crack and darts by, only inches from my head. She’s a much easier target now that she’s on the ground. I cast Haunted Earth, rooting her in place. Waterfall takes care of the rest. 54/56.

  From here on out, if they’re not my friend, they’re my enemy. Every person I let slip by into the next round is another threat down the road. I’m not going to let Buzz’s mother die because I played it nice. Game on.

  I pass several other players over the next hour. Most are far enough away that it would cost more time to chase them down than if I just keep riding ahead. However, I do catch a level fifty-six paladin riding a warhorse. He puts up a good fight, healing himself and damaging me to fifty percent health, but in the end, I am too much for him. 47/55.

  The oceanside terrain gradually turns to desert. Plant life is sparse and eventually, even the cacti die out. It becomes a sandy wasteland. The sun bears down from overhead, causing Fenrir’s stamina to wane. I lower his speed just a tad and he keeps his stamina steady.

  I pass a gravestone sticking out of the sand, reminding me that I’m not the only one playing for keeps.

  Sand and dust fill the air up ahead. Three people are engaged in combat. An eagle soars through the air, its rider shooting arrows at whoever is on the ground. As I get closer, the dark figures on the ground become clearer. A dark-skinned man with dreads rides a lion. He tosses spears at the other rider.

  A large lizard thrashes about in the sand.

  Klink!

  The lion and the eagle are teaming up to take her down. I urge Fenrir to go faster and we race across the sand. By the time I arrive, Klink is down to a quarter of health. Blood drips from both her and the basilisk, turning the sand copper. I switch to my spear and throw it with as much force as I can muster. A direct hit in the lion rider’s back causes him to fall from his mount. Klink climbs off the basilisk, her twin warhammers glowing red. I let her have her vengeance and focus on the eagle overhead.

  The woman rider swoops down, firing a volley of arrows in my direction. One hits Fenrir in the leg, causing him to yelp.

  I show the woman a gesture with my hand and switch to Grappler. I fire off a few laser beams in her direction and she soars higher in the air. With her out of the picture for a moment, I turn to help Klink. She and the dreaded man are both down to about ten percent health. They need to get on their mounts soon or they will be disqualified.

  One of my laser beams hits the dreaded man in the back. I equip Grappler in my left hand and my axe in my right. Fenrir pounces next to the man and I slash down between his neck and shoulder, ripping him apart. H
e falls to the ground and my XP bar levels up. A metallic orange twenty-three flashes across my vision.

  Klink’s basilisk has run off into the desert.

  “Grab my hand,” I say. “I’m going to toss you.”

  She extends her arm as I ride by. Our hands clench together and I rocket her through the air towards the basilisk. She lands on its back and the beast thrashes even harder.

  “Made it!” she bellows, a smile on her face.

  The smile fades into a grimace and she falls off her mount, an arrow protruding from her back.

  “No!” I scream. She killed my friend!

  Anger flares through me as the eagle swoops down in my direction.

  I search for Merlin and tell him without words to go for her eyes.

  The eagle swoops towards me, and his talons dig into my shoulders. Red paints the edge of my vision and a timer counts down in large numbers, telling me how long I have until I’m disqualified. I slash at the eagle with my axe and he drops me.

  As I fall through the air, I see Merlin clawing at the rider’s face. I fire the grappling hook and it wraps around the eagle’s neck. My weight takes away its balance and we both tumble towards the ground.

  I hit the sand with a thud, and my vision goes red again. Twenty seconds until I’m disqualified.

  The eagle regains its balance and pulls at the rope cinched around its neck.

  Fenrir runs towards me out of the corner of my eye.

  I take the rope in my hands and begin pulling hard. The eagle is strong, but it can’t match my strength. The woman can’t aim at me because I am directly beneath her. Foot by foot, I pull the eagle closer to the ground.

  Ten seconds.

  Five.

  Fenrir comes to a stop beside me and I climb on his back. I urge him to go in the opposite direction the eagle is facing. I grab hold of the saddle with one hand and hold the rope with the other. He jumps hard and the motion pulls the eagle from the air, turning it upside-down, and slams both the bird and rider hard into the sand. Haunted Earth roots the woman to the ground. Three swings of my axe later and she moves no more. 45/50.