DEF: 467
MDF: 389
LUCK: 31
He’s level fifty, so that means enemies will be harder, but we’ll also have Oric and Wolf to help out for the toughest battles. Ryuk remembers what Lothar said about the battle ahead being especially tough. “We could actually use you there.”
Spoon in his mouth, Hiccup counts the Mitherfickers up. “Twixy, Liz, Wolfy, Elfie, He-Man, Marbles, Uncle Goblin. Fick me, seven is my lucky number!”
Enway, who has just brought a bowl of soup to Zaena, laughs. “Seven is everyone’s lucky number.”
“Alternative fact. Goblins hate the number seven. Notice there were no seven-story buildings in Jatla?”
Ryuk shakes his head. “I noticed there were no four-story buildings in Jatla.”
“Four is also an unlucky number. Point is, kiddos, most goblins don’t like the number seven, those superstitious fickers. Me? No problem with the number seven. I don’t like the number six, though.”
So, goblins that don’t like the number seven are superstitious, but a goblin who doesn’t like the number six isn’t? Ryuk sighs. Goblin logic.
Oric nods to Ryuk. “Come, I want to show you something.”
“Don’t you want some soup, Ryuk?” Enway asks.
“I’ll have his if he ain’t eating.” Hiccup finishes his bowl and is just about to toss it over his shoulder when Zaena gives him a dirty look. “Fine, I’ll behave.”
“I’ll have it in just a moment,” Ryuk says. “After, let’s get to Waringtla and regroup with FeeTwix and Wolf.”
Zaena smiles at the mention of FeeTwix’s name. “Sounds good.”
(0)__(0)
“He’s huge now,” Ryuk says as he takes in Yangu. Now bigger than Wolf, the snow dragon is easily big enough for a single person to ride. How he has grown so fast is beyond the Ballistics Mage. He knew they were supposed to mature quickly, and even though he was aware that it would only take a few in-game days, he’s still shocked to see Yangu so large.
“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome.” Oric drops to his knees and the snow dragon comes running over to him.
Yangu stops when he sees Ryuk, and goes to the Ballistics Mage instead.
“Ah, I figured you bonded with him.”
“I did.” Ryuk places his hand on Yangu’s snout. The snow dragon’s scales are icy cold, his eyes as red as Enway’s. As Ryuk touches his face, Yangu makes a purring sound in his chest.
“They grow so quickly here in Tritania, unnaturally so,” says Oric. “He should be able to speak to you in a day or so.”
“Was it different in Unigaea?”
“It was, but that’s neither here nor there.” A grimace spreads across the Unigaean’s face.
“I see.”
“There are a couple things I wanted to discuss with you. First, I see that Enway has taken on the powers of an Hourglass Mage.”
“Lothar said you had some experience with this. Is it dangerous?”
Oric smiles and Ryuk swears he sees something flash across his eyes. “It is, but the power has been stripped of some of its potential here, and rightfully so.”
“I think Lothar said that some of the pages had been taken out of her Book of Time.”
Yangu falls onto his side and rolls over, letting Ryuk touch his soft belly.
“Yes, some pages have been removed.” Oric smiles grimly. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me and my relationship with that book. Let’s just say that, at least for now, it’s better to not have access to all the spells. Now onto my second question: what is your guild’s, or should I say our guild’s, fighting style?”
“Fighting style?” Ryuk bites his lip as he thinks of a way to describe it.
“How does everyone fight?”
“Well, Zaena uses her swords. She has four swords. I’d say she’s our tank, even if Hiccup is better armored.”
“Right, she’s Thulean. And Enway is an Hourglass Mage, so I know what she’s capable of. What about the Swedish one?”
“FeeTwix has an endless inventory list. He uses firearms a lot and drinks potions to cover the damage penalty. Sometimes, he does ad reads during combat. Um, what else? His list can be pretty helpful because he has a lot of different items, not just guns.”
“Interesting. And Hiccup?”
Ryuk thinks for a moment as to how he could describe Hiccup’s fighting style. “He uses shields and axes. He is kind of our wildcard. If someone needs to be sent in as bait, or we need someone to come in for a rogue-like knife in the back, that’s Hiccup. He’s also our laziest member yet, for some reason, he seems to save the day quite a bit.”
“And you?”
“I shoot marbles.” Ryuk clears his throat. “Let me rephrase: I am a Ballistics Mage. My first weapon was a slingshot. One of FeeTwix’s fans made me a Marble Gun, and Dirty Dave recently gave me a Marble Shotgun.” Ryuk equips the shotgun and proudly shows Oric how it works.
“And your marble types? I am assuming there are types.”
“I have explosive marbles, molten lava marbles, aqua marbles, gravity marbles, sword marbles, and clear marbles, which are wildcards.”
“Like Hiccup?”
“Yes, unpredictable.”
“Show me the sword marble.”
Ryuk’s Marble Shotgun pixelates out of existence and he takes his slingshot off his belt. He places the gray sword marble in the slingshot.
As he pulls back on the pocket, a sword stretches into existence.
Thwhip!
The sword digs into Enway’s fence, startling Yangu. The snow dragon’s natural response is to coat the sword with a sheet of ice.
“Damn,” Oric says. “That was impressive.”
“The dragon or the marble?”
“Both. I don’t think Yangu is going to stay this size for long. He could come in handy in the Sabors…”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?” Ryuk asks, his eyebrow raising.
Oric nods, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s bring him too.”
.19. Swords at Play
The Mitherfickers, along with Oric and Yangu, spawn in Waringtla. If the passing giants are fazed by seeing such a motley crew, none of them say anything about it. Most are either on their way to work, to travel, or returning home to Waringtla. The richer giants have people carrying their bags, the poorer ones carry their bags themselves.
“Just goes to show you that classism is a giant issue. Ha! Like what I did there? Also, Snowballs is mine to ride, Ryuk. When he’s bigger, you can saddle up next to me, but no fickery.”
“Hiccup, no one said you could ride anything.”
“That’s why I’m calling dibs. And really, think about it. Zaena is too tall to ride, plus she’s half lizard so that’s some sort of species abuse.”
“Thuleans ride dragons, goblin.”
“And she’s racist, and a young and moldable mind like the one Snowballs has doesn’t need to deal with that bullshit. Besides, you shouldn’t ride him because you need the exercise.”
Ryuk shakes his head. “I need the exercise?”
“Marbles, you’re never going to bulk up like Conan over here if you don’t put the time in.” Hiccup waddles over to Yangu. He blows some snot into his hands, flicks it out, and places the same hand on the dragon’s neck. “Don’t worry, boy, it’s just you and me. Ignore these fickers.”
“And why can’t I ride it?” Enway asks.
“Because you’re a high elf. High elves are too hoity toity to ride dragons. Have some self-respect. Okay, Snowballs, drop a little so your elder can hop on.”
“Hiccup, we only have to walk like fifty meters to get to our airship.”
“Marbles, let me have my fun.”
The dragon responds to Hiccup’s command, and soon, the only thing keeping the goblin’s lemon pepper diffuser away from Yangu’s upper back is a thin layer of fabric.
FeeTwix and Wolf spawn. “Fick! We got a dragon everybody! Looking good on there, Hicc
up. The Fickers are going to love this.”
“Want me to pose?”
“Do it!” the Swede says, his eyes black as a starless night.
While Hiccup poses, Wolf quickly makes his way over to Oric.
The two greet each other, and Ryuk notices a deep, genuine smile spread across Oric’s face. The warrior drops to one knee next to his canine companion and begins stroking the fur on the side of his neck.
“Get a room, you two!” Hiccup calls over to them. “Now, Snowballs, to the airship!”
The ice dragon turns to the airships just as Zaena approaches him from the right. The Thulean makes a cooing sound and Yangu responds.
“Liz, quit distracting him with your cookie monster talk.”
“We’re not going to be able to take him on,” Enway says, pulling Ryuk aside.
“Trust me, we’ll get it on,” Oric assures her. “Service animal, works every time.”
“For a dragon?” FeeTwix asks skeptically. “I mean, maybe a pug or possibly a Yorkshire terrier, but a dragon?”
“Just say the goblin has a mental disorder and the dragon makes him feel better.” Oric thinks for a moment. “Or better, that it stops him from lashing out.”
Ryuk laughs. “I don’t think anyone will believe that.”
“Just trust me,” Oric says, turning towards the ships. “Someone booked a ship for us, right?”
The Mitherfickers exchange glances. Enway finally says, “Really, guys? No one?”
“I was busy shooting my guns,” FeeTwix says. “Also, one of my fans just won big league! She actually guessed how many times Hiccup said ‘fick’ yesterday. Congrats Ciayraa J.P.!”
“Oh, what the fick ever, Twixy. I hardly use that word. And what kind of name is J.P. anyway?”
“Those are called initials, Hiccup!”
“I thought you or Ryuk would be booking the tickets,” the Thulean princess tells FeeTwix, interrupting the goblin just as he was about to start up a rant.
Ryuk shrugs. “That was the last thing on my mind.”
“What was the first thing?” Hiccup asks.
“Helping you get revenge on Og.”
The goblin chortles. “That’s right! Fick would I like to be a fly on the wall when all those one percenters dig into their dessert tomorrow and light each other on fire.”
“What?” Oric asks, an eyebrow raising.
“Long story, that I’ll gladly tell you on the airship over to the Sabors. Now, who the fick has the tickets? Because I sure as fick don’t, and Snowballs here can’t speak yet, so he doesn’t.”
Wolf barks.
Wolf has the tickets? Ryuk looks at the big black beast just as a small envelope materializes in his maw.
“You’ve got to be fickin’ kidding me.”
Oric takes the envelope from Wolf’s mouth. It is surprisingly not very wet. “It’s from Lothar.”
“And it has the tickets?” Zaena asks.
“It does, six to be exact.”
“How the hell does a dog have an inventory list?” FeeTwix asks.
“If anyone knows,” says Oric, “it’s Lothar.”
“Six tickets, eh? That’s a bad number right there.” Hiccup shudders. “And what about Snowballs and Wolfballs?”
“Service animals, like I said.” Oric tucks the envelope down the front of his armor. He’s worn the same leather armor since Ryuk first met him. It’s high quality, but it doesn’t look like it would protect him much. “Trust me on the service animals part. Just play along. Wait, you know what? Just be yourself. I’ll handle it from there.”
(0)__(0)
Oric indeed handles the situation once they reach the ticket gate. With a terrible cough, he explains that he has a bond with the wolf and it’s the only thing keeping him alive, that they’re going to visit a shaman in the Sabors who can cure him. He then explains that the snow dragon is Hiccup’s comfort pet, that he gets really grouchy if Yangu isn’t around.
“That seems feasible,” the giant at the ticket counter says. He is heavy-set with a soul patch that he’s shaped into a pretty wicked spike. “You may all pass.”
“Fick yeah,” Hiccup whispers.
Because of the size of Wolf and Yangu, the Mitherfickers are told that they need to stay on the main deck. Ryuk would be fine with this if it weren’t for the fact that they are heading to the northeastern quadrant of Polynya, where it is much colder than the southern half.
As the airship lifts into the air, he can feel the bitter cold of the northern slopes descending upon them.
Not that he hasn’t felt this kind of cold before – there are parts of Ultima Thule that are even colder than this – but it’s the humidity that makes it feel ten degrees colder.
Even now, as the rudders of the airship flap and the captain calls out for the masts to change direction, Ryuk can feel his chattering teeth as the sharp cold cuts into his bones.
“Marbles is turning blue. Who has a jacket?” asks Hiccup, who now sits on an overturned bucket next to Yangu.
FeeTwix, already in a parka, albeit sleeveless, raises his hand. One pixel-ly flash later and he holds a thick, white, fur-lined jacket. “How’s this?” He tosses the jacket to Ryuk and the Ballistics Mage readily puts it on.
“Better,” he says, still shivering.
Zaena now wears a robe, the neck of which is lined with a shiny, sable-like fur. Enway also has a parka, off white and form fitting.
“Yep, it’s going to be cold,” Oric says, going for a lavender cloak.
“Ha!” Hiccup points at the warrior’s long cloak. “Never thought of you as a purple guy.”
“Laugh all you want, goblin. I’ll be warm while you’ll be freezing your ass off.”
“My ass is just fine, thank-you-very-much. And I don’t need a jacket like you poofters. I have natural warmth.” He touches his considerable girth. “Although my head is getting a little cold.” He tries a gold helm but realizes quickly that this won’t help. “Got any cool warm hats, FeeTwix?”
“I have a balaclava.”
“A what? Keep the fickery to a minimum please, I’m looking for something warm.”
FeeTwix shows Hiccup the balaclava, black with holes where the eyes, nose, and mouth should be.
“Oh, that’s a balaclava!”
“You should know what it is, goblin. It is your nickname for Aiden.”
“Who?” he asks Zaena. “Oh, you mean the Knight’s ninja man? Fick, I don’t remember calling him that. At any rate, hand that shit over.”
Hiccup, still on an overturned bucket, puts the balaclava on and stretches it out in the process. “Nice, keeps my nose warm too.”
“So, what’s the plan when we get in the Sabors?” Ryuk asks, taking the lead.
Oric is the first to answer. “I’m assuming we will have to fight our way to the person who holds the runestone.”
“Skadi,” Enway says, “at least that is what Lothar told us.”
“If Lothar told you this, it is true. He is rarely wrong,” Oric says solemnly. “I’ve already discussed fighting strategy with Ryuk.”
“Have you?” Zaena asks.
“Yes, and I’m aware of your fighting styles.”
“And what’s your style?” she asks, her eyes narrowing as she looks him over.
“Similar to yours. I’ll go in front for maximum advantage. My weapon is short.” He brandishes his buster sword, the tip of which is broken into three distinct peaks.
“That’s right, it’s broken.”
“It is,” he says as he admires the blade, “and I’ve purposefully kept it this way.”
Zaena looks at him suspiciously. “That seems like a terrible idea.”
“Do you want to see it in action?” he asks, not a hint of animosity in his voice.
A snarl now on her face, Zaena brandishes two blades, the schwing of which nearly causes Hiccup to hop off his stool. “Shit! You two are going at it? Damn, this is going to be fickin’ tighter than a Jatlan chalupa trap. Twix, I g
ot fickin’ fifty thousand rupees on Liz. Marbles, popcorn, now.”
“Relax, Hiccup, they’re not actually going to fight each other...are they?” The Swede eyes Zaena suspiciously.
The Thulean drops into a battle stance, and using a move Ryuk has seen her do countless times, she propels her body forward with her ghost limbs. She comes down hard with both blades.
Much to her surprise, Oric manages to catch them both in the grooves of his buster sword.
“Ha!” Zaena kicks off his chest, but the warrior from Unigaea holds his ground. His legs spread wide, he gets into a defensive position, awaiting Zaena’s next move.
“Kick his chiseled ass, Liz!”
Chiseled ass? Ryuk shakes his head.
“I’m glad to see the guild has warmed up to me. Are we finished here yet?” Oric asks, breathing heavily now.
Two more blades appear in the air above Zaena, held by her invisible ghost limbs.
“I guess not,” Oric says, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.
“Easy, Babe!” FeeTwix says as the Thulean warrior princess spins into action.
Zaena performs an aerial blade attack which Oric swipes down as if she were a fly.
She flies backwards and is caught by FeeTwix, who takes a good bit of damage from one of her blades.
“Shit just got real!” Hiccup cracks up. “Marbles, popcorn, pronto.”
“Shut up, Hiccup!”
Hiccup looks to Wolf, and Ryuk swears a grin spreads on Wolf’s face.
Not you too, he thinks as Zaena springs back into action, this time going for a series of quick thrusts to distract from the fact that she’s trying to use her ghost limbs to stab Oric from behind.
With little effort, Oric swings wide to knock her first blades aside; he follows his blade around to take out the ones now descending upon him from behind.
His strike connects and Zaena actually loses one of her blades, the first time Ryuk can recall seeing this happen.
She curses in Thulean as she backflips away.
“Everyone should bring it down a notch,” Enway says.
“Like fick they should. We want blood! We want blood!”
The fact that this is happening on the deck of an airship doesn’t seem to bother the Thulean. While some patrons have gathered to watch the fight from the upper deck, most ignore the clink and clank of the swords.
Fantasy Online_The Runestones of Tritinakh Page 20
