Fantasy Online_Hyperborea

by Harmon Cooper

  “Let me see … ” FeeTwix scrolls through his list, equips an air horn, and holds it above his head. “Just something I picked up at one of those back alley weapon sellers in Jatla. They have tons of schwag!” FeeTwix admires the air horn and briefly shows it to his audience. “Supposedly, it attracts enemies. Let’s try it out.”

  The horn lets loose a tremendous WHO-O-O-N-K and Hiccup nearly jumps out of his ill-fitting armor.

  “Fickin’ fickered ficktwat! Give me a warning next time, why don’t ya!?”

  The ground rumbles as a creature smashes out of the misty surroundings, stomps its feet, and points a long staff at the three Mitherfickers. Its stats appear:

  Tuskarr Level 9

  HP: 220/220

  MANA: 56/56

  ATK: 38

  MATK: 73

  DEF: 5

  MDF: 31

  LUCK: 4

  The tusks of the aeros-sized humanoid walrus are coveted for their magical properties, and Ryuk wonders why it’s here, so far away from water. The creature gives its staff a menacing twirl and shoots the three its surliest, most cantankerous scowl.

  “Wait!” Hiccup puts his hand up. “Let’s make sure he isn’t a friendly.”

  The Goblin plasters on his biggest, fakest grin and walks up, hands empty. “Heya, pal, just checking to see if you’re really up to this. I like you, Tusky, really I do. I had a friend who was a Tuskarr; boy could that big ficker throw back the Horse Piss. And he was generous, jeezly fick was he generous. All this to say, there’s something about your big yellow eyes, the white mustache that hangs over your tusks that reminds me of my friend.” Hiccup sniffles. “Go! Go! TWIXY, GO! MARBLES, GO! FICKIN’ KILL THE FICKER!”

  Ryuk looses a combo of clear and black marbles. The black marble explodes with minimal effect; the clear marble hits and a tremendous stone block drops onto the tuskarr’s head and crumbles into sand.

  -49 HP!

  The anthropomorphic walrus twists his staff and zaps Hiccup with a beam of orange and yellow light.

  “Yoy!” Hiccup’s eyes roll into the back of his head; he froths at the mouth, shivers and twitches.

  “Oh shit … ” FeeTwix lifts his hand and scrolls through his list. “Hiccup’s turned!”

  The now-frothing goblin charges; FeeTwix flips the temporary turncoat facedown.

  The Swede places his knee on the back of Hiccup’s neck as he equips heavy duty flex-cuffs and secures the goblin’s paws behind his back. “That’ll hold him,” he announces to his audience as he removes knee from neck and straightens up.

  With the speed of a striking cobra, Hiccup pivots on his round little goblin belly, sinks his blunt yellow teeth into FeeTwix’s ankle and drags him to the ground.

  “Dammit!”

  As his two teammates roll around, Ryuk lobs two black marbles at the tuskarr’s feet for a little distraction action, zigzags to the left, and lets go with another clear marble.

  The wild card marble surprises him yet again as the Great Wave of Kanagawa levels the tuskarr, swooshing the creature away as the magnificent waves wash over him.

  -15 HP!

  Ryuk aims two black marbles at the spot where the tuskarr should be and …

  He glances left and right – no tuskarr. FeeTwix and the still flexi-cuffed Hiccup are mud-wrestling in the wave’s residue, but that’s about it.

  Ryuk’s life bar flashes: -6 HP!

  The tuskarr appears to his left; his four-fingered hand strokes the air as he casts his spell.

  DisNike Vader™ choke!

  A sponsored attack? Ryuk instinctively raises his free hand to his throat as an invisible force squeezes his neck. -7 HP! With no other option, Choking Ryuk palms a clear marble, pulls back on his slingshot, and looses it at the Tuskarr.

  The creature’s spell-casting hand explodes with a purpley-green flash. -96 HP! The pressure on his neck immediately subsides.

  FeeTwix finally gets his ankle out from between Hiccup’s gnashers.

  He rolls out of the mud and equips a heavy wool blanket, tosses it over Uncle Goblin, and rolls him up like a dog meat street burrito. After a couple of wraps of hot pink duct tape to keep him secure, FeeTwix places one foot on the struggling, bound goblin, shoots Ryuk a grin, and rolls him away.

  “Fick you, you fickin’ fickers! Fickery! Fick-faced fick bags!” Like some vulgar goblin tamale, Hiccup continues to scream and curse from within the wooly depths.

  The tuskarr snuffles and moans; he’s on his knees and clenches the stump of his wrist with his other hand.

  Ryuk: I’ll finish him off.

  FeeTwix: Have at it!

  Ryuk places a black marble in the slingshot’s pouch, draws and aims. The tuskarr’s features run like water, swirl, and coalesce into the face of the Thulean who attacked him in his room, in the real world. He pauses and the creature’s face swirls again; now it wears his brother’s face.

  “Kodai?”

  It can’t be. He shakes his head, steadies his gaze, and pulls back even harder on his magic slingshot. Fury rolls over him as he looses the marble.

  Instakill!

  The tuskarr falls over, lets out a prolonged gasp, and dies. Experience points are awarded, hundreds of them, and a healing potion appears on the ground. The tuskarr’s staff floats in the air, upheld by a halo of shimmering light.

  (0)__(X)

  “Sweet!” FeeTwix makes a beeline towards the staff, grabs it, runs his hand along its contours, spins it three times, and puts it in his inventory list. “I’ve been needing a good shaman staff.”

  “How many items do you have in your inventory list anyway?” Ryuk asks.

  “A lot.” His finger comes up and he scrolls through his list. “Approaching three hundred as we speak, but I try not to brag about the items I have, and I’ve got no problem letting them go if they’re taking up space. There’s no sense in having shit that I’ll never use. My list has been upwards of six hundred items before.”

  “Will you fickers quit comparing list sizes and get me the fick out of this carpet!” Hiccup wiggles and thrashes and rolls himself back into the mud puddle. “YOY!” he splutters, “Dammit! Someone get me out of here!”

  FeeTwix shows Ryuk a poll of his audience.

  “They think it’d be funnier if we keep him in the blanket for a while and just log-roll him anywhere we plan to go.”

  Ryuk offers FeeTwix a rare smile. “That would be funny.”

  A mirror appears in FeeTwix’s hand and he speaks to his reflection. “Sorry, everyone, Hiccup is a guild-mate and you just don’t do a guild-mate like that.”

  “Damn straight!” The goblin barks.

  FeeTwix drags the blanketed Goblin out of the mud and cuts the tape. Ryuk helps him unroll Hiccup, who’s seething with disgruntlement. FeeTwix produces an ornate pair of solid gold diagonal cutters and frees Hiccup’s wrists.

  Hiccup pulls himself to his feet, turns to Ryuk and clenches his fists at his sides. “PTSG is a real thing, you fickin’ fickwads, and you got one right here – a Pissed off, Tired, Stressed out Goblin. Kick me in the mouth, zip-tie my hands, roll me in a carpet … ”

  “Blanket.” FeeTwix interrupts.

  “ … blanket, and drown me in a mud puddle. I call that the Genghis Goblin treatment! Ever heard of that guy? He used to roll people up in carpets and have them beaten to death.”

  “Why carpets?” asks FeeTwix.

  “Because it was less bloody that way. He was a real hemophobe. He sent his harem to Polynya whenever they were visited by the red horse. But even he wouldn’t have rolled me into a mud puddle to drown!”

  “Trust me, Hiccup, we didn’t do that to you,” FeeTwix explains, “you did that to yourself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and I suppose it is my fault that the tuskarr bewitched me and the sun was orange this morning and the only ficker I could recruit for our fickin’ guild was a vain Swedish videophile with a bunch of voyeuristic, fanboy cellar dwellers for followers. Let me see, what else? Oh, and I suppose it
is my fault that Tammy was captured and we’re out here leveling up when I should be sleeping because just like hobbits – and fick those guys, by the way – goblins need several naps a day. Somehow, all of this is my fault.”

  Ryuk clears his throat. “Actually, most of what you just said is indeed your fault.”

  “Like fick it is, Marbles!”

  FeeTwix claps his hands together and his eyes flash back to their normal color of blue. “Before we continue, I must tell you that my audience just loves you! It’s like the more outrageous you are, the more they like you.” FeeTwix laughs. “It’s very, very odd. You should run for Overlord of Public Sanitation the next Tritanian election cycle. You’d make a great politician!”

  “Whatever, Twixy.”

  The Swede’s eyes turn black again. “Okay, back on, say something funny.”

  “I’m not some sort of one trick fickin’ pony and you’re not the boss of me!” Hiccup eyes the tuskarr’s corpse, equips a cleaver, and drops to his haunches. He quickly hacks at the creature’s dental appendages with all the finesse of a Rwandan rhino horn poacher and makes a revolting, bloody mess of it.

  “So whaddya think?” He grins and holds the tusks up in front of his mouth, waggles them at FeeTwix, and then adds them to his inventory.

  What was that? Movement near an abandoned cathedral about ten meters away catches Ryuk’s attention.

  A dark shadow appears on the side of the cathedral; it sinks into the ground, leaving an ink-like stain on the soil. Ryuk has a black marble on the way faster than he can think about it.

  The explosion is fiery, satisfying even.

  “Cripes!” Hiccup jumps backwards and tosses his ax to the ground. “What the fick are you shooting at?” He asks as he grabs his ax and the tusks.

  “There’s an ink shadow over there,” Ryuk says.

  FeeTwix equips an industrial-sized can of medical freeze spray. “This will work, right?”

  Ryuk shrugs. His slingshot is aimed in front of him; a pair of clear marbles now rest in its pocket. “I’ve only seen mind and ice magic work against the higher level ink shadows.”

  “Ink shadows are bad luck,” Hiccup says, his face wrought with worry, “really bad luck, fellas. My brother got bit in the chalupa by a dyckbyter snayke after seeing an ink shadow in his garden. He still walks with a limp!” He wipes his bloodied hands on his pant legs.

  Ryuk steps in front of him. “Just stay behind us and we’ll take care of it.”

  The three motley Mitherfickers approach the cathedral, Ryuk scanning right and FeeTwix scanning left. The cathedrals of Tritania are the only places to initially select and later change classes, although changing one’s class can require months of paperwork, another reason some simply become resetters.

  A private message appears on Ryuk’s vision pane.

  FeeTwix: Hey, my audience is telling me to use Hiccup to bait the ink shadow. Apparently, they like teasing goblins.

  Ryuk: There must be some other way. I really don’t want to hear Hiccup’s bullshit after we suggest using him as bait.

  FeeTwix: True. Let me check.

  Ryuk watches as the ink shadow slithers from the ground to the roof of the cathedral. For some reason, it’s not engaging them.

  FeeTwix: My peeps got nothing. Not much is known about ink shadows other than they love to gamble and they generally dislike goblins.

  Ryuk and FeeTwix lock eyes, or better, Ryuk locks eyes with FeeTwix’s legions of followers. “Do you have any games in your list?” he asks loudly. “Specifically gambling games?”

  The ink shadow perks up and slowly turns its head to them.

  Hiccup tugs on Ryuk’s shirt. “What in the hell are you going on about? You’re supposed to be protecting me!”

  “Why is it that ink shadows hate goblins?” Ryuk asks under his breath. “Remind me, I forget.”

  Hiccup clears his throat. “Because we’re better gamblers than a bunch of fickin’ fart clouds!”

  “Did someone say something about gambling?” The ink shadow boils up from the soil and presents itself to the three Mitherfickers.

  “You heard me!” A hand ax appears in Hiccup’s grip. “You want a piece of me, come and take it!”

  The blob of animate darkness looks from Hiccup to Ryuk for a moment and finally speaks in a low, melodic voice. “Did I hear, ahem, the goblin say something about gambling?”

  “I said it, meant it too!”

  FeeTwix steps in front of Hiccup to hold him back.

  “Interesting,” the ink shadow lifts a tendril of inky blackness and strokes the place where its chin should be. “In that case, would you be willing to make a wager?”

  “Would we be willing … Ryuk! Blast the crap out of this guy and let’s get on with it!”

  “If you win, I’ll grant each of you a level.”

  Ryuk speaks up. “You can’t just grant each of us a level.”

  “Yes, in fact I can.”

  The ink shadow’s stats appear:

  Ink Shadow Level 49

  HP: 851/851

  MANA: 367/367

  ATK: 254

  MATK: 335

  DEF: 256

  MDF: 293

  LUCK: 47

  “You’re level 49?” Ryuk asks. “What are you doing here?”

  “I grew bored so I figured I would stop by my old home.”

  “You used to live here?”

  The ink shadow nods. “Yes, The Paradise of the Insane, as it’s called, used to be known as simply ‘The Paradise.’ You let in a few too many ink shadows and everyone goes insane.”

  Hiccup grumbles a string of curses about the species.

  “Now me, I’m not the spooking type, but I do like to play games, especially high stakes games. So, if you win, I will let you destroy me. All of you are at pathetically low levels and you’ll benefit from the experience that you’ll reap from besting me.”

  “And if we lose?” Ryuk asks.

  “What do you have that I want?” The ink shadow seeps into the ground and comes up directly in front of Ryuk. At this range, Ryuk almost can see the outline of an old man’s face. “Nothing,” the ink shadow says.

  The ink shadow moves to Hiccup, who immediately looks away, shivering with fright. “Nothing.” He stops in front of FeeTwix. After examining him for a moment he says, “Something.”

  “So you want something from my list?”

  “I do.”

  “And what would that be?”

  The ink shadow shakes its head. “If I tell you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise. So what do you say?”

  “It’s up to you,” Ryuk tells FeeTwix, “it’s your list.”

  “We’ll do it,” FeeTwix says proudly.

  “What?” Hiccup stomps his feet. “Are you fickin’ kidding me?”

  FeeTwix steps back and puts his arm around Hiccup’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, goblin friend. You said you were a better gambler than he is, so I’m betting on you.”

  A prompt appears before Ryuk:

  Challenge: Will you engage in a game of chance with the ink shadow?

  Rewards: A shit-ton of experience.

  Risks: FeeTwix will lose an unspecified item from his inventory list.

  Ryuk glances at FeeTwix, who gives him the go ahead. He presses his finger down onto the “accept” button.

  Chapter 8: Natty Dread

  The cathedral door silently swings open, and a breeze whips out of the cavernous interior, bringing with it the scent of arsenic and old lace. The ink shadow sinks into the earth and reappears in front of the open doorway.

  “Shall we begin?” he asks in a syrupy voice.

  A mirror appears in FeeTwix’s hand as he leads the way. He quickly updates his audience about his current decision-making process as Ryuk hangs back. Hiccup is a spiky ball of angsty nerves, equally pissed off at the ink shadow and spooked by the abandoned cathedral.

  “There could be ghosts in there,” he grumbles, “and boy, do I fickin’ hate ghosts.” />
  “So what if there are? We can battle them, no problem,” Ryuk assures him.

  “Easy for you to say, Mr. Big Resetter who’s been to all three continents and has vanquished enemies big and small. Ooh-ahh, Mr. Big Balls over here thinks he’s got a third leg up on the supernatural! Must be nice; must be nice to be so confident about the unknown.”

  The mention of his previous travels calls to mind a vision of Tamana, back when she was a level 96 White Mystic. Ryuk had been on the brink of death so many times only to see Tamana hovering over him, her hands radiant white as she healed him, as she saved him – something he couldn’t do for her.

  He suddenly feels cold; he suddenly feels helpless and useless and empty, as if Tamana’s death also took part of his life. He pushes the memory away as he enters the derelict cathedral.

  The pews inside the cathedral have been arranged in a circular pattern, facing inward, and the stained glass depiction of a famous Tritanian deity who oversees all three floating continents is the only source of illumination in the darkened former house of worship.

  “Now where is it … ” The ink shadow scratches the place where his chin should be for a moment. “That’s right!”

  The ground shakes and the wooden floor of the cathedral gives way as a vertically positioned disk the size of a monster truck tire rises from the ground. Its outer edge is marked in a repeating pattern of different images – a death’s head, question mark, broken leg bone, crossed swords, and ‘spin again.’

  “Natty Dread?” Hiccup shakes his fist at the ink shadow. “You got some fickin’ nerve challenging me to a game of Natty Dread!”

  The ink shadow seems genuinely hurt. “It was that or Buffalo Soldier, and I figured this would be more to your taste.”

  FeeTwix scoots up next to Ryuk. “Am I missing something here? What exactly is Natty Dread?”

  “It’s a game that originated in the city of Naklin on the continent of Polynya. You roll dice, and if you get an odd number, you spin the Wheel of Dread. If you get an even number, you’re good to go – no spin necessary.”

  “And let me guess, each item on the Wheel of Dread is trouble in some way?”