Fantasy Online_Hyperborea

by Harmon Cooper

  The door opens wide, but no one stands in the doorway. FeeTwix’s blonde hair ruffles seemingly on its own. “Oh, behave!” he calls over his shoulder.

  Ryuk switches to messaging.

  Ryuk: You do realize that Thuleans mate for life with one partner exclusively, and you’ve become that one partner, don’t you? Further, most older Thuleans are very disapproving of interspecies couples. So you’ll run into trouble, and since we are a guild, we’ll run into trouble. Had I known that you were going to visit her last night, I would have done everything I could to convince you otherwise. You are like a cat playing with fire!

  FeeTwix: A cat playing with fire?

  Ryuk: It’s a Japanese saying.

  FeeTwix: Never heard it put that way.

  “Who is it, FeeTwix?” Zaena calls out again.

  “It’s Ryuk.” FeeTwix loses his grip on the towel and catches it just in time.

  “So what now?”

  “What now?” FeeTwix laughs. “You’re taking this too seriously, Ryuk. Now, Zaena joins our guild and we kick the Shinigami’s asses together. Speaking of which, we really need to meet Hiccup soon.”

  Join our guild?

  “Have you already asked her if she’d like to join us? Thuleans are not really the guild-joining type. There was only one in my last guild, and that was only because of his friendship with our leader, Sophia.”

  “Actually, Zaena asked me if it’d be cool if she joined us.” He lowers his voice. “But since you’re the guild leader, it’s really up to you.”

  Ryuk considers this for a moment. Regardless of the social issues, a Thulean in the ranks would give them instant access to the Thulean language – important on the other two floating continents – plus they are effective fighters, even at lower levels.

  Emphasize differences. How does one actually do that? That’s one of those pithy epigrams like celebrate diversity or eschew obfuscation. Two humans, a goblin, and a Thulean certainly have plenty of differences to emphasize, but what does it actually mean? How is it supposed to help?

  A prompt appears:

  Zaena Morozon would like to join your guild. Will you allow it?

  Ryuk cuts his philosophical quandary short and says, “Sure, she can join.”

  Zaena Morozon, Level 11 Brawler Assassin, has joined your guild!

  “Thanks, bud!” FeeTwix hops forward and gives Ryuk a quick hug. “All right, we’ll get some clothes on and then we’ll meet you in the town square. Oh, and no worries on healing potions, I’ll stock up before we meet you. It should only take a second.”

  “Got it.” Ryuk says. “You should drink half of one or something before you meet us; you look beat to hell.”

  FeeTwix eyeballs his scrapes, scratches, bruises, and amative contusions. ‘Yeah, but I sure had fun doing it. I’ll definitely do that. I’ll save the other half for Hiccup. Who knows what sort of debauchery he got into last night!”

  (0)__(0)

  A murder of silver Sotlian love crows caw and shriek and snap their beaks as they perch in the canopies of the trees that line the main boulevard.

  Several bakeries stand with their doors open to the morning, and the air is thick with the enticing aroma of fresh baked pastries. Bakers’ assistants weave in and out of the crowds, enticing passers-by with free samples and BOGO scrolls.

  As he makes his way to the meeting point, Ryuk’s thoughts bounce between the last time he and Tamana fought together in the game and watching her surrealistic slow-motion death by subway train.

  Maybe if he had convinced her to stay logged in for longer, things would have played out differently. Maybe she’d be alive and who knows, maybe they’d be having breakfast right about now. There was a Cafe Colorado between their homes in Tokyo. A little cluttered, but nice. Maybe they’d be there now if she was still alive.

  Emphasize differences. Ryuk is pretty sure Hajime’s pithy little oblique card simply means to know one’s enemy, even if the humandroid tries to make it sound like some deep philosophical insight or something. Then again, it could mean anything and maybe that is the implicit meaning – any situation applies.

  The clock tower bell announces that it is indeed the Hour of the Morning Fire, and as it sounds, the love crows explode into the air, wheel, turn, and form ever-shifting Rorschach patterns of hidden deeper meanings.

  Ryuk checks their group finances and discovers that the guild bank account is nearing rock bottom. Even with the cut that Hiccup stole, they should still be a couple thousand rupees up.

  He kicks an acorn that has fallen from one of the trees in the square. I need to speak to a guild banker about putting authorized user controls on the guild’s funds.

  He crunches the next acorn he sees and grinds it under his heel.

  As he waits, Ryuk watches an NPC carriage driver have a one-sided argument with a magnificent white Clydesdale. The driver scolds the stubborn draft-horse to no avail. He pleads, cajoles and shakes his finger at the creature’s snout, tugs on the horse’s reins.

  The impassive mountain of muscle snorts, tosses his head and refuses to budge. At least I’m not the only one with problems, Ryuk finds himself thinking, then he feels stupid for even thinking something so petty.

  His hands in his pockets, he rocks back and forth on his heels, watching a particular cloud take shape that reminds him of Softbank’s curved equal sign logo. A prompt appears, asking him if he’d like to know more about SoftBank Quickstream InstaInvest Services.

  Ryuk selects no and the ad flutters away.

  Real world advertising is banned in some cities in the three floating continents of Tritania, but not all of them. The adverts target the average consumer rather than specific individuals, and they are much worse around major shopping hubs.

  The only thing good about the advertising is that sometimes the corporate sponsors pay to have custom quests that offer exclusive, heavily logoed items as rewards.

  Once, Ryuk completed a Jolt Cola sponsored quest that awarded him a pair of nunchucks that flashed the Jolt Cola logo and loudly announced ‘JOLT’ every time they connected with an enemy. He always felt like an unpaid corporate shill and would have scrapped the chucks, but they gave him 35% more attack power than whatever enemy he was up against. The chucks were, in three words, blatant yet badass.

  A tap on his shoulder and Ryuk spins around with his slingshot aimed at the ready. He didn’t get a marble in the slingshot’s pouch, but it’s the thought that counts.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to come from that direction,” he says as he lowers his ammo-less weapon. Something taps Ryuk’s right cheek. He’s just about to tell Zaena to keep her ghost limbs to herself when FeeTwix produces a canvas carrier bag.

  “I got healing potions out the wazoo, all delivered to the hotel room, by the way, so we could get here in time. Call me fantasy Festivus Phil. Wait, do Japanese people celebrate Chrismahanukwanzivus?” He grins.

  “Not in the way you think.”

  “That reminds me, you don’t need any sort of marbles, do you?”

  “They are unlimited. When I get a new marble, I also get a new pouch on my belt. As I’ve said before – well, I think I told you – my only limitation is my weapon.”

  FeeTwix’s eyes turn blue. “Those will soon be problems of the past. The fan who’s making your marble gun messaged me, and she promises to have a working version by the end of the day, maybe sooner. She’s charging us for it, but I’ll pay her out of the royalties I’ll make for today’s advertisements. So no worries there; just expect just a bit more selling than normal.”

  “You’re such a cutie.” Zaena pulls FeeTwix to her and kisses him. FeeTwix shoots Ryuk a thumb’s up mid-kiss.

  “Another thing,” FeeTwix says, post-kiss, “well, just show him.”

  Zaena smiles and her cheeks lift, raising the tips of her pointed ears through her orange mop of hair. She holds her hand out at Ryuk and drops her wrist, revealing an odd ring shaped like a wilted flower.

  He gasps. “You
’re engaged?”

  FeeTwix’s eyes flash from black to blue. “What?! No! That’s not what that is.”

  Zaena glances sharply from FeeTwix back to Ryuk. “It’s a Sotlian Pocket Sauna.” She touches the tip of the wilted flower and a sparkling ring of blue energy takes shape above her hand. “Touching it will transport us to a rejuvenating sauna that will heal our hit points completely, if we stay for thirty minutes.”

  “And how many times can you use it per day?”

  “Once, so we should use it wisely.”

  Hiccup approaches the three wearing a dark gray robe with a hood that obscures his face but does nothing to conceal his rather unique style of ambulation. “Over here!” FeeTwix shouts and waves.

  “For fick’s sake, Twixy! Why not break out the marching band with sparklers and Mardi Gras floats, why dontcha? How about a sign that reads HICCUP THE FICKIN’ GOBLIN?” He lowers his voice as his eyes dart left and right. “It’s like this: there are a couple of big-ass, bad-tempered orcs looking for me, and I’d really really really like to get the hell out of Sotla before they find me. Y’know – what happens in Sotla stays in Sotla, right?”

  FeeTwix laughs. “Babe, this is Hiccup, the third – and surliest – member of the Mitherfickers. Check out his mechanical arm. Cool, huh?”

  “I’m the second member, I’m not surly, and never mind the arm!”

  Zaena rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

  “Seriously, we need to fickin’ leave now, as in right now, as in let’s go-go-GO!”

  “Drink up, pal.” FeeTwix produces a half-finished healing potion. Hiccup’s fingers are tattered and crusted with dried blood; his nails are notable for their absence.

  “What happened to your nails?” Ryuk asks.

  “Lost them in a bet with an ink shadow. Can you believe that fickhole strung my nails on a necklace right in front of me? What kind of twisted sicko does that?” He chugs the potion and his nails re-form, but not as long and sharp as they used to be.

  “I thought you were with some orc … um, entertainers or something,” Ryuk says.

  “Look kid, one day when your balls drop, you’ll understand that sometimes a goblin’s gotta do what a goblin’s gotta do, and that when an opportunity presents itself, you go with it. After all, what’s life if it isn’t about losing stupid, painful bets and ending up in an orc’s den handcuffed and pony-pegged by a leather-clad slag while your chalupa is clamped in a bench vise?”

  Ryuk gives him a confused look.

  “Ha! Kidding, I’m kidding, that’s not what happened last night. Well, not all of it. Well, some of it. Actually most of that happened but that’s not important now. Um … ” He takes a deep breath. “Where was I?”

  “Say hi to your fans,” FeeTwix says, his eyes suddenly black.

  “Fans?”

  FeeTwix taps his temple.

  “Crap, early onset Goblinheimer’s is no joke, believe you me. Look, kiddos, as much as I’d love to fill you in on all the juicy details of last night, we really need to get out of town now. Like really. Seriously. Let’s go now. And Twixy, tell your fans to go fick themselves.”

  Ryuk narrows his eyes at the goblin. “You spent all the rupees that you stole from our guild last night, didn’t you?”

  “This isn’t the time to be talking about guild finances!”

  Ryuk remains impassive, arms crossed across his chest.

  Hiccup huffs and sighs. “But if we must … in short, yes, I spent all the money, but actually I spent much more than that, much, much more, and unless the Mitherfickers want to be responsible for covering my losses, we need to get the fick out of Sotla and never return.”

  Zaena shoots FeeTwix a look of doubt and he shrugs.

  “So sure, I spent all the rupees, but I’m also saving us a lot of rupees by having us leave right now. So in a way, we’ve come out ahead.”

  Ryuk notices a trio of broad-shouldered, grim-visaged, armed and armored orc warriors moving steadily in their direction. One of them turns and calls for other orcs to join the hunt.

  Ryuk sighs. “All right, we’d better go. Where to? Hills of Hillshire again?”

  Zaena shakes her head. “The Jatla Forest, where I encountered the Shinigami. I was prompted to take a quest, but I was running solo and so I decided not to. There’s supposedly treasure in an abandoned ninja temple in the forest, and considering we have how much in our guild coffers … ”

  “There he is!” One of the orcs calls out. As the orcs charge, the four Mitherfickers select a new spawning point and dematerialize just in time to avoid the attack.

  (0)__(x)

  “For the record,” Hiccup says as they take shape on the outskirts of the Jatla Forest, “I would have doubled our rupees, doubled, if that damn ink shadow hadn’t cheated me, just like the other one back at the cathedral. The dirty, stinking, lowdown cheating racist fickers; I swear they have it out for us goblins.”

  Ryuk ignores Hiccup as he scans the forest, looking for any trace of magic. There isn’t any, but some of the trees have been uprooted and trampled. “So this is where you encountered the Shinigami?” he asks Zaena.

  “It is, in the clearing over there.” She uses one of her ghost limbs to turn Ryuk’s chin toward the clearing. He notices this time that his skin prickles when she touches him; there’s something almost electric about it.

  “Let’s check it out,” FeeTwix says.

  There are no overt signs of battle in the clearing, but the uprooted trees are mature specimens, and whatever’s smashed them aside is by no means little.

  “This is the spot where I spawned out of here,” she explains, “and not a moment too soon. Careful of that hole in the ground, goblin.”

  “The name is Hiccup, and I believe we haven’t met yet and seriously, Twixy, who the fick is the Thulean and why is she with us? Whatever happened to extreme vetting? Sure, I should have asked earlier, but my attention was otherwise focused, orc-wise.”

  Her nostrils flare as her orange slit eyes settle on the goblin. “Chain duchitekcha.”

  “Dolakh charnekh slumdokh motikh,” Hiccup snorts.

  Her eyes widen in surprise. “You speak Thulean!”

  “Better than you, probably. You think just because I’m a goblin, I’m nothing but a low-life, lamebrain, ass-scratching, booger-eating moron with indifferent personal hygiene?” he says, as he scratches his ass.

  “Well … yes – you’re a goblin,” She shakes off her surprise. “However, call me a lazy animal in heat again at your own peril.”

  Hiccup rolls his eyes. “Pfft! Big scary Thulean gonna be my future murderer, eh? I’ve stepped on bigger lizards than you … Ha! Liz! Now there’s a nickname I can get behind!”

  They lock eyes – and she looks away first.

  Ryuk and FeeTwix exchange looks – there’s more to their goblin compadre than is readily apparent at first glance.

  Movement in the forest; Ryuk is the first with his weapon up.

  A bear the size of an aeros minivan tears out of the shrubbery. A thick leathery shell covers its back, with bands of yellow, orange and light brown. The armor extends up the creature’s neck and forms a series of sharp spikes around its eyes and forehead. The creature roars; the birds in the trees startle and scatter into panicked flight.

  Bearadillo Level 15

  HP: 412/412

  ATK: 124

  DEF: 267

  MATK: 0

  MDF: 293

  LUCK: 2

  Ryuk zips two knife marbles and the bearadillo’s carapace shrugs them off like raindrops. Up next, Zaena flings her two short swords into the air and charges the mahoosive creature. She snags the swords with her ghost limbs, leaps and drives them against the bearadillo’s hardened shell.

  Her swords skid off without penetrating, and she narrowly avoids a slashing counterblow from the creature’s claws.

  A prompt appears before FeeTwix and he swipes it away:

  “Really guys?” he asks the clouds. A wheelchair ta
kes shape in front of him and he grabs the handles.

  “Oh no!” FeeTwix yells and points behind Hiccup, “Ghosts!”

  “Where?” The plasmophobic goblin shrieks and whirls to look where FeeTwix points. “Oh no, oh fick no!”

  FeeTwix charges his distracted guildmate, scoops him up in the wheelchair and sprints past the bearadillo while Hiccup shrieks like a lunch whistle.

  The massive armored omnivore focuses on noise and motion, turns and lumbers after its noisy rolling snack. As it picks up speed, it gets its armored tail up for added stability, giving Ryuk the chance to sling an explosive surprise right into its exposed anus.

  -123 HP!

  New skill learned!

  Skill: Cherry Poppin’ Daddy

  Level One: 1 in 11 chance of connecting. Enemy’s backside must be exposed. Higher levels increase damage and chance for an instakill.

  Damage: 35% if enemy is less than level 30; 13% if enemy is greater than level 30.

  Odds of instakill: 13%

  Requirements for instakill: LUCK > 7

  The bearadillo’s front feet skid out from under it; it howls in pain and whirls to face the source of its torment. Zaena uses her ghost limbs like invisible stilts to increase her speed, and with swords out, hurls herself at the creature. The enraged beast rears up and smashes her out of the air; she plows into the underbrush in an uncontrolled cartwheel.

  “Oh SHIT! Zaena!” FeeTwix shouts. Double-bladed sword in hand, he turns to face the creature.

  From out of nowhere, Hiccup races in, swings a double-bitted war axe into the bearadillo’s butt wound and barely avoids the armored predator’s answering mule-kick.

  -38 HP!

  “Attack the hole in its ass!” Hiccup equips a plumbata, runs back in and heaves the oversized dart at the bearadillo’s vulnerable spot. Another direct hit and the creature shrieks in agony.

  -36 HP!

  “Attack its ass! Attack its ass!”

  FeeTwix: His underside is vulnerable too!

  Ryuk: But we can’t get under there …

  FeeTwix: Fire as many explosive marbles as you can at his feet. Maybe we can flip it!