Fantasy Online_Hyperborea

by Harmon Cooper

  Cries in the distance catch Ryuk’s attention. “We really should do what we came here to do, and quickly.”

  “That’s what we’re doing!” Hiccup assures him. “Come on kid, you wanna get the cooter, then you gotta be the looter – and hey you even got a shooter. I’ll bet that’d suit ‘er. Ha! I kill myself sometimes.”

  Ryuk glances to Tamana and she looks away, her cheeks suddenly red. “I’m not trying to impress her,” he mumbles under his breath.

  FeeTwix: Where the fickity fick are you guys? We’re knee deep in some shit over here!

  Hiccup: That’s your own damn fault! And stop stealing my lines!

  Ryuk: What do you mean by ‘here’?

  FeeTwix: Town square. How long until you get here?

  Ryuk: No telling. We’re doing a bit of looting as we make our way to you. Hiccup’s idea.

  Hiccup: Damn skippy it was my idea. We’re gonna be rich, boys – rich I tells ya!

  FeeTwix: If you see any pretty necklaces, swipe them for me so I can give one to Zaena. And hurry your asses up!

  Hiccup: I’ve picked up a couple of pearl necklaces – do you want me to give her one?

  FeeTwix:┌∩┐(ಠ_ಠ)┌∩┐

  One of the Bannon’s upstairs windows crashes outwards. A zombie with Chiup hog jowls and a face covered in age spots juts his head out and hisses as he clutches at the window frame.

  Mr. Race Bannon Level ??

  HP: 666/666

  ATK: 9

  MATK: 23

  DEF: 121

  MDF: 116

  LUCK: 45

  “I’ve got this.” Ryuk draws his magic slingshot and places a molten marble in its pouch. He pulls the bands back and waits for the zombie to frame itself in the window.

  His perfectly placed shot smashes through the undead’s lips and teeth.

  -120! Critical hit! Tonsil Shot!

  The zombie spouts flame from its eyes, ears, nose and mouth, windmills its arms and topples over backwards. Tendrils of smoke waft from the window, and Ryuk is awarded double EXP.

  “Talk about some heartburn!” Hiccup laughs as a store brand SafeKrogerWay healing potion appears in his mechanical hand. “What? It’s prophylactic.”

  He chugs it back, wipes his lips, curses the flavor, and smashes the bottle on the ground. Up the front steps he trots, kicks in the unlocked door and goes face first over the threshold when he overbalances. “FICK! … I mean, um, I meant to do that!”

  “I’ll cover you,” Ryuk tells Tamana.

  She keeps her buster sword at the ready and stumbles when she accidentally digs it into the doorframe. With a sheepish grin on her face, Tamana yanks her sword free and blows a strand of white hair out of her eyes. Ryuk enters, his marble gun at the ready, the rest of his magazine of molten marbles still in the weapon.

  “All righty then,” Hiccup says once everyone is in the foyer, “We need to make this quick and dirty.” The inside is a shambles. Furniture is smashed and overturned, clothes and possessions are littered about, and smears of gore are everywhere. The air is heavy with the smell of blood, ripped bowels, and decomposing zombie flesh.

  Tamana gasps. “It’s like a bad American horror movie in here.”

  “It’s not that much worse than Jatla, really,” Ryuk reminds her.

  Her face contorts as she considers for a moment. Finally, she nods.

  “I’m pretty sure the way we want to go is down.” Hiccups points beneath his feet and stomps the floor, just in case they’re unclear as to where ‘down’ is. “Also these one percenters keep their best shit down below. Anyone see a door?”

  “Um … ” Tamana takes a quick look around, smacks her buster sword against an end table and sends a Naklin vase filled with Kadupuls to the ground. The three jump when it shatters, and Hiccup expresses his gaseous disapproval.

  “Holy flying fick, Tammy, you’re killing us here!” He rattles his ax at her. “Why don’t you just equip an accordion, bagpipes, and glockenspiel and have your own Loud Lives Matter parade!”

  “Sorry.” She bows and scuffs her toe in front of her. “Sorry again.”

  A muffled cry for help comes from a coat closet.

  “Probably just women or children. Ignore them,” Hiccup examines a few of the busts in the foyer that haven’t been toppled over. “Come on, rich people, where’s your secret switcheroo?”

  He stops in front of a bust of a bad tempered, disgruntled, disgusted, dyspeptic looking fat guy. “This must be the fat rat bastard you popped in the pie hole.” He strokes the bust’s head with his mechanical hand and puts a finger in each nostril, prods and twists.

  Thumping and more muffled cries makes Tamana to turn to Ryuk. “There are people in there,” she whispers. “We have to help them.”

  Again, Hajime’s quote, comes to him – do both. Ryuk steps forward. “Hiccup, we’re going to go help those people.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever – you get after it, Do-right,” the goblin says as flicks his finger at the statue’s lip. “Just be sure to clear the rest of the house first, and if you run into trouble, deal with it and I’ll call you when I need you.”

  “I’ll open it, you keep your gun ready,” Tamana whispers to Ryuk as they approach the closet.

  “Got it.” He holds his marble gun at chest level as Tamana opens the door.

  “Don’t hurt us!”

  Ryuk immediately holsters his weapon when he sees a pair of gnomes cowering in the jacket closet. The male gnome’s salt and pepper beard stretches well past his belly; his forearms are prominently tattooed with otherworldly script. His female companion’s gray hair is pulled into a tight bun and secured with a pair of knitting needles. Their footgear is scuffed and torn and worn, and they both sport a heavy brass anklet. Most noticeably, they’re missing their pointy red hats.

  The gnomette flings herself forward and wraps her arms around Ryuk’s waist. “You saved us!” Tears of joy stream down her wrinkled face as she looks up at him. “It was terrible! Awful! Horrible! Terrible!”

  “Don’t hug him, Chantrea! He could still kill you!” The male gnome brandishes a pair of pruning shears in a most unconvincing and half-hearted manner.

  “Please,” Ryuk tells him, “we’re not going to kill you.”

  If we were, you’d already be dead, he thinks.

  Tamana smiles at the pair as a sudden realization spreads across her face. “You two are from Unigaea, aren’t you?”

  “How did you know?” Chantrea asks.

  “The tattoos on his arms. That’s the script they used in that world, isn’t it?”

  Ryuk has seen the Thai-inspired script before burned across the chest of a mysterious warrior they once encountered in Ultima Thule. Unigaea was a VMMORPG world that was popular for a brief spell in the 2060s until a disgruntled player with a source code bomb destroyed it; those few NPCs that escaped became refugees in Tritania.

  “It is,” the male gnome steps forward and offers his hand to Ryuk. “The name is Arun, and this is my wife, Chantrea.”

  Hiccup bellows from the other room. “Yo-Ho, treasure enthusiasts! Hot ficks, I figured it out! Never mind your do-goodery. I need back up, so get your asses in here!”

  Arun lowers his bushy brows and scowls. “You’ve brought a goblin with you?”

  “Um … ” Ryuk scratches the back of his head. “Actually, he brought us.”

  “So you’re here for the treasure in the family crypt then, aren’t you?”

  “It wasn’t our original reason to come here to Kayi. We’re actually here to hunt zombies.” He looks to Tamana and shrugs. “Somehow, we’ve ended up as looters.”

  “C’mon you two – chop-chop! We got stuff to steal! Let’s fickin’ go!”

  Arun straightens his back and puffs out his chest. “Then let us help you. Mr. Bannon and his atrocious twin daughters have been the bane of our existence for years!”

  “Honey … ” Chantrea places her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Don’t say things like that.
The twins weren’t too bad.”

  “Not too bad? They took away our pointy felt hats! And look at this!” He gestures to the brass band around his ankle. “If either of us leaves the property without their permission we will be permanently deleted and they’re the ones that set up the magic! I know what I am,” Arun says, “and by permanently deleted I mean just that – these bracelets put a kink in our D-NAS that will force an auto-delete function.”

  “That’s awful,” Tamana empathizes.

  “And as you can see,” Arun glowers at the ankle cuff, “whatever type of magic this is, it is still in effect.”

  “You two had better not be dead … ah, fick!” Hiccup joins the two and rolls his eyes when he sees the gnomes. “We’re not here on a rescue mission. Sorry, gnomes, you’re on your own.”

  “You’ve already rescued us,” Arun tells him, “at least your friends have, goblin. We want to help you now.”

  “Help us?” Hiccup raises an eyebrow at the gnome. “And the name is Hiccup.”

  “Are you sure, Arun?” his wife asks. “Are you sure we should help them?”

  The stout gnome gives the three Mitherfickers a determined nod. “I know where the treasure is. Follow me!”

  (0)__(x)

  “I already know the way,” Hiccup informs the group as they pass into the foyer. “So save the tour guide shit.”

  Arun gives the goblin a curt shake of the head. “No, no you don’t. You’ve found the booby trapped passage that you’re supposed to find, the one that leads straight to your gruesome, violent, painful death. The non-booby trapped passage that leads to the treasure is through the pantry.” The gnome gently takes his wife’s elbow and guides her around the busts that Hiccup knocked over.

  “As long as there’s treasure, and as long as you know where the fickin’ treasure is, you’re in charge, pops.”

  Ryuk holds back for a moment to let the others pass. He takes a breath, and his Extreme Focus and Magic Eye skills reveal a soft yellow magic that filters from the entrance that Hiccup discovered.

  His marble gun at the ready, he follows Tamana into the kitchen, which looks like a whirling herd of cartoon Tasmanian Devils has been through it. All the drawers have been stripped from the cupboards and scattered glassware and ceramic shards litter the floor.

  Arun stops in front of the pantry door. “It’s been hell, that’s for sure,” he says as he opens the door.

  A wave of stench and funk roll out to greet him; he screams like a sissy when the orc zombie stumbles out and reaches for him. Hiccup shrieks “Oh FICK!” and releases a cloud of stench and funk all his own.

  “Move, Move, MOVE!” Tamana shouts as she swings the buster sword and hacks the pantry door, doorframe, and orc zombie in half.

  -58 HP! Critical hit!

  The upper half of the zombie lands face up and it tilts its head to keep them in view as it scrabbles for traction with clawed hands. Tamana chops its head free and drives her oversized blade through the bridge of its nose.

  Instakill!

  A wide eyed Hiccup turns to the two resetters. “Hey – Marbles, Tammy. What part of ‘clear the rest of the house first’ did you fail to understand?”

  “Don’t be too harsh with them,” Arun pipes up. “They were rescuing us!”

  “Fickin’ amateur hour,” Hiccup mumbles under his breath.

  Chantrea places the back of her hand against her head as if to faint. “Please, please remove it,” she asks meekly. “I can’t look!”

  “Relax, dear, I’ll handle it.” Arun grabs the orc zombie’s lower half by its wolf leather boots and gives it an ineffectual tug. “A little help for the gnome, maybe?” Ryuk joins him and they drag the body out of the way and pile the top half next to it. Hiccup boots the head out through the entryway.

  “Right,” says Arun, “and thank you,” he tells the three Mitherfickers. “The lighting is poor in the pantry, so we’ll need to grab a lantern. Chantrea?”

  “I always keep a spare one here.” She produces one from a lower cabinet, snaps her fingers and the lantern sparks to life.

  “Come in then.” Arun lets the three enter, followed by his wife. He closes the door as he steps in last and points at a stack of barrels. “The middle one is the door.” He removes the bung, inserts two fingers and pushes. The barrel clamshells open to reveal a flight of stairs. “The family crypt is at the bottom.”

  “And the treasure?” Hiccup rubs his paws together.

  “It’s in the crypt, you’ll see it. We’ll wait up here for you.”

  Hiccup points his ax at the gnome couple. “The fick you will. I’ll tell you what, you two go down there with us just to be sure that there’s no funny stuff.”

  “Funny stuff?”

  “Yeah – ambushes, booby traps, clown zombies – that type of thing. Funny stuff.”

  “Fine,” Arun huffs, “but I will not be the first one to enter.”

  “And you won’t be the last either, that will be Marbles over there. Kid, keep your weapon on these two as we descend.”

  Ryuk raises his marble gun. “Got it.” He catches a side glance from Tamana and gives her a quick shrug.

  The five take the stairs, Ryuk in the rear. Nothing is said as they enter into a cool room with a low ceiling. Chantrea’s lantern does little to fully light the space, leaving the edges crosshatched with darkness. A sickly sweet odor hangs in the air.

  “It’s like the catacombs under Polynya,” Tamana says as they take another flight of stairs.

  “That’s what it was designed after,” says Arun, “the Bannons were a powerful and influential family at Empress Thun’s court, but there were allegations of shady dealings and consorting with anti-imperial elements and hanging around with that that vile Dirty Dave character.”

  “Hey, Dirty Dave is just a very successful business entity!” Hiccup reminds everyone.

  “Was there a Mrs. Bannon?” Tamana’s oversized surfboard of a sword clangs against the wall, and badly startles Hiccup.

  “Dragon ficks!” the goblin calls over his shoulder. “Either be more careful or put that fickin’ thing away! This place already has my gob-sphincter clenched!”

  “Sorry.” She bows her head to him as she follows closely behind.

  Arun pipes up, “There were several Mrs. Bannons. I think there were ... five?”

  “Six,” Chantrea corrects her husband. “And an equal number of mistresses. But as of three weeks ago, there hasn’t been a Mrs. Bannon, nor a mistress.”

  “Just to be sure, is Mr. Bannon a fat, ugly fick who looks like the mutant love child of an inbred radioactive orc and a rabid Chiup hog with chiggers?” Hiccup asks.

  Arun snorts. “I haven’t heard him described that way before, but yes, I do believe that’s him, goblin.”

  “Well, don’t need to worry about that ficker anymore. Marbles back there roasted that little piggy from the inside. And the name is Hiccup!”

  The five enter into a corridor that stretches beyond the circle of light from Chantrea’s lantern. “This is it,” she says, “the family crypt.” She steps away from the foot of the stairs, stubs her toe, trips, and drops the lantern.

  Velvety blackness envelops them.

  Ryuk’s Extreme Focus kicks in; at the far end of the crypt he can just make out the faintest outline of two bodies, one of which has an aura of dark blue magic. He fires two molten marbles that strike about halfway to the approaching silhouettes.

  Chantrea shrieks as the bright white light from the marbles illuminates the two approaching figures. “Kelly? Anne? Please tell me it isn’t so!”

  Two emaciated zombies slowly step into the light. Their faces are drawn and pinched, their eyes have dried and shriveled, black dried blood rims their mouths and only a few tufts of straggly bleached blonde hair are still attached to their skulls.

  Chantrea moans and covers her eyes. “My poor, poor girls!”

  Hiccup snorts. “Fick me to tears, look at these two! Let’s give ‘em the chop and be do
ne with it. There’s booty to loot-y!”

  Kelly Bannon Level 10

  HP: 613/613

  ATK: 99

  MATK: 13

  DEF: 58

  MDF: 64

  LUCK: 8

  Kelly extends her arms, hisses, and throws herself at Hiccup. He curses, spins aside, swings his ax and slices her arm off.

  -100 HP!

  Zombie Anne snags Kelly’s flailing arm out of the air. She makes a hoarse barking sound, and Kelly returns to her side.

  “Oh, FICK, they’re not supposed to do that shit!”

  “Get behind us,” Tamana tells the two gnomes, who are rooted to the spot and show no sign of complying. She keeps one eye on the two zombie sisters while she herds the two gnomes behind Hiccup. With his marble gun still trained on Kelly, Ryuk takes a quick look at Anne’s stats for any clues.

  Anne Bannon Level 11

  HP: 628/628

  MANA: 298/298

  ATK: 21

  MATK: 119

  DEF: 36

  MDF: 94

  LUCK: 12

  She has the stats of some sort of mage …

  Anne slaps her sister’s arm back on her stump. A dark blue bubbling of energy moves over Kelly’s shoulder and the arm reattaches. Anne turns to Ryuk and offers him a wicked smile.

  He unloads on her, and she deflects his marbles with casual arrogance.

  “Anne is self-aware! She’s defending herself – real zombies don’t do that!”

  “What?” Tamana gasps and tightens her grip on her sword.

  Zombie Kelly’s shuffling charge gives Tamana ample time to swing her giant sword and hack her head off. It hits the floor, bounces once, and Ryuk incinerates it with a molten marble.

  Instakill!

  Level up!

  Ryuk moves up one level, Tamana two, but both of them are too distracted by Anne to check their stats.

  Dark blue necrotic magic ripples around Anne’s arms and legs; Hiccup lifts his shield and clashes his ax against it. “Well, you two got her good and pissed by killing her sis. Let’s finish this!”