by Jake Bible
There were about six river trolls standing in the tree line staring at me, heavy clubs in their hands. One of them started to smile and showed me those huge troll teeth that could grind bones into powder.
“Tasty,” he said.
Man, I hate EverRealm.
Nine
“Hold on now,” I said as I struggled up onto my feet. They watched me with great interest. “Let’s not be hasty or anything, okay?”
“You one of them,” the smiling troll said. He had to be eight feet tall and was nothing but thick, gray hide and massive muscles on top of massive muscles. “You Othersider.”
That’s what the natives of EverRealm called us. The Othersiders. It was an EverRealm thing. In the other Domains, we weren’t singled out at all. Just one more reason I disliked EverRealm.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m an Othersider,” I said. “Which is why you lot should think about taking those clubs and walking away. You know we Othersiders are more powerful than any of you.”
They laughed. Deep, throaty laughs that rumbled like thunder.
“You Ranger pussy,” the troll said. “Snack.”
I looked down and saw I’d automatically been switched into my EverRealm outfit. It was all green leather and rough deerskin. And completely waterlogged. I tried to casually pat myself down to see what weapons I had on me, but the slightest movement caused half the trolls to growl in a way that sent my nuts up to visit my tonsils. I froze.
The smiling troll, who was obviously in charge, turned and looked to his left then his right then back at me. The smile widened even more.
“No more Othersiders,” he said. “You alone, Ranger pussy. You no luck.”
“Me no luck,” I said. “No shit.”
“No shit!” the troll echoed then laughed hard. “You no shit!”
I had one option which was to get back in the water. These were river trolls, but the name was a bit of a misnomer. While trolls were great swimmers, they had to paddle like crazy or they sunk like boulders to the bottom because their muscles were so dense. Dense due to their immense strength. One punch and I was dead.
So, back in the water it was.
I turned and sprinted the three feet to the water and dove. It wasn’t deep enough for a real dive, and my belly scraped against the rocks, but I managed to keep below the surface long enough to get myself out into the current.
When I popped my head back up, all I saw was the smiling troll standing far off, waving his club at me. He was either saying goodbye or saying for me to have a long look at the club since we’d be meeting again. Trolls weren’t the brightest, but holy shit could they hold a grudge. I just made that troll’s shit list.
I let the current take me down the river, staying on my back, my eyes watching for the attack that I knew was going to come. But after a very cold hour or so, there was no sign of the trolls. I risked swimming my way to the opposite bank and climbed my frozen ass out of there.
Even without a sign of the river trolls, I was still in a lot of trouble. I had my EverRealm clothes, but unless I made it to a save point in the Domain then I was going to be unarmed and without any of the inventory I’d built up on the few times I’d played in EverRealm with the others.
“West,” I mumbled through chattering teeth as I painfully watched the three red suns begin to descend towards the mountains on the horizon. “Head west until I find the village at the crossroads.”
I blinked a few times and tried to bring my heads-up display online, but since I’d entered the game Domain incorrectly, I didn’t even have access to that. I was walking blind in a land that wasn’t mine, that I didn’t like, and could kill me at any second. If I didn’t make it to the closest save point, then no matter what I ate or drank or however much I slept, my health wasn’t going to increase.
I was no better than a non-player character. And no one wants to be an NPC. No one.
Without a heads-up display, I had zero idea which way was west. This was EverRealm, not Earth. Do the suns set in the west? Or do they set in the east? Shit, they could set in the south. EverRealm was a fantasy Domain dominated by magic, not by science. As far as I knew, the place was flat and I could walk off the edge if I travelled far enough.
But, it was overseen by Ming. Ming was Ming. I had serious doubts he would mess with too many things that we take for granted back in the real world. I was going to have to trust that setting suns meant west.
I started walking, following the river until it took a turn and I was heading away from the far-off mountains. I headed into the woods that fronted the riverbank, careful to make sure I was lined up with the mountains and the suns that were dropping fast.
The trees were thin and tall, like southern pines back home, but instead of needles, they had thick, broad leaves like maples. I knew I should recognize the trees and I knew there was a reason for that, but I couldn’t remember why. If I’d had my heads-up display, then my Ranger character would have known what kind of trees they were. His knowledge would have popped up in the discover pane and instantly identified the trees and what they meant. Maybe. I didn’t really maintain the character enough for him to be very effective at anything, really.
Nothing I could do about that, though, so I kept walking, heading deeper into the woods.
Deeper into the dark, dark woods.
Plus side was the trees were skinny and spaced out, so lots of room to walk. Not so plus side was that the branches and leaves above me blocked out what was left of the daylight and I quickly found myself squinting into the gloom.
Everywhere I looked was nothing but shadows. Shadows that appeared to have moving things in them. I’d stop and wait, my ears straining to hear the hidden monster that was coming for me. But nothing ever came. I made it through the woods and stood at the edge of a long, wide meadow filled with bright blue flowers that were nearly as tall as me.
The flowers I knew.
“Great,” I muttered. “Just great.”
Pollywill flowers.
“Great. Just great,” the flowers echoed, matching my voice and tone perfectly.
The sons of bitches loved to mock travelers. They’d echo and echo and echo until you thought you’d go crazy. Then the real fun would begin.
“Listen,” I announced before I set one foot in that meadow. “I know your damn games. Do you hear me? I know how you think and it won’t work on me.”
“It won’t work on me,” they mocked.
“I’m not kidding,” I said. “You can try to get into my head, but it’s not going to do a damn bit of difference.”
They were silent. Pollywill flowers weren’t exactly sentient as much as they were a practical joke gone rogue. But they did know when to quit while behind. I looked like a Ranger to them, so they must have assumed I knew the secret to their downfall.
I didn’t. Kip knew it and so did Ming, but I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that I had to block out what they said in order to get to the other side of the meadow. Otherwise, I’d risk madness about halfway through.
“Are we good?” I asked.
“Good,” they said.
I took one step into the meadow and waited. No mocking. I took another step and another and waited again. Still no mocking. Good, good.
I was maybe fifteen yards in when I heard whispering. Dammit.
“Knock it off,” I snarled. “I’ll start ripping flowers out of the damn ground if I hear another word.”
They went silent again.
Fifteen more yards and there was a bark. A loud bark. A loud bark I knew.
“Holo!” I called. “Holo, is that you?”
An answering bark then a pained yelp that was cut off.
“Holo!” I shouted and began to sprint through the meadow.
I shoved the flower stalks out of my way as I ran blindly towards where I thought I’d heard the yelp. On I ran. And ran. And ran.
“Dammit,” I said as I skidded to a stop and nearly collapsed as my lungs felt like they were on fire. No cramp
s or anything. In the undead apocalypse, you stay in shape. Can’t have a stitch in your side when you’re running from an undead horde. “Dammit.”
I straightened up and stretched. There was no Holo in the meadow. Not anymore. Maybe at one point, which made my blood run cold. The flowers couldn’t make up a sound; they could only parrot it. Which meant a dog, maybe not Holo, but some dog was hurt close enough that they could copy the sound of its pained yelp.
“Okay, okay, good one,” I said. “You got me.”
I grabbed a stalk and pulled hard.
All of the flowers swiveled so they could face me. Several bent over to get a better look at me. I flipped them off with my free hand.
“Here’s how this will go,” I said. “You are going to stop messing with me and let me through this meadow or I start ripping you assholes out of the ground. Are we understood?”
A hiss and a snarl came from my right.
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Is that a no? Are you telling me we aren’t understood?”
The snarl grew louder.
“So, you want me to start tearing all of you out of the ground, is that it?”
I pulled on the stalk and there was a cry from the flowers that was almost ear splitting.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I will pull this piece of…shit…right…”
The snarl was not from one of the flowers.
A large snout appeared between stalks, pushing them aside so I could see the five-inch fangs and massive head that went with it. A brackle. Sort of like a fox and a razorback pig, but so, so much bigger.
“Hey there, Wilbur,” I said and slowly began backing away. “No need to get angry. I wasn’t really going to hurt the nice flower. I was teasing.”
Brackles didn’t exclusively live in pollywill flower meadows. They were native to most of EverRealm and made some great barbecue. If you survived the hunt. The things were smart, fast, deadly, and mean as hell. That meanness went up a notch when anyone stumbled into their territory. The damn pollywill flowers had somehow gotten the brackle to take up residence close to them.
Those sons of bitches. I hate pollywill flowers almost as much as I hate EverRealm as a whole.
The brackle snarled louder then let out a whistling hiss that sent shivers down my spine.
So, I did what any unarmed, unsaved character would do. I ran my ass off.
Ten
I don’t think I’d ever run so fast in my life. Not kidding. Even considering all of the undead I’d had to escape since the apocalypse had started, I honestly could say that running from that brackle may have set some land speed records.
The pollywill flowers laughed. I screamed. The flowers were having a better time than I was.
I could hear the brackle gaining on me, its breathing ragged and harsh as my sprint quickly turned into a marathon. A winding, belabored marathon. Pollywill flowers clumped together, so I was able to use some of those clumps as blockers, dodging around them when the brackle started getting too close. The nasty thing just didn’t have the agility to make the turns without slamming into the pollywill stalks.
Flowers cried out as the beast tore through them, snapping stalks left and right. I couldn’t help but smile at the flowers’ pain. Screw them.
Then I was out of the meadow and in an orchard of apple trees (actual apple trees). The brackle was still on my tail, but it had slowed considerably. The thing was breathing so hard I thought it’d have a heart attack right there. After a few jukes, it grew tired of chasing me and slid to a halt with a disgusted snort and a kick up of dirt and leaves.
I could just make out the pollywill flowers calling to me.
“It won’t work on me! It won’t work on me!” they shouted.
I ignored them and kept running until I was on the far side of the orchard. When I reached the end, I nearly collapsed, barely able to stay on my feet long enough to shamble over to a good-sized apple tree. My arms weren’t jelly, unlike my legs, so I hoisted myself into the crook of two huge branches and settled in for a little rest.
When I woke up, it was the middle of the night and the five Moons of Galac were high in the sky, their light illuminating the orchard in blue and pale green light.
I have no idea why the moons got a name, but the three suns didn’t. I’m sure Ming had an answer since he had an answer to everything in EverRealm, but I could never remember to ask him.
As I stared up at the Galac moons, a slight rustling in some scrub brush a few yards off from the orchard caught my attention. Instantly wide awake, I straightened up, careful not to scrape against the tree’s bark and alert whatever was close by.
More rustling and a shape appeared from out a thicket of brambles. The shape swatted at itself, turning in a slow circle as it obviously tried to get the thorns and spurs off of its cloak. It wasn’t making much headway, so it took off its cloak and stood there in only a pair of leather breeches and a T-shirt.
T-shirt?
The moonlight was plenty strong enough for me to make out the logo of Jamz Cola. I knew that too-tight T-shirt. It was a T-shirt that pissed Ming off to no end. He hated the fact that T-shirt was even in EverRealm. But the T-shirt, and the gut it did a horrible job of covering, could never be parted. Never.
“Kip,” I whispered.
The shape was shaking the cloak out and froze in mid-shake.
“Kip,” I whispered a little louder. “Up here.”
Kip turned in a circle then his shoulders slumped.
“Here, man,” I said in a normal voice.
He jumped and spun around to face me. It wasn’t a happy face. I could easily make out several gashes and more than a few dark bruises across his chin and cheeks. One eye looked like it would swell shut at any second.
Kip stared at my tree for a minute then nodded and limped over to me.
“Can you get up here?” I asked. “There’s a brackle around.”
“Yeah,” he said and tried to climb up. He didn’t get close. “No.”
“Move,” I said. “I’ll come down to you.”
He stepped back and I jumped down. My legs threatened to give out, but the nap in the tree had restored some energy. It wasn’t EverRealm energy, just good old-fashioned Steve energy, but I’d take it.
“You see any of the others?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“What happened to your face? You meet with a brackle, too?”
He shook his head then hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the thicket of brambles.
“Bunyip,” Kip said.
“Bunyip? That water thing from Australia?” I asked. “They have those in EverRealm?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, man, sorry,” I said. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he said and pointed at his face. “Looks bad.”
Kip, as you have guessed, was not a man of many words. Saying anything other than “yeah” was a rare thing. I patted him on his shoulder and he gave me a weak smile.
“You want to rest for a while?” I asked. “I can help you up into a tree.”
“No,” Kip said. “Save point.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I said. “I think it’s to the west. Let’s go.”
I started off in the direction of the Galac moons, but Kip grabbed my forearm and shook his head.
“Not west,” he said.
“Yes, the village is to the west,” I said.
“That’s not west,” he said and nodded ninety degrees to my left.
I’d been going the wrong way.
“Shit,” I said. “Good thing you found me.”
“Yeah,” he said and let my arm go. “Walk.”
So we walked.
We skirted the apple orchard, Kip picking a few up and putting them in his cloak that he twisted up like a sack and threw over his shoulder. The orchard was long and narrow. It took us an hour to reach its end. Once we did, we were faced with a long row of rolling hills. The grass was tall and swaying in the night
breeze.
Kip didn’t pause. He walked into the grass and started trudging up the closest hill with purpose. He knew EverRealm a hell of a lot better than I did, so I followed close behind, my senses alert for the next attack.
I wracked my brain for what could be lurking in the tall grass, what little shit trap EverRealm had in store for us, but I couldn’t think of anything other than snakes and rats and the usual garden-variety vermin. I was sure there had to be something stupid and deadly in the grass, but my lack of EverRealm knowledge put me at a great disadvantage.
I was about to ask what Kip thought when he stopped and put a hand on my chest. We’d almost crested the hill and I could see some light coming from the other side. Kip cocked his head, listening hard, and I did the same.
Someone was humming a tune.
Kip looked to me and I shrugged. He shrugged as well and we kept walking.
Once at the top of the hill, we could easily see the source of the humming as well as the light. Built on the other side was a small cottage. It couldn’t have been more than a single room, it was that small. An old woman was out front, stirring something in a huge black kettle that was suspended over a good-sized fire.
The tune she hummed was familiar. It sounded like a version of the EverRealm theme that greeted players when they went to login. The tune had been mostly forgotten over the years since immersion tanks dropped players directly into the action, removing the need for login screens. But for decades before the immersion tanks, it had been one of the most recognizable themes ever written.
She paused in mid-stir and slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder up at us.
“Well, don’t just stand there like a couple of gorgon victims,” she said in a reedy voice that gave me a shiver up my spine. “Come down here and help an old woman.”
I hesitated, but Kip immediately set off down the hill in a hurry. I had no idea what he expected, but I sure as hell knew that old woman with reedy voices that were stirring the unknown contents of a huge black cauldron by the light of the Galac moons could not be a good thing. That’s basic gaming common sense.
