Fantasy Online Polynya: A LitRPG Saga

by Harmon Cooper

  FeeTwix: Not a bad plan at all. Plus I like dogs.

  Ryuk: Is that why you had dog food in your list?

  FeeTwix: Damn skippy. I had a dog named Rex in Dead City. He was one killer Pomeranian!

  Ryuk feels someone tug on his hand. He turns back to see Hiccup scowling at him.

  “Marbles, I swear to the Empress, kid, I like you, I really do, especially after your balls dropped a few days back, and sure, you need to visit a whorehouse with me to keep those nuts hanging, but that’s beside the point. Where was I?”

  Ryuk starts to sigh and Hiccup cuts him off.

  “No, don’t remind me. I remember– extreme vetting. Whatever happened to extreme vetting? Remember the ban? I’m calling it a ban, there, I said it, and don’t for a minute think that a mangy wolf the size of a Chiup hog and fickin’ He-Man over there with his dumbass sword of doom are going to pass the test.”

  “Test?” Ryuk shoos Hiccup away.

  “I’m not finished! After what your bride-to-be Tammy did back at the Shinigami’s guild quarters, we need a test to vet, extremely vet, anyone that we offer membership to.”

  Ryuk raises an eyebrow at him. “What if one of your cousins asks to join?”

  “Why would we need to vet one of them? They’re good people. Except Spew Gorge. He’s a real little ficker. He’s possibly my son too, but you didn’t hear that from me. But yeah, fick Tarzan over here and the wolf he rode in on.”

  “Your goblin is a real asshole,” Oric says after he’s heard Hiccup say all this.

  Ryuk’s face flushes red, embarrassment writ large. “Don’t listen to him,” he tells the poisoned warrior. “He can be … ”

  “I can be what?” Hiccup presses past Ryuk and points his mechanical finger at Oric. “And for fick’s sake, what is with all the racism in this guild? I’m nobody’s goblin, I have a name. What’s with you people?”

  “You people?” Zaena asks.

  Ryuk interjects, “Hiccup, relax, ‘goblin’ is not a racial term.”

  “Yeah, when we use it, but if others use it … you know what? Fick all of you, especially Liz.” He shoulders his way to the back of the group again.

  “Fick you too, goblin!” Zaena laughs.

  “Hey!”

  “Is he always like this?” Oric asks.

  “Not always,” says FeeTwix, “but usually. Anyway, ignore him. It’s late, and if he’s not gambling or visiting the hen house, Hiccup likes to get to bed early.”

  “Damn straight, Twixy!”

  “We may not seem like we get along,” Zaena says, “but we all generally like each other, some more than others.”

  Enway chuckles. “Don’t look at me. I’m not part of the group yet. I haven’t been vetted either.”

  Hiccup throws his hands in the air. “Fick it, he can join the guild. I give up. Not on Elfy though, she’s still getting vetted.”

  “Baka!” Ryuk whispers under his breath.

  “Join your guild?” Oric’s expression turns dark. “Not interested.”

  “Good for me. Fick you and your dirty mutt. Twixy, got another headlamp?”

  FeeTwix nods and the headlamp appears in his hand. The goblin waddles over to him, swipes it out of his hand, and once it is secured and he has made sure his pink hair doesn’t look bad, Hiccup goes over to the cliffside, finds a perch, and pulls a copy of the Tritanian Times out of thin air.

  He makes a point to open to the jobs section and starts perusing the “Help Wanted” page.

  A sudden realization flashes across Enway’s face. “You … you have Emil’s Sickness, don’t you?”

  “Maybe,” says Oric. “I’m not familiar with many of the sicknesses of this world.”

  “Do you mind if I examine you?”

  Hiccup laughs from his perch. “Hell no he doesn’t!”

  “Um, sure.” Wolf looks up at Enway as she circles around the pile of dog food and over to his master. “Relax, boy,” the warrior says under his breath.

  “Let me see your arm.”

  Oric shows her his exposed arm. Healing magic sprinkles from her fingertips as she touches him, and as she predicted, her healing power has no effect on him.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally says, her eyes filling with concern, “I don’t know how to cure this.”

  “Look no further!” FeeTwix points a finger in the air. “First person to tell me a cure for Emil’s Sickness gets an exclusive selfie of me and a one hundred dollar gift certificate to McStarbucks!” His eyes flash as he begins reading messages. “I see! Interesting. Ooo, risqué – can’t do that one! Uh-huh … uh-huh … that’s not too hard! Boom, done! All right, everybody, it looks like the Mitherfickers are heading to Lake Klattenhoff!”

  “Lake Klattenhoff?” Ryuk asks.

  “It’s where we’ll find the cure to Emil’s Sickness, according to, oh, about two thousand of my fans.”

  “What? Are you out of your mind, Twixy? We’re helping this fickin’ jabroni?”

  “That’s just the kind of Mitherfickers we are!” FeeTwix offers Oric his biggest, most sincere, shit-eating grin. “Give me a moment as I consult with my colleagues.”

  “By all means,” Oric says, still hunched over. Ryuk senses that he’s still ready to pounce if need be, but he also appears relatively happy that he won’t be forced to fight.

  “Ryuk. Babe.” FeeTwix waves the two over to Hiccup.

  Meanwhile, Enway stays near Oric, still examining his illness. Ryuk stops and admires her for a moment, appreciating that she’s trying even though she knows all hope is lost.

  Tamana is like that.

  ‘Was’ like that, he reminds himself bitterly.

  “What the fick, Twixy?” Hiccup asks as soon as the Swede nears him. “Back me up here, Marbles, the Mitherfickers got places to go and people to see. We’re not taking on charity cases. If we were, hell, there’s a lot of work we could do in Jatla.”

  “My goblin friend,” FeeTwix says, taking a seat on the rock next to Hiccup. He places his arm around his shoulders.

  “It’s Hiccup and, well actually, I don’t mind when you say it like that. All right, Twixy, you fickin’ charmed me over. I’ll give you my wallet and a handie if you’re nice. Joking, Liz, don’t get pouty. I’m not touching his chalupa. Give me the lowdown, Twixy.”

  “So it’s like this,” FeeTwix explains. “That man’s wolf–”

  “The wolf’s name is Wolf,” Ryuk reminds everyone.

  “Wolf is going to keep attacking Katiyana if we don’t do something about his injured owner. So even if he won’t join us, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he will, we’ll still be handling the town’s affair and then we’ll be granted access to the catacombs, and then we’ll get to Porthos, get the Knight’s attention, and save this world and our world.”

  “Just like that?” Hiccup asks.

  “Just like that.”

  “I like the plan.” Zaena uses a ghost limb to fondly lift FeeTwix’s face up. She smiles down at him for a moment, before they’re interrupted by Hiccup’s belch.

  “Fick, sorry, guys. DD’s BBQ is burning a hole in my gut.”

  With his eyes burning, Ryuk waves the rancid, peppery stench away. “FeeTwix is right,” he says, once it is safe to breathe again. “It seems like the only way forward. If we cure him, we’ll stop Wolf from raiding the town. Everyone wins.”

  “Cool, cool, cool,” rattles off the goblin, “you three go, and Enway and I’ll stay back here. Someone has to watch Snowballs, that’ll be Enway. And there’s a little room above DD’s BBQ, a perfect place to take in the sights and smells, if you get my drift.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” says the Swede. “If you come with us, a fan of yours, one of the Fickers, is promising you a specially delivered box of Hopkins’.”

  “What size box?”

  “A big box. How does that sound?”

  Hiccup grabs FeeTwix by the cheeks with his grubby hands and stares into his jet black eyes. “Are you telling me that I ca
n barter with these fickers?”

  The Swede nods.

  “In that case, fick yeah I’m going! Also, Marbles, I still want my eight percent cut of the final loot.”

  “It’s one percent, just like we agreed.”

  “No, that’s the people who benefit most from the Empress’ most recent tax cuts. Ha! See what I did there. Fick rich people, that is, until I become one. Then fick the poor.”

  Ryuk sighs audibly. “Two percent.”

  “Three.”

  “Fine.”

  “Then it’s a deal! Glad I put all this together.” There’s suddenly pep in the goblin’s walk as he struts his way back over to Oric and Enway. “Good news, kiddos, the Mitherfickers have reached a compromise! Gladiator, expect to have your ass healed by morning.”

  Chapter 15: Doing Oric a Solid

  Rather than take Marty’s crazy ride again, the Mitherfickers decide to brave the night and walk to Lake Klattenhoff, which is a couple of hours north. As they walk, Hiccup and Zaena get into a heated debate on what racism is and how, while he accuses everyone else of being a racist, Hiccup is the most racist of them all.

  “What? Just because I don’t like elves? I mean, Enway is okay, but most are shady magic wielding poofty little kiddy fickers. They have dumb ears too.”

  “See? Racist.”

  “Don’t like Thuleans neither, although you’re not bad either, at least when you’re not messing with my hair. And seriously, Liz, there was a fickin’ hotbody back at DD’s BBQ who was all over me because of my good features, so don’t go saying I’m some sort of chubby little fickbag because I got the looks, the attitude, and the know-how to land a number of babes.” Hiccup grins at FeeTwix. “Boy fick, Twixy, you should have seen the mammaries on that one! Mamtacular!”

  “A female liked you?” Zaena asks, skeptically.

  “Why is that so hard to believe? Yeah, she was a bit of a porker, not my kind of halfling. I’ll be honest, for halflings, I like them thin. Orcs? Jelly rolls, at least six. Elves? Don’t like them, especially their ears, but I already said that. Humans? Depends on if they’re commoners or not. Also, I don’t like immiNPCs, but I do like Dirty Dave, because what the fick can I say? He’s a high-quality guy.”

  The goblin stops, scratches his ass, and continues.

  “Who else don’t I like? Beastkins? Fick no. I hate women with furry tails. Drows? Refer back to my opinion of elves. Dwarves? If they’re not too short. No one likes a shorty. Gnomes? If they don’t have hats. Thuleans, yeah, no. Sorry. Too hoity toity. Too tall. Too green. Kind of hot, actually,” he licks his lips, “but way too dangerous. Commies? Fick them. Ink shadows? Fickin’ ghost face killers if you ask me, fick them to hell.”

  “And that, goblin, is why I believe you are the most racist of the Mitherfickers.”

  “Whatever, Liz, there are people I like too. Like that halfling back at DD’s BBQ I was telling Twixy about. If this were any other night, I’d be knee deep in–”

  Ryuk tunes Hiccup out at just the right time.

  Instead, he focuses on the path that lies ahead, noticing little flickers of green magic lifting from the grass into the air. The entire place is magical, he thinks. With a deep breath in, he recalls Hajime’s oblique quote about forgetting his breath.

  He turns to Hiccup and notices that the goblin is red in the face from so much talking. Talking, talking, talking – it seems that Hiccup speaks just so there’s someone speaking; that, or he’s uncomfortable with silence.

  I wonder what would happen if I showed Hiccup what Hajime showed me? he thinks, remembering the way Hajime told him to visualize his breath. Breath in, bring in the color green. Breath out, exhale red.

  Of course, Ryuk can hardly focus long enough to even visualize the color, but he did feel better after the breathing exercise, and he will definitely be doing a breathing exercise before he meets his brother and his mother tomorrow.

  He shudders.

  It’s going to be an awkward meeting that will likely revolve around what happened in the apartment. Their mother doesn’t normally put her fingers in their day-to-day affairs, but when she does, she has a habit of quickly taking over and crushing any opposition that stands in her way.

  “So anyfick, like I said, Lizzy, I’m not a racist.”

  “You just spent five minutes telling me all the types of people you hate for a variety of petty reasons such as the color of their skin or their general height, yet you say you aren’t racist.”

  Ryuk fires off a private message to Zaena.

  Ryuk: It is impossible to argue with a goblin. You’ve been warned.

  Zaena: Let me try this then.

  She snaps her fingers in the air. “You know what, Hiccup, you’re right. You aren’t racist. I was wrong. Everyone else is racist,” she says in a way that actually sounds sincere.

  “Pfft!” Hiccup laughs long and hard. “You’re an idiot, Liz, everyone knows I’m racist. Did you hear all that shit I just said? ‘I don’t like giants because they are big and the color of their skin reminds me of the diarrhea that happens after a night of guzzling drorikh?’ I hate to break it to you, but that’s racist!”

  FeeTwix turns to Hiccup and his eyes flash blue. “Enough, Hiccup. You’ve really set off a huge discussion about race on my feed and if you didn’t already know, when any online discussion of race comes out, there’s bound to be a troll lurking.”

  “You guys have trolls too?” Hiccup’s eyes go wide. “Fick those guys. All of them are lazy, and most have poor personal hygiene.”

  “Yes, we do have trolls, but not in the way that you think.”

  The goblin continues. “Are your trolls greasy little-minded fickers that like to fick with people just to see their reactions and actually do this under the guise that they are being serious yet on some levels, they are being serious? Are they fat? Generally less educated? Of questionable hygiene?”

  FeeTwix considers this. “Well, I don’t know if all of them are, but that’s definitely a subset.”

  Hiccup pauses to consider this. “Damn, everything I learn about your world up there makes me hate it more. At least trolls here are pretty easy to kill.”

  He goes from a conversation about trolls, killing trolls, best torture practices for trolls, to a conversation about the various ways he’d cook Oric’s big black wolf if he were allowed to kill it. By the time the goblin reaches this topic, Ryuk has long since tuned him out.

  Breathe, he thinks.

  It’s a nice night, cold and breezy, and after he’s lifted his brown hood over his head to block the wind, Ryuk slows his pace so the three can walk ahead a bit.

  His Extreme Focus kicks in, and he keeps his eyes on their surroundings just in case.

  (0)__(0)

  The four Mitherfickers arrive at Lake Klattenhoff, which is smaller than the lakes Ryuk is used to seeing in the real world. Lake Okutama, Suwa Lake, Lake Kitaura – the lakes in Japan are large and plentiful, places to spend vacations or to take short weekend trips.

  Ryuk has taken a few of those, mostly when he was younger, when his family actually traveled together. He recalls biking around Suwa Lake with his brother, tailed by two of his father’s hired muscle. Not until he was older did he realize how odd it was to have security everywhere he went.

  But that’s a different life, a life far removed from where he currently stands, in front of quaint Lake Klattenhoff surrounded by sand dunes licked with frost.

  It’s noticeably colder here, and Ryuk comes up with the clever idea of palming a pair of molten marbles to keep his hands warm. It works, and he keeps the marbles gripped tightly as he approaches the lake and looks to the northern shore.

  A series of tents lit with lanterns are pressed up against the shoreline. A few herders sit around a campfire warming their hands. On the far side of their camp are several griffins, their feathers reflecting the light from the lanterns.

  Griffin herders, he thinks.

  In the spring, once the frost melts, griffin he
rders hold an epic race that spans from the top to the bottom of the floating continent. The winner gets an audience with Empress Thun and rare sponsored items. Last year, it was a Wendy’s Hut stuffed crust bacon burger helm that gave the wearer plus fifty defense and also allowed them access to exclusive eateries all across Tritania, famed for their food which permanently increases HP.

  “So where are the herbs?” Hiccup yawns. “I’m ready to cure Conan’s ass so we can get this show on the road.” A devious grin spreads across his face. “Plus, there’s still the issue of that halfling back at DD’s BBQ.”

  FeeTwix’s eyes flash as he scans messages from his followers. “Ah! Here it is. We’re not looking for herbs, we’re looking for lily pads. Apparently, these lily pads are baked and then beaten to a fine powder. Then we mix it with some food and BOOM! We have ourselves a cured warrior that can take care of his pooch. Strange guy, by the way. Something different about him.”

  “That’s because he’s not from here,” Ryuk says as he takes a few steps closer to the water. His Extreme Focus kicks in and it takes all of three seconds for him to catch some of the lily pads in question.

  “Not from here?” Hiccup asks. “Like one of you fickin’ commoners? I knew I smelt something funny about the guy!”

  “From another world?” Zaena asks. The Thulean has moved to the edge of the water and in a swift gesture, plucks one of the lily pads from the surface. She flips it up and over, and it lands square on Hiccup’s head.

  “Fick me, Liz, careful with the goods!” he growls, and the way he fixes his pink topknot tells Ryuk that the goblin is referring to his hair, not the plants to be collected.

  “Oric is from Unigaea,” Ryuk explains. “It was a fantasy world popular in the 2060s, so he’s a Player Character and, in a way, an immiNPC.”

  “That would explain the tattoo on his chest,” says the Swede.

  “Unigaea was a special fantasy world because of its mechanics, which made it quite frustrating. If you died in Unigaea, you died. That was it. You had to start over with a different avatar.”

  Zaena turns to Ryuk and eyes him curiously. “I’m guessing that doesn’t apply to my kind.”