by Eddie Patin
"Come on, buddy," Riley said. He was still carrying the duffle bag with the eggs.
"No luck with the wyvern eggs?" Jason asked. As he, Gliath, and Riley continued to the tailor's shop, Jason paused. Peering across the street, he thought for a moment that he saw the strange forms of several Nothrix—the bug men that had attacked them back on Maze World—staring back at him, bathed in night vision green. The short creatures watched the Reality Rifters through the passing throngs of creatures. Jason could make out their weird, insectoid heads on flabby bodies and their spindly, spiky arms and legs. He saw the unmistakable strange wings of the creatures in various states of being folded up behind them like limp, fleshy fern fronds.
"Nope," Riley replied. "They're gonna be a hard sell. Our best bet might be to find a universe where a powerful leader wants to buy them to become mounts or something." The soldier turned to watch Jason, seemingly curious as to why he'd stopped. "What?"
"There are Nothrix over there," Jason sad quietly, pointing with his gaze. "I can see them back there ... watching us."
"I got 'em," Riley said, smirking at Jason and giving the man a pull to continue to the tailor's. "Nothrix have always been nasty frukers. They make a lot of enemies. They'll consider us enemies now that we killed so many of 'em back on Maze World." The soldier smiled back at Jason as they walked for a moment. "Speaking of which, Jason, Gliath told me that you shot Ghrag. Is that true?"
The leader of the Nothrix Reapers—the foul creature named Ghrag Chaukchew—had murdered Riley's hunter friends back on u408 when all of them were competing to collect minotaur hides. When The Reality Rifters had discovered the Nothrix Reapers' guilt in the attack, Ghrag tried to kill them too. It was during Riley's final ambush against Ghrag and his mercenaries when the alpha minotaur attacked and everything went to hell.
But Jason had, in fact, shot the leader of the Nothrix Reapers before rifting home.
"Yeah, I did," he said. "At least—I'm pretty sure I did. You were unconscious at the time, and Gliath was getting you through my rift when I saw Ghrag in the air. I'm pretty sure it was him—it sounded like him. I shot the bastard before we left; hit one of his wings. He fell out of the sky then I followed you and Gliath back home."
Riley groaned. "Well, you might have zapped him. I hate that bug fruker. He sure deserved it."
They arrived at the merchant tent of the strange and wealthy tailor, Athelos, and were immediately admitted inside by the tent flaps opening on their own. This time, Jason could actually see inside the dark space and the entity Athelos was far stranger looking than Jason could have imagined. The bizarre tailor floated through the air like a humanoid amoeba with constantly-waving, translucent tendrils—like a squid's tentacles, but more elegant—extending in all directions. Jason never would have thought of a squid's tentacles as 'elegant', but that's what went through his mind. Floating like something that was there and not there at the same time, Athelos had no discernable face. Jason could see the background of the shop through every piece of the strange and powerful creature's body. With his image intensifier—staring as Athelos drifted toward them—Jason saw the entity's form glitter at times when the dim light from outside the tent caught it in just the right way. There was more to the creature too: Athelos seemed to shimmer around the edges and have an extra depth that Jason couldn't quite understand. He didn't even know what it was that he perceived—it didn't make sense. The walls were lined with racks full of clothing designed to fit all sorts of different body shapes and species.
"Greetings, Jason Leaper and Riley Wyatt and Gliath Voidheart the Deathhand," Athelos said, speaking with voice like flowing champagne, partly out loud and partly ringing in Jason's mind. "You are just in time to collect Jason Leaper's new jacket. Just in time is a relative term, of course."
"Howdy, Athelos," Riley said, heading toward a corner of the tent and lifting a strange shirt off of a rack to look at it.
"Hi, Athelos," Jason said with a smile, approaching the strange form uncertainly. He wasn't sure how close he should stand. "So, my jacket's ready?"
"Indeed, Jason Leaper. You will enjoy this."
Somehow, Athelos seemed to reach into a space between spaces in the air next to it with a long, see-thru tentacle, and a dark leather jacket emerged out of thin air, hanging from an Earth-like coat hanger. With the agile expertise of many flowing fingers, the entity removed the jacket from its hanger (which promptly disappeared) and shifted to be behind Jason as if teleporting without light or noise. Jason's backpack was suddenly off of his shoulders and Athelos was draping the garment around him, holding the sleeves so that Jason could slip his hands through.
Jason felt weird terror.
The jacket fit fantastically.
Even with his Merc armor and his OCS strapped to his side, the minotaur-hide jacket fit loosely, yet it was snug in all the right places. Trying to hide his surprise and fear about Athelos's mastery of moving around him, Jason tested the pockets, collar, and zipped it up. The jacket was expertly-made and everything Jason tested performed admirably. It was also fairly light and pliable. It was hard for Jason to imagine this jacket being able to stop the claws and teeth of monsters, or perhaps bullets and knives and who knows what else.
"The minotaur hide is extremely tough," Athelos replied as if listening to Jason's thoughts. "Despite how soft the final product may feel, this material will stop a large degree of lacerations, puncturing by weapons like the slug pistol you carry, and even energy weapons to a degree. Being as soft as it is for your comfort, Jason Leaper, it will not help you very much when an opponent tries to batter you with brute force, but this jacket will protect your human skin from being cut and stabbed or pierced by projectiles."
"Wow," Jason replied, looking back to the strange, flowing creature and not knowing where to make eye contact. He thought of what Athelos had said in DnD terms: the jacket had slashing and piercing resistance, no bludgeoning resistance, and questionable energy resistance.
"Indeed," Athelos replied. Jason wondered if the entity was responding to his 'wow' or his gamer-geek thoughts.
"Thanks again, Athelos," Jason said, finding his backpack on the ground and putting it on over his new jacket. "Will you be able to repair it when needed?"
"Yes, Jason Leaper, when I am here." Then, the tailor added, "Your thoughts go to the minotaur Nargog." Jason didn't realize that he'd been thinking about the alpha minotaur, but he did realize that he was wearing the monster's skin. "Jason Leaper, you attempted to rescue the creature—as it was from another universe—by sparing its life and releasing it to a new home with a bounty of prey."
Riley looked up from a weird shirt with four sleeves and scoffed.
"Yes," Jason said. "I did. Did I do the right thing?"
"You humans are fascinating," Athelos replied. "Do you feel like you did the right thing, Jason Leaper? Did it feel right to you?"
"Yes."
"Then the answer you seek is already inside you," the entity said.
With that, the three of them said goodbye to Athelos and left, back into the street full of bizarre travelers and planeswalkers. Jason watched for the Nothrix again and saw a few of them glaring at him from far away. He definitely wasn't seeing things. Sticking close to his friend, he didn't pay the bug-men any mind.
After checking a few smaller shops to try and sell the wyvern eggs and perhaps buy more healing potions—both tasks unsuccessful—the Reality Rifters headed to the center of the bustling pyramid, toward the Bounty Boards.
As they climbed the obsidian steps toward the open and elevated interior, Jason saw the impressive, gigantic form of Zayden Skinner near the jobs wall with his new vision. The ebony man stood like a statue, unmoving with his massive arms folded over his broad, armored chest. The hair like flames that constantly billowed and fluttered around on top of Skinner's head was extremely bright to Jason with his night vision active, and the powerful man's eyes glowed just as brightly. There was a group of three humans standing there talking to
Skinner, all dressed in glossy black armor straight out of a science fiction movie.
"The Corsairs of the Astral Sea," Riley muttered next to Jason's ear as they approached. The three of them hung back to wait for the Corsairs' exchange to end.
"What?" Jason asked.
"That's the name of that merc group," Riley said. "Usually there are more of them."
The Astral Sea, Jason thought with a smile creeping onto his lips. He thought of the different planes in DnD. The Astral Sea—in most editions, anyway—was the weird, vacuous space in between that connected different planes of existence. Jason wondered if there was a real Astral Sea, or its equivalent. Maybe the ninth dimension? he thought. Perhaps the Astral Sea was what Riley had referred to at some point as 'quantum foam'?
"You have not yet fulfilled your bounty," Skinner said, his voice low and like the grinding of a mountain.
"We got the damned head," the speaker of the group replied with a frown. "Between that and the golem hearts we already got, that's all we can do. We need to refill our ranks. Malydamus really did a number on—"
"This was an exclusive contract, Royce," Skinner replied, his face as dour as an ancient carving of an evil god. "Your team has committed to the completion of this bounty. My client still requires thirty golem hearts. You need to—"
"We can't, Skinner," Royce replied, throwing his armored hands up into the air in exasperation. "The necromancer really fucked us up. We need to recover. Our numbers were decimated, and most of us have been weakened by—"
"This displeases me, Royce," the huge man replied with a timbre that rolled over the human warrior like a boulder. "This bounty was exclusive. I cannot have several different merc teams causing havoc on this world. The job requires subtly. The integrity of the universe must be maintained. If you back out of your end of the deal now, you will not be granted an exclusive bounty again."
The black-armored Corsair of the Astral Sea looked back and forth at his two comrades with frantic eyes, then sighed. "I'm sorry it has to be this way, Skinner. We can't finish. We—"
With a manic thrill, Jason suddenly spoke up from the top of the stairs before he had a chance to think twice.
"We'll do it!" he exclaimed.
Riley gasped. "What are you doing?!" he hissed. "Stay out of it!"
Jason looked back at Riley and Gliath, then stepped forward, striding up to the Corsairs and Skinner, ignoring the fear in his heart. "The 'necromancer and the golem hearts' job, right? You say the necromancer's dead and you need thirty hearts? We'll do it." Jason looked back to see Riley and Gliath slowly closing the distance to stand behind him.
Skinner glanced over to Jason with eyes that flared brightly in the man's night vision, considering him for a moment as if his outburst didn't surprise him at all.
The Corsairs of the Astral Sea sure looked surprised.
"Jason Leaper," Zayden Skinner said, his deep voice as clear as a bell. He looked down at him, arms still folded over his chest. Skinner's armor was ornate, and Jason remembered that it was colored like red gold. Now, it was mostly a shade of metallic green in his right eye. "You have taken your position in your team, I see. And you have become bolder." The giant paused for a moment, looking stonily down at him. "Very well, Jason Leaper of the Reality Rifters. Your team may finish this job."
Jason looked back at Riley and grinned. The soldier allowed a smile to creep onto his bearded face, and his dark eyes seemed to light up with the realization that the new guy had pulled it off. Riley had really wanted that job before they went to Maze World, but Skinner wouldn't allow it.
"You're the Reality Rifters," Royce said, looking Jason up and down with sunken eyes and an exhausted, sallow face. "I know that name." He looked at Riley. "Riley Wyatt. Your reputation precedes you."
Riley smirked. "That can mean a lot of different things, I reckon."
Royce Withers let out a gruff chuckle. "Mostly good things, kid." The speaker of the Corsairs of the Astral Sea produced a metallic item from his belt—Jason recognized it as half of a focus key blank—then hesitated, looking up at Skinner again. "Hey, uh, Skinner ... you mind if we give these guys some intel about the job?"
"By all means," the ebony man with the flaming hair replied in his deep, grinding voice. "Go ahead."
"Is that the focus key?" Jason asked, extending his gloved hand.
"Yeah," Royce replied, handing it over. The black-armored older man seemed relieved to be rid of it, as if it was a weight around his neck. "It's a blank. You should be able to use it with your wayfinders to get coordinates for your portable gate. It's a weird fucking world; a place wiped out by an apocalypse of some kind that left the whole universe riddled with weird creatures and aliens and monsters. There are permanent rifts all over the damned place."
"Wayfinders?" Jason asked then winced as Riley elbowed him.
"You know," Riley said. "The scientists that we use to put in coordinates to open rifts; with our portable gate...?"
Apparently, Royce didn't know about the powers of Jason Leapers. He'd assumed that they'd have to planeswalk through the more mundane process that—according to Riley's description—sounded a lot more like dimensional travel ala the movie Stargate.
"Oh yeah," Jason replied. "We just call 'em something else. So where's this key ... um ... the coordinates go to?"
Royce looked up at Gliath's panther face for a moment then his gaze met Jason's again. "Goes to a meadow in a place surrounded by mountains. You'll pop out right next to a dark ages human town named New Bozeman. The village is run by a crazy cult, but they're okay to deal with if you don't start trouble. We already took down our gate from the other side and brought everything home, so good luck with getting back, but hey—any help is help, right? "
"Yeah, thanks," Jason said. "Why would you go to a village with a crazy cult?"
"It's a good place to hunt gargoyles."
"Gargoyles?!" Jason asked.
"Yeah, kid," Royce replied with a tired grin. "The 'golem hearts' are inside fucking gargoyles. Nasty sons of bitches, too. Oh, and a word to the wise? We all took laser weapons there. They were good for undead and the necromancer, but not so good fighting the gargoyles. They tore our shit up. Anyway, the gargoyles attack the village every night from the south, so New Bozeman is a good place to set up a basecamp. Everyone in town is pretty-much insane except for the Soloster girl."
"Soloster, huh?"
"Yeah. They used to be the ruling family there or something. Be careful. Those gargoyles are tough and fucking mean as hell. They'll torture you to death."
"Thanks," Jason said.
Royce looked up at Skinner, who was standing by silently watching the entire exchange with fire in his eyes. The defeated mercenary spoke up, tired and practically holding his hat in his hands: "So, uh, sir, if we're settled up then...?"
"Our business is complete for now, Royce Withers," Skinner replied with a voice like grinding boulders dripping with venom.
Royce sighed and turned to go, looking back at Jason and his friends. "Take it easy, Riley," he said with a wave as the three men turned to go.
"Take care," Riley replied, waving back with a gloved hand.
What remained of the Corsairs of the Astral Sea departed.
Jason turned to Skinner. He opened his mouth to thank the big guy again, but was stopped in his tracks when Zayden Skinner suddenly belted out a low, rumbling laugh.
"I appreciate your bravery and initiative, Jason Leaper—the new Jason Leaper of the Reality Rifters," he bellowed. "You will go far if you are not as reckless as your predecessor."
"Thanks," Jason said with a smirk and a chill trickling down his back. He felt his cheeks and neck go hot with embarrassment. It was weird and uncomfortable to be under the admiring gaze of such an imposing and powerful creature. Jason was just going with his gut, after all. It was obvious that this was the exclusive job that Riley had regretted missing out on back when they were doing the minotaur bounty. He just thought it'd be worth a shot to '
snipe' it. Right time, right place...
"Snipe," Skinner said as if trying the word on for size. "I like that. Fortune favors the bold, Reality Rifters."
Jason felt a flush of embarrassment again. Skinner could read his mind. How many damned creatures here could read minds?!
Then the three of them stood by as Skinner filled them in on the details of the bounty. It wasn't very complicated. Part of the bounty had already been fulfilled: the head of a necromancer. There was a bounty on golem hearts as well, but this time—unlike with the minotaur hides job—there was no maximum cap. Apparently, the Corsairs of the Astral Sea had already turned in ten hearts, but Skinner required at least thirty more before the job was deigned complete. This time, they wouldn't have other monster hunters competing with them.
"But how do we take the hearts out of a gargoyle that's made of stone?" Jason asked.
"We bring a hammer," Riley said with a smirk, answering before Skinner could become annoyed with a trivial question.
A short while later, the reality Rifters were back in the street, weaving through the throngs of weird planeswalkers and mercenaries, heading toward the rendezvous point. True, Jason could have rifted them home from anywhere, but Riley had pointed out that while many of the travelers in the streets were just on their own business, there were also predators among them. Jason Leapers were very rare. The three of them needed to be subtle. Rifting in the middle of the Bounty Boards or in the street surrounded by other creatures would surely draw attention, and it was just a matter of time before they drew attention of the wrong kind.
"Are you gonna carry a different pistol?" Jason asked Riley as they walked. "That guy said that lasers were no good."