Fantasy Online_The Runestones of Tritinakh

by Harmon Cooper

  “Why are we going to see this ‘Dougbug’ anyway, goblin?”

  “Fick, Liz, read between the lines for once. We’re trying to find intel on the goblin shaman who has this fickin’ runestone you three and the giant in Waringtla were drooling over. If anyone knows where this shaman is, Dougbug will know. But it may take some bartering.”

  “I’m sorry. I lose track of what we are doing the longer you ramble.”

  “Did you say bartering?” FeeTwix asks. “Because that’s my specialty.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, Twixy. Let me put my feelers out first.”

  (0)__(x)

  “I will not give him a massage,” Zaena says, her hand on the hilt of her sword. “How dare you even propose such a thing, Hiccup!”

  Hiccup turns to Dougbug and shrugs. “I told you she wouldn’t be down.”

  Dougbug is a short goblin with a full head of hair and nice clothes too. He wasn’t initially too enthused to see Hiccup, but once he laid eyes on Zaena, his tune changed.

  From what Ryuk could gather from the brief exchange between the two goblins, Dougbug’s animosity stemmed from the fact that Hiccup was responsible for destroying Dougbug’s last relationship with an orc masseuse. Something about an ink shadow named Barry, and something about a massage gone horribly wrong after Barry tried to stick his chalupa in the masseuse’s ear.

  Such a stupid story, was Ryuk’s thought at the time, and he’s just about to tell Hiccup to stop being a dumbass when a message flashes on his vision pane.

  Hiccup: Fick, Liz, play along. What part of “play along” did you not understand from before? We need info, and unless you want to spend the rest of the night trying to shake loose some intel in the mean streets of Bluwid – which is a lot more difficult than just beating up a drunk in Aramis – then you’ll do Uncle Goblin a solid and at least pretend you’ll give him a massage.

  Zaena crosses her arms over her chest and glares at both the goblins.

  “No massage, no information,” Dougbug says, a crooked, toothy grin stretching across his cheeks.

  Grease stains across his tunic are all that’s left of the fried dragon skins he was munching when they entered his establishment. Even though he was angry when they first entered, he offered some of the gluten-free dragon skins to Hiccup, who readily obliged.

  “Dougy, goblin to goblin, we’ve been through a lot of bullshit,” Hiccup says, getting on his knees. “And I’m here to…” He throws himself at Dougbug’s feet. “Please, please, please, fick, please give us the info!”

  “You purebred poofty fruitflake … get your ass up! There is no begging in Wild Cherry’s. Fick. Can’t have employees or clients seeing that you can just beg your way to success here.”

  “Please, Dougy, please!”

  “Nope, you’ll have to get your information the old-fashioned way: killing, cheating, robbing, tricking. Not necessarily in that order, but you get what I’m saying.”

  “But Dougy, that could take all night! Come on, do a solid for your old pal.”

  “I don’t owe you any favors, not after Jatla.”

  “Get up, Hiccup,” Ryuk says under his breath. “You’re embarrassing us.”

  Hiccup stops fake crying long enough to exchange glances with Dougbug. Not seconds later, he’s beating the floor with his fist and laughing alongside his old friend. Dougbug soon joins him, both goblins laughing and rolling around on the floor.

  “What in the hell are they doing?” Enway asks.

  “Being goblins, I believe,” is FeeTwix’s reply.

  “Fick, Marbles! You’re such a sorry excuse for a strongman. Fick. I told you this one was a real starfish sniffer, Dougy. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Ha! Yes, you did. Fick. I thought you were exaggerating,” Dougbug says as he helps Hiccup to his feet, both their faces red from laughter. “This one couldn’t get laid by his own right hand. Fick me. Where’s the other? You said there was a female, I believe.”

  “Tammy, a traitor-ass bitch. She’s no longer with us.”

  “Fick, I hate a traitor, but it happens to the best of us.” Dougbug shrugs. “Anyfick, like I said, massage for info. Sorry, Hiccup, no more favors.”

  “Fick me, Dougy, we could pay you.”

  “I have plenty of money.” His eyes narrow on Zaena. “What I want is a four-handed Thulean massage.”

  FeeTwix glances from Zaena to Dougbug. “Not going to happen, Dougbug, that’s my girlfriend there. If anyone’s getting a massage, it’s me! Ain’t that right, bae?”

  Dougbug’s face softens. “He says ‘bae’ too? I love that word!”

  “Fick you both, and yes, Twixy says it too. Says a lot of stupid shit. Sells a lot of stupid stuff too. Look, Dougy, fick, what do you want from us? You name it, you got it. Hell, have Marbles. Straight up. I’m giving him away. He can be a fluffer around here or something. You have fluffers, right?”

  “I told you what I’d like, Hiccup.” Dougbug’s eyes light up. “What’s that?” He relaxes some and stretches his shoulders back. “Feels good … mmmm … damn good.”

  His mouth agape, Hiccup looks from Dougbug to Zaena, who still has her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Yeah, feels really good.” Dougbug starts tapping his foot. “Oh yeah, harder, harder. Shit! SHIT! TOO FICKIN’ HARD! FICK! Okay…okay …better …ah, that’s the spot, Thulean. Lots of stress there. Feel that knot? Big league, am I right? Sometimes I have to take over for the orcs when their arms are tired…ahhh …lots of yanking…hurts your back muscles. Hey! Why’d you stop?”

  Hiccup points his mechanical finger at the shorter goblin. “Fick that. Did you just say you take over for the girls? You chalupa-tugging in here, Dougy? ‘Cause if the madams, or in your case, misters – pretty sure that’s what you call yourself – are taking part in the tugging, I’m fickin’ taking my business elsewhere.”

  “You can’t afford a massage here, Hiccup. Need I remind you? And don’t fickin’ judge me!” Dougbug growls.

  Zaena clears her throat. “There will be plenty more massages where that came from, if, and only if, you tell us where the shaman lives.”

  “Fick.” Dougbug runs his hand through his hair. “Fine, fine. You got me there. I know lots of shamans. Which one are you looking for?”

  The Mitherfickers exchange glances. Wolf, who is near the door, yawns and drops onto the ground to rest.

  “The goblin in question can cure Goblinheimer’s, possibly chalupa warts. Although that last part is hearsay, because I made that part up. Fick. Oh, they use a runestone, or there is a runestone around them. Something like that. What you got, Dougy?” Hiccup asks.

  “Easy, her name is Sugar Spur,” he says, a note of intense severity to his voice.

  Ryuk suppresses a sigh and fails.

  “What the hell is wrong with the emo poof-flake?” Dougbug asks.

  “Someone dropped him on his head when he was a wee little ficker,” Hiccup laments. “He’s been half-ficktarded ever since. Continue, Dougy.”

  “She goes by the name Sugar Spur, and word on the street is she can cure chalupa warts and has helped several overcome Goblinheimer’s.”

  “Fick. Yeah. Point us in the right direction.”

  Dougbug snorts. “You’re going to see her? Appointment only, Hiccup. The waitlist is at least a fortnight.”

  “No, we’re going to…” Hiccup’s pink topknot lifts. “Hey! Hands off the hair, Lizzy.”

  “Ah, your hair. And your arm. Things I meant to comment on.” Dougbug sighs. “But what the fick ever, look, if you guys want to see Sugar Spur and cure your chalupa warts, you’ll need to make an appointment. Luckily, Sugar lives in a dungeon on the hill to the northwest. Can’t miss it. You can make your appointment directly at the gate. Now…” He rubs his hands together. “Where’s that massage?”

  Instakill!

  Dougbug’s head flies off his shoulders, a splatter of blood staining the wall. Zaena flicks the blood off her sword and quickly sheathes it.

&nbs
p; “Fick, Liz! You weren’t supposed to kill him!” Hiccup shakes his head as he makes his way over to his old friend’s body. “But if I don’t check him for loot, someone else will.”

  .10. Upgrade

  “...And that, everyone, is why you should try Krunkin’ Kronuts’ new post-V-Day latte and Krunked Up Kronut of the month! Heartbreak, or maybe an October/November baby on the way, you can never go wrong with these yummy yummy donuts. Cream? Check. Non-GMO flour ingredients? Definite. Kosher halal vitamin-enhanced icing with added nutrients created in a donut shop with a focus on Feng Shui? You bet your fickin’ ass! #FeeTwixRox at counter gets you half-off an additional donut, to share with that special someone or to share with yourself in hopes of finding a special someone next year!”

  Hiccup pulls the Swede aside. “Look, Twix, I’m not the type that would tell their kid to not follow their dreams, even if their dream consisted of becoming a vape artist or getting a liberal arts degree, whatever the fick that is, but seriously, Twixy, we’re in the mean and dirty streets of Bluwid, and you’ll draw attention to us with all that selling nonsense. Read between the lines of what I’ve just said: shut the fick up. Also, what’s a kronut?”

  The Mitherfickers, led by Hiccup, are navigating the alleys that connect the shantytown of the city to the main thoroughfares. Wolf trails at the rear, not ridden by the goblin for once.

  Hiccup promised it’d be a shorter distance, but Ryuk is starting to doubt whether the goblin even has a vague sense of basic cardinal directions.

  They’ve been walking a good thirty minutes now, and while no one has challenged them to a fight, they have encountered a roving group of pickpockets; a handful of busty and busted orc prostitutes; a couple of bloated dead bodies; a good amount of bodily excrement; ubiquitous shitting holes; a few suspicious puddles; and several Wizardous fiends sitting on the ground with their arms clutched around their knees.

  “A kronut is something that you would really like, Hiccup.”

  “That sentence doesn’t tell me anything. We talking sour, tangy, sweet? Can you snort it?”

  “Sweet and delicious, and I suppose you could snort it. Also, while I have you, anything you’d like to say to the Fickers?” FeeTwix asks as he bends over towards Hiccup’s face. Instead of streetlamps, the slums that surround the city center of Bluwid are lit by paper lamps, a fire hazard, but then again, everything in Bluwid is hazardous in some way.

  The paper lamp above them twists as a breeze blows by, startling Wolf. He barks, the Mitherfickers turn back to him, and FeeTwix and Hiccup continue their conversation.

  “Say to the Fickers…hmmm…How many are there now?”

  “Nearly forty-five thousand, not too shabby, especially for someone like you, who doesn’t seem too keen on providing a steady stream of content.”

  “Providing content? What kind of doublespeak fickery is that? We’ve been at this how long? A couple weeks?”

  “Less than a week,” Ryuk reminds him.

  “Fick, Marbles, if I needed a virtual assistant, I’d hire one.”

  Ryuk turns to Enway and she grins softly at him. Something about her red eyes strikes him every time he looks at her.

  Zaena slips by, catlike and graceful. “I don’t care about what the goblin needs to say to his misled followers. If there ever were a basket of deplorables…”

  “Ignore the dragon woman, kiddos,” Hiccup says, looking FeeTwix square in his black eyes. “And I can’t say I disagree with Liz, you are a basket of deplorables, and if any of you ever want to dampen your chalupas, you’ll stop watching this ficker’s feed and get out there and get you some.” He points his mechanical finger at the Swede’s face. “So, stay in school, and if school’s too hard, bribe your teacher. Fick, Twixy, what do you want me to say? If these fickers started hooking me up in terms of women, drugs, and healing potions, I’d be a much better role model.”

  A goblin passing by on a crutch lifts into the air. He screams and starts crying almost immediately. Wolf starts barking, circling the suspended goblin.

  “Fick! Ghosts!” Hiccup hits the ground, his golden helm appearing on his head. Once he realizes he’s the only one that has hit the deck, he glances around from beneath his loose-fitting helm and narrows his eyes at Zaena.

  “Put your fickin’ konoshlo away, Liz!”

  “I will set you down,” the Thulean tells the suspended goblin, “when you tell us where Sugar Spur’s dungeon is located.”

  The handicapped goblin, an older man with a long white beard, realizes pretty quickly what’s going on after he sees the Thulean. “Fick you, lizard bitch. Yoy, yoy, yoy! Put me down, you rotten taint stain!”

  “Ha!” Hiccup slowly gets to his feet. “That last one just rolls off the tongue.”

  “Where is Sugar Spur?”

  “Fick if I know!” the older goblin cries out. “I was just visiting Dirty Dave.” His voice drops an octave as his eyes roll back into his head. “You should visit Dirty Dave too. His shop is two blocks away on the left. Now, please set me down so that I may get on my way.”

  Zaena does as instructed almost immediately.

  As soon as the possessed older goblin’s feet touch the pavement, his eyes return to their normal state as does his voice. “Fick you!” he shouts at the Mitherfickers as he scuttles away.

  FeeTwix cheers. “Hell yes, Dirty Dave has summoned us!”

  “Liz, we are going to need to discuss your enhanced interrogation techniques. In the last hour, you’ve decapitated an old buddy of mine and you’ve harassed a distinguished member of the goblin community, triggering a cryptic message from Dirty Dave. Now, I approve of enhanced interrogation for immiNPCs, but not goblins. No fickin’ way. We’re people too, you know?”

  Hiccup continues and Ryuk tunes him out. As they move in the direction that Dirty Dave has sent them, he recalls giving the infamous weapons dealer a few of his marbles back in the Port of Protla.

  Who knows what Dirty Dave will present us with next, he thinks as he steps around a puddle of blood.

  Why there is a random puddle of blood in the back streets of Bluwid could be attributed to a dead or sleeping goblin near the puddle, a discarded knife a few meters away, or a butcher’s shop in a yard that faces the street.

  Ryuk’s Magic Eye skill working in tandem with his Extreme Focus ability sheds light on a lot of things, and in places like Bluwid, it’d be nice to turn off.

  The problem is that he can’t turn it off.

  Whereas before he’d have to focus to get it to work, as Ryuk has leveled, the skills have become more pronounced, more readily available. Sure, he can “think” it into working, but it is pretty much ever-present at the moment, which makes things like normal conversations a bit annoying because he’s constantly seeing magical outlines around various items and people.

  “There it is,” Enway says, breaking his train of thought. The Chromatic Mage carries the same smile on her face that he’s grown accustomed to seeing. Her hair pulled back with a braid, similar to the way Tamana’s avatar wore her hair, tugs at Ryuk’s heartstrings.

  He’s well aware that their guild has its own priorities, and there is the overarching quest of stopping the Shinigami and preventing them from spreading to the real world, but Ryuk can’t help but tack Save Tamana on the end of that list.

  It began with her, and it very well may end with her.

  “This Dirty Dave’s is a lot less impressive than the one in Aramis,” Hiccup comments. “I mean, where are the fickin’ fauns on the top of the building? Where’s the big vault door? That said, I admire the fact that this one is next to a DD BBQ. Don’t mind if I fickin’ do, am I right? Who’s in for a fifty pack of Lemon Pepper dragon wings?”

  “They’re not lining up,” Ryuk says, his Japanese sense of order perturbed by the mob outside DD’s BBQ. The goblins have swelled around the entrance, a few fists and angry elbows readily exchanged.

  Just as Hiccup turns to join the mob, his trajectory is corrected by Zaena’s ghost
limbs.

  “Liz! What the fick? I’m starved over here.”

  “Dirty Dave told us to see him, not for us to visit his meat establishment.”

  Hiccup goes from angry to half-grin. “Meat establishment. Sorry, Liz, that phrase brings out a younger, more obnoxious goblin than the gentleman who stands before you. And fick, I’m getting fed before we go to the dungeon, believe you me. Maybe I’ll just put an order in with Davey Boy himself.”

  “Let’s just see what Dirty Dave has to offer.” FeeTwix is the first to enter the weapon’s shop. He’s followed by Hiccup, who has elbowed his way to the front, then Zaena, Enway, Ryuk and Wolf.

  Completely the opposite of his shop in Aramis, Dirty Dave’s Bluwid Weapon Emporium would make the Steve Jobs Museum appear cluttered. Aside from a white counter near the back corner of the room, the place is completely bare.

  “Where the fick is he?”

  “Maybe he had legal matters to see to,” Zaena says.

  “You know, Liz, those kinds of offhand remarks are what sway public opinion and generate fake news. If you ever decide to get out of the princess business, there’s definitely a place for you in the lamestream media. Am I right, Twixy?”

  Instead of responding, FeeTwix moves to the front counter. “Hello? We got your message, Dirty Dave.”

  “Hmmm, so this is the same guy who owns the barbeque place in Kayi?” Enway asks.

  “And most of the weapons shops across all three continents, and the inventor of wizardous,” Ryuk explains.

  “The narcotic?” she asks.

  “Fick, Marbles, what ever happened to the due process of law in Tritania? Innocent until proven guilty? Sure, we don’t practice that in Jatla, instead going for guilty until proven innocent, but that’s a case for another day.” Hiccup’s eyes glaze over and he bites his bottom lip. “Where are we again? Why isn’t there anything in this room? Twixy…”

  “Don’t worry, Hiccup, we’re… ” FeeTwix smiles as he pats the goblin on the shoulder. “We’re in the quiet zone. Also, you’ve already eaten. You ate so much. You must be very full.”