“Don’t feel full,” Hiccup says, rubbing his hairy belly. He jiggles it for a moment. “Are you sure I ate?”
“You ate big league, Hiccup.”
The goblin’s eyes narrow at FeeTwix. “Are you trying to trick me?”
“Why would I ever do that, Hiccup?”
“The quiet zone, huh? I see what’s going on here, Twixy, and if I had recently eaten, there’d be a stain on the front of my tunic.” Hiccup looks down at his designer white tunic, which is difficult because of the rolls of fat around his neck. “No stain, no food. And I smell food.” His nostrils flare.
“Maybe Dave wants you to turn off your feed,” Ryuk suggests.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Please turn of all live feeds. Ding! Ding! Ding!
The voice is like that of a female humandroid.
“Where the fick did that sound come from?”
“Ah, sorry, Dave, and sorry, fans, I’ll be right back. In the meantime, be sure to check out my newest contest called Count the Ficks. I’ve had G. Todd, who has been running all my contests, see just how many times our favorite goblin used the word ‘fick’ yesterday. For the first ten people to get the number right, you’ll get a six-month TwitchTubeRed membership for free. Since most of you are already members, as is required by your cable/internet provider, your next six billing cycles will be comped! So, get cracking, count those ficks, and I’ll be right back!”
His eyes flash blue, and before Hiccup can berate him for cultural appropriation, a door that wasn’t there just moments ago slides open behind the counter.
Dirty Dave, his face as predatory as ever and his hair slicked back, steps into the room. He wears a bathrobe open at the chest, revealing a copious number of tattoos, so many in fact that his skin is almost reptilian. The main piece, a skull with gaping mouth and fangs across his chest, grins as Dirty Dave places his hands on the counter.
“How can I help you?” he asks, his voice that same sinister tone Ryuk’s heard twice before.
(0)__(0)
“Fickin-a, Mr. Dirty, or is it Mr. Dave? Davey Boy? Dirty D? Double D? Ha! I like that one. The Dirtiest Dave this side of Porthos?”
The level 99 weapons dealer grins at the goblin and the smile of the tattoo across his chest thins. “Dave, just call me Dave. Now, I know the six of you have a dungeon to get to, so I will make this quick.”
“Just let me get my checkbook out.” A quill pen appears in one hand and a binder of partially filled out company checks in FeeTwix’s other arm. The phrase Mitherfickers LLC is written in golden letters on the front cover.
“No need,” Dave says, “your items have already been paid for by the Knights of Non Compos Mentis.”
“So that rude biotch Sophia has finally come through with her promise,” Hiccup says. “I was fickin’ wondering when the Knights would hook us the fick up.”
“Quiet, goblin, have some respect for their guild,” Liz hisses.
“The ninja killer dude seems cool enough, as did the faun. Sophia was a hell no.”
Dirty Dave laughs. “I’ve had my run-ins with Sophia as well. She is a necessary evil…” The famed weapons dealer runs his hand along his chin. “As are many evils, if you think about it.”
Hiccup claps his hands together. “I couldn’t agree more, Dave. Now, I’m not going to say something like gimme, gimme, gimme, but, fick, I’m ready for my present, Santa!”
Damn, goblin. Ryuk glares at Hiccup, who continues to rub his hands together. It doesn’t take long for his glare to twist up into a half-smile. The goblin, while generally obnoxious, does grow on you. But so do warts.
As Ryuk tries to remember where he heard that, possibly from Hiccup himself, an ax drops down from the ceiling and slices into the countertop.
“Fick!”
Dirty Dave smiles. “Fick is right, Hiccup. To go along with your golden helm, which you still wear, correct?”
“Always!” The golden helm appears on Hiccup’s misshapen head. “And disregard whatever Marbles wrote in his LiveJournal about it, whatever the fick that emo poofty thing is. Fick. Where was I?”
FeeTwix taps on his head and Hiccup picks up the cue. “Yep! My helm. Always have it on, rain or shine, crazed Thulean or semi-sexy Mexican elf with red hot ojos.”
“Where did you learn the word ojos?”
“Fick if I know. I just somehow speak Spanish. Could be the fact that my parents are from El Salvador. Kidding.”
Enway crosses her arms over her chest as she raises an eyebrow at the goblin, an eyebrow he can’t see, as he’s front and center now, still rubbing his grubby paws together as he looks the ax over.
“This is a genuine Gilius Thunderhead Ax,” says Dirty Dave. “It will greatly improve your chance for a critical hit. While it has electric powers, because you aren’t a magic caster, that aspect of the weapon doesn’t work. However, simply equipping it will lower the damage you take from a magic attack.”
The silver, double-bitted ax is huge, nearly half Hiccup’s size.
As he takes it off the counter, the goblin gets into a battle pose and practices a few swipes holding the ax with both hands. “Fick yeah! A little heavy, and I won’t be able to use a shield with it, but fick yeah, Davey Boy. You done hooked a brother up again!”
“I’m glad you enjoy it.” As he says this, the tattooed skull on Dave’s chest bares its sharp teeth.
Hiccup eyes him funny. “Welp, that’s creepy as fick. As much as I’d like to stick around and look at your heroine-chic chest, Dave, someone has to eat your barbeque, and that someone is me. FeeTwix, rupees.”
“No need,” says Dirty Dave, “I will bill the Knights.”
“Fick to the yeah. In that case, I’ll double my order. See you kiddos in a bitto.” Hiccup tosses the ax over his shoulder, heads to the door, and kicks it open.
“The air is noticeably cleaner,” Zaena says as soon as he’s gone.
Enway nods in agreement. “It totally is.”
“You guys are too harsh,” says FeeTwix. “Then again, I’ve just learned to breathe out of my mouth when he-who-shall-not-be-named is present.”
“Moving right along,” Dirty Dave says, his eyes and the eyes of his chest tattoo narrowing at Zaena, “I believe the Thulean princess has a gift in store.”
“You knew all along,” Ryuk asks. “Sorry, dumb question.”
“Yes, I knew all along.” He clears his throat. “And there are more things I know that will be revealed to you at the proper place and time. Anyway, some new armor is in store for the tank of the group.”
“Hiccup’s not the tank?” FeeTwix asks.
Dirty Dave considers this. “I suppose he can take the most damage, given his shields. In that case, I’d say your group has two tanks, one for defense and the other for offense, which would be you, Princess Zaena.”
“Please, just Zaena.”
“As you wish,” Dave whispers. With the snap of his finger, a female mannequin decked out in armor appears. The armor is form-fitting, the tasset almost skirt-like and inlaid with incredibly tiny jewels.
“It is a work of art,” says Zaena. “It wasn’t designed by anyone from this world, was it?”
“You are correct. It was designed by Olivas, a Unigaean immigrant who still creates pieces from time to time. I believe one of the reasons it is such a fine piece is because he originally designed it for an illusionist named Sam Raid, who was one of the great leaders of Unigaea. She died before he could have the piece delivered, and when Oric, your guildmate, brought the Unigaeans here, Olivas carried the piece with him.”
“Oric brought them here?” Enway asks, looking to Wolf. “He never mentioned that.”
“There is quite a bit Oric hasn’t told you, but yes, it would have been six years ago in your world that he brought the Unigaeans. But that is a tale for another day. Care to try the piece on?”
A room divider pixelates into existence in front of the armor.
“We’ll close our eyes.” Dirty Dave’s eyes and the eyes o
f the skull on his chest tattoo cement shut as Zaena steps behind the curtain.
She emerges a few moments later with the new armor. As she takes it in, Ryuk pulls up her main stats to see that her defense has increased by a hundred points.
Zaena Morozon Level 23 Brawler Assassin
HP: 915/915
ATK: 228
MATK: 10
DEF: 225
MDF: 47
LUCK: 24
“I love it,” Zaena says softly. “It is an absolute specimen.”
“Damn, babe, you look hella great!”
FeeTwix opens his arms wide and Zaena approaches him. She stops before him, her hands on her hips, and with a deep breath in, she collapses into his arms. He catches her, leans her back and kisses her.
FeeTwix pulls back a little after she bites at his kiss.
“Ha! Careful!”
“There are people around,” she reminds him.
“You’re the one who fell into my arms, not the other way around.”
“Now,” Dave says, “I don’t have anything for you, Enway, but the book Lothar has given you and your new avatar should keep you entertained for a while. That leaves two more members, and a big Tagvornin wolf. For Wolf, all I can offer is some of the best steak I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.”
A platter materializes into shape on the floor. The top lifts; Wolf runs over to it and digs in.
“That leaves you two,” Dave says to FeeTwix and Ryuk. “We’ll begin with FeeTwix, as I’d like to save the best for last.”
(0)__(x)
“What do you get the man that has everything?” Dave asks, his hands now behind his back.
“That’s the same question I ask myself every year on my birthday,” says FeeTwix.
“Guns, blades, explosives – you can get any of that through your extensive network of fans.”
“Correct.”
“But there is a weapon not available to most weapon owners, namely because I invented it and I’ve kept its distribution network very narrow.”
“Go on…” the Swede says, his eyes lighting up.
“It was a weapon your hero Quantum Hughes once used.”
Zaena scoffs.
“Not to defeat your sister,” Dirty Dave says, “but to destroy Steam Enforcers. It is called the Almost Universal Solvent hose gun, or AUS hose gun.”
Dave taps his long nail on the table and a brass reservoir with a backpack strap appears on the table. A cable connects the reservoir to a nozzle, similar to the way a firehose operates.
“Another little hack I added is within the reservoir itself. It never, and I mean never, runs out.”
“And you just pull the trigger?”
“Correct.”
“Let me show you how it works.”
A heavily armored warrior appears in a flash of smoke. Carrying two broadswords, he gets into a battle pose and charges Dirty Dave. Without strapping the reservoir to his back, Dave simply turns the hose’s nozzle towards the towering warrior.
A pixilated liquid steams out of the gun.
As soon as it reaches the warrior’s body his armor melts away, followed by his flesh and bones. He screams in agony until he has completely dissolved into a puddle of steaming blood and fleshy discharges.
“Yes, yes, yes, and yes! Yes! Yes. Double fuck yes. I will take it!” FeeTwix practically hops into the shoulder strap.
He adjusts the weight of the reservoir over his shoulder, and before he can comment on its awkward placement, Dirty Dave shows him how to hold it so that he can pretty much, like an over-the-shoulder pump sprayer, hose down anything in a two to three meter vicinity.
Enway laughs. “You’re like a rich boy at his birthday party.”
“Hell yes, I am.” FeeTwix pretend-sprays the counter. He pivots, and turns to spray the wall. “I am going to fick some shit up with this thing, Dirty Dave.”
“I’m glad I can aid in the, um, ficking up of shit. Now, last but not least, Ryuk.”
“Me?” Ryuk gulps. He knows Dave probably has a pretty good weapon in store for him, but he has no earthly idea of what it could be.
“Everyone follow me into my shooting range.”
“Your … Oh, I see it now,” FeeTwix says as the back wall elongates, adding about ten meters of space to the room.
As if he were holding it all this time, Dirty Dave now has a shotgun featuring a revolving cylinder. The recoil pad has been modified to provide extra cushion, and the front grip is encased in leather.
“That thing shoots marbles?” Zaena asks. “It looks like…”
“It looks like something I’d use to take on an army of zombies,” says FeeTwix.
“Its design is based on the Armsel Striker, a 12-gauge shotgun with a revolving cylinder designed for riot control. It’s easy to load. Rotate it, drop a marble in. Two full revolutions and you have yourself twenty-four available shots. I recommend loading it with similar marbles, i.e. all explosive or all sword, but a mix would could also come in handy. The molten and explosive mix you’ve been doing would be especially brutal.”
“I’ve received a new marble since we last met,” Ryuk says as he steps over to Dirty Dave. “A gravity marble.”
“I wouldn’t put that, nor would I put your clear marbles in here.” Dave considers what he just said. “Although, that last one could be interesting.”
The infamous weapons dealer demonstrates how to hold the weapon. After he’s pointed it away from the Mitherfickers, he squeezes the trigger, which produces two clicks.
“The first click is the cylinder rotating and the second click is the ammo dropping. Anyway, load it up.”
He hands the weapon to Ryuk and the Ballistics Mage quickly figures out how to use the weapon.
It is relatively straightforward.
After hitting a small lever, he starts dropping marbles into the loading port, this time going with all black explosive marbles. Less than a minute later, he’s fully loaded.
“And then I just squeeze the trigger?”
“Yep. I keep things simple. I know your marble gun is triggerless and uses algomagic, but I’m a trigger guy. Squeeze and boom.”
A bag of popcorn appears in FeeTwix’s hand. “I can’t wait to see this,” he says as he starts funneling popcorn into his mouth. A few pieces float into the air as Zaena uses her ghost limbs to sample the off-world food.
“This is great!” she says as she stuffs more into her mouth.
Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!
Three targets pop up in the firing range.
Click-click. BOOM! Click-click. BOOM! Click-click. BOOM!
The explosions obliterate the three targets.
“That’s amazing!” FeeTwix says, popcorn dropping out of his mouth.
“You’re a natural, kid,” says Dirty Dave, a satisfied grin on his face and the face of his chest tattoo. His eyes narrow. “Now, finish the round.”
A dozen live imps drop from the ceiling and Ryuk lays them all out.
Insta-Insta-Insta-Insta-Instakill!
“Whoo-hoo!” FeeTwix shouts.
A live orc, a few heads taller than Zaena, rises from the ground. He flexes his muscles and roars.
Instakill!
Ryuk puts the fucker down before he can take another step.
“There is one last thing,” Dirty Dave says as he extends his arm and turns his palm around. “Your guild needs to level, and unfortunately, the ray gun I had in Aramis is malfunctioning. Therefore, I’ve turned to narcotics.”
Five bullet-sized pills now sit in his open palm. They are blue with a white stripe through their centers.
“What do they do?” Enway asks.
“They are leveling pills. Very rare, and very addictive. They decrease the experience points needed to level up by sixty percent. They will only last for the next two hours, so eat them when you get to the dungeon.”
.11. Dungeons and Goblins
“I really wish I had kept that collar on him,” says FeeTwix as the Mitherfi
ckers leave Dirty Dave’s Weapons Emporium. The Swede was referring to the collar he’d placed on Hiccup at the DJ Ride the Lightning concert, a collar which instantly dragged the goblin back to FeeTwix, no matter how far away he was.
His Marble Shotgun attached to a shoulder strap and now at his hip, Ryuk looks just about as badass as a Ballistics Mage can possibly look. The canister fully loaded, mostly with explosive marbles but a few sword marbles just for shiggles, Ryuk is as ready for business as he’ll ever be.
Unfortunately, without the goblin, the Mitherfickers are incomplete. And while they may normally go to the dungeon without him, a goblin dungeon is a whole ‘nother story, and Hiccup’s expertise should come in handy. “I could clear the air.” He points the muzzle of his Marble Shotgun at the sky.
“That could work,” says FeeTwix.
“It could also bring the authorities,” Enway chimes in. “I don’t know what type of authorities there are in Bluwid, but I have a feeling doing a little Arabic wedding celebration is one surefire way, pun intended, to bring them. Then again…”
“It is a goblin shithole, I agree,” says Zaena. “I know what we’ll do. FeeTwix, dear, please release your drone.”
“Release the drones!”
She smiles at him. “And once you spot his pink topknot in the crowd, hover over him and I’ll send my limbs in.”
“Excellent idea.”
“Wait,” says Ryuk as he notices more goblins getting in line. “You guys actually think he’s in line.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” the Thulean princess says.
“Yeah, but he’s Hiccup.”
Zaena nods. “And Hiccup would never wait in line when there is free food to be had somewhere else. Good point, Ryuk. Let’s check the back of the restaurant.”
“Are we talking dumpster diving here?” Enway asks as the Mitherfickers and Wolf step into the alley separating DD’s BBQ from a barred up pawn shop next door.
“I will release the drone anyway!” FeeTwix’s sticks his finger in the air just as a drone appears. It lifts off, and quickly clears the top of the building. “Just a little further.”
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