The Land of Trademark Online

by Nikolai Chekhov

  Who the hell dreamed up this nightmare? It’s like Indiana Jones and the game Pitfall made sweet, sweet love, and this was their baby. Explosions, falling rocks, poison darts, swinging on vines, and—“Shit tits, what is that?”

  I dove forward over the snapping jaws of baby T-Rex. I tucked my head and rolled coming to my feet without a misstep. Damn, I’m good.

  Another baby T-Rex crashed into me and sent me over the edge. Just when I thought I’d pulled off a great move, I got cocky. Earle would give me so much shit—my back slammed into the ground, and the wind went out of me.

  Holy shit, I am alive. Climbing to my feet, I found myself at an intersection without know which way to go.

  “Dammit, which way?” I asked out loud. My head moved on a swivel, hoping to spot a trap. Rocks tumbling down from above warned me the dinosaur hadn’t given up. The T-Rex jumped towards me, but a small shove sent it spiraling into the chasm.

  “Yeayea, boss, gud toss. But cha better gets movin’, ‘ere da good stuff comes.” I heard Earle calling as Amard passed me. Not even hesitating I took the other branching. No way was I following them, and now I knew which way to avoid.

  The run shifted gears again, and it started slow once more. Mostly dodges and jumps until a spear struck me in the shoulder and almost spun me off the edge. Two more spears hit me before I understood what was happening. Underfoot, stones shifted and triggered a spear trap. The trick was to step right or left. Not as easy as it sounded when I also had to dodge obstacles on the path.

  It wasn’t enough to dodge, because the spear flew agonizingly close to my head, and its passing buffeted me to the side. It took nerves of steel to stop myself from flinching, but there was little time to think—no time to plan. If the rock sank underfoot, shift left or right without hesitating. I refused to look behind me, afraid I’d lose my nerve.

  I was getting into the rhythm just in time for it to change up again. The path kept dead-ending at T-intersections forcing me right or left. The diverging paths were a lesson in preparation because I was forced to slow down or slide off, and each time I slowed I paid for it. If there are any true dead-ends, I will call bullshit—aww what the flaming pile of shit was this?

  Around a bend, I crashed into a patrol of kobolds, more like a small army. I didn’t stop, and by the time they reacted I was past them. By the sound of their yipping, I didn’t even need to look to know they pursued me.

  Grinning like a madman, I tried to find as many loose stones as I could because each one triggered a kobold scream. The kobolds became my reason to keep running, but they also served as my trap buffer. A few more sharp turns and gravel crunched underfoot—the solid stone floor was no more.

  Flames lanced out of the wall at chest height, and fire resistance or not, that would kill me. It burned so hotly I didn’t even risk trying to absorb it. I dropped to my knee and slid like an American baseball player. The kobolds weren’t so lucky if their screams were any measure.

  My slide carried me a good ten feet, and my momentum allowed me to pop back up and continue running. The jets of fire came from all different angles trying to catch me off guard, and I could smell my burnt hair and skin. It dawned on me that the amount of damage I was taking should have left me close to death. My focus was so tight that I’d absently been drinking [Healing Potions] and three of my hands held an empty potion bottle. Shit tits, how many of those did I drink? Hmm, wonder if I could get one of those souvenir hats with the two slots for a beer can and a straw that ran down to my mouth. I could sip these all day—

  “I don’t care what those sons of bitches say; these things are more addicting than [Meth].” I was so busy wondering about my addiction to healing potions I almost cut right across Amard’s trail again. This time she had a giant boulder rolling after her, and it would have squished me dead.

  “Yeayea, muddafucha, stop dat rock for us.”

  Grunting, I made no reply, just gave him my middle finger and took a different path. My adrenaline was through the roof, but I had to admit this was having fun. In a scary, death-defying, why would anyone ever do this for real, sort of way. Then the gods heard me and shook things up. Damn you!

  The floor ahead of me broke away, and I was leaping, scrambling, spinning, slamming my hands on the ground to help jump forward like a gorilla. I did everything I could to keep on a solid footing. The floor was breaking faster than I could move across it. I already saw I was lower than the floor level now, and it was an upward climb to stay alive.

  I cannot say how long that lasted because my focus and drive narrowed so much that the event would never get committed to my long term memory. Even after reaching solid ground I kept moving for several meters before I collapsed and couldn’t move. There was no run left me in; the race drained my stamina at long last.

  [Charge +13]

  [Dash +34]

  [Dodge +14]

  [Running +37]

  “Let the great inferno take me; I’m done.”

  #Lit_Dungeo: No I do not think so. You survived the run, but I would collect your reward and scuttle out the door. This tunnel will only last about five more minutes before it too collapses.

  “Lit Dungeo?”

  #Lit_Dungeo: I am, but you should call me the God of Dungeons or Doug if we are alone.

  “Uh, your name is Doug? Not that it's a bad name, just seems—

  #Lit_Dungeo: Out of the ordinary? Off-putting? It was my name before I became all this. I too was once an [Author], but I think I died while I was in the game. Now and then, I get flashes of burning. I think my house burned down while I was playing.

  “Wow, that’s brutal.” Bloody hell, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  #Lit_Dungeo: Be sure to tell that to your Dr. Soulstoner, he’ll want that information. Also, while Earle may be an asshole, he is my emissary, so please keep an eye on him. I feel bad about snatching Goro from him.

  “Ok, Doug I can do that, but I can’t promise I won’t kick him into a pit occasionally.” I could hear Doug chuckling. “And I don’t mean any offense, but that Temple Run shit is borderline sadistic. However, it was quite the adrenaline rush.”

  #Lit_Dungeo: Thank you. You should get moving. Your friends didn’t make it, and they will find themselves outside the Serpent’s Basin. If you hurry, you’ll reach the entrance before they appear. Just head out the portal, run along the edge of the plateau, and you’ll see a way to leap—or climb down. Good luck, and I hope to see you in more of my dungeons soon.

  “Thanks,” I told him sincerely. The dungeons were a lot of fun even if I got seduced by a goblin. I grabbed my [Loot Sphere] and stuffed it in my bag without looking at it. A slow jog brought me to the exit. Outside the portal, it was easy to find the way back, and from up here I could even see Butter and his cannibal gang. Speaking of assholes…

  Chapter 47

  Location: Plateau above Serpent’s Basin

  Climbing down would suck, and Amard didn’t have much time. She hadn’t recovered from the last betrayal by Butter; I can’t imagine how she’d cope with him eating her alive.

  [Climbing +1. You know another animal that can climb like you?]

  That alert almost cost me my footing, and it got a ‘Ha!’ because that was a little funny. About halfway down, I reached a ledge and could see the Cannibal Gang below. Before I did anything else, I popped the cork off my favorite beverage and sipped on the cotton candy flavored [Healing Potion]. The sweet liquid healed my fatigued muscles and cleared my head—until I saw double.

  [Point of View Shift

  Adjusting to 3rd Person Omniscient…done.

  PoV shifting to Nomar…done.

  Re-engaging vision…done.]

  “Shit tits. Why now?” I asked looking around and found myself in an open square or market, it was void of people, but that meant nothing.

  “Well, I have a quota to fill, and this is how it works its random.”

  “Random my ass—”

  “Fine, it’s not random, it’s whenever
the fuck I feel like showing them. Now, if you are done being a dick, we are about to witness Nomar’s influence. And…Play.”

  People appeared around me, a rather large crowd and all of them were staring behind me. Turning around I saw a large stage and walked through the people to 4get to it. Their incorporeal bodies dissipated and reformed as I passed through, which was creepy.

  Nomar stood on stage, front and center. His bovine strength on display. A condemned man dangled from the minotaur’s fist, and to show off he shook him a few times over the crowd. It was as if I was witnessing a concert or sporting event, and every time Nomar shook the man, the crowd cheered. I knew this had no happy ending; it has the distinct flavoring of a medieval execution.

  “The Goddess of Games has blessed me. It is through her I can stand before you and judge the worthiness of an [Author]. To judge whether they are faithful to her, and my judgment shall remain uncontested.”

  “Pause,” I said, and the scene froze to my astonishment, but I could see the big teddy bear sighing.

  “What now?”

  “If the Father is supposed to be the final say on the Goddess Ro, how can this guy proclaim that?”

  “Picked up on that pretty quickly, for a—”

  “Monkey, yea I got it, answer the question.”

  “Way to take the fun out of it, you wet blanket. Anyway, yes, this is one reason I wanted you to see this. Nomar doesn’t see it, but the drama and conflict are building. The Father won’t allow anyone to subvert his power, but Nomar kisses his ass. The Father tolerates him because he is a faithful puppy, like one of those annoying lap dogs that never stop yapping…” NPC stared at me for effect. The implication was clear, and NPC reemphasized that he was still a dick. “For now he needs Nomar. Understand? Good? Yeah? Then, Play.”

  The minotaur pushed his bull face close to his victim, and the big bovine nostrils flared out taking in the scent. A fat cow tongue slithered out and licked the man’s face. A hush fell over the crowd as Nomar’s eyes turned red and steam burst through his nostrils.

  An [Inquisitor’s Staff] appeared in his free hand, and around it, starbursts of power lit up and kept lighting up until four of the sparkles of light glowed strongly. A fifth star had started to shine, but its glow remained faint. The remaining five sparkles stayed dark.

  “Not Lit RoPlaGa follower!” Nomar shouted over the crowd, and they booed in a deafening roar. “The Goddess has spoken, this scum dares to taint her name with his scrawling. He proclaims she sanctioned his—his drivel. Lies!”

  Without wasting a beat, the cowman put his staff back into his inventory and grabbed the condemned’s legs. With a force unrivaled by most humans, the minotaur ripped the man in half, and then tossed the pieces into the crowd.

  A female approached as Nomar stepped off the stage. “How is it you can condemn those people to death, with no oversight?”

  “Daws, here for more verbal sparring?” Nomar’s bovine eyes rolled, and the tides shifted. “You should go back to your Chapped Men. The goddess was right—women are too emotional to be writers.”

  “We both know the Goddess said nothing of the sort, and that your own bias is influencing your results. It is highly improbable that every female [Author] has failed your test. I would bet the Goddess doesn’t know who the fuck you are.”

  “Females are the most believable when they are weak and emotional—when they need a hero to save them. Like right now, you are practically crying, waiting for a man to help you.” Nomar paused and gave Daws a condescending smile. “Tell your stories as they should be told, and I guarantee you at least seven stars.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Daws growled at the minotaur who was twice her size. “And you fucking know it.”

  “Women are better off making sandwiches and keeping their man happy,” Nomar huffed as he walked off.

  The scene fast-forwarded to another location, only I never moved. The world slid around me, and I found myself in the lobby of a nearby inn. I could still see the crowd through the windows.

  “Is that tea for the Father?” The bovine man asked a servant.

  “Y-y-yes, sir.”

  “Relax, I’ll take it; go bring the food.” Once he was alone, Nomar popped a cork on a vial and dumped the dark purplish liquid into the tea.

  “That’s an [Anxiety Potion],” I said, recognizing it instantly.

  “Good eye. Nomar has been feeding that stuff to the Father for months. We think it's the reason he has become paranoid and the reason he is having performance anxiety.”

  “Stop, I don’t want to hear any more.”

  “I’m done, the rest you don’t need to see. I wanted you to understand what the [Inquisitor] could do, and some of that was theatrics. He can catch your scent in a crowd, so don’t think you are safe. The other is the potion, so the Father isn’t completely paranoid.”

  “I need time to process that, and I got friends I need to rescue. We’ll talk later.”

  “Very well, monkey.”

  “Wait—why are you showing me this specific stuff if this skill is supposed to be random?”

  “Because, with you around, I have more freedom than I’ve ever had before. I have a selfish desire to see you exceed. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “That—”

  [Point of View Shift

  Adjusting to 1st Person…done.

  PoV shifting to yourself…done.

  Re-engaging vision and bodily control……done.]

  “Heya boss, whatcha doin’ up ‘ere?” Earle looked around but remained perched on my shoulder.

  “Shit tits! Did you just respawn?”

  “Yeayea, dat last jump was a real beaut.”

  “Time to go, before Butter and crew eat our friend.”

  Without even waiting for his response I jumped down the cliff face, grabbing wildly at anything I could to reach the bottom as quickly as I could. Agility was godly, and my new [Feat] was worth every trial we went through. Even better, I could hear Earle screeching in my ear.

  The cliff face had a lot of scree built up, and the second my boots touched it we slid down the rest of the way. At the bottom, I felt something hit my shirt that felt like bits of gravel and looked over to see little black turds shaped like rice popping out of Earle.

  “Oh c’mon man, what the hell?” I asked, knocking him off my shoulder. Screw him; little bastard could stay there, not that he was much help. Before I even reached the dungeon entrance, I could hear Amard screaming.

  “What’s she taste like, sire?” One cannibal asked Butter, and I scanned the area for others. As much as I wanted to run out and pummel those assholes, I was sure Butter had people watching the jungle.

  “My friends, we are in for a treat tonight. Amard shall forever be known as,” He paused and turned to grin at my woman. “Candy.”

  “Oh fuck you, you aren’t calling me some hooker’s name you flesh-eating bacteria.” Amard screeched.

  “Tell me, where is our four-armed friend?”

  “How the hell should I know? I died, and he obviously didn’t.”

  “Oh, but I know he is coming for you. Apple, Basil, Rye, and Cornbread, watch the portal, but be careful, Deuce is a wily fighter.” Butter waved his hand towards the portal, and drug Amard off into the jungle towards the cave I had wanted to set up camp in. Only one other cannibal was with him, but I was sure there was more of his tribe around somewhere.

  Ignoring those guarding the portal I quickly followed Butter and bumped into a scout. We both stood staring at each other for a quick second until I punched him in the face and then wrapped my arms around him while engaging [Immolation]. With his mouth covered by my large hand, he didn’t even make a peep while he burnt to ash in my arms.

  “You smell that?” Butter asked his companion. “Smells like burnt cinnamon doesn’t it?”

  “It does, should I go check on him?”

  “Yes, but hurry back.”

  Ducking behind a tree and down into some gnarled roots I wait
ed to ambush the man. At the pile of ashes left by the last cannibal, the new threat squatted down, licked his finger, dipped it into the ashes, and then tasted it.

  Shit tits, that’s disgusting.

  The man never even saw Earle as the squirrel jumped out of the brush and sliced his throat open. And just for good measure the squirrel ran up on to his back and rammed the knife through the cannibal’s spine, severing the nerves. The man fell limply to the ground, and I stared at Earle in horrified fascination.

  “Wut, I get blud on me fur?” Earle asked while trying to find any splatters before looking back at me. “Heh heh, boss fergot I was a [Mafia Don] alreddy. Ye dumb fuch. Nuttin like waking up to a [Centaur] head in yer bed, yea? Dats my [Trademarked] move, so dontcha go gettin ideas.”

  Before I could reply, we both heard Amard scream again.

  “Yeayea, imma gut dat muddafucha, but ye gotta admit, callin’ dat witch Candy was awesome.”

  For whatever reason, I chuckled along with that bloodthirsty squirrel. I mean at least he wasn’t a shit talking rabbit.

  “Ok, you stay hidden. I’ll confront Butter, and you go and free my woman. Once she is free, we can attack him or just run.”

  “Got it, but I’mma take dis fucha’s loot. I killed ‘im.”

  “Don’t give a shit, take it and get ready you asshole.”

  “Heh.” Earle said, taking the loot and scurrying off into the jungle.

  Chapter 48

  Location: Jungle outside Serpent’s Basin

  The jungle was void of animals, none of the snakes from before. The cannibals had camped here for a few days, so they probably killed everything in the vicinity, but the jungle’s emptiness felt strange.

  Egg was the last of the cannibals around the cave. Earle scouted a few times to be sure, but I hesitated to [Immolate] him.