“Twelve, an even number!” Hiccup bounces to his feet, pumps his fist in the air, and clumsily does a few air-boxing moves. “Let me go again!”
“Not so fast,” the ink shadow objects, “we will circle around and then you can go again.”
“That’s not how Natty Dread is played!” Hiccup equips a tomahawk and shakes it at the ink shadow. “If a player gets an even number on his first roll, he’s allowed to make his second. Everybody in Tritania knows that.”
The ink shadow sighs. “Very well, if you wish to play double-ups, then double-ups is what we’ll play. Roll again.”
“That’s what I fickin’ thought.” Hiccup scoops up the dice and repeats his pre-roll shenanigans. This time, he blows on the dice a final time before he tosses them. As they settle, a look of horror spreads across the goblin’s face: 2, 5, 2.
“Nine!” the ink shadow chortles. “Time to spin the Wheel of Dread, goblin-friend!”
“Son of a fickin’ warlock!” Hiccup says as he approaches the wheel.
“Just get it over with,” FeeTwix tells him, “so we can take our turns.”
Hiccup swallows hard as he approaches the disk. He moves it up and down a little bit just to judge its weight, sucks in a deep breath and finally gives it his best spin.
The series of items blur past a red pointer that marks the stop spot; they become more distinct as the disc slows, and just as it looks like the red arrow is going to land on question mark, it skips over and lands on the image of a bone.
Hiccup draws his ax and his small shield. “You want a bone, huh? Come and take it!”
The ink shadow suddenly fills the cathedral all the way up to the rafters. “By agreeing to this game,” he announces in a deep and booming voice, “you have entered into a legally binding magical contract with me. You of all people should have known this, goblin.”
“Me and my friends never played with no magical contracts!”
“I’m not your friend,” the ink shadow chaffs.
With that, Hiccup’s right arm completely disappears. No blood, no violence, no nothing. It’s gone as if it never existed. Hiccup cries out and pats the place where his arm used to be. “Fick! He fickin’ took it! You ficker! And that was my favorite wanking arm!”
FeeTwix and Ryuk both make the ‘Eww’ face at this revelation. Hiccup slumps his shoulders, drops his chin to his chest, and shuffles over to one of the pews. He lies on his back, his blank and staring gaze focused on nothing as he puts his remaining hand on the spot where his arm used to be. FeeTwix takes a few steps back and crouches beside him. As he speaks to the de-armed goblin, Ryuk picks up the dice.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The ink shadow diminishes to its former size. “Remember, the three of you have to survive, that’s all. Losing a limb isn’t as bad as it seems.”
“Like fick it isn’t!” Hiccup moans.
Ryuk rolls the three die: 3, 3, 3.
“I win again!” The ink shadow does a brief but tasteful end zone celebratory dance. “Looks like you are on the path to losing, commoner.”
Ryuk curses under his breath as he moves over to the disk. He places both hands on it, and gives it the type of spin that would definitely give him an edge in the Showcase Showdowns of the past. The Wheel of Dread spins and spins and shows no sign of slowing down for a good ten seconds. Eventually, digital gravity takes hold and the wheel begins to slow. The red arrow just barely passes the peg separating the skull and the question mark, where it settles.
The ink shadow sulks for a moment. “All right, all right,” he finally mumbles, “what’s your question?”
Ryuk: I’m going to ask him about killer NPCs. He must know something.
FeeTwix: Good idea.
“Okay,” Ryuk says, “I have one question that I think you may be able to answer.”
“Go on.”
“Recently, NPCs have begun attacking people in the real world over their iNet feeds. What do you know about this?”
The ink shadow recoils.
The temperature inside the cathedral drops, and what’s left of the stained glass windows vibrate and rattle. Suddenly, whole sections break free and whirl around the circle of pews before they shatter on the floor. For the briefest fraction of a second, Ryuk glimpses a robed figure outside the cathedral, its form outlined in green magic. He blinks and the form is gone.
The ink shadow appears behind Ryuk and whispers in his ear, “There are larger forces in play here. You’ll know the answer to your question soon enough.”
He reappears next to the spinning disc as if nothing has happened. Even as the windows rattle and the ground shakes, he invites FeeTwix to roll the die. “Your turn, Berserker!”
“That’s not an answer!” Ryuk protests.
“That’s the best I’m allowed to give you.” the ink shadow subvocalizes. Then, in a louder voice says, “You! Overcoat! Your turn!”
As soon as the Swede scoops up the dice, everything reverts to its pre-question state. FeeTwix rolls the dice between his palms and casts them at his feet: 3, 2, 5.
“Ten, an even number. Double-ups,” he says, using the word Hiccup used earlier to roll again. This time, he blows on the die a few times before letting them go: 5, 1, 1.
“Seven!” The ink shadow’s form lifts into the air and settles. “Ready to roll the Wheel of Dread?”
FeeTwix is quiet for a moment as he reads through some messages from his followers.
“Well?” asks the ink shadow, his form starting to grow again.
FeeTwix: They’re telling me to just barely give it a tap and hit the question mark again.
Ryuk: Worth a shot.
The popular gamer steps up to the disc and gives it the daintiest of spins. It barely makes one revolution, almost stops on a question mark, but at the very last second, ticks over onto the crossed swords.
“A battle!” The ink shadow is beside itself with excitement. “Good luck!”
(0)__(0)
Standing in the back of the abandoned cathedral is a female warrior with a bodybuilder’s physique and improbably large cantilevered breasts. The mystic warrior’s features are hidden by a death’s head mask; her figure accentuated by a painted-on fantasy onesie. A sword appears in each of her hands. A wave of iridescent light zips around the blade in her left hand; her other blade bursts into flame as she makes ready.
Blade Mistress Level 10
HP: 150/150
MANA: 35/35
ATK: 87
MATK: 89
DEF: 56
MDF: 48
LUCK: 6
FeeTwix springs into action with a firefighter’s high-pressure water hose and blasts the swordmistress with a jet of gold-flecked water. His golden shower attack does little to douse the woman’s flame sword, but it does leave her soaking wet and angry as a hive of hungover hornets.
Please be ice, please be ice … With a mighty THWAP, Ryuk zings a clear marble on its way, and the impact freezes their adversary inside a solid clear blue mass.
New skill learned!
Skilclass="underline" A Simple Request
Level One: 1 in 7 chance of a request being granted.
Caveat: Only works with a clear marble.
Requirements: LUCK > 2
A new skill! Ryuk would pat himself on the back if it weren’t for the fact that a fissure in the ice has already began to form around the woman’s fire sword.
FeeTwix sees his opening and springboards off a pew into a flying icepick attack; the blade mistress breaks a sword arm free, skewers him in mid-leap, and holds him like a butterfly on a lepidopterist’s spike.
Ryuk loads two black marbles and one clear marble into his slingshot, cries, “Instakill!” and zings them on their way.