“I am,” FeeTwix says. Zaena shrugs and Ryuk gives him the thumbs up.
“Good. Oops – wait.”
The goblin holds up a finger, vigorously pokes his belly for a moment, and releases a three-octave belch. He tastefully checks to make sure that he didn’t get any on him, and then continues. “I got a bit of a strategy as to how we are going to get the info we need. It’ll cost us, though. And before you ask, Lizzy, yes, the place may look all upscale and squeaky clean on the outside, but trust me … ” He lifts his bulbous nose to the city in the distance. “There are some seriously sick, treacherous, vile, dastardly murderous ficks in Aramis, believe you me. You two need to be careful when snooping around the Guild District. That reminds me! Regarding our place of restitude tonight – look for a hostel known as the Mondegreen. It was built by some immiNPCs.”
“ImmiNPCs?” FeeTwix chuckles.
“What’s so funny about immigrant NPCs?” asks Hiccup. “And no, I don’t particularly like them here but there’s no way to build a wall to keep them out, so what can we do? We tried holding them back at the borders, but there ain’t no borders, technically, so that plan was a big waste of taxpayer rupees. At least Tritania doesn’t have refugee camps or nothing. Although I will say, refugee camps are great places to meet desperate people, which I particularly like because desperate people are gullible as fick. To be fair, one thing I do like about immiNPCs is that they bring neat stuff from other worlds – guns, candy, games, crazy liquors, smokables. Pretty cool sex toys too. Too much rambling?”
His guildmates nod.
“Anyfickin’hoo, I want you two to get us a room at the Mondegreen before you get to snooping. Got it? Secure our resting place first, then start sniffing around.”
“Why don’t we get the room before we go to Bar Row?”
“Good question, Liz.” Hiccup scratches his ass. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we paint big red targets on our foreheads and walk around in our underpants while announcing to everyone that we’re new in town?”
FeeTwix comes to her defense. “Last I recall, you don’t wear underwear.”
“Too much chafing, especially on a long journey like this. I prefer an extra-husky asbestos jockstrap if the occasion calls for it, but otherwise, go commando, Joe. Dammit! Your commentaries are throwing me off track. Focus, people, focus. Back to the plan: so the Lizard Queen and Marble Nuts – okay, those nicknames won’t work, I’ll keep at it though – book us a room at the Mondegreen and after that, they do a little sneak and peek while Twixy and the most follicularily-enhanced goblin this side of Jatla line our coffers. Of course, we can communicate with each other over the messaging system, so if you do run into trouble, holler at us.”
“Same to you,” Zaena says.
“Good. So that’s the plan. Don’t fick it up, people. Let’s go! It should take us about thirty minutes to get there.”
(0)__(0)
The four Mitherfickers pause at a fork in the road. The path on the right leads to the back entrance of the Guild District; the not-right fork loops around the district and conveniently takes the foot-weary traveler dead-bang to the heart of Bar Row.
“This way, Mitherfickers!” Hiccup valiantly holds his pointer finger in the air. FeeTwix laughs, and shares the goblin’s pose with his followers.
“I swear, Hiccup, you are becoming the most popular member in our guild! I may have you do an ad read soon.”
Hiccup’s eyes practically flash rupee signs. He lowers his finger, slows his pace, and starts speaking to FeeTwix in a low voice about compensation. Zaena stays at the back of the group, silently humming a Thulean tune that Ryuk can’t quite place.
As they take the left path, a medium-sized dragon soars overhead, carrying in its claws a large crate with the EBAYmazon logo seared into the wood. Many of the scales on the beast’s underside have been plucked out, a tell-tale sign that it’s a rescue dragon.
Ryuk watches it pass with his hand on his marble gun just in case.
Before leaving, Dory gave him a gunsyakhai land dragon leather gun belt and holster. There’s a fresh magazine of black marbles in his weapon, and as they continue to walk, Ryuk loads up another magazine full of clear marbles.
The magazines are fairly easy to load. Just pop the marbles in until you have eight. With five magazines, he’ll have to keep at least two with alternating knife marble and black marble combinations. He has also kept his magic slingshot, which hangs from its original holster over his left thigh, just in case a situation calls for it.
Once the magazine is loaded with marbles, it is relatively simple to load and unload it into the weapon. To load, simply stick it in the back and pop it in until it clicks. To unload, press the magazine release that’s located just above the base of the magazine and it pops itself out. He’ll get used to it, and in the future, he should be able to do it very quickly.
The future. Tomorrow he will know how his affairs stand. Tamana is what this journey has been about since the start. Ryuk realizes that there are bigger forces in motion, and soon he’ll have to confront these forces. The ultimate quest. For now the battle takes place in Tritania, but if things go badly it could spread to the real world.
Bar Row is much more impressive than Ryuk remembers it being. In the shadows of the Aramis Towers – the dozen or so dragonscrapers that make up the financial and trading district – Bar Row is a series of high-priced pubs, dirty dive bars, and narcotized nightclubs set along a horseshoe shaped road.
“Where to start, where to start?” Hiccup asks. “He’ll do!” The goblin strolls over to a drunken NPC scout passed out against an overfilled rubbish bin. “Hey, buddy.” He gives the drunk a soft kick. The drunk grumbles, falls to his side, wipes saliva from his lips. He pulls his knees to his chest, leaving one hand with exposed fingers on the dirt. “You don’t happen to have a glass of cold water in your list, do you?” Hiccup asks FeeTwix.
“Nope.”
“Well shit.”
“I can stand him up with my konoshlo,” Zaena offers.
“He’ll just fall down again. Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.” Hiccup drives the heel of his boot down onto the drunk’s fingers and Ryuk cringes at the snap and crackle.
FeeTwix’s eyes flash blue. “Crap, Hiccup! Warn me next time before you do something like that! I got viewers that are very anti-torture.”
“Well, the fickin’ delicate little pussy willows may want to retreat to their safe places for the next little while then, ‘cause that’s how the Mitherfickers roll!” Hiccup turns to Ryuk. “You said we’re doing this my way, right?”
“Right.” Ryuk drops his hand to the grip of his marble gun. One glance around and he relaxes his grip – not a single digital soul seems to give two shits that a goblin is engaged in active felonious assault on a drunk, not even the Aramis Security Force officer less than twenty meters away.
The female officer wears black armor, an elaborate belt with pockets and cuffs of varying size attached, as well as knee-high combat boots with a single spike at the foot. A large crossbow is strapped to her back and a short sword sheathed at her side. The officer turns to them, sees what’s going on, and turns back to her post.
“Why’d you do it!?” the drunken scout cries out. “Those were my … my favorite fingers!”
“Wah wah wah, look buddy, now that I have your attention, I have a question I’d like to ask you.”
“Fuck you and your questions, you filthy goblin!”
“That’s Mr. Filthy Goblin and it’s an easy question.”
“Kiss my inebriated ass!”
Ryuk: This is getting out of hand.
FeeTwix: That’s one way to put it!