Fantasy Lost in the Otherworld (Vaylen and Kekse)

[Sarevok]

Lost in the Otherworld​

In the sky, the sun crested over the horizon, although it could not be seen. Rays of light came down from the golden orb poised over the world below. Its reach pierced the swirling fog that cast its grey, ethereal shroud over the dusty dirt road and the grasslands that stretched away across all directions as far as the eye could see. In the center of the road stood a single, solitary figure. Clad in black from head to toe, the figure walked forwards alone. Long black hair blew freely from the slight breeze that brought with it a chill in the afternoon air. A hand reached up and reached out, almost as if it was trying to pierce the veil-like fog that so obscured his vision. Blue eyes squinted but were otherwise unable to see through the thick veils of ethereality that blew through the air.

"So, its going to be one of those days then," a slight sigh from the figure as he reached up over his shoulder, touching the large blade that was strapped there.

An action that was as instinctual as it was one of habitual familiarity.

"Where are you Marcus?" a note of irritation in his voice was taken over by a sudden fit of coughing as he moved his hand to cover his mouth.

"Its not like I have all the time in the world after all."

It was then that a second voice pierced through the misty gloom in front of him.

"Oh but you do, Fhlaine. Why don't you stay awhile. Stay forever in fact."

The voice echoed all around him. It was a feminine voice. Light in tone yet tinged with a slight musical lilt to it that made it sound exotic in speech. The man dressed in black reached up then, sliding the sword on his back from the clasps that held it there. It came free with a metallic hiss as he brought it forward, balancing it to both hands. The man, referred to as Fhlaine by the voice, looked both left and right, yet he could not see anything aside the tendrils of fog that almost seemed to consumed him. He bore his blade left, and he bore it right, but still nothing could be seen apart from the almost endless fog that seemed like it had sprung up from the very depths of the underworld itself.

"It seems like I have some company," his icy cold blue eyes closed slightly, focussing on a pocket of land in front of him.

There, he could see something. It was blurry, almost indistinct even, almost impossible to make out in the limited visibility. But it was there. A slight, hunchbacked shadow that was slowly, but surely, making its way towards him. It was small, but in this land one could not make any assumptions regarding the size of one's adversary. Fhlaine had come to learn, painfully but surely, that such base hubris would bring about nothing but the surety of one's downfall.

"Come now," he continued, his voice sure and strong in both purpose and tone.

"There is no need for senseless hostility, is there? Why can't we just get along, then we both get to walk away from this encounter?"

It was going to attack, of that Fhlaine was sure. The way it was set, and the way it crept forwards slowly had left him with absolutely no doubt in that hostility was its ultimate intention. But then, most things on the road in this damnable land were of the same bent. Fhlaine's talking it to it was nothing more than a means to buy himself time to set himself into position before the inevitable assault. Such was his way. The shadow crept forwards another couple of steps and stopped suddenly. Fhlaine crouched slightly, holding his blade out in front of him. There, the two of them stood, poised and frozen in time itself. And as singular grains of sand fell through the hourglass piece, seconds became minutes. There, they stood, neither moving, neither backing down.

"Are we going to stand here all day, or are you going to....."

Fhlaine began, but he never finished his sentence, and the words unspoken drifted into the ether itself, lost amidst the echoes of an eternity that would never come to be. The shadow flung itself forwards, but Fhlaine was ready. He had expected the sudden attack, even as he had correctly ascertained the identity of his foe. He moved, rolling to one side as the silhouette flashed overhead. Landing on his feet, Fhlaine shifted the balance from his left foot to his right side as he turned a half-centimetre. The edge of his sword met sudden resistance as the form impaled itself on it. With a soft gurgle and a hiss, the form which he could clearly see now pressed itself forwards, burying itself ever deeper on the metallic tip of his blade. Two gnarled, green hands twisted into claws tried to rip and gouge, but even as Fhlaine kept his grip on his sword he took a step backwards, setting himself in with the heel of his foot. It came closer, and closer, razor sharp fingernails coming within an inch of tearing skin from bone.

"Not....giving.....an.....inch," Fhlaine grunted.

And then it stopped, and its arms fell limply to its side. The light faded from its watery yellow eyes. It was with a small sigh that Fhlaine casually used his boot to push the creature off his sword. It was small, with green skin and long, pointed ears. Its eyes gazed up at him sightlessly. Its face was cris-crossed with a variety of cuts and scars. Some of them were shallow, yet others obviously cut deep.

"Goblin. After all that, just a measy goblin," Fhlaine glanced down to his right hand, and the watch-like strap that was fastened around it.

Where the watch face would be was a small, square screen which flashed up with a series of figures in luminous green lettering. 5 XP. Fhlaine shook his head and knelt down next to the body. It was barely even worth the effort. Still, he would have a look and see if there was anything worth scavenging on it. It was wearing a suite of tattered, torn leather armour and leggings. A brief search of it yielded nothing obvious. Fhlaine was about to stand when the voice spoke again.

"You didn't think that was it, did you Fhlaine?"

He grimaced, bringing his sword to bear once more. The fog had started to clear now, but although he could see more of the rolling green grasslands that appeared in the distance, he could not see anything of the mysterious speaker.

"Oh, so its like that is it," he called out. "Well why don't you step out and introduce yourself. If we're going to try and kill each other don't you think we should be at least on a first name basis with each other?"

Nothing in response, but a crunching sound behind him clued him in on the attack. Turning suddenly and dropping into a stance, Fhlaine was dismayed to see.....one, two, three, four of the spindly, little goblin-like creatures on one side. And then gurgling laughter to his left. Turning his head, whilst trying to keep a sharp gaze on the four in front of him, Fhlaine saw another three goblins approach him from his left side.

"You send your creatures in to kill me, but you won't show yourself?"

The voice, whoever or whatever it was, did not respond. And Fhlaine, for his part, began to circle warily as the seven creatures began to close in on him from each direction.

"Where are you Marcus? I could really use a caster right about now."

To his credit, there was only a slight tinge of desperation in his voice....

 

[Kekse]

Crystal blue eyes peeked out from the darkness which filled the inner reaches of the playground tube slide. Beads of sweat crept downward, caused by the combination of running and the afternoon sun blazing against the thick plastic. The sound of footsteps crunching in the surrounding wood chips stilled the young man's breathing and he curled tighter around his vital parts. They came closer. His heart beat harder until he was absolutely sure his pursuers would be able to hear it. Those eyes closed as he prepared for hands to grab the back of his shirt and haul him forcibly from his fortress. Instead, he heard their voices.

"Are you positive he came this way? I don't see him anywhere. Why would he run into the elementary school playground anyway? It would have made more sense for the scrawny little idiot to have headed into town toward other people. Come on, Garrett. Let's go check the bowling alley instead."

From farther away came the reply. "Whatever, man. We can just catch him tomorrow when he gets out of class. I'm freaking starving and tired of chasing him." It was followed by a dramatic sigh and the retreating sound of the crunching wood chips. Eric waited a long time, the pounding of his heart the only company he had in the dim red light of his prison fortress. How long had passed he did not know, but eventually the cramping in his legs forced him to shift his position and deliver to the exit of the slide. He cast his gaze around the playground, his eyes full of suspicion in case the enemy had chosen to hide themselves away somewhere as a ruse. However, it appeared they really had given up their hunt for the day.

Eric's blonde curls had been pasted to his forehead and hung limply around the rest of his head, heavy with sweat. Dark patches marred his shirt and the straps of his backpack in his arms felt clammy when the fresh air wicked away the heat, leaving only the moisture. Be that as it may, he swung the dirty pack over his shoulder and skulked out of the playground toward the apartment complex which was his home.

He paused at each corner, staring down each new street as far as his eyesight would allow before nodding and rushing to the next juncture. Effects of the heat mingled with the asthma which plagued his lungs forced Eric to slow, lightheadedness threatening to overcome him if he didn't pause. Which he did, taking advantage of the moment to again examine his surroundings. He had reached the home of his childhood best friend, boarded and broken windows staring back at him like angry jaws which strained to consume him in waves of sharp grief.

Despite the unpleasant memories, the dilapidated building meant Eric was only a block away from the safety of his own home. He pulled in a lungful of fresh, cool air, and leaned slightly forward as he ran the last two minutes at his top speed. His hand fished through the various odds and ends in his pocket in search of the elusive house key as he approached, which eventually materialized just in time to be shoved into the small hole and turned.

Only darkness greeted him. Not the faintest amount of surprise flickered on his features as Eric tossed his bag on the worn out fabric of the saggy blue sofa and flicked the light switch. A single bulb of four came to life, to which Eric glanced, sighed, and shrugged. He kicked an empty whisky bottle away from the kitchen doorway and opened the fridge, frowned at the lone bottle of ketchup, and closed it again. "I thought Mom was going grocery shopping today...I guess not," he grumbled. "Good thing I grabbed that extra handful of granola bars from the cafeteria this morning." So it was that he pulled a pair of granola bars from the backpack and retreated to his room, ensuring he turned off the light in the living room before closing his bedroom door.

It wouldn't do to waste electricity.

The bedroom contained little more than a solid wooden dresser which bore the scars of years of abuse, a mattress on a rickety metal frame, and a pile of clothing in a basket in the corner. And on top of the dresser perched the fruit of an entire summer's hard labor: the most up-to-date virtual headset available to the consumer market. Eric crammed the first granola bar in his mouth in its entirety, freeing his hands to carefully pick up the device and pull it into place. At first glance, it could have been merely a pair of blacked-out goggles with a battery pack attached to the strap along the back of his head; however, it was actually a marvel of technology. "VRBO, activate!"

~~~
Marcus opened his eyes, the familiar surroundings of his castle-themed mansion filling his heart with joy. This. This was where he belonged. He smoothed the calf-length silver hair which settled in brilliant contrast to his magenta robes and spun the wand in his hand which glowed with power. A glance out the window revealed a darkened sky and very little else, the bustling village at the bottom of the hill completely obscured by rolling fog.

Despite having visited the shop yesterday, the caster opened his pack and sifted through the brightly colored contents. Healing potions, mana potions, potions of strength, invisibility, invulnerability, skill boosting...everything a well-prepared magic wielder might reasonably be expected to carry with them. The second pocket held poisons of every type, while the third held all manner of crafting materials. "Oh yeah. I needed to dump this crap down in the cellar. I better do that before I head out to meet up with Flhaine. The last thing I need is to show up with my bag nearly full so I have to derail everything to visit a banker." The caster bounced down the stone stairs of the tower keep all the way down into the cellar, which glowed warm with the light of the forge. A questioning hoot greeted him, brushing a smile onto his face. "Yes, Mateo. Obviously you're coming with me."

He casually waved his wand at the snowy owl's cage and it burst open, immediately freeing the bird who made a lap of the room before landing on her master's shoulder. Marcus ruffled her feathers fondly and strolled over to the collection of chests on the north wall, opened the golden one in front of the others, and emptied the crafting materials into it. The chest began to glow and within moments, the materials had been sorted into the appropriate storage unit on the wall.

Marcus was double checking his notifications when his eyes flickered to the group indicator at the top right of his vision. Fhlaine's name was, as always, the only one there, but it flashed an angry red. "Crap, did he go out without me?! I know I was late getting home, but I didn't think I was late enough for him to leave me behind!" He held out his hand to a jeweled display case in the corner and it released a gnarled wooden staff, the head of which was carved into an ornate dragon holding a glowing purple orb in its mouth. Another hand gesture pulled open his map and he scanned the familiar landscapes for his friend's indicator...which was deep into their unexplored territory.

A curse slipped from his lips and he closed all the indicators. "Come on, Mateo. Let's go rescue a warrior." He snapped and disappeared from the room, blackness taking over all five of his senses before snapping him into the grey surroundings of a foggy field. The owl hooted softly and clung to the magenta robe, his wings raised to allow better balance as the caster sprinted toward the indicator that had appeared now that his friend was within range.

Freshly-slaughtered goblin corpses littered the path before him. Their sightless eyes stared into his soul, sending a shudder down Marcus' spine. He rolled them over with his boot, noting that they'd already been looted, and carried on into the mist. It undulated and whirled around him, disallowing his efforts to locate his friend. He took a few more steps before smacking his forehead and tapping the base of his staff against the stones beneath his feet. "Why am I dealing with this bull? I'm a freaking magic wielder. I don't have to deal with the weather!" Secure in the knowledge that his pack held more than enough supplies to restore his energy after a spell which wasn't entirely necessary, he cast Clear around him and immediately, the offending grey mist retreated from the battlefield.

And there he was, the large warrior to whom Marcus had pledged his loyalty. Seven encroaching goblins cackled and swung their little wooden clubs, surrounding Fhlaine on all sides. With a whirl of his staff, the caster pulled down a bolt of lightning which split and jolted through the bodies of the ugly green creatures. None of them fell; it wasn't a particularly strong spell, after all. But it did stun them long enough for him to rush to the warrior's side and begin bashing them with the staff. "Looks like you wandered into a little bit of trouble, eh?" he teased, the butt of his staff landing squarely between the watery yellow eyes of the goblin which had regained itself and rushed forward toward him. It let out a squeal and fell backwards, the little indicator on Marcus' wrist displaying "5XP."

"Ugh, these crappers are hardly worth the effort of killing them. How did you end up in this horde of goblins, anyway? Did they manage to sneak up on you?"

 

[Sarevok]

The lightning crackled to his side, and despite the fact that he was stuck in the middle of a horde of goblins, Fhlaine’s youthful features cracked open in the slightest of grins. He could almost smell the acrid stench of the lightning as it burnt its way through unwashed, stinking goblin bodies. With a flourish, he drove his sword forwards, skewering another of the spindly little things. From the other side, Marcus cracked his staff over another of the creatures heads and Fhlaine could almost envisage the bulbous green thing squashing under the force of the blow.

”About time you showed up,” Fhlaine smiled as he held his sword outwards.

The five remaining goblins seemed to behaving second thoughts about engaging the deadly duo, particularly as their skin had been scorched from the lightning blast and they were limping from the injuries that Marcus’s spell had dealt out in an unforgiving manner.

“Long story, but I don’t think they’re acting independently. There was a woman’s voice coming from over there I think, and then they showed up straight after.”

Fhlaine pointed to the distance, over towards an arching hill and a grove of trees at its top. The mist had cleared by now, and visibility had returned to normal. The goblins, for their part, looked to the twosome hesitantly. Then, they turned and fled. Smirking slightly, Fhlaine knelt down, wiping his blade on the grass to remove the green blood staining its metal exterior.

“Some things never change, the cowardice of goblins being one of them,” Fhlaine snorted. “If they’d acted in coordination with one another, they could have probably brought us down. Fortunately they’re dumb. Really really dumb.”

With a smooth practiced motion, Fhlaine slid the sword back into its sheathe strapped to his back. At that precise moment a sudden shuddering cough took him over. He bent double in a hacking, wheezing fit before it subsided. Standing back up straight, he shook his head. The coughing fits were slowly getting worse. He turned his back on the grove overhead, instead turning to Marcus.

“Either way, I’m not interested in the voice or where the goblins came from. We’ve got to head over to Evercroft, which was where I was heading before I got ambushed.”

Fhlaine flicked his head towards the dirt track that led in the opposite direction from the grove of trees.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there’s a new quest starting there. An extra special quest apparently. One that promises your own body weight in gold.”

With a broad grin, Fhlaine strode over to his companion, clapping him over the back with a robust slap of the hand.

“Can you even imagine the sorts of things we could buy with a kings ransom of gold, eh buddy?”

Fhlaine’s broad beaming smile was directed towards where the town of Evercroft could be found. His dark eyes were gleaming amidst thoughts of the possibilities opening up to him with all that expendable money.

Kekse

 

[Kekse]

A vengeful smile spread across Marcus's face as his staff smashed goblin heads like sad pumpkins. The lightning had done quite a good job of lowering their health bars, so a couple of blows was all it took to knock them down completely. "I just thought you deserved some time to prove that you warrior types can take care of yourselves," he teased as he spun around and held his staff like a baseball bat. It connected solidly with the midsection of another goblin who immediately dropped to his knees, gurgling before falling over. The caster stepped over the body and glanced down for a moment, debating if he could get away with looting it while the others still advanced.

He didn't have to consider long before they turned and ran. "That's right, you pathetic little monsters! Get out of here before we completely tan your hides and use them for our next sets of armor!" He listened to Fhlaine's explanation with one ear as he checked his staff for any signs of weakening or low levels of magic, but it didn't seem to need repair or charge. Content, he kissed the end of it and gave it a spin before reattaching it to his back. "I dunno, man. I think we probably could still have taken them. Goblins are squishy and we've gotten pretty coordinated. It'd take more than a few low-leveled minions to take the pair of us down."

Despite having seen his friend have multiple of these attacks, a look of concern still crossed Marcus's face as he waited for the coughing to subside. As always he desperately wanted to ask about it, but the more polite and civilized portion of his brain convinced him to shut his face and let Fhlaine open up in his own time. He swore they were getting worse and felt a knot in the pit of his stomach, but brushed it off and listened with a smile on his face. "Yeah, we don't need to go taking on bosses right now. I don't know about you, but I'm only set up for casual fights. I didn't bring supplies to take down a big baddie. But I totally read that announcement! Man. I know exactly what I'd do with the first portion of the reward, but the rest? Whatever caught my fancy in the moment, I guess. Like maybe I'd fly out and chill with you!" He pumped his fist, happily imagining the pair of them playing together in the same room.

After a quick check of his own health bar, Marcus turned toward Evercroft. The stupid goblins hadn't managed a single hit on him, which he took a moment to congratulate himself for. "Well, we better get moving. Pretty sure the event drops in twenty minutes, and I want to be there to start the moment we're allowed. I figure since I can't just open my wallet and buy my way through the event, I'm going to need every possible minute if we're going to stand a chance of winning. I'm guessing it will be a party-type competition? The teaser wasn't exactly very clear about that." He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out his wand, swishing it with a grin on his face. Really, there wasn't a problem that couldn't be solved with more money than he'd ever seen, right? The announcement hadn't given an exact figure, but the wording made the excitement boil in his stomach like one of his potions in the cauldron.

From their vantage point (and with the fog having been dispersed), the pair could see players funneling down the paths which led to Evercroft. It seemed that they weren't the only ones driven by the promise of vast riches. The breeze caught the hem of Marcus's flamboyant robe and it fluttered behind as he walked, which always made him feel more powerful and important than he really was. Flowers bloomed as he walked, a passive nature skill he'd splurged on activating with his good mood. It had been a completely useless unlock, but worth it in the amount of joy it brought him.

The moment the pair entered the city gates, they were immediately surrounded on all sides by other eager players. Voices echoed everywhere and filled the air with excited chatter and speculation. Topic number one? The exact value of the prize. Truthfully that was the top topic on Marcus's mind as well, but he was almost equally excited to hear the actual rules. Any challenge of his powers was a welcome adventure, as far as he was concerned. And an excuse to come out top-dog? Yeah. He was in. "Just a couple more minutes, man! I am way more excited than I thought I'd be. Hopefully it's not something too grindy, or something that can just be bought through. The devs are generally pretty good about that, but you never know, you know?"