Three large vehicles bristling with shiny chrome and rusted metal roared into view, crashing their way past parked cars and decimating letterboxes as they clamored up onto the sidewalk and screeched to a halt. Smoke still billowed from their exhausts as each of the three vehicles roared like vast monsters, shaking from side to side as their engines were throttled.
>> NEW QUEST: Class Act.
Now that you have configured a new class, use your newly acquired abilities to survive an encounter with a band of roving hobgoblins. You may choose to either kill, maim, or flee from the enemy and will receive different rewards depending on which option you choose.
QUEST REWARDS: 300 Belch Bucks [killing all enemies], 100 Belch Bucks [killing or maiming some enemies], 50 Belch Bucks [fleeing]
Three of the hobgoblins brandishing axes jumped off the rear of the vehicles and started lumbering toward Pete, spitting guttural curses and laughing with one another as they motioned toward him.
“What’s the plan here, Pete?” Coop asked, still running over to his right shoulder and staring out at the hulking figure. “And what’s with all the fancy doodads flashing up in front of me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pete said. “And the plan is to keep these boys separated as long as possible so I can pick them off one by one. If you can distract them and pull them away from me, that would be helpful.”
“I’ll do what I can, but it’s hard to concentrate with these damned symbols floating in front of me.”
“What symbols?”
“How the hell should I know? There are three of them, but they don’t make no sense to me.”
[Nero] It seems that your sole bound companion has been gifted several abilities that relate to your new class, Pete. She should be able to utilize these abilities and assist you in fighting the hobgoblins.
“Okay, but we’re not gonna have any time to work through it, and I doubt Missus Cooper will be as comfortable with game mechanics as I am.”
“Games?” Coop said. “Is that what this is? Because I can play games, boy. I was playing games before you were born. Solitaire, black Pete, gin rummy; I’ve played them all.”
“This is different, Coop. It’s more like a computer game. Each of those icons you can see will relate to a specific ability that you can use, but I don’t have time to help you through it. Just stay out of trouble and try to keep as many of these boys away from me as you can.”
The ferret jumped down to the grass and moved a little distance away from Pete. They both watched as the three oncoming hobgoblins stopped a short distance away, as those behind them turned off the engines of their vehicles and disembarked. The sudden silence in the neighborhood was overwhelming compared to the deafening roar of those engines.
The three figures arrayed ahead of Pete were each a head taller than him and covered in ill-fitting pieces of leather armor. None of them seemed properly dressed, as though they’d gone to a thrift store and, instead of compiling enough armor for a single hobgoblin, had distributed that armor among the three of them.
Aside from the gold earrings and metal studs on their faces, each of the hobgoblins had similar items elsewhere on their bodies. They boasted gaudy rings, bracelets, and chains with various items dangling from around their necks. The word ‘bling’ didn’t even come close to describing how proudly the green-skinned figures displayed their wares.
To Pete’s surprise, one of the hobgoblins pointed an axe towards him and began speaking in broken English.
“I sees a fleshy little meat thing,” the brute spat. “I eyeballin’ yous and yous make Grinko Maas feelin’ all squirmy squirm in the gut gut. Makin’ Grinko Maas hungries.”
The figure that spoke struck Pete as the leader of the band, given the fact that he was the first to address his enemy, coupled with the excessive amount of jewelry he wore and the skimpy t-shirt that stretched across his chest with the words ‘Boss Man’ written in black letters across the front. The t-shirt barely reached down to the top of his belly button, where bare green skin and a thin sprinkling of dark curly hair dominated.
Pete felt his leg wound twinge and grimaced in response as the other three hobgoblins approached from the rear. Six enemies that all stood three times the size of the goblins he’d faced earlier. True, he had three new spell options, but he still had no main weapon and hadn’t actually used any of his new abilities in a practical setting yet.
“Yous gonna speak speak, little fleshy man thing?” the leader barked.
Pete shook his head. “Wasn’t really planning on it, boss man. Doesn’t seem like there’s much point seeing as you basically just said you want to eat me.”
Grinko Maas chuckled at that, patting one thick-fingered hand against his belly as he held the large axe in the other.
“Grinko Maas is hungries and yous lookin’ tasty taste. We killin’ you real good and make up a supper for the tum tum.”
Pete moved slowly, almost imperceptibly to the left, edging closer to a nearby parked car. It wouldn’t offer much by way of protection, but it was an obstacle and something he could use to break up the group of hobgoblin thugs at the very least.
While he moved, he thought through his best way to get hold of one of those axes. They looked heavy, made from some kind of metal with a crescent-shaped blade on one side and a sharp spike on the other. Each of them looked to have been modified with various trinkets and fetishes that were tied to the weapon’s shaft, and they were painted with a variety of different crimson and white stripes which might have indicated either rank or some other aesthetic inclination.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
One of the hobgoblins snorted as it caught sight of Coop, moving slowly in the opposite direction to Pete. That was good. If even one of the hobgoblins chased after her, it would mean one less enemy for Pete to kill.
“Bunny!” one of the thick-headed hobgoblins said with a grin, pointing a chubby finger at the ferret.
Grinko Maas shook his head, stomping over to get a better look at Coop. “Not a bunny. It ain’t got the floppy flop ears you weak brain.”
“Bunny!” the other hobgoblin repeated as Coop kept moving to the side and drawing their attention away.
This sparked a series of insults and disagreements between the gang as the hobgoblins continued to debate the nature of the little creature. Pete used the opportunity to move in the opposite direction, putting more space between himself and Coop.
[Nero] Good news, Pete, I have calculated your odds of survival, and official betting odds have been released. Would you like to see the details?
Before he could reply in the negative, Pete slipped down the gutter with his left leg, jarring the injury on his opposite hamstring and sending a sharp stab of pain through his body.
“Fuck!” he blurted.
[Nero] I’ll take that as an affirmative. Here are the likely percentages as they currently stand.
+| Chance of death: 88%
+| Chance of dismemberment and survival: 11%
+| Chance of surviving without injury: 1%
+| Chance of being cooked into a stew and devoured after death: 50%
“I get the picture,” Pete hissed. “Just quit it with the stats, okay? In fact, don’t ever tell me what the odds of surviving are; just help me survive this damned thing!”
[Nero] Of course. Given the nature of the hobgoblin peoples and these particular individuals, I would suggest a show of strength. Take down one of the brutes quickly, and the others will be more cautious when attacking. That will give you a potential chance to flee.
Pete nodded as the hobgoblins kept pointing and laughing at Coop, describing the various ways they could use her dead body as a garnish. “Any obvious weaknesses?”
[Nero] They are vulnerable to stabbing damage, much like yourself, and their armor is relatively easy to get past. They have small eyes, however, and don’t do well navigating by use of other senses. If possible, I would suggest damaging their eyes.
Pete considered the brutes. Beady black eyes sat nestled within their green faces, protected by jutting brows and wiry eyebrows that looked like the hair was as strong as barbed wire. What were the chances of being able to hit one of those eyes in the heat of battle?
There wouldn’t be much money in it, but maybe running was the smartest option here? True, he desperately needed to get more Belch Bucks to pay back his debts, lock in base attributes, and grab a few essential items like a medkit and Loot Lure, but he was also wounded and weaponless.
[Coop] Pete? I can’t get to you. These big green bastards are keeping me away. One of them looks like it wants to eat me, and there’s a big one-eyed brute that keeps rubbing his groin.
Her voice came directly into his mind rather than being picked up by his ears. Pete guessed that this was some sort of party chat function, though he was perplexed as to how Coop had figured that out. He saw a small reply icon at the bottom right corner of his HUD and used it, trying to send a reply message.
[Pete] Just do your best to steer clear of them. I’m going to try and split them apart and take them one-on-one. If I can grab one of these axes, I might have half a chance.
[Coop] You’re dreaming! Far as I can tell, a dozen axes wouldn’t do you much good with that wounded leg.
[Pete] Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Pete turned his attention back to the impending fight. He thought through the logistics of how he could use the terrain to his advantage and try and pick off the hobgoblin boss before the others rounded on him.
In the end, the decision was taken out of his hands as Grinko Maas decided to start the fight, announcing his intention by hurtling his axe end over end at Pete. The weapon slammed into the sedan Pete was standing next to, shattering glass and buckling the back door panel as he stumbled backward.
The hobgoblin leader roared in anger, slamming his fists against his chest like an enraged gorilla as he charged forward, two other hobgoblins at his side grinning and cursing in their native tongue. Pete lunged forward, reaching for the handle of the large axe and hoping to rip it out of the car and use it himself. His wounded hamstring screamed as Pete grabbed hold of the weapon and pulled with all his strength.
It was stuck fast, wedged in up to the edge of the blade with crumpled folds of metal wrapped around it. He yanked desperately, using his weight to try and shift the axe but managing only to wiggle it in place a little before he had to abandon the effort and duck out of the way of a second axe that thundered into the boot of the car, almost cutting his body in half as it sliced into the metal.
Pete ran, or rather, limped around to the other side of the car, selecting his Coin Toss ability and aiming for the leader’s eyes. He held the attack, waiting as the brutish gang leader grabbed hold of his axe and wrenched it effortlessly out of the car.
“Grinko Maas is gonna eats yous, little thing. Gonna cook you in a pot and make the chew chew with yous gutlings!”
Pete ignored the comment, backing away and trying to position himself so that the hobgoblin leader would reach him well before the others. None of the brutes seemed in a terrible hurry to approach him; they sauntered, joking and cursing amongst themselves, content to let their leader do the killing for the time being.
Using that to his advantage, Pete stayed close to the car and held his newly acquired Coin Toss ability, preparing to fire the moment Grinko Maas’s eyes came into view.
“I gonna grind yous up and make the yum yum,” the hobgoblin leader continued. “Chew yous in the teefs until yous all gone.”
The hobgoblin brute rounded the rear of the sedan, and Pete triggered his ability. A coin flew from his right hand, glinting with light as it shot end over end with impossible speed towards the figure's eyes. As the shot was fired, Pete noticed that a single Belch Buck was removed from his wallet, and that realization stung him as he understood that each use of the ability would reduce his existing funds.
That thought was pushed to the back of his mind as the coin shot hit the hobgoblin leader right between the eyes at the top of his nose and, unfortunately, not in either of his eyes. The shot was enough to temporarily stun the brute, causing him to shake his head in confusion and swat at the air as though he’d just been stung by some flying insect. He snorted, a thin rope of yellow snot shooting from his left nostril and curling around his cheek as he growled in anger.
“What yous doin’ chump? Yous making a throw at Grinko Maas? Yous making Grinko Maas the mad mad!”
The brute’s rage was self-evident as he leaped forward, chewing up the few yards that separated them both and swiping his axe blade through the air at a horizontal angle. Pete ducked just before the blade cut his head from his shoulders and sliced into the side of the sedan. He rolled on the ground, his hamstring injury flaring as he kicked up and tried to shoulder-barge the enemy.
Pete slammed into Grinko Maas with all the strength he could manage, hoping to knock the hobgoblin off his feet or at least drive him back enough so that Pete could attempt to free the axe from the car once more. He realized his error too late as he thudded into a thick mass of muscle and fat. With his injured leg and the short distance between them, there hadn’t been enough time to build up any momentum, so Pete simply slapped into the side of the brute and felt pain radiate from the impact point and course through his shoulder and arm.
A meaty fist swung down at Pete, and he ducked to the right, narrowly avoiding the full impact of the punch and scoring a brutal glancing blow that sent him staggering away. Suddenly the pain in his leg was no longer his top priority. It felt like he’d been hit by a wrecking ball as he shook his head and tried to regain his footing.
The hobgoblin boss ripped his axe out of the car, much to the delight of his fellows. They cheered and grunted, clanging their fists against their weapons as they repeated his name over and over again.
“Grinko Maas! Grinko Maas!”
The hobgoblin leader's demeanor had changed. He was no longer making threats, no longer smiling and showing rotten teeth. Instead, he stalked Pete, twisting the axe around in his hand so that the blade flipped around and around.
“Shit!” Pete hissed, preparing himself for what was coming.