Polynya

“The wolf’s name is Wolf,” Ryuk reminds everyone.

“Wolf is going to keep attacking Katiyana if we don’t do something about his injured owner. So even if he won’t join us, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he will, we’ll still be handling the town’s affair and then we’ll be granted access to the catacombs, and then we’ll get to Porthos, get the Knight’s attention, and save this world and our world.”

“Just like that?” Hiccup asks.

“Just like that.”

“I like the plan.” Zaena uses a ghost limb to fondly lift FeeTwix’s face up. She smiles down at him for a moment, before they’re interrupted by Hiccup’s belch.

“Fick, sorry, guys. DD’s BBQ is burning a hole in my gut.”

With his eyes burning, Ryuk waves the rancid, peppery stench away. “FeeTwix is right,” he says, once it is safe to breathe again. “It seems like the only way forward. If we cure him, we’ll stop Wolf from raiding the town. Everyone wins.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” rattles off the goblin, “you three go, and Enway and I’ll stay back here. Someone has to watch Snowballs, that’ll be Enway. And there’s a little room above DD’s BBQ, a perfect place to take in the sights and smells, if you get my drift.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” says the Swede. “If you come with us, a fan of yours, one of the Fickers, is promising you a specially delivered box of Hopkins’.”

“What size box?”

“A big box.  How does that sound?”

Hiccup grabs FeeTwix by the cheeks with his grubby hands and stares into his jet black eyes. “Are you telling me that I can barter with these fickers?”

The Swede nods.

“In that case, fick yeah I’m going! Also, Marbles, I still want my eight percent cut of the final loot.”

“It’s one percent, just like we agreed.”

“No, that’s the people who benefit most from the Empress’ most recent tax cuts. Ha! See what I did there. Fick rich people, that is, until I become one. Then fick the poor.”

Ryuk sighs audibly. “Two percent.”

“Three.”

“Fine.”

“Then it’s a deal! Glad I put all this together.” There’s suddenly pep in the goblin’s walk as he struts his way back over to Oric and Enway. “Good news, kiddos, the Mitherfickers have reached a compromise! Gladiator, expect to have your ass healed by morning.”

Chapter 15: Doing Oric a Solid

Rather than take Marty’s crazy ride again, the Mitherfickers decide to brave the night and walk to Lake Klattenhoff, which is a couple of hours north. As they walk, Hiccup and Zaena get into a heated debate on what racism is and how, while he accuses everyone else of being a racist, Hiccup is the most racist of them all.

“What? Just because I don’t like elves? I mean, Enway is okay, but most are shady magic wielding poofty little kiddy fickers. They have dumb ears too.”

“See? Racist.”

“Don’t like Thuleans neither, although you’re not bad either, at least when you’re not messing with my hair. And seriously, Liz, there was a fickin’ hotbody back at DD’s BBQ who was all over me because of my good features, so don’t go saying I’m some sort of chubby little fickbag because I got the looks, the attitude, and the know-how to land a number of babes.” Hiccup grins at FeeTwix. “Boy fick, Twixy, you should have seen the mammaries on that one! Mamtacular!”

 “A female liked you?” Zaena asks, skeptically.

“Why is that so hard to believe? Yeah, she was a bit of a porker, not my kind of halfling. I’ll be honest, for halflings, I like them thin. Orcs? Jelly rolls, at least six. Elves? Don’t like them, especially their ears, but I already said that. Humans? Depends on if they’re commoners or not. Also, I don’t like immiNPCs, but I do like Dirty Dave, because what the fick can I say? He’s a high-quality guy.”

The goblin stops, scratches his ass, and continues.

“Who else don’t I like? Beastkins? Fick no. I hate women with furry tails. Drows? Refer back to my opinion of elves. Dwarves? If they’re not too short. No one likes a shorty. Gnomes? If they don’t have hats. Thuleans, yeah, no. Sorry. Too hoity toity. Too tall. Too green. Kind of hot, actually,” he licks his lips, “but way too dangerous. Commies? Fick them. Ink shadows? Fickin’ ghost face killers if you ask me, fick them to hell.”

“And that, goblin, is why I believe you are the most racist of the Mitherfickers.”

“Whatever, Liz, there are people I like too. Like that halfling back at DD’s BBQ I was telling Twixy about. If this were any other night, I’d be knee deep in–”

Ryuk tunes Hiccup out at just the right time.

Instead, he focuses on the path that lies ahead, noticing little flickers of green magic lifting from the grass into the air. The entire place is magical, he thinks. With a deep breath in, he recalls Hajime’s oblique quote about forgetting his breath.

He turns to Hiccup and notices that the goblin is red in the face from so much talking. Talking, talking, talking – it seems that Hiccup speaks just so there’s someone speaking; that, or he’s uncomfortable with silence.