CHAPTER TWELVE

Man, what the fuck just happened? a couple of hours ago, Xavier almost drowned with a broken and a black eye given to him by one of his closests friend. In the wake of his divorce and probably because of it, Rick went home with the three famous sisters form Van Nuys. Little does he know they have four big ass overprotective brothers who live with them. Bob got so drunk he ended up throwing up in, Daisy’s parent’s driveway, and since he’s so big, and since everyone else was so drunk, we all just left him there. I think he’s still there, cupping his mouth, making an igloo-shaped vomit mound in between snores. What a strange world.

Jack took me home, still wet from his feeble attempt at saving his friend, Xavier. “You gonna be online?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I resond as I get out of his car, already thinking about the Doringian Forest. “I got to farm some darkroot herbs. You gonna be on?”

Jack sits there, looking out of his window. Scans the rows of tract housing that make up my neighborhood street. Occasional lamp post light dot houses in half orange while the other half sleeps in Valley blackness. He quickly turns to me and offers me a goodbye pound. “Naw. It’s 3 in the morning. I think I’m gonna go get some sleep.”

I pound him to say farewell. “Alright, man. I’ll see you online tomorrow? You don’t got work do you?”

“Nah. I don’t got work. But I think I’m gonna take a little break from the game. Kind of been slacking off at work. I’m thinking about going back to school. Get a masters. Find me a better job.” He says.

I close the door. He nods a final goodbye and speeds off, into and out of and back into the strategically placed lamp post lights until he vanishes from sight.

On any given night, we could always find another Player Hater online. Looks like tonight, I’m on my own. Looks like, maybe from now on, It’ll be just me.

I get into my room. Clothes strewn about the floor. Old cups of water and soda across my desk. Random scraps of papers underneath my keyboard, notes on what I can do to customize and improve, Brigg’s bad assness.

I Turn on the light, cushion my recliner, and fire up the computer. It’s time for some pwnage.

BANG! A gunshot is fired inside my room! The light shatters and my room falls into darkness, except for the glow from my computer monitor.

“What do ya think yer doin’, laddie?” growls a gruff, thick, Scottish accented voice from across my room.

“What the…?!?!?!” I turn as quick as a drunk cat, looking for cover and doing my best to peer into the darkness. The only thing i can find is my computer chair. I jump on and grab the back hoping it’s thick enough to stop a bullet. Unfrtunately, it revolves, so as soon as I jump on, it turns exposing my back towards the voice and gunshot.

Shit…

 ”Do you think ye’ll be playin’ that damned game?” said the grumbling voice.

I’m shaking. Disappointed. Scared. Wobbly. I have no courage. I don’t even have enough to attempt to defend myself. I close my eyes and whimper in disparage, “Take whatever you want mister. Please, just don’t kill me.”

“I’m not here ta kill ya, laddie.” says the voice. “I’m here ta save ya!”

What the hell?

Curiousity lends me enough energy to turn my head, regardless of how fear is paralyzing me. Over my shoulder my eyes make out a short figure standing in the shadows. Stocky. Sturdy. Strong. He walks into the light.

“What the hell?!?!?!” I yell, jumping off of the chair, eyes wider than my whole head. “What the fuck is going on here?!?!?!”

“I said, laddie. I’m here ta save ya.” Said the short figure. He grabs through his gray beard and scratches his chin. “Ya know, I would’ve thought ye would’ve had a bigger place ta stay in.”

It’s, Brigg. Brigg McGruff. My dwarf hunter on Battlecry. But he’s standing in front of me. Talking to me. Telling me he’s going to save my life. What the hell?!?!

I’m still drunk. That’s gotta be it. It must be the combination of marijunana and alcohol combined. Someone must’ve slipped me some shrooms or put acid on my tongue without me knowing because this has to be a hallucination.

“‘Tis not a hallucination, Corn, ma’boy. Tis real. And the danger you are about to face is even real…er.” Brigg says, thinking about that last sentence. “Well, ye get the gist. I’m not one fer words.”

I feel wobbly. My knees feel weak. I don’t think I can stand anymore. My eyelids are too heavy. I think I’m going to faint…

SLAP! “Snap out of it, boy!” says, Brigg as he takes his big, fat, dwarf hand and open palms me across my cheek. “There’s no time to waste!”

“OOOOWWWW!” I scream. “That fucking hurt! Damn, man! That really hurt! What the fuck, man? Why’d you do that? Jeezus christ that fucking hurt!”

“I’m sorry, boy, but you need to stay awake. I’ve got some important information for you.” Brigg says, stepping closer. He’s a whole foot shorter than me and a good 50 pounds heavier than me. His presence is immense however. I take a step back unconsciously.

He has a red eyepatch over his right eye. A scar across his left. In this dim light, I make out thousands of wrinkles across his old face and a long, thick, coarse, white beard travels to his waist. He’s balding on the top of his head. His skin is gray. The quintessential dwarf. Just in real life.

“You, Corn, mah boy, are the only one who can save the world.” He says.

“Save the world?” I ask, bewildered. “What the hell is going on?”

“We have no time for this!” Brigg says hurriedly. “You have to come with me quick.”

“Go with you?”

Brigg picks up his big ass shotgun and aims it at me.

“What the hell?!?!?” I shout. “What are you…?!?!”

“No time.” He says. Aims at me, pulls the trigger.

BANG!

I fall to the ground. Dead, probably.

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