Racknar opened his eyes to find himself in a massive white room, seemingly empty minus himself. After spending a moment looking around the white void he looked at himself to see thin, almost sickly pale human arms and hands. “What?” He uttered before suddenly the void was gone and he found himself standing in an alleyway of a modern city. Not just any modern city, but the one he used to live in during his past life. He heard footsteps approaching, drawing his attention to the noise only to see five people led by a familiar face.
A large, proud shouldered man wearing a sports jersey walked over, and pulled a knife. “You humiliated me publicly. Now everything I had, everything I've built is gone! You took it away from me, and now I'm going to make you pay Doe.” Racknar made a confused face and knitted his brow. “Duncan?” His voice came out sounding strange. Then he caught his own reflection as he backed away. He was Jon again, and about to be assaulted by his highschool bully who was holding a knife.
“Duncan, I didn't take anything from you, I just showed Magen who you really are.” Duncan and his four friends surrounded Jon, preventing him from escaping. “You're nothing Jon, nobody! The only thing you were ever good at is being a surprisingly durable punching bag! If you thought you'd walk away with my girl, you're delusional.” Jon sighed. “She isn't your property Duncan, the fact you think she is is part of the problem. I was never trying to steal your girl, hell I don't even want to date her. My scrawny ass knows full well she deserves better. Better than both of us.”
Duncan rushed at Jon with the knife pointed at him. “Let's see you keep that smug look on your face when you've been hospitalized!” Jon's body reacted on instinct, moving to the side and grabbing the arm before disarming it and sliding the knife away. Shortly after a second person came in and punched him in the face from the side. Duncan's friends started closing in and throwing punches. Unable to move enough to dodge, he started taking hits.
“(What is going on here? Is this a memory? No, it feels real. Illusion? Again no because how would any mage know about Duncan other then Elizabeth who wouldn't attack me. My best bet is to simply keep going till I find out what's going on.)” Jon stomped on someone's toe and started fighting back, it didn't take long to realize despite the fact he was outnumbered he was doing way better than he did during a similar fight in his past.
Jon had been dodging, striking, and redirecting attacks way better than he ever did in his previous life turning what would have been a difficult fight into a joke. Dunkan was clearly getting upset. “How the hell did you get even better at fighting you little fucking twig? I grabbed two more people than last time and I'm still losing.” Jon laughed. “That's because you're a fucking loser Duncan. Always was, always will be.” Another string of attacks came in only this time Jon started sending the larger men to the floor and knocking them out till only Duncan remained.
Duncan found the knife and picked it up, tossing it and managing to stab Jon from a distance. Jon looked at the wound as he felt his blood boil. He pulled out the knife and went savage on Duncan knocking him to the floor and bashing his face in. After several hits he held a shaking fist over Duncan's face as he recoiled in fear. Jon took a few breaths and calmed himself. “You're not worth it.” He then got up and started walking away. “You never were. I'll go back to never thinking about you again. Thank you very much.”
After a bit of walking the city Jon knew changed and in a spot it didn't belong was an arena. Not just any arena but the coliseum of Ran that Racknar had only seen paintings of. Jon looked at his hands to see he was still human before walking in and joining the stands. He felt he stuck out like a sore thumb in his modern attire as he sat among the audience. However, no one seemed to notice. The cheering crowd settled as the announcer announced the next event.
“And for the grand finale we've got something extremely special for you. I hope you're in for a wild ride folks. Welcome to the stage, the standing champion of this arena. The Holy Demon of Bramble, The Rightful Fury of Flowers, the Duke of Camelot! The one, the only, you know him, you loathe him, Racknar Aradae!” Jon sat up straight as he watched the four armed man spider in a blue robe walk out of the fighter’s pit in the arena. “W-wait?” Jon stammered. The announcer continued. We'll be taking a volunteer from the audience to take on our champion.” The crowd cheered but no one seemed to step forward.
“No one volunteers? Well I guess Racknar will just have to pick some lucky soul at random then!” Racknar pointed to the crowd that suddenly fell silent as he moved his finger through it, stopping on Jon. Everyone looked at him and he suddenly found himself standing in the arena around twenty feet from the massive and imposing figure. Jon had to look up in order to make eye contact with the blue dotted irises on Racknar's face, proving that the man spider was over six feet tall.
Racknar didn't have any equipment on him, but Jon knew he wouldn't need any. Jon looked around the area a few times. “You have to be joking right? There's no way I can win this fight. I'm going to be slaughtered.” The announcer laughed. “Well you can't spell slaughter without laughter.” He then makes a quick exit. “Let the games begin!” As soon as that was said Racknar charged at Jon who barely dodged and started running away. “What in the nine hells is going on here!?” He shouted as he did his best to avoid getting hit by the black behemoth chasing after him.
“(Okay, think. This is some sort of puzzle or trial. These sorts of things always have solutions. If I can't fight my way out there must be another way. The exits are closed and I'm not climbing out with this human body. There has to be something I can do!”) “Quit running and face me, coward.” Racknar's deep voice boomed as he punched the floor aiming for Jon who sidestepped. “All those fists and you still can't hit me. Seems I'm more nimble as a human.”
Racknar growled as he sent a series of punches at Jon, briefly pausing after the sixth. “(Eh?)” Jon took the opening to punch Racknar right in the mandible as hard as he could. He heard his knuckles cracking as all he seemed to do was hurt his own hand. “Ah!” He pulled it back and grabbed his arm. “It's like punching a wall.” Racknar started a new string of attacks with Jon once again dodging each one by a hair. Counting the attacks. “(One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.)” Racknar then paused briefly for a moment once more.
“(Why is he hesitating after the sixth attack? Why not just wail at the air till he hits me?)” Jon made another punch, this time aimed high at Racknar's nose before kicking him in the codpiece. Racknar didn't even budge, simply stared down Jon as he uselessly tried to fight back. Racknar started attacking once more, forcing Jon on the defensive. “Isn't this what you wanted? The best the shit out of your old self? Guess you never thought you'd be in the point of view of your former self for this fight, did you.” Racknar's voice boomed as he made his string of attacks. One punch per second, over six seconds, then a moment of hesitation before continuing.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“(He's… he's fighting based on round combat. He's hesitating at the end of a round before starting a new one. Even though this is real life because my dumb ass can't help but think of things in terms of Creatures and Catacombs.)” Jon dodged another six attacks having missed his last opening but taking the next one as soon as it came to aim for the nose again. “I know I can't win, but I'm going to do my best to make sure that your nose is good and bloody by the time this is over.”
Jon knew just one solid hit from his other self would be all it would take to end this fight. He may have retained the skills but this body just simply wasn't built as good for fighting. “(Wait, if I have my fighting skills I should be able to access my class abilities. After all, thier a part of my soul.)” Jon focused on dodging once again, taking a scrape to a side while he waited for the opening. As soon as it came Jon’s arm became enveloped in blood red flames licking out from it. “Reckless Infernal Strike!!!!!” Jon yelled out as loud as he could as he slammed his fist into Racknar's nose so hard he broke his own hand, but his right hand wasn't the only thing to crack as the chitin on Racknar's face cracked and blood started dripping out of his nose.
Jon let out a sound of celebration as he gripped his broken hand. “Haha! Take that you oversized bug breathed behemoth! Bet you didn't see that coming.” Racknar snarled as he suddenly did a raising kick sending Jon rolling down the arena like something out of a cartoon. Jon struggled back to his feet feeling that several ribs were at least cracked if not broken. “This fight is pointless Jon, you can't win.” Racknar stretched his arms out. “This body is faster, stronger, and more durable than yours. You stand no hope of winning. I thought you thought kicking the ass of your old self would be cathartic, so why aren't you enjoying this more.”
Jon groaned. “Because the only thing I hate more than fighting is losing and the only thing I hate more than losing is myself.” Jon couldn't move as much anymore, he doubted he'd be able to dodge another attack, so when Racknar came in he didn't try. Instead he went in for the attack at the same time. “Reckless Infernal Strike!” Jon's left fist broke on Racknar's face damaging the face farther as he was punched in the sternum and laid on the floor finding it extremely difficult to breathe.
Unable to get up and fight back Jon laughed while in pain. “Well, I did my best, hehe. I was never supposed to win anyway.” Racknar moved to tower over Jon. “So, are you satisfied with the results?” Jon chuckled lightly then winced. “Did better than I thought I would, I'm ready to end this now.” Racknar nodded and raised his fist. “Reckless. Purgatory. Strike.” He fist lit in sickly green flames just before coming down on Jon's head and everything went black.
Racknar blinked a few times while looking at his black naturally armored fingertips touching the stone of the statue, a strange stinging sensation in his face. “Racknar, are you okay?” Ariagoria asked. Racknar turned around, his fangs curled into a smile. “Never felt better.” Ariagoria and the rest of the party recoiled backwards making faces of disgust. “Your face is a mess.” She casts a healing spell on Racknar fixing his face. “What the hell happened?”
Racknar blinked a few times then looked at the statue that crumbled to dust leaving something glowing behind. Racknar fishes what looked like a large golden ring out of the rubble, shrugged and put it in the bag. “I'm not entirely sure actually. First I was human again fighting my highschool bullies, next thing you know I'm in an arena getting my ass kicked by my current self while still human. I guess I passed the test. Doesn't exactly feel like a victory though considering I lost the fight.”
The rest of the party just looked at him and blinked for a moment before Davy spoke. “I don't think we're going to get paid for this.” Racknar shrugged. “Let's make our way back home.” The party started walking back to the cart and hopped on, another cart with some adventurers rolled up. “Looks like someone beat us to it, Tome.” A crow man in black robes cawed. “Caw! Better luck next time!” In a shrill crow-like voice. Another member of the other party then whipped at the reins on their cart. “Let's check out those rumors about some living dolls.”
Marionette perked up. “Living dolls?” Racknar grumbled. “Don't get excited Mari, although uncommon Living Dolls and Animated armors are not unheard of. Sometimes found as sentinels protecting ancient artifacts and stuff. They're relatively mindless and attack whatever is closest to them.” The person driving the other cart looked over to Racknar. “Yeah but these ones are different. Time here said he had a run in himself and not only did this trio use strategy but one used magic.” Racknar tilted his head. “Do you recall the spell the Doll cast?”
The crow man cawed. “Dissonant Whispers, squawk.” He mimicked a female voice before making a crow sound. Racknar cursed under his breath. “That's bad.” Ariagoria looked at Racknar. “How so?” Davy was the one to answer. “Because Dissonant Whispers is a Warlock spell. You need a soul to have a patron. Meaning at least one of these dolls is powered by a black soul gem.” Marionette looked at the party and whispered. “They're like me. We have to get to them first.”
Racknar nodded. “Sounds worth looking into, I know an artificer that would go nuts for something like that. We'll go with you and track these things down. Better in groups right?” The other group looked at one another and nodded. “If you insist, but we expect loot to be divided fairly.” The two parties then started to travel together looking for these strange living dolls.
The Monster Mashers and this guest party traveled to different towns and cities gathering info, always moving in pairs so the two parties could keep eyes on one another. In addition to the man crow rouge the guest party consisted of four other members. A pink skinned male demon-blood wizard, a dark green skinned female Ork ranger with some sort of skin condition similar to vitiligo causing patches of light green skin to have formed on her body. A bear man barbarian with a double ended axe, and finally a male human bard.
Whenever the parties split into teams of two they always separated by party rolls. Racknar was teamed up with the bear, Davy with the demon-blood, Marionette with the crow, Krys'tal with the Ork, and Ariagoria with the bard. The bear man had decided to casually chat with Racknar as they walked through the city together. “Your party has a well balanced composition. Though I do find it odd a knight of all things would be able to identify someone as a Warlock from a single spell. Are you a Rune Knight perhaps?”
Racknar let out a low growl. “Technically I'm a Berserker. I don't use magic.” The bear made a perplexed expression. “The fusion of two types, neither of which use armor. So why are you wearing armor?” Racknar grumbled. “I'm not.” The bear looked even more confused. “What do you mean you're not wearing armor? I'm looking right at you and-” Racknar sighed and took off his ring of illusion. The bear stopped mid-sentence for a moment before going. “Oh, I see.”
Racknar put the ring back on. “Wrath of the wilds barbarian, right?” The bear nodded. “Was it that obvious?” Racknar shrugged. “I'm guessing your demon-blood is a wizard and not a sorcerer. I get the feeling they are actively ashamed of who their infernal progenitor is.” The bear raised an eyebrow at Racknar. “You gathered all that from just looking at us?” Racknar sighed. “His Infernal progenitor is Asmodeus the lustful is my guess. As for the crow and the Ork I'm guessing poison specialist and tracker.”
The bear nodded. “How about your party? I noticed you have two humans in it.” Racknar responded plainly. “There are no humans in my party.” The bear gave Racknar a confused look before realizing that means the two humans were likely also using illusions. Racknar then continued. “Everyone in my party is a Reborn and a gestalt. I am or I guess was a wrath of the nine hells Barbarian mixed with a fist of the weapon master martial artists.”
The bear offered a nod and a grunt only catching and understanding a fragment of what Racknar said. After checking with townspeople the parties regrouped and followed on a lead they collected from combining the information they gathered. It seemed the sisters were guarding an old abandoned town for some reason, so the two parties made their way to the new location. The bear finally asked: “So why is your party interested in these dolls? Simply because they're unique?”
Racknar growled lightly. “Somewhat, we have some prior experience with sentient living dolls and knowledge of a guy who specializes in stuff like. So naturally we'd want to see such a rare specimen. All I ask is that you avoid killing them.” The other party nodded in agreement.
