My first Hetalia multi-chapter fic: RPG!Hetalia AU based on the RPG designs by Hidekraz. (I've lost the link to them though)
The World is the newest online game to take the net by storm, and one which America finds himself engrossed in. Until he finds that he really can't log out. Is that strange wizard-class player behind these strange occurrences? Or perhaps he too is another victim of The World.
XX
Welcome to the World
Chapter One
XX
It was raining in Logos. The sky opened up for a torrential downpour of cold rain that chased all the players from the streets and kept the market silent but for the heavy pounding rain hammering over the stones.
Darkness made the town monochrome; the only colour against the grey-washed streets emitted from lanterns on the walls left to fend for themselves against the rain.
Canada rushed past heavy-set houses of stone and wood, his feet splashing and almost slipping over the wet cobbles. Breathing heavily as he ran, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head with one hand, holding out his lantern in front of him with the other. Rain made his grip slippery, the light swayed precariously, threatening to go out at any moment.
He glanced behind him. No one was following him yet.
Scanning for figures waiting in the shadows, for eyes peeking from the shutters, Canada slipped down the side of a dingy back alley to a thick-set door cut into the side of an old tavern. He hurriedly took off his spectacles and wiped them on his robe. Fumbling in his anxiety to find his nose again, he managed to put them on askew and raised his lantern to the oak; yes, this was the place that they were staying tonight.
He glanced around again, fearing he had been found, dreading the sound of those sirens he could just imagine looming upon him.
"England! England!" he rasped, knocking frantically at the slippery wood. "England! It's me! Open up!"
The eye slot in the door was rolled back with all the force of lightning striking. Canada started and jumped back, clutching his robe. A pair of familiar purple eyes greeting him for less than a second before the slot snapped shut and Canada could hear the rattle of bolts sliding back and chains rattling around locks.
Canada hopped around impatiently, nervously glancing around the deserted alleyway. The door was pulled back with a creak, and a tentative square of light fell onto the grey cobbles. A hand grabbed his wet robe and pulled him in, quickly shutting and bolting the door after him.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Canada found himself on safe ground again. In the back room of the tavern, a fire was merrily devouring its coal. Tallow candles stood in mismatched stumps in the centre of the table, giving the room a luxurious warmth for him to relish in.
"Where's England?" Canada asked, finally pulling down the thick, rain-drenched hood down. He dropped it by the fire with a heavy whump, hoping the flames would dry the small puddle of water seeping from its folds.
Russia settled back down on a chair - his chair - the last man who had tried to claim it had left three fingers short of a hand.
"Ah, he went out to get dragonsbane in Grandia. He won't be back until tomorrow," he spoke mildly, propping an elbow on the table stained with beer spills and empty pitchers.
"I thought I was going to die!" Canada moaned from where he sat on the floor, warming himself up by the fire. "Any longer and the mods would have caught me for sure!"
"Oh so you did it?" Russia smiled.
Canada froze. "Ah…err, well sort of."
"Sort of, Canada?" That smile widened coldly, sending shivers down his spine.
"I - I mean, of course!" he squeaked. "Of course I did it…it's just that…well…" he balked under the ferocious intensity of Russia's icy smile. It was when Russia seemed happy that he was at his most terrifying.
"Matthew?" Russia placed a warm hand on his shoulder. Canada squeaked. Russia only called people by their real names rather than their usernames when he was precariously close to doing something dangerous.
Sheepishly, Canada pulled out a small leather pouch from the pockets of his cloak. It was far less than they had hoped for and he knew that none of the gang would be pleased but what could he do?
"Will this be okay?" he asked.
XX
"Haha, look at that! Piece of cake, or what?" America grinned as he watched his stats roll up upon finally reaching level forty-five. The victory fanfare played to celebrate his achievement made his chest swell with pride; he really felt like the hero in a fairy tale.
Now if only there were a few helpless maidens to rescue…
"Yo, hamburger bastard! How much further do we have to go?" Romano threw one of his half-broken arrows at America's head. The pinioned end hit its target and bounced off without much effect. The dead bodies of the monsters they had encountered faded into stardust.
"What?" America turned around, raising his cowboy hat with the barrel of his gun. "Don't tell me you're tired! C'mon, how long have you been playing this game?"
Romano's glower could have extinguished the torches from their brackets. The whole cave seemed to grow darker and more ominous when he looked at the cheerful gunner. Sometimes, he could not tell if America was oblivious to or just refused to read his dark temper.
"When you dragged me on this stupid skirmish I didn't think it would take four hours, real time! I have school tomorrow!" he settled for a pout, gathering the arrows that could be reused.
"It's only eight!" America protested, his voice echoing through the hollow cave.
"It's almost four in the morning where I'm logged in from!" Romano snapped. "In the real world, I live in Tayil, remember? You know, pizza, pasta, serenades, mopeds, candlelight dinners, and eight hours ahead of you, Tayil? Never been anywhere else in my life and I have school!"
"So skip it, what's the big deal?" America shrugged.
The sound of their bickering shaking the walls, the dark and slightly dank cave with all its stalactites and stalagmites trembled under the sound of their voices, bats shrieked at them angrily but their voices were drowned under the arguing.
The third member of their party sighed and calmly sheathed his katana while his stats rolled up from their last battle.
"Well, America-san, Romano-san, we only have one more floor to complete before we clear the dungeon. Shall we proceed?" Japan turned to them calmly.
"Alright," Romano huffed, slinging his quiver over his shoulder.
The rest of the dungeon was cleared in uniform fashion. Past the hack and slash encounters that were easy enough to deal with, there were very little traps to waylay them, no forking passages to confuse them and at the end of the dungeon the final prize awaited them next to an Access gate without a final boss in sight.
America, though a little tired, was slightly disappointed at how easy it was to clear. Well, he was awesome at this game but it was because he was awesome that he demanded something really challenging. The worst they had encountered were those stone golems that took forever to bring down without magic.
They could do with a magic user. Although their character classes gave them a few elemental based attacks, it would have been useful if they had a magic user in the back; they would have been able to pass quicker without Romano grumbling as much.
"Well that was a waste of time." America frowned at Romano for saying exactly what was on is mind.
"Don't complain, we got the treasure!" he tapped his gun against the chest, watching the lid spring open.
The Access gate brought them back to the nearest town; the lively red-brick city of Grandia.
"Here you guys go! Split three ways!" America proudly distributed the spoils of their skirmish in three bags.
Romano juggled the coin purse in his hand. "Eh, why do I have less?" he grumbled, eyeing the rather large bulge coming from America and Japan's purses.
"Because you were useless!" America chimed. Of course he would have paid more if Romano had been a little more helpful beyond sticking arrows in things. He was a hero after all and a hero only did what was fair.
"Che! Stingy bastard!" Romano scowled, swearing that he would never join America on another skirmish if he was going to undervalue his skills all the time.
"Well then, it was a pleasure working with you but I have to leave," Japan gratefully pocketed his earnings.
"Ehhh, you're going?" America looked a little lost. He wanted to keep on playing for at least a few more hours. There were a few mini-dungeons that had yet to be explored.
"I'm not a monster. I need my sleep," Romano grumbled.
"It's only - "
"What is it about time zones that you don't understand?!" he snapped before America could say anything stupid.
"I will be making my way to the log out point as well. Will you be coming too, America-san?" Japan enquired politely.
America shook his head. "No, I'll stay for a bit. Maybe kill a few stray monsters and work on my levels." He grinned, "yeah, when you guys log on again, I'll be way ahead of you!"
Japan just nodded and followed Romano to the log-out point
Despite what America had told his friends, he was not really in the mood to fight monster, not alone anyway, but neither did he want to return to the real world just yet.
Thus America ended up wandering the streets of Grandia, glancing at other users gathering around potion shops and the black smiths. The streets were crowded - they were always crowded with the flux of players logging in and out - but today was particularly packed around the market square where the traders serenade met with the sound of loud haggling and lively chatter.
Grinning, America made his way towards the circle of stalls. Maybe he could haggle with a NPC, that as always fun. He was about to enter the market when a man in a long black cloak and a rather large bag slung over his shoulder pushed past him, almost throwing him onto the ground.
The man's escape was followed by an angry shout of; "Stop! Thief!" that made America's head rise at the sound of alarm. He whirled around, catching sight of the man's billowing cloak as he disappeared through the throng of users and NPCs.
Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed after the man who had almost knocked him down, bulldozing his way through the crowd crying; "Hey, you! Stop!" though he knew his words would only make the player speed up.
He caught the man glancing back at him, muttering a dark curse under his breath. Luminous magic circles formed around the wizard as he ran and he leapt back while twisting around to face America, shouting "Explode!" as he flung a spell at him.
"Holy - !" America accidentally let an expletive slip as he only just dodged the giant fireball sent zooming his way. Fighting in urban areas was strictly prohibited and could result in a week suspension but, he reasoned, that wizard had started it first. He pulled his guns out. "So you wanna play it that way, huh?"
Before he could take aim, the sound of the mod siren ripped through the air. Flashing red lights blinked on the edge of the street, causing other users to hurry out of the way
America glanced behind at their rapid progress and then forward again to the man's fleeing back. In the corner of his eye, he could see girl racing across the rooftops. Two large swords were strapped to her back yet nevertheless she leapt across the slates with all the grace and agility of a cat.
However, all thoughts of having a crime-busting ally were soon dispersed when the girl turned to address the wizard with a disapproving yet familiar gaze.
"What are you doing? The moderators are coming," she hissed.
"This fool is following me!" the wizard shouted back, his voice only just betraying the slight sound of panic.
"Who are you calling a fool!?" America cried, easily keeping up the pace. These magic types had no stamina at all.
The player made a strangled sound of annoyance. After a few more badly aimed fireballs missed America's head, he sighed and shouted up at the girl; "You take care of him, Belarus, I'm going on ahead!"
The girl leapt down as the wizard passed her, letting him through while blocking America's path down the street. He did not feel too comfortable fighting a girl but as she drew two bastard swords from behind, he had no choice but to prepare his guns.
Her choice of weapon and her battle stance quickly gave away her player class. A female berserker; now that was something you did not see everyday.
Nevertheless, America was not stupid enough to get into close range combat with a berserker type. Taking aim, he fired the first gun at Belarus, readying the second for defence.
The first bullet was easily deflected. America shot a second round at her head, forcing her to lift her sword as a shield. In that moment of temporary blindness, America rushed forward and dropped, skidding past the berserker's ankles in pursuit of the thieving wizard.
The man probably thought that he was safe; America found him catching his breath down the side of a narrow back alley. The moment he skidded into the alley, their eyes met and they both froze.
America was not entirely sure what made him stop himself, but the wizard must have froze from shock of seeing him again so soon. America could see the thoughts as they ran through his head; the annoyance that the girl had let him easily pass, the concern that he had been found so quickly, and the dread at the sound of the ever nearing mods.
Their moment of inertia ceased and everything cashed back into motion. The wizard jumped back in alarm, throwing a spell his way as a offensive reflex rather than a well-planned defensive manoeuvre.
"Oh no you don't!" America ducked just in time for the fireball to rip into the building behind him. Lunging forward, he tackled the man's waist, bringing him to the floor.
As they fell, the man's grip on his bag loosened. Panicked swearing followed its descent downwards as the contents of the bag tipped out; vials of odious-looking liquid, herbs and monster organs slapped onto the floor, glass shattering on the cobbles.
The contact between potions and pinions of monster feathers set of a chain reaction that formed itself in the shape of an angry rumble. Before he knew it, America was shoved backwards as the concoction exploded, scorching the walls.
A blinding flash followed afterwards. America threw his arms up to protect his eyes but he could not help but feel alarm for the wizard who had been left in the middle of that ground-shaking blast.
"Hey!" he cried out, fearing for the player's safety. He completely forgot that he could just log back in if he died, too caught up in the moment to remember. "Hey, are you okay?"
Fortunately, when the flames died down, America sighed in relief to see that the man had cast a barrier.
"Crap! I hope you're happy, you imbecile!" an extremely irritated voice reminded America of why he was in the alley in the first place. America glanced at the man's face, or of what he could see under the large black hood pulled over the wizard's head.
The man must have had the biggest eyebrows America had ever seen but also the greenest eyes ever. He wondered who would design their character like that? The green eyes, yes, but the eyebrows? Perhaps there was some sort of strange fetish for them out there in The World.
The wizard cursed and began making his escape.
"Hey, wait!" America called after him but it was already too late.
Hearing the mod sirens dangerously close, he decided that it would be better to avoid the bother of explaining what had happened; moderators could be awfully prickly sometimes.
He too made his quick getaway through the alleys, still pondering on the bizarre events that had just befallen.
XX
That's it for chapter one. There's a reasaon why England is with those particular characters. That said, any suggestions for Canada and Russia's character classes are welcome.