Date: Þórri 13th, 598 AD. (Alt: 25th January, 599 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
"-today we are leading off where we were yesterday, with a new batch of 100!" Heath raises his hand towards a newly crowned pedestal by the front-centre of the room.
"Upon its face, your team can bring in any amount of items from the real world, as long as it can fit in a space the size of 1-Model Meters^(3) ((0.3232-m (1.0604-feet)^(3),) anything." He reiterates with a knowing look, for he saw the eyes of Gorm and Leif squint in thought.
"Bring in the enchantments and adaptable hilts from yesterday's gift." Egill stated with Bjorn and Marja in arms with him, hand held with his now fiancée and a 'friendly arm' over his brother-in-law's shoulder. Both fully aware and agreeing to the prospect of sharing this man as in the real show. 'That absolute knock-off.' Heath hides his quick look towards Jorg, who is none the wiser. "And there will be a new prize brought in this day. Whoever is the Most Valuable Teammate in this game, they will earn a special vehicle! Designed and tested."
*"*?*"* Many give surprised gasps and awes upon seeing the vehicle on the screens. A sleek encasement of CrCoNi alloy that is coated in an insulative layer of grey polish, it hovered above them with a dual magic hover-field system that controls its roll, pitch and yaw.
Its design was based on Lockheed Martin's experimental Raider X helicopter series showcased in early 2024, enlarged to hold up to 12 seats and containing automated flight systems through Heath's own sigil usage in a trained 360 map guidance system to warp, travel and land to their destinations with maximum efficiency. It has an internal battery that can absorb and last up to 18 Model hours without recharge in magic-less areas, fully enclosed and forced to a speed limit up to 1,385.5477-Model km / Model h ((482.8032-km / h (≈ 300.0000-mi / h).)[1]
Already faster than any mode of transportation around, it would be the perfect getaway vehicle for any escapades. It shows this through a visual demonstration against their fastest horse and of the average raven flight, overtaking them by leagues and bounds.
"There are additional features within, which I will not spoil for the winner. Once they do uncover them, I will describe everything in full detail." He opens each of the Uni-pod's doors and their randomly inscribed new names upon the raffle chosen to be brought up to the stage. This time, the star of the show is Leif! Joining hand in hand with his many battle buddies, as would be the actual military term. "Will you be ready, brother?" Leif asks Heath in coded language about the third game being prepared WITHOUT magic.
Heath no longer hid that he was tired and simply gave an ok hand sign in view. Leif stared into his eyes before quietly shuffling onto the soft padding of his own Uni-pod in hold. His bare feet giving a test upon the durable mattress-like material before lying in a fixed span.
He adorns the closed balaclava-esque neural helmet, the necessary tubing already softly suctioned and hermetic to the now incoming formulaic, viscous liquid at the same time as he lost all sense of feedback from his real body. He feels as if he is directly transported through a narrow portal, no sense of direction applicable when he is brought to the scene he saw last upon the grand screnes of the previous day. The orange moon now even more imposing when under its presence.
All of their teammates grab the notes from their pockets, all maps towards the correct building near to where Heath's home once was from the introduction. They walk backwards, past the large clumped hill of corpses, towards where the previous allies were killed.
"A proper burial, even if it is only a trial." Agnarr, knowing the proper funerary rites, goes into a nearby apartment structure to collect as much cloth as possible, the fine garments, carpets, cases and duvets used and frayed in a multi-arrayed cover. All of the dead are brought to a single sectioned corner of the dead farm, segregated by the mennskr and deer, they are each set alight, the fire dancing yet mute against the moonlight. While for them it felt like a few Model hours, in reality, the time was skipped using mind acceleration magic.
It turned to real time again, and they began their ascent up the terraced city. Scavenging the individual supermarket buildings and apartments, many kept their eyes upon their design, philosophy and culture with the inspired look of a country redneck.
"I prefer either the wide open fields or a single megafloor, not this." Faustino states with a focused evocation, recognising it was harder to see across a blocked distance and that the difficulty in climbing up such long flights of stairs within individual highrises. "I agree." Agostino pats the other's shoulder while carrying a self-made harness using one of the larger textiles to hold food and water. They understand they do not get hungry or tired, but this would work as training for them if they are travelling under real environments.
They come to a stop by the structure made of dark red bricks, giving the scent of chlorines, hydrocarbons and sulfur. Some glowing reds and purples emit smoky tendrils through the open holes of the worn-down fortification, creating a thick smog that chokes out the air.
Everyone triggers their armour's newer features that were built in overnight by Heath: A respirator system for toxic environments. The clear visor is made of a permeable magic membrane allowing for only oxygen and hydrogen to enter and for all other exhalants to be released. They enter through the blasted open gateway, soon coming into contact with a shadowed creature that gives snorts and grunts while scuttling by the corner, gnawing on a piece of metal that they see was a long, dulled golden sword.
The smell of it was repugnant, long dried green stains that give a better reflection than the skin that has since been dehydrated, showing a part of its putrid form, a zombified piglin, wretched. The Eirikr-like deer, Ezio, sprang out from behind Faustino to strike, but was stopped.
With him holding out his elongated hilt as a physical blocker, Ezio stares towards the contemporarily cowardly deer, waiting for an explanation. "I-, I heard from Heath after asking questions about the Nether. . ." He forces his words out. "That these beings are peaceful unless provoked." Against his usually skittish demeanour, Faustino reaches into his own personal satchel to bring out some stale bread that had been found in one of the pantries of a ground-level apartment. He reaches out with his arm, allowing the zombified piglin to see.
From the long-faded eyes came a minor expression change, unknown both to the mennskr and deer, it recognised that they were not here to hurt it, and with no violent or scared instincts, reached out slowly and grabbed the piece of bread.
"*Hr-oir*, *Rumbling Snort*" It puts the whole loaf into its half-rotten mouth, dropping many crumbs while chomping with its leftover gums. It soon finishes swallowing what is left and tries to pick up the crumbs with its skeletonised digits, no grip upon their smooth surface. It felt simple in mind, like a capybara or a dodo, only the last scraps left to keep it somewhat sociable. Rather than letting that pitiful sight continue, they give it a small cut bread loaf, which then makes it appear possibly grateful? Satisfied would be a closer term.
They move on, both seeing it sit down as a nibbling baby. Now getting far enough to avoid the stench, they see the open Nether portal, its eternal door open even after the devastation of the building that once protected it around them.
"We are ready?" Leif asks by the front of the queue, the corner of his vision still showing perspective towards the undead they are once meant to slay. Everyone quietens in focus, seeing the eroded half slabs where the steps of false predecessors came and went. All walk through to a new scene, not feeling close to a standard portal, it was a true one-stop deal with no delays. They immediately feel the unbearable warmth that is kept at bay with their insulated armour, how the acrid, acidic atmosphere would undoubtedly kill them immediately.
They are in a small waystation made of a strange cobbled stone, not of any known variety, with a smooth front, yet roughened edges where they were placed hastily for protection. On one edge, there were viewing holes, from which one can spy or shoot arrows from.
On the opposite side, there was a ladder that led to two steel trapdoors, two for both the top and bottom. The deer have no choice to dig out, while the people will first see if it is safe or not. "How did that single dead one come through this chamber?" Agostino questions, seeing the strength of the material in hand. "More than likely before it was built." Asdos notes, thinking that Heath may have kept that single creature as a pet, or maybe a friend? (Heh, they should have seen the nametag it had under its shirt, called Beefcake.)
Egill takes the bottom rung trapdoor, first opening it before using the built in girder to climb downwards, he now sees outside through the open corners that are not protected by the cobbled columns. The darkened, tinted glass allowing for a one-way view of the environment.
It truly reminded him of Múspellsheimr, a land of fire and lakes of flowing magma. There were differences to the actual realm, such as the existent Élivágar ice rivers that built the sparkling steam and heat of the primordial realm, but if he took a painting of this scene, it would be a genuine enough replica for their mythology. He climbs down further, soon reaching the embedded cobble room within the 'stone' that looks to be made of condensed iron rust clumps, now sitting in a small common room with utilitarian furniture.
A titanium table and chairs with an empty temperature cooler on the side, signs of oxidising at the points of contact for the furniture, turning from a shiny reflective surface to a pure grey. "You did not do much for your travels, did you, Heath?" Leif asks rhetorically.
He sees the steel door that leads down to the molten lake, a covered walkway leading to what would best be described as a stable pier. Holdings with tinted mushrooms growing in farms beside where a shapely creature of purely legs and a head stood, dazed from how little contact it had with another being similar its original master. 'The strider.' He grabs a pair of overgrown red and teal fungus, soon mixing it with a spoon in a steel bowl to make what Heath had called a 'Stew feed.' He sits it upon the surface of the lava, floating on its own.
The strider fully sits upon its stony knees in a kneeling position to sniff at the bowl. Much too similar to that of a goblin shark, it extends its incredibly wide mouth forward to slurp up the thick broth. Leif found it strangely endearing with its small, beady eyes.
He reaches out his gauntleted hand, and with the strider's social nature, it even leans into the pat, giving a small vibration through his arm from its leg shaking slightly, causing the magma below it to undulate. Leif smiles without showing his teeth, his beard reacting by his moustache making a crescent shape. He goes to its designated storage unit where the treated hoglin-leather saddles were, putting it on and seeing its lacquered nametag emboldened on the back.
"Gertrude, what a strange name." He silently laughs to himself, he felt its incredibly thick hide, and with how warm Gertrude felt to the touch, he knew that even if he brought it to the overworld, he would be cooking upon it, a stolid barbecue. He now sits to try out the harness.
He sets up the stirrups, holdings, fender and rigging rings as described while in the correct position, soon feeling he is fully stabilised upon the creature that is wider than his horse. 'I will need to train to keep my legs splayed as this.' Leif knocks the harness once, setting the creature to go. He now rides across the wastes, seeing all manner of strange creatures above and below his position. Smaller, slab-esque creatures wobble along the surface and following the same creature he rides from within herds, striderlings!
He sees in the distance, where there is little to no life, that there are long, worm-like creatures with a basalt-adjacent beak that dig through the magma as to 'swim' through and eat what manner of creatures exist below the surface.
He sees many white to smoky creatures above, reminding him of Himinnvættir (Sky wights.) More neutral to malicious entities in the fold closest between realms. He recognised a few, from the ghasts that are too far away to spot him riding his trusty biped, to the Albino phantoms that flow along across the hot air currents from low to high heights. He sees many others in monochrome colourations, which he can document and raise from Heath's descriptions of ecological cataloguing.
"For being a simulation of the actual version, this feels all too real." Leif mumbles to himself, his ride not reacting to his self-musings. He pats the top of Gertrude's head for her to stop in her tracks, now seeing the Nether base in a vast perspective, far away to get the deer's pathing ready towards the direction of the fortress. "If we mine into the rack behind the base, we could create a small tunnel that leads to the shelf by its left, once through there we could follow the acute cliff and into that basalt delta. . ." Leif tries to memorise the route.
He sees the original route Heath had taken from the map, showing it goes through a large promontory that goes to a blackstone 'beach' towards the bastion. Past the bastion and to the left through the nesting area where a small path exists is where they will find the fortress.
"So we must wear gold for the normal piglins to not attack us. Alright, there is enough ore around." He sees the nearby erosional fin with high concentrations of sparkling gold and glowstone. He draws the route by bringing it into his armour, biting his forefinger and marking it with his blood in dots. He quickly travels back and past the glóðhraunnaðr (firey ember pile (lava) serpent) and to pass around the now dispersed saltation of striders (courtesy of CantQuiteThink_) He notices a ghast coming lower and towards his direction, so he hides behind one of the netherrack island peaks that had formed within the lake.
Within his satchel, he grabs out one of the since-cooked fungi and a bit of still-lukewarm water within an insulated cold thermos to feed Gertrude, who enjoys the cold sensation from the overheating shooting up its legs, steam now rising through the nostrils and mouth corners.
"The ghast moved, go!" He flicks the harness lead and pushes the stirrup inward to goad Gertrude forward at a faster pace. . . He makes it successfully! All without endangering themselves or their new knowledge. He saddles off and to treat her for being such a good girl, he gives her multiple bowls of the fungus stew to last her for a while. He travels up the ladder again, seeing many of the deer with their fur hiding their panting behind their armour, while the mennskr, even if in cooled armour, were still sweating under the blistering heat.
"Here is the best route from what we gathered. We should collect some gold on the way for us to have no issue bartering a trade with the inhabitants." They search through the storage containers where the workers would rest in the top room, soon finding tools.
Many of them were magically enchanted or powered through archaic batteries of unrecognisable design, an obvious mad idea by Heath. They held no charge, the magic of the Nether not applying the same way as in the Overworld. They take them back through the portal to charge while they take out the pickaxes made of a 1045-steel of medium carbon alloying with a flame-hardened tough cores, the knowledge important in case of repairing or recreation. They take out 5 with the best condition to then begin chipping at the rack.
They cut the tube to 3 of Agostino's shoulder span, working through and using the crack lines to measure where the shelf would be, sometimes digging small holes to the outside to allow for enough airflow so they do not bake themselves to a heat stroke.
By using all of these methods, they quickly reach the gold ore, breaking them out of the much softer material that is rack around the nuggets to then be brought back in multiple trips. On top of their helmets, shoulder pads and belt, they now wear connected wreaths of coated gold that are held in place with thin, barely visible straps, now making them appear like a mixture between a futuristic soldier and a royal cataphract. They move with a quickened precision with timed breaks and reach their destination in what feels as half a day.
"So that is what they look like normally." Ezio mumbles in a monotone setup, clinical in his view of this potential 'infection' while behind his fully formed shield. He keeps guard behind the rear with Jorg sat upon him, double-headed spear in action.
The piglins spot the shininess of these newcomers' armour. Their faces now marked with greed and snorting in anticipation while preparing their random 'wares' from all over.
[1] ᛉ (Protection / Shield / Elk,) ᛇ (Yggdrasil / Yew Tree / Dream Rune,) ᚱ (Horse / Ride / Journey / Thor Rune,) ᛟ (Heritage / Estate Rune,) ᚾ (Need / Hardship Rune,) ᛗ (Man / Human / Self Rune,) ᚠ (Cattle / Livestock / Wealth Rune,) ᛖ (Horse / Twin Forces Rune,) and ᚨ (Odin / Inspiration / Wisdom Rune.)