Lost in Revery

by Matthew Phillion

  And then Tobias saw his sister framed in the corridor entrance, looking ragged and muddy but strong and angry and brave. She had the little girl in her arms, whom she set down gently on her feet.

  “I only seem to know one stupid spell,” Tamsin said, her hands beginning to glow with flame. “But if I’ve ever met someone who deserves to burn, it’s you.”

  She unleashed her fireball once more, striking the bogeyman with perfect aim in the center of his chest. The monster opened its mouth to scream, but it was as if the cry was swallowed up by the heat of the spell. He coughed, and smoke drifted out of his mouth instead of sound. The room filled with the stench of burning fur, and meat, and leather. Then the bogeyman collapsed, his body languid and lifeless, fur turning from white to black as the flames consumed him.

  “My sister,” Tobias said. “Team Ravenclaw.”

  Tamsin gave Tobias a weak smile, then knelt beside the little girl and put her arms around her. Morgan grunted as he hauled Jack to his feet.

  “You’re going to let me cast a goddamned healing spell on your face now, ass,” Morgan said.

  Jack, winded from the bogeyman’s backhanded strike, just nodded. Morgan’s hand lit up with the same golden light his hammer had possessed during the fight, and the cleric placed his palm against Jack’s cheek.

  “Huh,” Morgan said. He grabbed Jack’s face roughly and turned it to one side. “Looks like it scarred anyway.”

  “At least I still have both eyes,” Jack said.

  “I bet if you’d let me fix this an hour ago…”

  “Don’t go healer-guilting me, Morgan,” Jack said. “It’s fine.”

  “Got a spell for healing a busted ass?” Eriko said, dragging herself off the floor and gingerly withdrawing her daggers from the bogeyman’s back. “I feel like I was just shot-putted.”

  “You two okay otherwise?” Cordelia asked.

  “Yeah,” Eriko said, eyeing Tamsin. “As okay as we can be given what we found.”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Cordelia said.

  “The other kidnapped children… won’t be going home,” Tamsin said. Then, to the little girl: “Your daddy’s waiting for you, Madsin. We’re going to bring you home. Okay?”

  Madsin nodded silently and put her head on Tamsin’s shoulder.

  “Well,” Tobias said. “That leaves us one obstacle.”

  “Another bogeyman?” Eriko said. “Tell me there isn’t a second bogeyman.”

  “I hope not,” Tobias said. “I was thinking about this.”

  He pointed at the tunnel leading up to the surface, which opened almost eight feet above their heads.

  “Are you kidding me,” Morgan said.

  “Anyone know how to roll a strength check for climbing?” Cordelia said.

  Morgan looked at her, despondent.

  “Not funny.”

  Cordelia shrugged.

  “I wasn’t really kidding.”

  Chapter 17: Little victories

  It was nearly dawn when they arrived back in town via the hole Tamsin had blasted in the wall.

  The climb from the bogeyman’s warren had been an undignified and ridiculous process, involving gracelessly shoving nimbler members of the party up through the ceiling to attach rope to help the others who remained below upward, and then a slow, messy ascent using roots like ladder rungs. Madsin rode up clinging to Cordelia’s neck before returning to Tamsin’s care on the surface, where Silence the wolf still waited patiently.

  Jack led the way back, unable to explain how he instinctively knew which way to go despite the forest looking the same in all directions. Tamsin soon tired of carrying Madsin, who transferred to a piggyback ride on Morgan’s back for a while, where she fell into a quiet, silent slumber.

  “Survived our first dungeon crawl, huh?” Eriko said, whacking Jack on the arm as they crested a small hill and finally spotted the town.

  “Small cave, one monster… I think we just completed the tutorial,” he said.

  “I guess things get worse from here, huh,” Eriko said.

  Jack shrugged.

  “I don’t think we’re going to poof back to our reality just by completing this one quest. Not after what Bennett told us.”

  They found Hink waiting at the damaged wall, with several town guards who had taken up sentry duty. A few others were there as well, including a tall, iron-haired woman they hadn’t met before.

  “Wake up, Madsin,” Morgan said softly.

  The girl’s eyes opened, and then she squirmed off Morgan’s back and ran for her father’s open arms. Hink scooped her up and spun her around, wrapping her up in the sort of hug only possible when you thought you’d never see someone again.

  “Monster’s dead,” Cordelia told the gathered group. “Bogeyman. Had a nest a few miles out in the woods.”

  “The other kids… won’t be coming back,” Eriko said. “I know there are families looking for them, but we don’t bring good news there.”

  The iron-haired woman watched Hink with is daughter for a moment, then nodded to herself.

  “You did more than we could have asked of you. I suspect there was no homecoming for those children before you even arrived in Modest Expectations,” she said. “I’m Miriam. I’m the closest thing we have to a mayor here, I suppose. And I’m overdue in welcoming you.”

  “You welcome every newcomer to town?” Eriko asked.

  “Just ones who step in and help us when no one else can,” she said. “Whether it was dumb luck that brought you to us or the will of the gods, I don’t particularly care. I’m just grateful.”

  “Um,” Tamsin said. “Sorry about your fence.”

  Miriam smirked.

  “Fences can be fixed. It’s a small price to pay for…” She looked to Hink and his daughter once more. “For that. You did him an even greater kindness than you know. Hink’s wife and son died of sickness two winters ago. Madsin is all he has left in this world.”

  “Then we’re even gladder to have helped,” Morgan said. He looked to the others. “I’m, um, Father Bastion. These are my companions, Raven, Rouge, Oberon, Nimue, and…”

  Cordelia smiled widely.

  “Orchid.”

  “Well then,” Miriam said. “Welcome to Modest Expectations. Are you staying long?”

  Again, Morgan looked to his companions. Eriko shrugged and wasn’t even the least bit subtle about it.

  “We’re not sure. We planned to meet here and head out, but we didn’t have any specific plans,” Morgan said.

  “Well, I hope you’ll stay. We’re a bit of a frontier town and can always use strong fighters,” Miriam said. “If not though, at least let us put you up for a few days and make sure you’re fed. You’re staying at Darv’s inn I expect?”

  “It does have the best tavern in town,” Tobias said, grinning.

  “Not that it has much competition,” Miriam said. “Consider your rooms paid for. A thank you for the good thing you’ve done today. And let me know if you plan on staying. You seem like the adventuring types, and we may have some work for you if you’re up for it.”

  “We may very well need the work,” Jack said. Miriam raised an eyebrow at him. “You know how idle hands and adventurers go together, I assume.”

  “You’re not my first band of adventurers I’ve seen in our little town,” Miriam said. “I should see to Hink and Madsin. Please, though—come find me if you’d like to talk more.”

  The mayor turned away politely and walked over to the father and daughter, putting a comforting hand on Hink’s shoulder.

  “Well, I’m glad they’re not mad about the fence,” Tamsin said.

  “What do you think?” Morgan said. “Do you think the game wants us to stay here? Do we move on?”

  “And go where?” Cordelia said. “I think maybe the game works like… like a video game. You start in one zone, learning how to play, and then you keep exploring further and further out. I think we’re in the starting area.”

  “The tutoria
l,” Jack said.

  “Looking at your face, Jack, it seems like the tutorial won in your case,” Eriko said.

  “I think it adds character,” Cordelia said. “Did getting your face ripped off hurt?”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to say this, but can we not pick on him? His face saved me from getting killed,” Tobias said. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

  Jack shrugged. Tamsin looked at him with a worried expression.

  “You saved my idiot brother’s life?” she said.

  “He would’ve done the same for me,” Jack said.

  “I’m like, a hundred and ten percent certain I wouldn’t have known how to do the same for you,” Tobias said. “Seriously. I owe you. I’ll write a song in your honor.”

  “How about you don’t write a song in my honor and we’ll call it even,” Jack said.

  “Sounds fair,” Tobias said. “Well, since our meals are free… breakfast at Darv’s?”

  “I’m starving,” Cordelia said.

  “Sounds good,” Morgan said, herding the group away from Hink’s and toward the center of town. “I want to hear more from Bennett, in any case.”

  Chapter 18: I wanted a dungeon crawl, not a mystery

  “I want bacon and pancakes,” Eriko said as they walked up to the front of Darv’s tavern and inn, which, Morgan was somewhat irritated to realize, they still didn’t know the name of.

  “Does this place even have a name?”

  “Oh!” Tobias said. “It’s… it’s a thing. It’s the… Um.”

  “The sign says the Hungry Lion,” Tamsin said, looking up at a sign over the door with a lion proudly sitting in front of a cartoonish hunk of meat.

  “Well that’s not subtle at all,” Tobias said. “Also, I don’t think they’ve got pancakes in Middle Earth or wherever we are.”

  “We’re not in Middle Earth,” Morgan said.

  “I don’t care where we are as long as they have breakfast,” Cordelia said, pushing past everyone and through the front doors. Before anyone else could enter, though, she stopped dead in her tracks. “Shit.”

  “Please, no,” Jack said. “We’ve been up all night, please don’t throw us another quest already…”

  Morgan charged in after Cordelia, the rest of the party following close on his heels. Inside, the tavern was a mess. Tables and chairs were overturned and broken; a few patrons lay on the floor, not dead but clearly beaten up. Puddles of ale and wine pooled on the floor as well, alongside shattered glass and earthenware.

  Tobias ran across the bar, vaulting the counter.

  “Darv? Darv, old buddy, are you okay?” Tobias said. Morgan raced to join them, finding Tobias helping the bartender into a sitting position, a bloody cut across his forehead.

  “Oberon? Oberon, it’s you. You’re a welcome sight,” Darv said.

  “Who?” Tobias said.

  “Oberon. You. Your name is… Am I seeing things?”

  “Oh! No, no, you’re right, I’m Oberon, I’m sorry,” Tobias said. “It’s been a long day. I… um, forgot my name. What happened, Darv?”

  The bartender grabbed Tobias’ shoulder roughly.

  “Where’s Ena?” Darv said. “Ena!”

  “We’ve got her,” Eriko said. “She’s okay. Looks like someone gave her a good knock on the head, but she’s in one piece.”

  “Should’ve seen the number I did on his face with my tray,” Ena said. “Ach, my head feels like a boiled egg…”

  “Were you robbed?” Tobias said. “C’mon, Darv. Focus here. Tell me what happened.”

  Darv rubbed his head, his hand coming away bloody from his wound.

  “They took your friend,” he said. “The old fella.”

  “Bennett,” Morgan said, throwing his head back in frustration. “Does anyone see Bennett?”

  Jack and Cordelia bolted outside as if to pursue, but Morgan shook his head, knowing it was too late.

  “How long ago did this happen, Darv?” Morgan said.

  “Late,” the bartender said. “They came in after we were trying to close up for the night, ushering people out and the like. They moved so fast we didn’t even have a chance to shout at ‘em to get out.”

  “Did they take anyone else?” Morgan asked.

  Darv shook his head. He crawled over to the counter and opened a metal drawer.

  “They didn’t even take any of our coin,” he said. “Nothin’. Just your friend.”

  Cordelia strode back inside, looking disappointed and disgusted.

  “Nobody’s seen anything, of course,” she said. She picked up a fallen chair and righted it absently. “So much for getting any more answers about how to get home.”

  Eriko sat down in the hair Cordelia had picked up. Cordelia gave her a dirty look. Eriko ignored her, crossing her legs casually.

  “I guess we better settle in for the long term then,” Eriko said. “Good thing we have work lined up.”

  Tobias popped open a bottle of whiskey behind the bar, poured a shot for Darv and handed it to him, then poured a shot for himself.

  “If we’re sticking around, we need a name,” Tobias said.

  “No, we absolutely don’t need a name,” Morgan said.

  “The Dungeon Crawlers,” Eriko said.

  “That’s super original, Eriko,” Cordelia said.

  “Anyone else using it?” Eriko said. “No? I like it better than some pseudo-Ren Faire title.”

  “I happen to like Ren Faire, you snob,” Morgan said. “But the Dungeon Crawlers works for me.”

  Jack walked back in, his wolf at his heels. He looked quickly at Tobias holding a shot of whiskey aloft, shrugged, then picked up a chair for himself and plopped down wordlessly.

  “To the Dungeon Crawlers, then,” Tobias said, throwing back his shot. “May we not die horribly, crawling through a dungeon, without ever finding our way home.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Morgan said. “Too bad finding our way home won’t be as easy as picking a name.”

  Epilogue: There is always someone watching

  The old wizard felt it the moment the new group arrived.

  It had been a long time since anyone had found their way into his world. The trap was no longer being manufactured in those other realities, he knew—something he’d like to change somehow, if he could find a way to travel there—but copies of the trap, or the “game,” as it was so cleverly disguised, still circulated. And it still lured new souls into its web sometimes.

  He rose from his bed and pulled on a robe over his patchwork pajamas, pulled a floppy cap onto his head. He pulled out a classic scrying sphere, a crystal ball in the most classic sense, and looked within.

  Six strangers, lost in his world. New souls to become heroes or victims or both. They all end up both in the end, he knew. He’d watched them all, over the years. Some arrived full of fearless abandon; others with trepidation and fear. All eventually decided they needed to take action. He’d seen them die in dragon fire or acid pits; he’d seen them slay gods and necromancers; wipe out undead armies, or become vampires or liches themselves. In many ways, the game was a social experiment. What do ordinary men and women do when they have a chance to be something extraordinary? Sometimes they do become heroes. Others become… what was that turn of phrase one such travel once called his merry band of misfits? “Murder hobos,” he said. “We’ve become murder hobos, wandering the countryside killing and looting.”

  They all had their entertainment value, the old wizard thought. Watching them was better than not. This world was very much alive with or without the strangers, but it certainly was more entertaining with them in it.

  He watched as the new group slaughtered one of those vile, baby-eating bogeymen. The wizard found himself chuckling at the almost cartoonish level of violence they heaped upon the monster. Well, they’re violent, but their heart is in the right place.

  Let’s see how long that lasts.

  He placed the crystal ball in a structure shaped l
ike a three-clawed hand, designed to hold the sphere in place. He waved his hand and a small fire started beneath a cold kettle. Tea while I watch, he thought. I’ve missed the entertainment of strangers.

  Don’t disappoint me, he thought. It’s so much more fun when they put up a fight.

  Book 2:

  The Dungeoneer’s Bestiary

  Chapter 1: Why does everything we fight eat people?

  Her entire gaming life, Eriko had loved playing stealthy characters. Thieves, rogues, assassins, games like this had no shortage of backstabbers. Give her some sort of sneak attack and a pair of daggers and she was a happy player.

  The thing about playing rogue-types, Eriko thought, was that you usually could hang back and watch your meat shield take the hits so you could dive in and do a bit of backstabbing. Let the other guy take it on the chin so you can get the devious work done.

  And this, Eriko thought to herself as she stared up at a stinking, hulking ogre poised to bash her brains in standing in the middle of the creature’s makeshift camp, is why I don’t play warriors.

  The ogre, a grotesque mockery of the human form, a ten-foot tall slab of meat and muscle covered under a wobbly layer of flab, brought his club down in a ponderous arc. Eriko dove out of the way with an almost superhuman grace she did not possess in the real world and which she was growing more and more thankful for every day. The ogre’s weapon, more the leftovers of a tree trunk than an actual crafted club, splintered as it hit the ground, kicking up mud and dirt.

  “Little help here? Rogue in trouble!” Eriko yelled.

  “I’m kind of busy over here!” Cordelia said. Eriko stole a glance to her left to see Cordelia, still an alien sight in the half-orc form she’d taken in this game world, swinging her massive battle axe wildly, opening a wound across the sloping belly of another ogre. This only seemed to anger her opponent, who roared and returned the blow with one of its own.