The Gamers: Dorkness Rising (The Novel)

by Diana Brown

  “Mort Agrippa!” The innkeeper howled as though he had been burned, and scuttled swiftly into the back room. One question answered, Osric thought. Mort Agrippa lowered his hood, revealing squiggly black tattoos covering his face.

  “You are most certainly not welcome here.” The heroes moved their hands to their weapons.

  “An introduction would seem in order,” Luster suggested coolly.

  “I am the governor of this town and you are trespassing on these lands.” Osric was fairly certain the king hadn’t appointed any Morts as governors.

  “These lands belong to the king!” he declared.

  “These lands belong to my king,” Agrippa corrected.

  Silence filled in the blank: “Mort Kemnon.”

  “Yes,” Agrippa smiled at the mention of his master. “And soon you will serve him as I do – beyond the veil of death!” Eerie green light flowed around Agrippa’s hands as he cast some evil spell. Black smoke billowed up near the heroes. As it subsided, four ninjas stepped out of the haze and leapt toward the party.

  Silence upended the table, while Osric drew his sword. Daphne snatched up her spear and engaged a ninja. Things swiftly became confusing. Fighting ninjas is much more complex than fighting goblins, Daphne thought, as she watched a Ninja come up behind Silence.

  The monk caught the ninja’s blade between his flattened palms as it swung down toward his head. In a move Daphne didn’t totally catch, he turned the blade, swung it low next to his ribs, and then backward into the vital organs of the ninja still standing behind him. Agrippa hurled a burst of green magic at Luster, trapping her in bands of energy.

  “Gary, you’re held. Leo, you’re in.”

  Flynn ran down the stairs, adjusting his tunic.

  “Fear not, I have returned!”

  He began to play an upbeat tune on the mandolin, knowing that the best help he could provide was to improve the performance of the others. Osric scuffled with a ninja, elbowing him in the face and knocking him unconscious as Agrippa watched from the corner.

  “Dash it all, man, help us!” Osric cried to the bard.

  “I am!” Flynn protested, playing even more frantically.

  Silence engaged two ninjas, wrapping the chain of one’s kusari-gama around his hand. The other ninja picked up a small wooden barrel and swung it at Silence’s head. Silence jerked the chain, burying the first ninja’s blade in the wooden container and flinging both attackers away from him. The barrel smacked Flynn in the head, knocking him to the ground and killing him. Silence leapt up behind another ninja, rabbit-punching him in the ribs and paralyzing him.

  Something had been nagging at Osric, but he had been too busy fighting to work out what it was. Suddenly, he understood – the ninjas smelled….wrong. Of course! Agrippa was a Mort – a servant of Death! He pushed away the ninja he was fighting with and raised his sword, twirling it nimbly so that the holy symbol in its pommel was against the palm of his hand. Holding it forth toward the ninja, he cried “Turn!” in a commanding voice.

  The ninja shrieked and burst into a million tiny particles of dust.

  The paladin turned to find Joanna leveling her spear at the last remaining zombie ninja. She paused for a moment, watching as the ninja put on an elaborate display of nunchuk agility.

  “Is that the one that kicked me in the face?” Joanna asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Just asking…”

  Daphne pulled the spear from the ninja’s chest and buried it briefly in his nads.

  Luster finally struggled free of Agrippa’s spell, just as the tattooed Mort began to cast another. She quickly waved her arms and began to chant, hurling a luminescent blue-white sphere at him, shattering the green light of his spell. Agrippa shook his burnt hands as Silence leapt up beside him, delivering another rabbit punch and freezing him in place.

  Silence snapped his fingers in front of Agrippa’s face. No response. Osric touched the staff to Flynn’s chest, and the bard shook himself as if waking from a deep sleep.

  Silence grabbed Agrippa’s chin, moving his mouth and speaking in a ridiculous falsetto voice. “I’m Mort Agrippa. I control ninja zombies! Are they zinjas? Are they nombies? I don’t kno-oow!”

  Luster and Silence forced Agrippa into a sitting position and tied him to a chair. The stood over him menacingly, the tip of Daphne’s spear leveled at his chest.

  * * * *

  Lodge leaned back in his chair and said, in a satisfied voice, “Mort Agrippa ain’t goin’ nowhere….”

  Leo looked quizzically at Lodge for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like the two of them were on the same side in a campaign….

  As usual, it was Cass who interrupted the feeling of camaraderie.

  “Oh, monks you have a problem with but, hey, ninjas are ok?”

  Leo thought for a split second, then decided that he was more concerned about keeping this feeling going than about letting Cass complain about his monk. He leaned forward, pointing his finger commandingly at Lodge.

  “Tell us where Mort Kemnon is!” he ordered in his Flynn voice. Lodge responded immediately, in his weasely Mort voice.

  “Do your worst. Kill me, if you must. I will never tell!”

  “Gosh,” Cass joined in. “We’ll have to torture him.”

  “Oh, darn,” Gary said, sounding not at all disappointed. Leo rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  “You’ll have to think of something else,” Lodge informed them. “Torture is dishonorable. Osric,” he pointed out, flourishing Osric’s character sheet “won’t allow it.”

  “God I love paladins,” Cass said through clenched teeth.

  Joanna looked inquiringly at Lodge. “Can’t he just step outside for a while?”

  Lodge turned to face her, shaking his head. “Actually, no. Paladins can’t let evil acts happen if they know about them. It’s his alignment.”

  “Yeah,” Gary added. “They’re Lawful Stupid.”

  “I’ll distract him,” Leo offered. “I’ll tell him there’s a ninja outside.”

  “I seriously doubt he’d fall for that,” Lodge answered skeptically.

  “Normally,” Cass pointed out, “the dice decide that sort of thing.” Cass held up a d20, which Leo took from his outstretched palm.

  * * * *

  “Look, Sir Osric! An evildoer, outside!” Flynn pointed out the doorway into the night.

  Leo rolled Cass’s die.

  “WHAT?!” Osric bellowed, alight with righteous fury. Drawing his sword, he ran with a mighty roar through the door and into the darkness. Flynn turned a thumbs up to Silence and Luster, who immediately began to clobber their bound prisoner. Silence horse-punched Agrippa in the face, and Luster followed with a spinning uppercut, punctuated with a cry of “Hadoken!!” She swung so hard, the follow-through nearly threw her to the floor.

  Outside the inn, Osric stormed about, seeking the evildoer. “Show yourself, Villain!” he cried into the darkness. “Thou canst not escape my justice! Come forward, so that I may smite thee with my mighty blade!”

  Hm, thought Daphne, usually when Osric gets going with the archaic language, he sounds very unique but that…that had the sound of something that had been said before… She returned her attention to Luster and Silence, assessing their beating of the prisoner so that she could gauge the best time to begin interrogating him. Osric’s voice drifted in from the night.

  “The truth shall descend upon thy wickedness as an angel of righteous fury!”

  Flynn watched from the open doorway, the sounds of Agrippa’s beating floating out into the sable sky.

  Inside the inn, Silence and Luster each stuck a finger in one of Agrippa’s ears. Luster picked up Agrippa’s right hand and began slapping his face with it. “Why are you necromancing yourself?” Luster teased. “Quit necromancing yourself!” Silence ended Luster’s fun by crashing a large, solid object over Agrippa’s head.

  Osric paced angrily, peering into s
hadows and finding nothing. His fury began to subside, and as he approached the inn he heard the sounds of his party members beating their prisoner.

  “Deceivers!” he cried, unable to believe that they would lie to him this way, these comrades who had stood with him now in multiple battles. “This ends now!” he stormed back toward the inn. From the doorway, Flynn pointed into the distance.

  “He’s over there!”

  Leo rolled again.

  Osric ran off in the direction Flynn was pointing. “Thou shalt die a thousand deaths, shadow-spawn! I shall mete out my justice upon thy loathsome brow!” Flynn turned away from Osric, watching the action inside.

  Agrippa began to laugh maniacally. His body faded out of existence, along with the ropes that bound him. Well, Flynn thought, I guess that’s over, then. He went back inside, followed swiftly by Osric, who stared at Agrippa’s empty chair.

  “What happened here?” the paladin asked suspiciously.

  “Funny story, strangest thing,” Silence evaded.

  “He tripped,” Luster offered, “and on the way down he accidentally beat himself to death.” Osric looked skeptical.

  “Yes,” Silence supported Luster’s tale. Osric still wasn’t certain, but clearly he wasn’t going to find out anything else about that.

  “Did he say where Mort Kemnon was?” he asked instead.

  “Not as such, no,” Luster faltered. He quickly decided that no good could come from the paladin finding out that they hadn’t actually asked any questions. The mage moved quickly to change the subject. “Did you find that evildoer?” he asked.

  Osric hung his head. “He escaped. My shame knows no bounds.”

  “Aawww,” Luster empathized. “Yeah, yeah you suck…” Silence nodded in agreement.

  Daphne turned to the bard. “Flynn, what did the barmaid say?”

  “Uh...’Oh yes, Oh yes, Oh gods yes.’” Flynn recited.

  “About Mort Kemnon, dumbass.”

  The barmaid says Mort Agrippa came from Westhaven. Following her advice, you abandon the inn and take to the road to the east. You put some good miles between yourself and the town, before you camp for the night a few miles outside of Westhaven.

  Chapter 9: The Road To Westhaven

  Flynn placidly strummed his mandolin as the fire burned down to glowing embers. Luster sidled over to where Daphne sat, polishing the tip of her spear. No Freudian imagery there, Silence thought.

  “Hi….” Luster spoke to Daphne in a low voice. “You know, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Right back atcha,” Daphne replied in a wry tone that Luster didn’t stop to understand.

  “So fast, so strong…” Luster took the polishing cloth from Daphne’s hand, breathing deep of its scent. “Like steel wrapped in silk,” he continued, touching her chin lightly. “A man could lose himself in those eyes.”

  “A man could, yes,” Daphne answered mildly. “But apparently,” she raised her hand to gently caress Luster’s cheek as she murmured, “I must remind you that you’re a woman.” Daphne leaned back again, an ironic smile playing on her lips.

  “Of course I am,” Luster realized. After a moment’s consideration, she walked her fingers up Daphne’s shoulder with an impish grin. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a little girl on girl aaaa…..!” Her words cut off with an agonized shriek as Daphne grabbed her wrist and elbow in a painful lock.

  “You don’t really want to finish that thought do you…?” Daphne asked lightly.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Luster groaned excruciatingly.

  “Good girl.” Daphne tossed Luster’s arm away. The mage fled to her bedroll and began to sulk over her spell book. Silence gave the scene a moment’s inscrutable consideration, then turned his attention to the bard.

  “Tell me minstrel, what do you know of this… Mort Kemnon?”

  “He is a servant of Death, an enemy of the Light. And that is all I can tell you.”

  Silence and Osric stared expectantly at Flynn, clearly disappointed.

  “And the Mask of Death….?” Silence prompted, as Osric gestured encouragingly.

  “Ah! The God of Oblivion wore the Mask when the Creator forged the world. It is said that whoever wears the Mask gains the power of the god he serves.”

  “Then Mort Kemnon has all the powers of Death? How could Therin allow this?” Daphne asked. Osric merely frowned uncomfortably.

  “It may be beyond her control,” Silence offered. “Before we left, the Hierophant told us that Therin is missing.”

  “Missing?” Flynn said, uncomprehending.

  “Trapped,” Osric lamented sternly.

  “How could this be?” Silence asked, looking to the bard.

  “I have no idea.”

  Hearing Flynn’s reply, Osric rested his head in his hands as Silence stared in disbelief.

  Dice roll.

  “Actually, I do!” Flynn amended.

  “Bardic knowledge” he said with a jubilant smile as a disembodied hand offered him a note card. Flynn offered a cheery “thank you” as he grasped the card and began to read.

  “Long ago, young Jack Lightfingers stole beauty from the mermaids. The Lord of the Sea was angry, and sent his waves to drown Jack, but Jack was too clever. He led the Sea King inland, stretching out the waves, which sucked,” he finished proudly.

  He looked up to find Osric staring at him impatiently and Silence watching him in dismay. ‘Turn it over’ Osric mouthed, gesturing as if he were flipping the card over. Flynn finally caught on, turning the card over and continuing to read.

  “Out the Sea King’s power, as there was not enough water to drown Jack. Then, Jack trapped the God of the Sea in a prison of ice, and …. What’s that word?”

  Flynn held the card out to Osric for assistance.

  “Ransomed.”

  “Ransomed him back to the merfolk.”

  “Boring!” Gary yawned.

  “Interesting,” Daphne disagreed. “But what exactly does this have to do with Therin?”

  “The only way to trap a deity is in a prison of that god’s own element,” the bard explained. The group pondered for a moment, wondering what, exactly, this meant to their quest. Silence, deciding he had discovered the wisdom of the situation, nodded sagely.

  “Indeed,” the monk droned, “the four elements, like man alone, are weak. But together…” He clasped his hands in a gesture of solidarity and strength. “…they form the strong fifth element... Boron. WWWaaaa!”

  The heroes stared at Silence, who nodded knowingly.

  “We should go to bed soon,” Osric suggested. “Morning is coming.”

  “We must get our rest if we’re to find Mort Kemnon,” Daphne agreed.

  Luster’s head snapped up from her book. Bathed in green light, she slowly rose up off the ground, hovering jerkily in midair like a marionette dangling on carelessly-pulled strings. After a moment, she spoke in an eerie, echoing voice.

  “And what if I should find you first?”

  The heroes sprang to their feet as one.

  “Abandon this road,” Luster continued, “or die on it!”

  “Save your threats,” Silence dismissed the interloper. “You have no power here.”

  A bolt of blackened lightning leapt from Luster’s hands, enveloping the bard. Flynn’s lifeless body stared emptily at the full moon above.

  “As if killing the bard impresses us,” Silence scoffed.

  “You shall never obtain the Mask of Death!” the possessed Luster assured them.

  “We do not fear you!” Daphne avowed.

  “Then,” replied Luster, “you are greater fools than you appear!”

  “You sound afraid,” Silence interjected.

  Luster laughed darkly. “You don’t believe me? Then come. Come and face… Drazuul!”

  Luster’s body fell to the ground, landing heavily on her bedroll. The others rushed to her side.

  * * * *

  “And I t
hink we’ll call it there for the night,” Lodge decided.

  “What?” Gary objected. “It’s still early!”

  “It’s after two,” Lodge pointed out.

  “It’s what?!” Joanna looked up at the clock on the wall, searching the ornate compass-rose face as the gamers packed up their gear. “I had no idea it was so late!”

  “See?” gloated Cass. “See what happens? You get so into it, you can’t help but lose track of time.” Joanna looked sheepish. She had clearly just lost an old argument.

  “Yeah,” agreed Gary. “It’s like surfing the net for por…litical commentary.” Whew! For a moment, he had forgotten that Joanna was a girl…

  “Nice dodge, Gary.”

  ‘”Thanks,” Gary said, turning briefly to Leo before facing the rest of the group again. “Same time next week?”

  “Can’t do it here,” Leo apologized. “We’re having a tourney.”

  Cass cringed. Ah well, he thought generously, I suppose Leo has to do whatever pays the bills. There are worse ways to prostitute yourself, I guess. Cass couldn’t think of any. Vile little collectible card game dweebs.

  “Uh – we could do it at my place,” Lodge offered hesitantly. “I mean, I...I’ve got plenty of space.”

  “Right on” Cass approved, and the other gamers added their assent.

  * * * *

   Leo pulled his motorcycle out in front of the store. Gary and Cass trotted up to meet him.

  “If this is about that farmer, I totally thought he was a demon!” Leo quoted. They all laughed, thoroughly entertained. “That was awesome!” Gary exulted.

  Cass climbed onto the back of the bike, and Gary settled in just in front of Leo behind the handlebars, looking a lot like a kid riding on the front of a bicycle.

  “Onward – to waffles!!” Cass exclaimed.

  Cass and Gary gestured forward as the three shouted together, “waffles, HO!”

  Joanna looked quizzically at Lodge. “They did good, so they get waffles,” he explained. Apparently, there was a lot more to gaming than what was in the handbook….

  Chapter 10: Evolving Naturally

  Kevin couldn’t let Joanna walk back to her bus stop alone this time of night. As they strolled, she thanked him for letting her join the game. She had always wanted to understand what the big deal was, she said, and she had really enjoyed joining them tonight.