Homerooms and Hall Passes

by Tom O'Donnell

  “C’mon,” said Devis. “We beat the curse. We didn’t die. We even had a few laughs along the way. Things are looking pretty— Aw, man!”

  Devis had reflexively checked his phone and realized he wasn’t getting any service.

  “Devis is right,” said Vela, gazing toward the horizon. “We can once more resume our adventuring career. Fighting evil!”

  “Finding treasure,” said Devis.

  “Feasting upon blackened meats,” said Thromdurr.

  “And getting revenge on those stupid minotaurs,” said Sorrowshade.

  The party turned to Albiorix, perhaps hoping he would add something. He didn’t.

  “Though I will concede it is a shame we did not get to defeat Zazirak,” said Thromdurr. “I sense the empty feeling coming on. . . .”

  “Then let us find a new quest to test our mettle,” said Vela. “To the Wyvern’s Wrist! Plenty of quests there!”

  It wasn’t until the first gnome they passed along the road burst out laughing that the heroes remembered they were still wearing the strange garb of Suburbia. As soon as they reached the hamlet of Pighaven, the group made for the town tailor, then the blacksmith. Soon they had ditched their hoodies and sneakers and attired themselves in the clothing and equipment of Bríandalör, including proper weapons.

  “Well, well, well, I ain’t seen you young folks in here for a spell,” said the owner of the Wyvern’s Wrist as they entered.

  “We were magically trapped inside a game,” said Vela.

  “The one you play on Thursdays? With them wee little figurines?” said the innkeeper as she polished her flagons. “That’s too bad, innit?”

  “What can you do?” said Vela with a shrug. “Anyway, might I have a simple plate of bread and cheese?”

  “Certainly,” said the innkeeper. “And for the rest of you?”

  “Sheep,” said Thromdurr. “Well done.”

  “The whole sheep?” said the innkeeper.

  “Not the hooves,” said Thromdurr.

  The innkeeper nodded and turned to Devis. Devis studied the menu.

  “What is your soup of the day?” said Devis.

  “Turnip,” said the innkeeper. “Also the soup of tomorrow. And the soup every day thereafter till the end of the Age of Man.”

  “Hmm. Is there any chance you could do something with egg and cheese, like a nice stracciatella?” said Devis.

  The innkeeper stared at him.

  “Okay. No problem. How about a white borscht?”

  The innkeeper stared at him.

  “Fine,” said Devis. “Turnip soup it is.”

  “And for you, O wondrous child of the forest?” said the innkeeper to Sorrowshade.

  “Doesn’t matter. Human food is gross,” said Sorrowshade. “Surprise me.”

  “Two orders of turnip soup, then.” The innkeeper turned to Albiorix.

  The wizard shook his head. The innkeeper rolled her eyes. The party sat down at a corner table, and a few seconds later, a mysterious man with an eye patch approached.

  “Hail, travelers,” said the man, with a courtly bow, “I could not help but notice you have the dangerous and worldly look of adventu—”

  “So nobody took you up on the map yet, huh?” said Sorrowshade.

  “Er, no,” said the man. “Which is really too bad. The Caves of Thunderbeard are filled with riches untold, and it—”

  A woman in an elaborate headdress elbowed her way past the man with the eye patch. “I offer a handsome reward to any who can rid the Manglewood of giant spiders!”

  “Hey, back off, lady,” said the eye patch man.

  “What?” said the headdress woman with a shrug. “Free kingdom.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” said Devis. “I think we might already be doing Caves of Thunderbeard.”

  “You are!” said the man with the eye patch, clapping his hands together.

  “We are?” said Sorrowshade.

  “Hmm,” said Vela. “Might we have a moment to confer among ourselves?”

  “Certainly,” said the man. “If you need me, I shall be by the fire. Brooding.” And with a ruffle of his dark cloak, he withdrew.

  “Maybe you could do the giant spider thing on the way back from that other dungeon?” said the headdress woman. “Just a thought.” She also turned to go.

  “So . . . Caves of Thunderbeard?” said Vela. “Yea or nay?”

  “Untold riches sounds pretty good,” said Devis. “As of now, I’m a soft yes.”

  “I am in as well,” said Thromdurr. “No use tarrying. ’Tis better to delve into some horrible dungeon than sit around with our thoughts as company.”

  “Yeah, why not?” said Sorrowshade. “Though eye patch over there is definitely going to betray us.”

  The rest of the party nodded in assent, and they began to discuss their strategy for the inevitable double cross.

  “I don’t know, guys,” said Albiorix, breaking in. “What’s the point?”

  The group fell silent. Vela cleared her throat.

  “Well, this is an adventure,” said the paladin. “We are adventurers.”

  “Was it all just some make-believe fantasy?” said Albiorix. “Mr. Gulazarian and morning announcements and Nicole Davenport and . . . and June?”

  “’Twas an ancient curse, friend,” said Thromdurr. “Nothing more.”

  “The food was pretty good, though,” said Devis.

  “No, it wasn’t,” said Sorrowshade. “You complained about soup nonstop!”

  “What? I never! How dare you?” said Devis. “I would kill for a piping-hot mug of Dad Stinky’s Cullen skink right now!”

  “I don’t think I can do this adventure with you,” said Albiorix. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

  And without another word, the wizard stood and walked out the door of the Wyvern’s Wrist.

  And so Albiorix the wizard left the hamlet of Pighaven and struck out into the wilderness alone. He faced many perils along the way, and by cunning and bravery and, yes, sorcery, he survived them all. And at last he found himself standing before a lonely cliffside and a weathered portico that resembled the jaws of a great beast.

  With a simple incantation, he lit the way forward and descended into the depths of the Temple of Azathor. And down in the darkness he fought his way past a tribe of reluctant and traumatized goblins (who were only just starting to rebuild after their last tragic encounter with adventurers). And he blithely passed a disarmed poison dart trap without even noticing it and walked right though an open magical door, though he would have easily guessed the answer to its riddle was “Love.” And at last he came to a grand hall of fallen columns and piled bones. He saw a doorway with an inscription in Old Dragonian. The wizard stopped.

  “Well, I’m here,” said Albiorix to himself. “Now what?”

  But there was no one around to answer. He peeked inside the vault. It was empty now. Someone had thoroughly looted it in the interim. They’d even taken the throne. Albiorix sat down on a toppled statue to think. And soon sleep overtook him.

  Table 224h: Random Hallway Encounters

  Whenever characters travel between school locations, roll three times on the following table to determine who/what they encounter along the way.

  1 to 3: Two bullies, spoiling for a fight

  4 to 5: One to six students loudly rehearsing lines for the school play

  6 to 9: A discarded note (roll once on Table 601d: Passed Notes to determine its contents)

  10 to 13: One to four popular kids, gossiping about one of the characters

  14 to 15: The custodian, mopping up a particularly disgusting spill (roll once on Table 336v: Disgusting Spills to determine what it is)

  16: The district superintendent making a surprise school visit . . .

  —Excerpt from The Hall Master’s Guide

  THE WIZARD AWOKE TO a sound coming from the tunnels behind him. He scrambled behind a pile of rubble. Soon faint torchlight flickered on the stonework, and he saw four figures enter th
e chamber.

  “Albiorix?” called Vela.

  “You here, Magic Man?” said Devis.

  “Curses!” said Thromdurr. “We are too late!”

  “No,” said Sorrowshade. “He’s over there. I can hear him breathing.”

  Albiorix stood up. “Don’t try to stop me. I know Homerooms & Hall Passes is just a game, but Zazirak is still in there. I cannot allow him to just destroy Suburbia. I’m not going to let that happen to June, even if she is a nonplayer character. I’m going back!”

  “We are not here to stop you, sorcerous friend,” said Thromdurr.

  “What?” said Albiorix.

  “We want to come with you,” said Vela.

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” said Albiorix.

  “You do not have to ask,” said Vela. “I stand against evil. The innocents of Suburbia must be saved.”

  The paladin stepped forward.

  “It will be my pleasure to smash the warlock yet again,” said Thromdurr, brandishing his newly forged war hammer. “’Tis a rare joy to kill a foe twice.”

  The barbarian stepped forward.

  “And if we go back, I can finally charge my phone again,” said Devis. “I’m at like eight percent.”

  The thief stepped forward.

  “But you all heard the Archmage Velaxis,” said Albiorix. “If we return, we’re on our own.”

  “Story of my life,” said Sorrowshade. “So let’s be on our own together.”

  The assassin stepped forward.

  “All right,” said Albiorix. “So . . . how do we do this?”

  “Well, perhaps our best hope is to re-create the series of events that brought the curse upon us in the first place,” said Vela. “First, Devis stole something from that hidden chamber.”

  “Too bad it’s empty,” said Albiorix.

  “Not quite,” said Devis, who was already inside the room and using his dagger to pry something from between the floor stones. “Whoever cleaned out this place was a complete amateur.” He held up a single tarnished copper piece that had somehow been left behind.

  “You know we split that five ways,” said Sorrowshade.

  “Split what?” said Devis, who showed the gloom elf both sides of his now-empty hands. He’d already pocketed the coin.

  “That’s step one,” said Sorrowshade. “Then we played Homerooms & Hall Passes.”

  “Right! Our ‘respite,’” said Albiorix. “But we’ve got to do this quick!”

  The wizard blew a thick layer of dust off a nearby sarcophagus and dumped out all his gaming gear—maps, miniatures, dice, and books. The other adventurers gathered around.

  “Okay, you’re all at school. It’s”—Albiorix rolled a handful of dice and consulted The Hall Master’s Guide—“seven twenty-seven Wednesday morning, at J. A. Dewar Middle School. You have three minutes to first bell. What do you do?”

  “Valerie the Overacheiver steels her spirit for a final clash against evil,” said Vela. “She turns to the others and says, ‘Time to overachieve our destiny.’”

  “Great,” said Albiorix.

  “Douglas the Nerd calls upon his nerdly ancestors to bring him strength,” said Thromdurr.

  “You feel the Schillers of old watching over you,” said Albiorix.

  “Melissa the Loner pulls up her hood,” said Sorrowshade. “Her eyes are inky pools of blackness now, filled with otherworldly purpose. She is ready.”

  “Ooh,” said Albiorix. “Evocative.”

  “And Stinky the Class Clown will use his phone to find a hedgehog meme that is perfect for this occasion,” said Devis.

  “Ah,” said Albiorix. “Roll your Computer skill.”

  Devis scooped up the dice and rolled them. “That’s a 22!”

  “Success,” said Albiorix. “After careful searching, you find a picture of a tough-looking hedgehog in a little cowboy hat. It says, ‘MESS WITH THE HOG YOU GET THE PRICKLES.’”

  “Nice!” said Devis. “So do you guys think that’s enough H&H-ing?”

  “Let us hope so,” said Vela. “The final step was when Albiorix proclaimed the curse aloud.”

  The wizard nodded and took a deep breath. Then he gazed up at the inscription chiseled into the stone.

  “Woe to thee who loots this room. . . . Let thy respite be thy doom.”

  His words echoed through the empty chambers and mazy tunnels of the underground temple. The adventurers stared at each other. And then they were gone.

  The five Bríandalörians suddenly found themselves standing in the crowded hallway of J. A. Dewar Middle School. The cacophony of kid noises was a jarring contrast with the eerie silence of the Temple of Azathor.

  “Ha! Here we go with the costumes again,” said Evan Cunningham. “Spirit Week is over, losers. Go back to Ye Olde Renaissance Faire!”

  “So great to be back,” said Devis. “Should we save the world now?”

  The party walked down the hall. Up ahead, Nicole Davenport, Madison Gray, and Sophie Sorrentino stood in a tight cluster by the water fountain. They whispered and giggled, then went conspicuously silent as the party passed.

  “Melissa, hiiiii-eee,” said Nicole with a smirk. “I was just telling Sophie and Madison what you did at Fall Festival last year. I don’t care if you thought it was a candy bar, that was dis-gust-ing.”

  Sorrowshade smiled and put her hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Pity is not an emotion an assassin often feels, but . . . I do pity you.”

  Nicole’s smile faltered. “What? You don’t pity me! I’m amazing! My life is amazing! Just look online! You’re the weirdo with the freaky ears!”

  “Exactly,” said Sorrowshade. “And one day I hope you have some real friends. Like I do.” She waved to Albiorix, Devis, Vela, and Thromdurr.

  “Um, excuse me?” said Sophie. “She has real friends. We’re her besties!”

  “Yeah, we’re her besties!” said Madison.

  “Oh, shut up, Madison,” said Nicole. “All you ever do is repeat what other people say! It’s incredibly annoy—”

  “Don’t tell her to shut up,” said Sophie, furrowing her brow.

  Nicole blinked, apparently speechless. “But I alw—”

  “Yeah, Nicole,” said Madison. “You’re not our, like, boss or whatever.”

  Before Nicole could respond, the first bell rang. The party left the popular girls behind and approached a cluster of students staring out the windows to the parking lot.

  “Dude, that is not normal,” said Dave Pittman.

  Outside, it was immediately clear that something about the weather was . . . off. Strange winds blew through the empty streets of Hibbettsfield, whipping the trees and kicking up little whirlwinds of trash. The sky was all thunderheads that seemed to converge in a swirling vortex in the distance. Green lightning flashed.

  “Not good,” said Albiorix. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that storm is Zazirak related. From what I remember of the Malonomicon, the ritual to conjure forth a greater demon is long and complicated, but we may not have much time left.”

  “Guys!”

  The heroes turned to see June, who looked terrified. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What is even happening out there?”

  “The warlock Zazirak is summoning a demon to end the world,” said Sorrowshade. “Cool jacket.”

  “Thanks,” said June. “So I take it you didn’t beat him?”

  “Quite the opposite,” said Devis.

  “We are lucky to be alive,” said Vela. “Praise the Powers of Light.”

  “Bah!” said Thromdurr. “The battle was cut short before we could claim victory!”

  “We were all magically paralyzed,” said Albiorix.

  “Indeed,” said Thromdurr, “the perfect way to lure our enemy into a false sense of security!”

  “So is there any way to stop him?” said June. “Or should I go home and say goodbye to my cat?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know,” said Albiorix. “But we’re going to try. And we need yo
u to come with us.”

  “I thought it was too dangerous,” said June.

  “Oh, it most certainly is,” said Albiorix. “But Zazirak beat us last time. It’s clear we could use every bit of help we can get.”

  “Really?” said June.

  Vela put a hand on June’s arm. “Congratulations, June Westray. You are an adventurer now.”

  “All right!” said June, pumping her fist.

  “So,” said Sorrowshade, throwing her hood up, “are you ready to march into the gaping jaws of certain doom?”

  “Sure, yeah,” said June. “Let me just grab my phone.”

  June jogged off toward her locker. Despite the clearly supernatural weather, the other JADMS students had begun to pull themselves away from the window and head to their homerooms to avoid being marked tardy.

  “We should go,” said Albiorix.

  “Yes,” said Vela. “But there is one thing I must do first.”

  The paladin strode off in the direction of room 311. The tardy bell rang. Devis plugged his phone into a nearby outlet, and on the wall-mounted TV nearby, the title sequence of morning announcements began to play.

  “Gooooood morning, Titans. I’m Olivia Gorman, and this is the J. A. Dewar morning bulletin,” said Olivia. “Today is Wednesday, October fourteenth. For lunch we will have chicken sandwich or hot dog. Don’t forget: Today is the last day to sign up for auditions for the school play. Please use the clipboard outside room 206. And now Valerie Stumpf-Turner will lead us in the Pledge of Allegiance even though she’s an election thief.”

  Olivia crossed her arms. The Bríandalörians braced themselves.

  “Oh, no,” said June, who had returned from her locker. “Her one thing was doing the school announcements?”

  “I guess?” said Albiorix, who almost couldn’t bear to watch.

  Devis clucked his tongue. “And you thought the end of the world was going to be painful.”

  Yet Vela spoke confidently in a clear and commanding voice: “Thank you, Olivia. Regretfully, I must skip the Pledge of Allegiance today, for my time is short. At this moment, your school, your town, your very world faces grave peril—an ancient evil beyond all comprehension. I warn you, do not venture outside, do not unlock your doors, and if you see anything unusual, do not engage. Instead, flee as fast as you can. The last thing you must not do is despair. For I, and my brave companions, are on our way to confront this evil right now. Though this is not our world, we have come to love it as our own, and we will fight to the last breath to protect it. I have no doubt that light will triumph over darkness. Thank you, and be safe. Farewell.”