By Donovan Bertch
Originally Published in Unfading Daydream Vol. 1 #1
The sun peeked out from over the horizon, barely pushing through the throng of clouds that threatened to snuff it out. Its golden rays illuminated the barren wasteland, glinting off the crystalline structures that jutted from the earth. Footsteps echoed in the air. The clanking and clinking of armor could be heard from miles away, were anyone around to listen. The source of all this racket, a figure cloaked in mail and an iron helm, strode across the wastes. Her target: the castle that lay at Land’s End.
For the past few months, dark creatures from across the world had come together as one for a council, their purpose unknown. Evidently, these councils had been convening for some time, but the Kingdom’s spies had only recently uncovered even the tiniest scrap of evidence proving there was something going on. To that end, they sent their most decorated knight to uncover the truth, and prevent a possible catastrophe.
As the castle grew closer and closer, the knight wondered just what dark forces were coalescing in that ominous place...
---
Dyarc, Lord of All That is Evil and Master of the Arcane, slammed his hands down on the table. His cloak billowed as he rose from his throne, as if a foul wind had swept the room. The wooden structure trembled as he slid his hands to its sides, his fingers coiling around the wood like a snake about to take a bite out of its dinner. His eyes flickered to his assorted guests. Minax, General-President of the Goblin Hordes. Flametooth, the Dragon King. Salazar, Prince of the Reptilians. Eoland, Queen of the Elves. Dyarc took a deep breath as he began to address his council.
“I’ve let you all get away with a good number of things in our time together. I’ve allowed you no shortage of opportunities to redeem yourself from your past mistakes. But this? This, I cannot forgive, nor can I allow.”
Eoland scowled at the dark lord, her eyes narrowed in fury. “I made my decision. Now honor it.”
Dyarc could almost feel the splinters begin to pierce his hands as his grip tightened. “...how many times must I say this, you impertinent little brat?
You. Cannot. Seduce. The boat!”
Eoland groaned, her wings fluttering as she flopped back dramatically in her seat. It would have been amusing seeing someone so tiny put on such a grand performance, if Dyarc’s dramatics threshold hadn’t already been reached about ten minutes ago. “Why not? I’ve got ranks in seduction! And I’m not seducing it, Flora is!”
“It’s an inanimate object!” Dyarc protested, intensifying his grip on the table. “There’s no point!”
Minax snorted, stretching her arm with a grumble. “Look, the captain said “she’s a fine vessel,” didn’t he? That means it has some level of personification.”
“It’s what sea captains do!” Dyarc let go of the table, storming to the Minax’s seat. “I’m certain you troglodytes wouldn’t understand the nuances of sea travel, considering the only water you tread is a bunch of cave puddles!”
Salazar rolled his eyes. “Are we really doing this again? I mean, come on, some of us have empires to rule. I promised my father I’d be back in time for his conquest of the Elven Lands, and we’re already an hour late as is.”
Dyarc sneered. “Well, we would have been ready to go if somebody,” he proclaimed, his gaze fixating on Flametooth, “hadn’t decided that fighting a bunch of dwarves was more important than punctuality!”
“I said I was sorry!” Flametooth puffed a breath of steam out of his nose, scowling. “What was I supposed to do? Let the runts take all of my hard-earned gold?”
“Hard-earned...I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that burning down villages counted as manual labor!”
“I got a 15,” Eoland interrupted, gesturing to her dice. “Add the modifier, that brings me to a nice 18.” The tiny fairy fluttered out of her seat, sauntering up to the model. “I walk up to the boat and say, ‘Hey, baby, how about you and me go on a love cruise together?’”
Dyarc sputtered as the fairy wrapped her arm around the model. “I just said you couldn’t do that!”
“But I got an 18!”
“That’s not the point!”
Salazar snarled, the sound coming out as a prolonged hiss. “Then, the point is...what exactly?”
Dyarc groaned, moving around the table and grabbing the boat model mid-seduction. Eoland let out an indignant growl.
“I was scoring there!”
“The point,” Dyarc replied, ignoring the fairy’s protests as he pocketed the model, “is that this is my story to tell. You all can have your fun with it, but I told you from the beginning: what I say goes.”
Minax stood, the table rumbling as she placed down her grog. “Yeah, sure, pull DM fiat over something stupid. I’m going to get some more jerky. Anyone want anything?”
“Water, please, my throat is parched,” Flametooth coughed. Bursts of smoke billowed from his mouth, nearly engulfing Eoland. “Oh, and those little candies if we have any left.”
“Butterscotch or Peppermint?”
“Butterscotch.”
“Ooh, ooh,” Eoland waved her hand like a schoolchild in class. “I want another one of those things Salazar made! What were they again?”
Salazar smirked, holding his arms wide in a dramatic gesture. “I call them Stuffed Buns a la ‘Zar!”
“Yeah, the cream puffs!”
Salazar’s expression deflated. “C’mon, I worked hard on that name.”
“But they’re cream puffs, right?”
He sighed. “Yes, yes they are. Oh, and I’ll have another mutton, Minax.”
“Got it.”
Dyarc sighed as he returned to his chair, seating himself with a dejected slump. “I’ll have another wine, if we’re placing orders.”
“Game Masters get their own drink,” the goblin scoffed.
Dyarc scowled, holding out a hand. A swirling mass of purple began to take shape. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard. Could you repeat that?”
Minax’s face darkened for a moment, before a mask of cheer took over her expression. “...red or white, o dark and benevolent one?”
“Red will do just fine,” Dyarc replied, dissipating the swirling mist with a clench of his palm.
Minax left the room, grumbling under her breath. Flametooth coughed again, rubbing at his throat, as he reached for his character sheet. “So, if we’re on a break-”
“This is the only one you’ll get until the session is over,” Dyarc warned, “So make it snappy.”
“Right, right.” Flametooth waved a claw dismissively. “I’ll try. I’ve been wondering about what I want to get for my next feat after this session.”
Salazar leaned forward, his forked tongue slipping out of his mouth for a moment before quickly retracting. “You’re assuming you’ll live after what you did to the Netherlings?” His gaze flitted towards Dyarc, who scowled in return. Scratching at a flaky scale on his arm, Salazar continued, “I think you’d be better off just rolling your new guy now before you become dinner for some sinister creature...no offense to any present company, of course,” Salazar added quickly as Minax returned from the other room.
“Well, he let me roll to perform the dance!” Flametooth argued.
Dyarc rubbed his temples, his eyebrow offering the slightest of twitches. “I still don’t know what possessed me to do so.”
“You can’t even take credit for being slightly fun for once?” Minax asked, placing the collection of food in the middle of the table. “Way to shed that grim-and-proper image, Mr. Lord of Arcane.”
“That’s Lord of Evil,” Dyarc muttered, “And I’m not joking. I swear I was possessed!”
Eoland offered Flametooth a cheeky smirk, one which the dragon returned. “Well, I’m sure it was just your imagination,” the fairy piped up, her voice dripping with fake innocence. Dyarc sighed and grabbed his wine glass, swirling it around in that way only nobility can.
That is, the rest of the table thought, pretentiously.
“In any case, what feat were you thinking of?”
“Either Long Jump or Unique Weapon.” Flametooth flipped his sheet over, running his claw along the hastily scribbled item list on the backside. “I picked up that War Hammer some time back, and I think that if I get Long Jump I can do some real damage with it. On the other hand, if I get Unique Weapon, I can use it without any disadvantage holding me back.”
“Why not just sell it? That thing’s worth like, what,” Minax asked, taking her seat, “Fifty gold? You could get a nice Craftwerk weapon with that.”
“But I don’t want a Craftwerk weapon,” Flametooth said. “I want to hit people in the face with a War Hammer.”
Dyarc groaned. “Then just take Unique Weapon.”
“But what if I want to drop it on people’s heads?” Flametooth argued.
“You can do that with Unique Weapon, can’t you?” Eoland asked.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be airborne.”
“Who cares?!” Minax slammed her drink on the table, shaking the map and miniatures in the process. “Just pick one so we can get on with it!”
“What has you in such a hurry?” Dyarc asked, twirling his fingers through his long, dark mane. “We still have a couple hours to go. Are you trying to insinuate that you find this group to be beneath your refined tastes?”
“I just know if we get into this, we’ll never stop. So... stop.” Minax’s tone was icy enough to put the Frozen Lands to shame. It was her “I will murder everyone here and call it an accident” tone. Dyarc was one of the most powerful beings in the land, however. To surrender in this, even if it was a minor squabble, would be to refute that fact.
He did, however, not consider retreat a form of surrender.
“We’ll get back to this later,” Dyarc said, glancing down at his makeshift “screen.” He held up a hand as Eoland rose to speak. “And no, we’re done with the goddamned boat. Get over it.”
Eoland scowled, her wings beating in annoyance. “Fine. Sure. Suck all the fun out of it.”
“Why was the boat the most fun part to-no, no, we’re not doing this.” Dyarc cleared his throat, straightening his cravat as he got comfortable on his throne. “Now then. After a night’s worth of travel, the Aventis arrives at Stonetown. As you pull into port-”
The chamber doors burst open with a mighty slam, and panicked screaming filled the room.
“Oh, what now?!” Dyarc groaned
A skeleton, adorned in golden armor and a red scarf, stumbled into the room. “Y-your majesty, we have a situation!”
Dyarc slumped, an exasperated look on his face. “Define ‘situation,’ General?”
The General let out a panicked whimper before responding. “She just burst in and started taking everyone out! We tried to stop her, sir, but she was just too powerful!” The sound of metal-on-metal echoed through the open doors, as the skeleton looked back in panic. “There’s nothing we can do!”
The others glanced at each other, confusion seeping in. Flametooth was the first to speak, clearing his throat as his eyes fell upon the bony soldier. “Her? You mean there’s only one?”
“That shouldn’t be much of a problem, right?” Salazar added, crossing his arms. “There’s like, what, hundreds of you bone bags around? Shouldn’t even be a challenge.”
“Yes, but-” Their discussion was cut short with a loud crack. A human-sized, white-and-gold bullet zipped in and out of sight, followed by a resounding crash. The skeleton merely held his arms out towards the door, as if to say, “That.”
Minax pushed her chair out, standing up with a scowl on her face. “Okay, that’s it. I came here because you told me no one could find us-and obviously, that’s not the case. I’m not about to die over a damned game.”
The others began to follow suit, except for Dyarc. “You cowards! You call yourselves emperors?! Kings?!”
“Technically, I’m a President.”
“Prince.”
“King is more of a title.”
“I’m a Queen.”
Dyarc let out an indignant sputter. “Fine, then! I shall deal with this interloper myself!” He rose from his throne, holding out his hand. A mass of dark energy began to swirl within it. “You dastards may quiver in fear at even the mere sound of a single adventurer, but I am the Lord of all that is Evil! Master of the Arcane! None can strike terror into my-”
“Where are you?!” A voice cried out from outside the throne room.
Dyarc’s eyes widened. His spiral vanished in an instant. “...we have to go. Now.”
Eoland snickered, flying up to Dyarc. “I’m sorry, what? What happened to all of that big talk?”
The General took a step back. He had never seen Dyarc even remotely falter when he got into his “evil speech mode” before, but something about this intruder was enough to leave the cloaked Lord shaken. “Sire, that is an excellent idea. Follow me,” he continued, turning around. “I believe that we can take the passageway from the-”
A loud “thunk” brought an end to that line of thought, as the skeleton fell to the ground, his head rolling away. Looming over his bony frame was a figure clad in black armor. A helmet obscured her face, but heavy breathing could be heard from within. A red blade shone from the knight’s right hand, and a golden shield lay in their left. The figure stood silently, staring down the group. She raised their head, lowering the mouthpiece on her helmet. “...just what do you think you’re doing!?” a surprisingly airy voice asked, a tinge of a Northern accent in its tone.
“No…” Dyarc took a step back, holding his arm in front of him, as if to drive the figure back. “How did you find me here?!”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” the knight continued. The knight sheathed her sword, stomping forward. “What. Are. You. Doing?!”
“I-you don’t-it’s not what it looks like!” Dyarc stammered, scrambling back. His foot quickly became caught in his cape, and he toppled to the ground. At this, the others tensed. Salazar and Minax reached for their weapons, and Flametooth took a deep breath. Eoland dashed towards the table, grabbing the model boat she was lovingly caressing not five minutes earlier, and aiming it towards their attacker.
“Back off!” Eoland hurled the boat at the knight, the tiny figurine bouncing off the warrior’s helmet. The knight paused her stride, turning her head to face the fairy. She looked down, kneeling to pick up the figurine. As she rose, a sigh fell from her lips.
“Well, some things never change.” The warrior reached for her helmet, slowly shuffling it off her head. Blonde hair, tinged with streaks of grey, fell out and onto her shoulders. The knight’s face was stern, her expression scrunched in not anger, but annoyance. Piercing green eyes bore into Dyarc, who flinched in response. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young man.” The knight leaned down and grabbed Dyarc by his cravat, pulling him up to her eyeline. “I’d love to hear you explain how you decided to break your mother’s heart, Dennis!”
“Dennis!?” Salazar barked, his grin unbearably large.
“Mother?!” Flametooth gasped, a burst of fire coming out as his maw opened.
“Oh, this is going to be good.” Minax muttered, loosening her grip on her axe.
“...oh...my...Gods!” Eoland started laughing uproariously, flipping in the air in fits of giggles. “Dennis?! I thought your name was Dyarc?”
“Dya-” Xana groaned, shaking her head. “Dark. Dyarc. I see. Oh, Dennis, really? That’s what you go by?”
“What’s wrong with that name?” Dyarc asked in a huff, pulling himself up.
“You didn’t like the one I gave you?”
“I didn’t say that!”
Xana let out another dramatic sigh, looking up towards the ceiling. “You try to raise them right. You give them all the love you can muster, and what do they do? Go off and become a dark wizard! What happened to medical school, Denny? You were so excited for that!”
Dyarc growled, covering himself in his cloak. “I was meant for greater things, mother! You have no idea what-”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, mister!” Xana slammed her fist on the table, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Dyarc dropped his cloak, looking down to the floor.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Xana rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “And look at this place! You call this a home now, Dennis? It’s all damp and dark!”
“It’s what I could afford!”
“Well, maybe a doctor could have bought a nicer place than this!”
“I didn’t want to be a doctor, mother! I learned that once I discovered my true calling, as the Dark Lord of-”
“Why not?” She interrupted, wagging her finger. “Your father was a doctor, and your grandfather was one too, and they didn’t feel like raising the dead was better than five thousand gold a month!”
As the two bickered, the others stood in a dumbfounded silence (except for Eoland, who was still fighting off bursts of laughter). Minax, after a moment, cleared her throat. Xana turned her gaze to the group. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Minax began, “But-”
Xana’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Dennis! Are these your friends? Hi, I’m Xana,” she said, reaching out to shake Minax’s hand. The goblin blinked, thrown off for a moment, but returned the gesture. “I hope he hasn’t been too much of a handful for you all.” She eyed up Minax before turning back to Dyarc. “She seems like a catch, doesn’t she?” Eoland couldn’t hold back any longer, erupting in giggles and snickers. Salazar joined in, holding onto the table for leverage as he broke down into a mix of hisses and laughs.
“Mother, please!” Dyarc complained, striding over to the four. “Can you at least explain why you’re here before I have you removed from this castle?!”
“You will do no such thing,” Xana warned, crossing her arms. “And I’m here because I heard a rumor that there were some sinister goings-on here, an ‘evil council’ of some kind. To think that my son oversaw them!” She made a show of swooning, covering her eyes with a dramatic flair. “And I come here to find that it’s worse-you’re still playing those silly games! It’s just too much!”
Eoland wiped a tear from her eye as she finally composed herself, flying up to Dyarc with a grin. “Ooh, I like her,” the fairy whispered.
“Of course you would,” Dyarc groaned. He walked up to his mother, keeling down. “Mother, I assure you, there has been a grave misunderstanding, and I assure you that it’s all very-”
Xana’s arm fell from her eyes and grabbed Dyarc’s collar once more. “We’ll talk about it at home, Dennis. You’re grounded, and we’re leaving right now.”
“What?!” Dyarc let out a yelp as his mother leapt from her chair, dragging him back up. “But-we’re not even finished yet!”
“Oh, yes you are,” Xana growled. “Just wait until your father hears about this.” She glanced over to the others, offering a smile. “I’m sorry, everyone, but Denny won’t be free to play his games anytime soon. I’m sure you understand. Thank you for being so friendly with him; he was never very social, so it’s nice to see he’s made some friends.”
“Don’t worry,” Minax answered, a sickly-sweet venom to her tone as she looked towards Dyarc. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.”
“You will pay for this betrayal!” Dyarc snarled at Minax. “The Goblin Hordes will know no peace as long as I draw breath!”
“Honestly, where did you pick up this attitude?” Xana asked with a shake of her head. “I bet it was those ballads, wasn’t it? They’re such a bad influence.” She pulled him towards the entryway, glancing down at The General’s detached head. “I’m sorry about earlier; standard knight business.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” the head replied. “It’s not my first castle invasion.”
Xana gave a nod before looking back one last time at the group. “If you ever want to come visit Denny, by the way, just go to Smielburg over in the North and ask for Xana. We’d be happy to have you over for dinner! Though,” she added, looking to Flametooth, “I may have to bring you something instead because...well.”
“It’s alright, ma’am,” Flametooth replied, picking a jagged tooth with his claw. “I appreciate the thought.”
“It’s no problem,” Xana replied. “Well then...we’ll be off. I’ll be sure to let the King know that this is all taken care of. Say goodbye, Denny.”
“I will have my vengeance upon you all!” Dyarc roared. “You will rue the day you crossed me!” Xana sighed before pulling her son out of the door and around the corner. Their footsteps and arguing echoed for a good ten seconds before fading away.
Everything was silent.
Flametooth spoke up first. “Did that just happen?”
“I told him we should have just rented out a tavern,” Salazar groused. “But no, he had to rent out a damned castle. ‘It has good ambiance. There’s nothing suspicious about a castle in the middle of a wasteland. We’ll be fine!’ “
“It’s not like karma wasn’t coming for him sooner or later,” Minax shrugged. “So…who’s going to DM?”
A small cough caught the trio’s attention. Eoland sat on top of the DM’s screen, a smile on her face. “After a ferocious argument with the captain of the ship, Flora has finally been allowed to stay with her one true love, the Aventis. She decides to take leave of your adventure in search of her own on the high seas. You all wave her farewell as you arrive in Stonetown.
What would you like to do first?”