Patrick stifled a yawn. He had been driving home for about 45 minutes after a long day at the office. It ended up being a slightly longer day at work than planned, with him only having gotten out of the office at 6.30pm. Patrick had been there since about 7.30am that morning trying to finalise a report before the weekend, but it was done, and he was home free. It was one of those days where he was in the office before the sun fully rose, and it was dark by the time he left. When he had looked at the weather app earlier in the day, frost was forecast for overnight. He shivered, and while it was already a pleasant temperature, bumped the heating up another few degrees.
[Incoming call from Mom]
His car cheerfully told him as the music on the radio was cut off for the phone to ring. Patrick’s finger hovered over the decline button. He loved his mum, he really did but after a long day at work the last thing he wanted was to be stuck on the phone with her for an hour while she told him everything that’s happened in her day in excruciating detail. Inner turmoil raged, however the shame and guilt won out knowing it would make her evening if she could chat away to him on the phone. A swift hit of the accept button quickly followed.
“Heya mum” he mustered in the most cheerful manner he could. Patrick knew that if she even had the slightest thought that he wasn’t well, she would never let it go and insist on bringing him dinner over the weekend.
“Hello Patty love. Delighted I got you this evening. I tried to give you a call earlier but it just went to voicemail.”
He groaned internally at the childhood name she always called him.
“Sorry mum, busy day you know how it is. I’m just driving home at the moment. Are you all good? What are you up to this evening?”
“Oh you wouldn’t believe it. Ethel passed away. Do you remember Ethel? Passed away on Tuesday. Terrible stuff, she was only 86 but the doctor has said she was as fit as a fiddle…”
Patrick zoned her out as his brow furrowed. Who was Ethel again? Was that his Mum’s Aunt in law? Or her cousin? Oh actually, was Ethel actually just her older neighbour that Mum would often drop food into to make sure she was still eating.
“… and then to make it even worse, the dog needs to be put down as well!”
“The dog?! What’s wrong with Rocky? Did you take him to the vet?” interrupted Patrick as he was shocked from his thoughts at the idea of his family pet being put down.
“No, not Rocky, Ethels dog! Apparently it bit the person that came to check on Ethel when they found her, and the police say it needs to be put down. The family are devastated but I think her good for nothing brother is secretly happy considering they were afraid she was going to leave her estate to the dog…”
Patrick groaned again. He needed to get off this topic quick otherwise he’d find himself volunteered to help clean Ethel’s home which was one of the last things he’d like to do on the weekend.
“God that awful Mum. You said she was fit as a fiddle, what happened? It just shows how important it is to take care of your health, are you still attending your training classes?”
“Drowned in her bed apparently. Awful way to go. I saw on the social medias it’s happening a lot more due to people replacing their lightbulbs with those smart LED lights…”
Patrick raised a hand as if to try cut her off as she was speaking, but then the realisation of what was said sunk in.
“… and now they are saying we should be stripping out all the LED lights and going back to the old filament bulbs that I always told your father we should keep..”
“Mum, mum, mum” Patrick said cutting her off “Did you say she drowned, in her bed, due to LED lights?”
“Awful way to go, just shows you can be cut down in your prime no matter what shape you are in. Are you taking care of yourself Patty? I told you that you need to eat better, I think it’d be great if you could fit into that old suit jacket for Christmas dinner, you always looked great in it, not that you don’t look great now so don’t take any offence…”
Slight offence was taken. He looked down at himself and felt slightly hurt. It wasn’t that he wasn’t in good shape. Could he be in better shape? Probably. He wasn’t a heavy guy, probably 25-30 pounds too heavy. He was always told he wore the weight pretty well, and even back in his sport days he held a stocky build. Currently he was broad shouldered, but with a bit of a gut
“… and you know your dad got diabetes when he was only 40 so it’s genetic and you have to keep an eye out. Have you gotten your yearly check at the Doctor?"
Another inward groan. Ever since his dad passed away from a heart attack at only 60, he has been hassled to get a yearly check up. Before he had the chance to respond, she followed up
“Oh I need to go, Sarah is knocking on the door. Her daughter is recently single actually and you always crushed on her when you were young. I’ll tell her you were asking for her, Gotta run love you bye bye bye bye..”
The call ended without the opportunity for Patrick to respond. He drove another moment in stunned silence. Sarah’s daughter, Aoife? He did have a crush on her when he was younger, when he was 6. Aoife and himself hadn’t even seen each other in years, she probably wouldn’t even remember him. God forbid when he goes over to his mums for dinner on Sunday what she will tell him in regard to what she told Sarah. A slight sweat broke as he considered the possibility and likelihood that his mum would invite both of them over for dinner on Sunday. Another groan, yet he gave himself the pleasure of making this one audible.
A glance at the clock showed that he was running late. The plan for that Friday night was to meet a couple of his friends at the local pub at 7pm. It was already 7.20pm, and with another 20 minutes remaining on the journey, he would be at the mercy of his friends. It was meant to be a quiet night with a few drinks, which wouldn’t turn out that way if he was on the receiving end of jabs from his friends. Keeping one eye on the road, he grabbed for his phone to send a quick text to let them know he was running late. Patrick pulled the phone out of his pocket, and went to flip it to allow him to unlock it via faceID, yet due to sweaty hands, or divine intervention, the phone slipped through his fingers to land on the floor of the passenger seat side.
His fingers gripped the wheel tighter. It was just turning into one of those days. Patrick took a breath, trying to steady himself in a vain attempt to calm himself down.
“Siri, call Dom” he called out hoping his phone would pick up the sound.
[Sure, calling Mom] replied the phone cheerfully over the sound system, as Patrick frantically began hitting the end call button on the wheel. Once he knew the call was ended, he tried again pronouncing each word as clearly as his Irish accent would allow.
“Siri, call DOM”
[I’ve set an alarm for one hour from now]
Patrick’s eyes bulged. That wasn’t even close to what he said! It wasn’t worth it, he would just wait another moment until he hit a red light and he would just grab his phone.
His patience was rewarded only a few moments later as a light turned red as he rolled up to it. Reaching down, he cast his hand around trying to find his phone on the passenger side floor. He thought he felt it one moment, only to knock it slightly further under the seat. Letting out a slew of curses, he kept trying to grab it as a car somewhere behind him began beeping at him. Giving up on the phone, he sat back up raising his hand in apology to the car behind him and moved through the lights.
It's funny. Once you realise a mistake has been made it’s like time almost slows down. Patrick moved through the lights but almost as soon as he had, he realised a few things.
The car hadn’t been beeping at him.
He didn’t have a green light to go.
An SUV was about to collide with the driver side door.
He probably wasn’t going to make drinks this evening.
The world went black.
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Everything was black. Everything hurt. It felt like he had gotten hit by a car. Why couldn’t he move?
Patrick tried to move but found he was constrained on all sides. Why couldn’t he move?
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The car! He had just been hit by a car. He was trapped in the wreckage. A quick look around didn’t give him anything, it was all dark. He must be upside down, on the side of the road. Faint muffling and voices could be heard outside. It wasn’t clear what they were saying but it sounded heightened, and they seemed to be moving toward him.
Patrick tried to call out, but even that act caused a searing pain to run through his head which silenced him pretty quick. The loudest he could go was a whisper and even that was a challenge. Thoughts frantically ran through his mind. They needed to get him out quick. He might be injured. The car might explode, that’s a real thing that happens with crashed cars he was pretty sure.
The voices came closer, definitely coming towards him.
Patrick tried again. A whisper.
They needed to know where he was.
A memory came to him. When trapped in rubble or wreckage, it was better to make rhythmic sounds by banging on something instead of trying to call out. Patrick began trying to kick his foot against the bottom of whatever he was trapped in.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The sound was muffled and didn’t seem to be travelling very far. It was better than the whisper.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The voices went silent.
No, no no, he thought. I’m here. I’m here!
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The kicking got more frantic. He had to remain calm, but it was just so damn hard. What if he needed to preserve oxygen? Was he at risk of suffocation?
He couldn’t hear the voices anymore. Desperation began welling up. He needed to get out. He needed fresh air. He needed to get out. He needed fresh air.
“I’M IN HERE” he managed to bellow.
Sounds began again outside, not voices but the sounds of something being moved. Thank god, they knew he was here. Scraping noises filled the prison Patrick was in. The Jaws of Life! It must be the firefighters using it to get him out.
“THANK YOU PLEASE I’M HERE” he called out again, the pain lancing through his head.
The noises grew louder, he could feel the vibration of something grating against something else. Dust fell down on Patricks face as the top of whatever he was contained in began to shift.
It was either laughing or crying, he wasn’t sure which one he was closer to but he was ok. Patrick had forgotten about the Friday drinks, forgotten about being set up with Aoife, forgotten about the report he had spent the whole day slaving away over.
Light. The ceiling above him shifted and moved away. Patrick had to raise his hand to cover his eyes as a bright light caused him to flinch. He could see figures moving, though they were blurred from being blinded by the light. He didn’t even see the tip of the sword that had been tucked down under his chin, until he went to try sit up and felt something prick his neck.
His eyes focused on the three figures he could see.
The one holding the sword. A handsome looking man in his late twenties.
A woman behind him pointing a bow at him with an arrow knocked.
The largest man he had ever seen, that was… green?
He had just been hit by a car. He was definitely concussed. Patrick felt his vision begin to fade as he struggled to take this one in.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in our dungeon?” the man holding the sword asked.
A dungeon? This was just a little too much Patrick thought as darkness swept him up again and everything faded.
----------------------------------------
Consciousness came slower this time, it seemed to slowly creep back rather than bolting awake previously. Patrick woke, and kept his eyes closed. He was listening out for the bizarre group of people he had just seen. A part of him was still convinced it was a dream, a result of a knock to the head from the car that hit him, but that notion was rapidly thrown out as he heard heated arguments coming from the far side of the room.
“I’m telling you again Marius, we do not have the time or the capacity to take him. We have less than 20 minutes left in this dungeon, and we don’t even know if we’re close to the boss room. He’ll slow us down, if he’s even a real person, and not some weird mechanic of this dungeon to slow us down” spoke a woman.
Patrick put the voice to the woman he had seen pointing the bow at him. His brow furrowed as he tried to recall her specifically. Was he remembering correctly, or had she had pointed ears?
“Svenja, we can’t leave an innocent person behind in this dungeon. It’s uncharted, and we have no idea how long it’ll take for another group to find it, or any help to get back here. If he’s real, we can’t leave him to die, you know that.”
That voice sounded like the man who had spoken to him, who had held the sword to him. Instinctively Patrick almost raised his hand to his neck where the sword had pricked him, but stopped at the last moment when he remembered he was pretending to still be unconscious.
“Then at least try explain how he’s here. This is an uncharted dungeon Marius. We’re the first ones here. We got the Quest for being the first to discover and complete it. He’s obviously part of the dungeon. He’s probably here to slow us down so we run out of time. Grunt, Ulman, you have to back me up here?
A deep grunt reverberated through the room, followed by a second voice.
“I wouldn’t have put it as elegantly as Grunt, but he is correct. Our oaths to the Guild do require us to help the innocent ahead of personal gain. Allow me a proposal. Should this man be a part of the dungeon he shall either be mechanical or arcane in construction, which I should be able to divine within a moment.”
Marius’ voice came through again “Alright Ulman, if you think it’ll only take a moment. The undead are up against the door, and Grunt has gone from sitting against the door, to holding it closed.”
Wait, what? Undead?
Patrick heard soft footsteps approaching him, and the rustling of robes as someone crouched down beside him.
“It appears the man is still unconscious, which will make this more difficult. Svenja darling, hand me your knife, it will just be easier to remove a finger and examine it that way.”
Patrick’s eyes shot open as he sat up and began back peddling away from the man while raising his hands. It was his first look at this fourth individual, and for a moment was stunned by what he saw. The man looked unwell. His skin was grey, like the colour of ash. He was gaunt, with bloodshot red eyes, and more pointed ears? Something rang dimly in the back of Patrick’s mind as a term struggled to come to the front.
“Look, look, look you don’t need to do that, I’m awake. Please you have to listen to me, I don’t know where I am or what’s going on, but I’m not part of this ‘dungeon’, and I’m not a mechanic, I can’t even bleed a radiator let alone fix a car.”
It was Patrick’s first chance to have a look around the room he was in. It seemed to almost resemble a crypt, with the walls lined with sarcophaguses. Tall pillars lined the room, covered in musty and ragged tapestry. The room seemed to only have one door, that was casually being lent against by the gigantic green man, as dull thuds could be heard on the far side.
It was also his first chance to have a look at the other members of the group. The man he know knew the name of was Marius was grinning looking at him. He was tall, probably just under 6 and a half feet tall. Messy brown hair, slightly crooked nose, and pearly white teeth that it felt like he was trying to show off. He was wearing polished armour, with different coloured looped ribbons intertwined with a band going across his chest.
Svenja, on the other hand was not grinning but actively scowling towards Patrick. She was about Patricks height, but athletic and lithe in what looked like hunting leathers. She had striking features, and blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through Patrick, and after just a moment of eye contact, Patrick turned away blushing. Yep, she definitely had pointed ears.
The man, if it was even a man leaning against the door was simply huge. This must be the person they called Grunt, and the only comparison that kept springing to mind for Patrick was ‘The Hulk’ from some of the comics he read when he was younger.
His eyes finally turned back to the last member, who must have been Ulman, who raised his hands chuckling.
“Fear not my fine fellow. I knew you were awake, I just felt it was easier to go this route and get you up right away, rather than go through the whole rigmarole of you pretending to slowly wake up. We are on a bit of a schedule.”
Ulman muttered something under his breath, and an eery light filled the room that didn’t seem to cast shadows causing Patrick to flinch.
“Fret not, it’s a simple detect magic cantrip. Now, I need you to tell me your mother’s maiden name, what you first earned experience from, the Domain that endorsed your birth certificate, the current King of Tyril, and the magical symbol you can see on this piece of paper” continued Ulman as he raised a piece of paper with a symbol on it.
Ulman waited patiently as Patricks mouth opened and closed a few times.
“I don’t know what half those things are. Clarke was my mother’s name. I don’t know what you mean by the others. Experience? Like my first job growing up? I was a cashier at a petrol station. I don’t know who signed off my birth certificate... It was the church, I think? We don’t actually recognise the King in Irelan..”
Ulman shushed him, and tapped his finger against the piece of paper.
“It looks like a horseshoe with two lines going through it, like a sideways U that someone has dashed twice”
Ulman sighed.
“I regret to inform you, my dear party, this man is quite real but may be an idiot. Detect magic has provided nothing, so he is not arcane of creation, and he passed the automaton test by being able to see the symbol. I fear otherwise he babbles potentially due to a traumatic injury when you caused him to faint Marius.”
A flash of anger shot through Patrick, and a response was on his lips before he was cut off by Marius.
“Appreciate it Ulman. Alright squad – we’re now on carry duty. Follow Encumbered Protocol to finish this dungeon. Pretend its Trapper who’s down and cover accordingly.” Marius ordered, and the party began moving, with Svenja a split second behind as she spat on the ground as she looked at Patrick.
“Plan is easy. We do Blow Out, followed by Deep Strike and Bags Full, and we adjust accordingly once we get to the boss room. No detours for treasure. We have less than 20 minutes before we lose the time bonus for the Dungeon. Sorry fellow, what was your name again?
“Patrick..” slipped from his lips as he was trying to follow what was happening.
“Padrug, perfect. Welcome to the party Padrug. Accept this and stick close to Svenja at the back.”
He didn’t even notice the mispronunciation of his name as something popped up in the corner of his vision.
[Party Invitation by Marius Kent. Do you want to accept? Yes/No]
Patrick tried to touch the yes, but it seemed to be just out of his reach. It reminded him of those virtual reality headsets with augmented reality. He tried focusing on the yes answer, and he felt something click.
[Party invitation accepted. Due to Level Disparity, reduced experience gains will be provided.]
Before he even had a chance to understand what that meant, another pop up appeared on the other side of his sight that had names, and little symbols beside them.
Party:
Marius Kent (Level 36 Knight) (Leader)
Svenja Whistleshot (Level 36 Ranger)
Grunt (Level 39 Barbarian)
Ulman Tennerus (Level 31 Possessed Evoker)
Patrick Kavanagh (Level 0)
Marius whistled.
[Quest shared: Explore the dungeon (Level 30)]
You are the first to find and explore this lost Dungeon. Navigate the perils within, and clear the Dungeon by defeating the unknown threat inside.
Dungeon Modifiers:
Horde Dungeon: The number of enemies inside is increased dramatically. Be careful of positioning lest you be overwhelmed
Timed Dungeon: You have two hours to complete the first clear of this dungeon.
Maps Disabled: Any mapping or navigation tools will be disabled inside this dungeon. Find your way or fail.
“Oooh leveless. Ok, that changes a lot and also raises a lot more questions. Let’s get them answered in a bit. We need to gear swap. Svenja, give your Life Sap bracelet to him, and make sure both of you stay within 30 feet of Grunt. Sorry Grunt, you might be taking a few more meaty hits. Ulman, give Svenja your Amulet so she doesn’t take as much pressure, and you just go on the offensive a little more.”
Marius took out a few glass bottles and threw to Ulman.
“You can pay me back for those another time, you’ll take some more heat so use what you need to do. Any questions? No? Great, let’s get ready.”
There wasn’t even the opportunity to ask questions before people got moving. Svenja marched over to Patrick taking a bracelet off her wrist. It was a beautifully braided red and gold bracelet clasped together with some blue metal.
She thrust it out to him.
“You are going to slow us down. Do not slow us down or even get in my way. I will shoot you if you get in my way, or anyone’s way for that matter.” She told him coldly.
Patrick meekly accepted the bracelet, not able to make eye contact with her.
“Put it on.”
As he slid the bracelet around his wrist and closed it, another pop up appeared.
[Item equipped. Life Sap Bracelet (Secondary). Rare. Unascended. No Aspects]
The best thing always comes in pairs. A claim that Mezino’s Emporium© will back up as much as they would about the durability of their products! This wonderful bracelet allows for a brave and daring comrade to take blows meant for the other! This will allow for 10 hits to be taken, anywhere from a slap to a cleave, and will recharge each week! Please remember that the Primary wearer will take the blows for the Secondary wearer, so identify closely. Mezino is not responsible for the death or injury of it’s clients, and by accepting use of this item, you have waived all rights to any incident caused with its use. That’s a Mezino Guarantee!
Charges remaining: 7/10. Time until recharge: 6 days 22 hours and 17 minutes.
“Stick behind me. Do what I say. Let’s go.”
His brain wasn’t working. What was happening? He turned back to the door to see Marius and Grunt on each side preparing to let it open.
“Hang on.. what are we doing?”
No answer.
“Did.. did someone say undead?”
Silence.
“I’m meant to be at the pub soon with friends”.
They weren’t listening.
Ulman had pulled out a staff, and the air itself to be forming a small cyclone localised at the top of it, as he closed his eyes concentrating.
He turned back to Svenja who had pulled her bow and knocked an arrow aiming at the door.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s going to get very noisy, and we will move quick. Stick with me. CAPTAIN, READY. OPEN THE DOOR” she called out.
Grunt removed his hand from the door, as it flew open, and a literal horde of Skeletons fell through the door as they were piling up on the far side.