Coach Beardenbeard’s apartment and everything in it vanished under their feet as they were pulled into the portal of the shield. After a brief moment of blackness and weightlessness, the ground beneath their feet became bare rock. There wasn’t a single green thing growing in sight. The sky was full of a thick, sickly yellow haze and a river of molten magma flowed about a mile away. Dark shapes soared far overhead, too big to be more of those imps. The tiny fiends who had shoved them into the portal were likely still in Coach Beardenbeard’s apartment wreaking all sorts of havoc with no one to stop them.
Innumerable human or humanoid bodies in various states of decay were impaled on spikes that were lined up in such a way as to make a morbid but rudimentary path. The malevolent road led towards a distant mountain where lightning crackled overhead.
“Where are we?” Beacon asked. He covered his nose to keep from breathing in the stench of burning sulfur that spewed from a deep crack in the ground.
“Hell. Weren’t you listening?” Nirlid said.
Berik whistled in wonder. “I wonder how much this runs a month.”
Beacon gave him an incredulous look.
“What? You have so much room here! And you get your very own lava river,” Berik said. “I’d have killed to get such a fixer-upper.”
“Why does our coach have a portal to Hell in his room?” Nirlid asked.
“Maybe it’s another adventure he was planning?” Beacon suggested. She pointed at the distant mountain. “Which means we’re probably supposed to go that way.”
“I do not want to go that way,” Euclid stated.
A noxiously warm breeze blew over the party. Everyone coughed and hacked, struggling for air to breathe. After a moment, the fit passed though the whole party had to wipe tears from their eyes afterward. Something tickled in Berik’s head, something sensitive and primal, but he ignored it. Instead, he turned toward the [Mage].
“C’mon Eukey.” Berik felt himself grinning. Why was he feeling so aggressive? So angry? Hell was not the place to start turning on party members. He knew it, but he couldn’t help but give in to the part of himself that just wanted to be an asshole. “It’s not that scary. We’re just getting a surprise sneak-peek at a future adventure! Stop being a coward and man up.”
The [Mage] narrowed his eyes at the [Fighter]. “Never call me that again.”
“What, Beacon can use that name but I can’t?” Berik asked.
“I do not like it when even she calls me that. I just tolerate it coming from her,” Euclid said.
“You know, I’ve about had it with you. You wanna threaten me by talking right into my head?” Berik poked the gaunt man in the chest. “That’s such a shitty thing to do. You talk a mean talk, but I’m not scared of you. If you’re gonna do something, do it already! Or do I have to “allow Beacon to perish in this joke of a team” to get you to actually do anything?”
“Berik, you need to calm yourself,” Nirlid said. “This place is enhancing your negative emotions. You must steel your mind against its influence.”
“I’m done talking to you, too, Nirlid. You’re just a lazy squatter. Go back home to your mommy.” Berik rolled his eyes and waved his hand, gesturing for him to go away.
“Your juvenile tirade is helping nothing,” Euclid said.
Berik turned back to the [Mage]. “Just admit it, you creepy bastard. You call yourself human, but your mask has been slipping from Day 1. Let me see your character sheet so we can be sure once and for all.”
Beacon’s fist slammed into his face. He staggered backwards but retained his footing. He had been in too many street fights to be knocked out in one punch though blood ran freely down his smashed nose. He wiped his face and grimaced at her. “I’ve never hit a girl before but there’s always a first time for everything.”
The ranger smirked. “And to think, you asked me out earlier today.”
Berik opened his mouth to reply but Beacon was upon him with a barrage of blows. She had seemingly forgotten the short sword at her side. The [Fighter], though bloody and bruised, shrugged off her assault and slammed into her with his shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground.
“Enough of this!” Euclid shouted and raised his hand toward Berik. Suddenly, the [Fighter] was in the air, thrashing against invisible hands that lifted him off the ground. He kicked his legs but they were no help.
But Beacon, still overcome with fury, remembered her bow. She nocked an arrow and prepared to shoot Berik as he flailed uselessly in the air.
“Mr. Nirlid, would you grab her?” Euclid asked. Though he had not been struck, blood began to run from his left eye. He tried to blink it out of the way but it still flowed.
“He better not grab me,” Beacon shouted. Her bow went from pointing at Nirlid to Berik and then back again.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“Mr. Nirlid!” Euclid shouted again. But he saw the sea elf’s face twist into a furious snarl and the [Mage] knew it was too late.
“Tch. Nice disguise, monster. But not good enough!” Nirlid leaped into a flying kick. Euclid went skidding across the jagged ground and stopped ten yards away. The impact broke his concentration on the spell and Berik fell to the ground with a clunking thud. The [Fighter] wasted no time in recovery. Berik leaped to his feet and tackled Beacon before she could send an arrow into his throat.
Nirlid sprinted to Euclid, intent on finishing the fight. The [Mage] wavered to his feet and held out his hand for another spell but the monk was too fast. His fists were like lightning as he pummeled the man back into the ground. Nirlid thought the brawl was over but a pulse of intense violet energy from Euclid repelled him. Nirlid was cast backwards as the [Mage] tried to climb to his feet.
None of the combatants noticed the squat figure rushing their way. “Enough!” he bellowed as he plowed into the party.
Clad head to toe in spiky metal armor, the challenger lowered his head and barrelled right into Berik. The [Fighter] flew off of Beacon, the wind knocked out of him. The new combatant changed the direction of his momentum on a dime and dashed toward Euclid and Nirlid. Spiky fists flew everywhere and both party members fell to the ground.
“Have y’all had enough?” the short armored foe demanded. “Or do I need to belt ya some more?”
“C…Coach?” Berik asked.
“Coach?” Nirlid tried to stand but was so dazed from the assault that he had to sit down.
“No way! Coach!” Beacon wiped blood from her chin.
Euclid shakily climbed to his feet. “Coach,” he said around a mouthful of blood.
Coach Beardenbeard took off his ridiculously dangerous helmet and gestured for them to gather around him.. “All a you, huddle up!”
Once they were all in position, his trademark smile returned.
“I’mma be honest. We happen to be in Hell right now. And by that, I mean a little pocket dimension sort of Hell. A Hell dungeon, if you will. It’s full of fire and brimstone and those daggum little annoying imps. I’m sure you can guess how y’all got here. It was from that scary-looking shield I had in my apartment. I brought that ol thing with me, knowin full well what it was, but I planned on usin it for a later practice. Much later. Because, and Nirly-bird had it right, this place exudes violence and hate and all those negative emotions, twistin up the minds of mortals who step inside.”
Nirlid looked pleased with himself but never stopped eyeing Euclid.
“But what I didn’t expect was to be waylaid by some imps who randomly spawned and were intent on draggin me back to their hell realm. I’m glad I was able to get word out to y’all before I was snatched up. And I’m real glad you answered. I’m not happy with how quick you fell into a blood-frenzied free-for-all, but you guys are only Level 1. You ain’t ready for this. What this means is that I, as a coach, need to be focusin more on buildin you up as a party rather than your individual strengths. Because I know you can be better than this. And it’s my job to make sure you know, too.”
The four adventurers stared at him, wordlessly.
“Any questions?” Coach Beardenbeard asked.
They all asked their questions at the same time, but Berik was the loudest. “Coach, how do we get out of here?”
“Glad you asked. All we gotta do is go up that mountain over yonder and fight the monster there,” Beardenbeard said. “Easy enough. Next question.”
“What’s with the spiky armor?” Beacon asked.
“Glad you asked that, too. Back in my day, I used to be a [Fighter] in my own party, back before the Dungeon League became viewable to the public. I’m what the dwarves call a berserker. You can guess what they do,” Beardenbeard said. “Next question.”
There was only the sound of Euclid spitting out a thick gob of blood.
“Right. Then if we know what our quest is, let’s move out!” Coach Beardenbeard said.
The party gathered around their coach and looked at the mountain so very far away. The huge winged creatures in the sky still soared around its peaks. Fire erupted from the distant magma river. The trail of impaled bodies looked endless.
“Exactly what level did you want us at before you sent us here?” Berik asked.
Coach Beardenbeard clapped him on the back. “Levels are just numbers, Ber-Ber. C’mon. Show some spirit! We got this.”
They began their long trek and tried not to look too hard at the oppressive landscape or the desiccated bodies that lined their path. Luckily, Coach was in a garrulous mood and tried to keep things light.
“Now, here’s the tricky part. I know what the monster at the mountaintop is,” he said. “And I hope that don’t spoil the fun but we gotta talk strategy. I don’t want a TPK!”
The jolly laugh that came from the dwarf didn’t match his vicious exterior.
“Um, Coach? Quick question. What’s a TPK?” Beacon asked.
Beardenbeard’s smile faltered for just a second but then it was back in full force. “Whoops. Haha, didn’t mean to say that. Well, Beacon, that would stand for Total Party Kill. And don’t let it scare you none. That’s an old term, used back when the Dungeon League was only a sport put on for the wealthy patrons and noblemen of the kingdom. Now there are safety regulations so the chance of a TPK has been reduced drastically.”
“Because of the dungeoneers that will teleport adventurers out of the dungeon if they get too hurt,” Euclid stated in a deadpan voice.
“Exactly!” Coach Beardenbeard beamed. “I knew you were a smarty-pants!”
The [Mage] ignored the compliment. “And how many dungeoneers are monitoring our adventure right now?”
The spike-clad dwarf gave an embarrassed grin. “Well, none. But that’s okay. You got me! And I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“What level are you, Coach?” Berik asked.
Before the dwarf could answer, Beacon pointed at the sky. “We’ve got company!”
A huge winged creature had propelled itself from the mountaintop and raced toward the party, soaring only a few feet above the ground. Right before it could fly through the adventurers, it spread its enormous bat-like wings and came to a skidding halt in front of them. It loomed over the party, easily fifteen feet tall. He had a monstrous baboon-like face with jagged, sharp fangs jutting from his jaw. Powerful arms flexed veiny muscles as he worked his sinister claws. Hairy legs ended in cloven hooves and a long, barbed tail whipped back and forth behind him.
“I am Dredmorgg!” he roared. “And you are trespassing in my home! Are you ready to die, mortals?”