A crossbow bolt lodged itself into my shoulder, punched right through the chainmail. What’s the point of armor, if it can’t stop a crossbow bolt? There were six of them. With just one of me, the math was easy — I was royally screwed.
Let me back up. Let’s get some context first. I am writing this after some time, so let me think.
So, it’s game night.
I had my physical character sheet and dice in front of me. I must have just set my big gulp down. I adjusted my trilby. Yes I know it’s cringe — and we’ll address it in a moment. We were playing a Table-Top Role Playing Game, and it was our third session of the new campaign. I was excited to really dig into a night of slaying monsters, and playing pretend.
Asher was behind his huge-ass dungeon master screen, a massive wooden triptych of a dragon that obscured him from his shoulders down. His hands kept flying over the top of it when he talked. He was a pretty good guy and ran a great game.
Most everyone else had their dice, and their sheets on their phones. I guess I liked to keep it old school.
“Hey, Zachary, what the hell is that hat, man?” Bernadette asked. She was the newest, not even out of school yet, tiny, and from Kansas City. She seemed cute in a ‘theater kid’ kind of way with her black turtlenecks and big brown eyes. I don’t know why, but she decided to sit next to me instead of Sofia, who brought her.
She turned out to be a fantastic role player though, good with character voices, and enthusiastic. Her character was an Assassin Rogue named Shade, and proved surprisingly bloodthirsty.
“It’s a trilby,” I replied, as if that explained it, and gestured to my baby blue bowling shirt. “It’s a Ska thing.”
“Is Ska still relevant?” Rachel asked with a concerned frown. She was sort of my only friend that was a girl back in the Texas town we grew up in. We hadn’t played in a long time. It was nice to have her back.
Story goes that she had to drop out of school to support her family, and we didn’t get to see her much. She worked at an auto parts place now, and refused to wear anything other than baggy clothes and a nit cap to cover her greasy pink hair.
I was finally starting to develop a style of my own, so I could use a little less judgment from her.
Her character was a Starbound Barbarian named Oriana, and the tank of the party. Rachel was a good hang.
“It’s coming back,” I said.
“Let’s hope,” Rachel shrugged.
“The man’s establishing his personal style,” Caleb said. “Let him be.”
Caleb was cool. He was an EMT, and he was dating Sofia, so I at least appreciated that he was able to get her at the table with us. The man was black, from Dallas, and sculpted like a Greek god. Most of us imagined ourselves as better looking in the game. He didn’t have to. Though I guess I was a couple inches taller, so I had that going for me at least.
We’d convinced him to roll up a Code of Justice Paladin named Caleb (yeah he was that kind of guy) and he seemed to be having a blast so far.
“Thanks Caleb,” I said.
He just winked at me. Man I wish I could pull off a playful wink.
“The hat’s bad,” Mark said.
Oh yeah. Mark was there too. I don’t know what to tell you about Mark. He played a Wizard. I think his name was Almer or something. He was just a guy I knew from work, same as Asher. He worked IT, and I worked sales.
Sofia reached across the table, ripped the hat off my head and tossed it across the room. Everyone cheered. I smiled despite myself. I could feel the red creeping in. Damn, I hated when I got flushed. My cheeks got all splotchy.
Sofia just smiled and blew me a kiss. She played a Sorceress of the Void named Inara. Despite claiming to not understand the game very well, she was really good at picking the right spell during combat.
More on Sofia later.
“Thank god that’s over,” Asher said. “Now we can play without that goddamn thing in my field of view.”
“Oh screw you, Asher.”
“I think I heard, ‘screw you, oh kind and benevolent DM,’” he replied.
I flipped him the bird.
We jumped right into the recap of last week’s game then played for a couple of hours. It was great. I usually had a hard time getting into roleplay so having Bernadette next to me was nice because she was so good. She pushed me to jump in, when I’d rather hang back. I was really more into combat, but it was fun to play make-believe too.
Oh, I played a Fighter. More on that later too.
Throughout the game, anytime Sofia spoke, I found it hard to look anywhere else. She had a smarmy way of talking, her mouth curved up on one side in a smile that showed her white teeth like she was fighting not to laugh. On anyone else, it would have been annoying. I didn’t find it annoying.
I tried not to stare at her when she wasn’t talking and I think I did a heroic job of it. I only looked at her half as much as I wanted to.
Like I said, I admired Caleb. He’s a good guy. It wasn’t his fault his girlfriend was the most beautiful woman in every room she walked in. And I’m sure he gets it.
At first break, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and cracked it open. We had a standing rule not to drink alcohol before then. Drink too much too early, and the whole game falls apart.
Sofia brushed past me to snag a bottle of wine from the fridge. She smelled like warm cookies.
How? Why? Girls, man, what the hell.
She pushed her long black hair over a shoulder and twisted the top of the wine off with fluid, mesmerizing movements.
Get it together, Zach, you asshole. You’re not here for her. It’s game night.
“I’m actually having a lot of fun,” she said, her voice like a song that made your heart go all goddamn topsy-turvy.
“Yeah, you’re doing really well. That subtle spelled suggestion on the Goblin Chief was a brilliant play.”
I took a sip of beer. I hoped it would get me to chill the hell out.
“Well, yeah that stuff’s easy,” she said. “I’m not sure I get the ‘roleplay’ part though. Not like Bernie.”
“Yeah, well, nobody is as good as Bernie.”
Sofia shrugged and took a swig right from the bottle.
“How come you never invited me to play back in high school?”
“I— ah, I didn’t think you’d say yes. This kind of game wasn’t really cool in high school. You think you’d have actually gone for it?”
“Probably not. But you’ll never know either way, huh?”
Caleb walked in. She offered him the bottle. He took it, gave her a kiss, and made a small sip.
“Easy on the wine there,” she said to Caleb, eyes shining with affection.
“I just had a sip.”
“You know white wine gets you white girl wasted.”
“I just had a sip,” he repeated, kissing her on the cheek. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other in high school,” he stated, turning to me, seemingly a little embarrassed at the PDA.
“Yeah,” I said. “We were sort of in the same circles.”
“‘Same circles,’” Sofia laughed, “we both made State Choir, but he was too chicken to talk to me.”
“Hey,” I said. “I talked to you plenty.”
“Mhmm.”
“Alright,” Caleb said with a shrug.
Mark walked in and spoke.
“Asher says it’s time.”
“Thanks Mark,” I said.
On my way back to the table, Rachel hooked my elbow and pulled me into the pantry.
“Hey,” I said.
“Yeah, hey, listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“Yeah, you’re being creepy around Sofia.”
“No, I’m not?”
“Hey, look,” she gestured to herself, “certified girl here. You’re being gross. She’s probably the coolest addition to our game night, and I don’t want you to scare her off.”
“How would I do that?”
Rachel pantomimed resting her chin on her hand and gazing forlornly.
“I don’t do that,” I said more defensively than I’d like.
“You’re also not letting her make her own mistakes. That’s part of the fun.”
“Right.”
“Get it together.”
“Right,” I said, trying to sound serious. I didn’t want to scare Sofia away. And I didn’t want to disappoint my friend. “Got it.”
“Good,” she said, rolling her eyes and walking out of the pantry.
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I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, exhaled, then followed.
When I got back, Asher was just setting down a strange book.
Look, you can probably see where this is going. Asher found a book in his attic from a previous tenant. It had a strange incantation in it. He reads from it. Lightning, thunder, swirling blue mist.
Blah blah blah, magic freaking portal opens up.
Here is the really wild thing. Sofia takes one look at that portal and says:
“What, you’re gonna make me go first?”
Then she just gets up and runs through it, black and purple sundress fluttering behind her. Poof. Gone.
The door was still there. We all looked at each other in stunned silence.
The blue door hovered in space, crackling quietly with eldritch electricity.
Caleb stood.
“Should I?” His voice trailed off as he looked at the mystical door. “Is this some kind of trick?” he looked to Asher.
Asher shook his head, his eyes wild.
Caleb walked up to the door, said ‘what the hell’ and stuck his arm in. Something behind it, or more likely the door itself, grabbed him and pulled him in.
Rachel stood from her seat and rushed to look behind the door.
“Yeah it sure does look like a magic freaking portal.”
Nobody talked. I worked my jaw and tried to get my brain to process what was happening, but I just sat in my spot like an idiot.
Rachel walked around to the front of the door but didn’t walk through yet.
Mark stood, brushed past her, and fell into the door, plopping into nothingness. Rachel shook her head, made a couple hesitant movements, and leapt after him.
Asher looked at me. I looked at Bernadette. Bernadette shrugged.
“Asher,” I finally said, “I know your family doesn’t have ‘cgi a magic door in your house’ kind of money, but did you happen to win the lottery lately?”
“No,” he said.
“Well, damn. What’s that then?”
Bernadette stood and grabbed my hand.
“We got to go after her, yeah?”
I shrugged. She pulled me standing. I was damn near a foot taller than her. If I wanted to stay here, there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
But I also didn’t want to look like I was scared, so I grabbed my character sheet, and I followed her.
We ran through the portal together.
Blue emptiness stretched out in front of us as we tumbled through the portal. I tried to keep a good grasp of her hand. No wind, no sound, just the sensation of tumbling and of great forces working on us, trying to pull us apart.
Then I noticed her clothes. They were much like the clothes she’d been wearing but now all medieval-ified. Instead of a thin black turtleneck, she had a kind of leather coat held together with straps and buckles. On her leg were strapped several braces of knives.
I looked down at myself and saw a baby blue tabard over chainmail.
We started to spin. Bernadette laughed wordlessly. I grabbed her hand with my other hand but it was too much. We spun apart and I tumbled off into the blue void without her.
Then, suddenly, it was all over.
I was on my stomach in the middle of a dirt road.
I pushed myself up just enough to look around. Simple dirt road, forest of evergreens, clear blue sky. I could be anywhere.
In front of me was a longsword stuck in the dirt point first next to a wooden shield. Beside me was a strange belt with large pouches. I sat up. I grabbed the belt and buckled it around my baby blue tabard.
The tabard was the exact same color as my shirt had been. Odd for sure.
The chainmail was heavy. Made standing awkward, but I managed it.
I grabbed the shield first. Inside the shield was a series of metal rings I guessed was for the sword. It had a long strap. I put the sword in the shield, and swung the strap on my back.
I started walking.
It is remarkable the things you will come to accept when the evidence can be touched and smelled—experienced. I knew that this was all crazy and that I shouldn’t accept it as reality, but the shield on my back felt solid. The dirt on the road dusted up exactly the way dirt should.
I could smell the evergreens caught on the wind. The heat beat down from the sun. I began to sweat.
This was my life now. Once, I was playing a game with my friends, and now I was walking on a dirt road in some kind of ren-faire, live action role play bullshit.
I could stop and scream at my situation — that it wasn’t real. But that didn’t make me any less lost. That didn’t make the feeling of the chainmail on my shoulders any less real.
So, I walked.
After some time, I got hungry. I sat down on a fallen log next to the road and dug through my pack. It wasn’t exactly the items I had on my character sheet, but it was close:
The belt had a small knife in a sheath, and a waterskin. Next to that was a scroll case.
One pouch had flint and tinder, plus a ball of string. The next had several candles and a taper. Two pouches were filled with rations — mostly hardtack, cheese, and dried fruit. The last pouch with anything in it was a strange crystal slate a little bigger than my hand.
I unplugged the waterskin and drank. It was warm, but what I needed. I ate some of the cheese and fruit, but left the hardtack alone.
Hunger satisfied, I turned around and pissed into the bush. I watched the branches dance in the wind. If there was any doubt whether this was real or not, the piss made it clear. Nobody dreamed about pissing in a bush.
The crystal slate I had put on the log next to me. I opened the scroll case and found a fancy version of my character sheet. I nodded like this made sense.
The crystal slate lit up. The letters ‘DM’ and the number ‘3’ were in a box very much like a text notification. I swiped the notification and the screen flashed to life.
DM: Welcome to the world beyond the Blue Door — Vesperalis!
DM: I am your DM, and guide to this world. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to message this chat!
DM: You also have access to a digital character sheet, a map, and a quest log from this slate. Other features are forthcoming.
This was interesting. When I ran through the door, I had had my smart phone in my pocket. The rules of this new place didn’t make sense yet, but maybe the smartphone became this thing in the same way my clothes became armor?
I texted this ‘DM’ back.
Beznik: Is this Asher?
I immediately got a response.
DM: No
“Hmm,” I said to nobody in particular, and set the slate face down.
My hands went to the physical character sheet in the tube, and I slid it out to give it a glance. The most important information was my ability score stat line. The abbreviations were pretty self explanatory. Next to the score was its appropriate modifier in parentheses.
Beznik of the Red Hand the level 2 human Fighter
Hit Points 19, Armor Class 18 (chainmail, shield)
STR 11 (+0) DEX 9 (-1) CON 13 (+1)
INT 13 (+1) WIS 10 (+0) CHA 14 (+2)
Items: Adventurers’ Kit (used), Chainmail, Longsword, Shield
Abilities from Fighter: Adrenaline Rush (170% time dilation, double movement speed) and Second Chance (Twice per day heal +25% HP)
Skills: History, Persuasion, Social Drinking
Most of the page was blank. Apparently, I was a human now, not a Dwarf. Made sense. But the stat line was wrong. It was much worse than what I had picked a couple weeks ago.
I put my character sheet back in the tube, and picked up the slate.
There was an icon like a scroll — I figured that was my character sheet — an icon like a map that seemed self explanatory, an icon like with a quill and inkwell that i guessed was the quest log, and an icon like an envelope with a red ‘2’ next to it, that I guessed was my messages.
My finger tapped the messages before I could stop myself.
There were three message groups. One that was simply named ‘DM’ that I had already read. One named ‘The Adventuring Party’ with the number ‘6’ next to it, and a last one that was named ‘Saviors of the World I Guess’ with the number ‘11’ next to it. I clicked on the one with less unread messages. As soon as I read it my pulse quickened.
“The Adventuring Party”
DM: Please use this chat for party messages!
Inara: Is anyone there?
Inara: I’m not sure we should trust this new DM
Inara: Wow this world is amazing! The people here are fascinating
60 years ago
read
DM: please do not make any new chat threads. This is the official chat thread of the adventuring party.
59 years ago
read
Inara: I am so alone
50 years ago
read
Inara — that was Sofia’s character. Sixty years ago. The messages said that she got here sixty years ago. No way that was right. Must be some mistake. She couldn’t have been here, alone, fighting god knows what by herself for sixty years.
I quickly clicked the last message group.
“Saviors of the World I Guess”
Caleb: I don’t trust this DM
Caleb: So I made a new chat thread for us
30 years ago
Caleb: I can’t find Sofia
29 years ago
Caleb: Man this world is fucked up
Caleb: I got to do something about it
25 years ago
Ailmer: hey Caleb
Caleb: Well met, Mark. You have a lot to catch up on.
Caleb: Sending an update directly
10 Years ago
Oriana: Aw hell. Are those time stamps right?
Ailmer: They are. Sending you a message
5 years ago
Shade: Well, shit
1 week ago
I was suddenly furious. It was one thing to accept that I was in a new world with new clothes and a sword. It was something else to think that my friends had gotten here five years — twenty five years ahead of me. That made no goddamn sense. I started typing before I could think to stop myself.
Beznik: This can’t be right.
I got a response immediately.
Shade: it is
Beznik: is Sofia in this chat?
Ailmer: Caleb added her when he made this group
Beznik: Good. Do you know where she is?
Ailmer: No
Oriana: We have bigger problems right now
Beznik: the fuck we do
1 min ago
My hands shoved the slate in one of the pouches before I could text anything else. I made sure that all the rest of the stuff was secure, then marched down the road.
I had no idea what to do next, but I wasn’t gonna sit here and listen to that shit. I was gonna find Sofia.
Something rumbled in my pouch. I stopped, and looked in the pouch with my slate. It glowed. I ignored it, and continued marching. The pouch rumbled again.
“Jesus,” I spat.
I stopped and pulled out the slate. Two messages from Bernedette.
Shade: stop walking
Shade: you idiot, you’re about to run into a band of goblins
I shoved the slate back in my pouch and looked up.
Six little green men stood about twenty paces down the road. One of them raised a curious item, almost like a gun.
A crossbow bolt lodged itself into my shoulder.