The spell had gone awry. Not just awry, but really really wrong. Clearly the world was confuckled.
Robin whipped around looking for his cousin’s kid but the city street was relatively empty of people. Everything from the buildings to the clouds in the sky looked kind of flat in color and depth; like the world had once been two-dimensional but had been cheaply rendered into 3D. The bricks on the wall around the bodega window he was standing in front of looked like they had been colored by the paint bucket tool in Photoshop. No shading or texture at all. Just flatly filled in with a deep beige. In fact, most everything on the street including the pedestrians, buildings and cars were all monochromatic. Everything was colored in shades of taupe, off-white, beige and tan. At least the sky was blue, the sun yellow and the clouds white.
He reached out to touch the wall. Despite appearances it felt very wall-like. So at least things were real and not illusions - or delusions. Robin groaned as he noticed his reflection in the glass. He was dressed in that shitty mall Santa costume from last year’s crappy holiday job. At least it was just the red hat, jacket and pants and didn’t include the fat suit stuffing. The coat still had dingy, white, fluffy trim safety-pinned around the wrists, zipper and the tops of the ill-fitting black boots. There was even that kid’s puke stain still on the front. The stain that had never fully washed off. Robin was suddenly overcome with the memory of that smell.
Cars driving down the four lane street were distractingly quiet, only their tires making sound on the pavement. Was every vehicle electric? Salsa music played from inside the bodega where Robin could see a handful of people through the window filling their carry baskets with groceries. Even the people looked like they’d been lifted from a color-by-numbers book. They appeared one step fleshed out from cartoons.
“Where the fuck am I?” Robin asked of no one. “Where’s Dana?”
He checked his reflection again taking note that he was colored and shaded like normal. Was he trapped inside a video game somehow? They hadn’t even been playing a video game. He’d been hanging with his weird little cousin, Dana from Alabama, who had insisted on getting his help in doing a “magic” ritual. She had wanted to cast some sort of spell to open up communication with other dimensions. Robin was beginning to regret telling the kid he was a board gamer and fantasy book-lover and might be open to such “out-of-the-box thinking”.
Dana, a socially awkward 12-year-old, had been thoroughly convinced Robin was the perfect magical assistant since he was a “professional pretender” — Dana’s words, not his. Robin was, in fact, a capital letter ‘A’ Actor even though he’d never taken the plunge to move to LA or New York. Eking out a living in regional theater around the Rocky Mountains for three decades had kept him fed, but not much more than that.
There was that sound again. Like a text message notification but of a different pitch than anything he had his phone set to make. He patted the Santa jacket pockets looking for his phone only to find them empty. There was a wide, black leather messenger bag hanging from his belt at his left hip. What looked like a blue velvet dice pouch dangled on his right hip. He felt the pouch and it did indeed have the all-too-familiar chunky clatter of a full assortment of polyhedral game dice. Had he been dressed by a demented D&D player with a holiday fixation?
He now pinpointed the sound as coming from inside the messenger bag. Robin lifted the flap noting the soft and supple feel of the fabric. Nice material. Doesn’t seem to be real leather, but it sure looks like leather. Wonder what it is? Inside the bag was a single item. A thick piece of parchment about the size of a standard sheet of paper. It’s edges were worn and ragged-looking as if it had been well-used and then left to rest on a lost temple’s shelf for a couple hundred years. He was afraid it might tear but the material proved stiff enough not to bend to gravity but still be foldable.
Printed in some sort of phonetic English was a message:
Welcum Mistik Hyuuman!
Yoo hav ariivd in Bigbad Sitee, thu kapitul of Amérku, land of the free and home of the tasty. You’re in for a real treat… or to become one. Hope you’re hungry!
A little bit about you:
Your archetype is Entertainer. Your occupation is Mall Santa. Your age category is Seasoned which includes a starting allotment of 16 skills, 4 Basic Impediments, and 2 permanent Debilities. As a bonus for being 52 years old, you gain one additional Social Attribute card.
Contained in your bag along with this “Lessons & Rules” document are the following items:
1 Deck of Attribute Cards
1 Deck of Skill Cards
1 Basic Dagger
10 Resource Rations (2 Prayers, 2 Willpower, 2 Life Force,
2 Meat and 2 Fear)
“What in the seven fucks of fake Fanta soda is all this?”
A young couple walking down the sidewalk, each holding one of their child’s hands, gave Robin a harsh, narrow-eyed glare before pulling their offspring into the gutter in order to pass by without getting too close. Robin realized a moment later he should have apologized, but everything was too disorienting and made no sense. There’s no way Dana’s spell could have been real. Right? This place couldn’t be real. Maybe all he had to do was close his eyes and convince himself to wake up.
Robin screwed his eyes tightly shut feeling the space between his eyebrows wrinkle with the effort. Wake up. Wake Up! WAKE UP!! He waited a few more heartbeats then opened his eyes.
A little old man stood in front of him having just emerged from the bodega. The kindly-looking fellow held a grocery bag and wore a soft-looking beige cardigan. “Are you okay, son?”
Robin blinked a few times. For once, he was at a loss for words so he just shrugged.
The old man patted him gently on the forearm. “It’ll be alright. Whatever you’re going through probably feels much bigger than it actually is.” He started to shuffle away but stopped and looked back over his shoulder, “Just be careful around here. Things are getting kind of dicey in this neighborhood. Dressing like that might get you the wrong kind of attention. Just food for thought.” He smiled softly while patting his groceries.
Robin watched the man mosey down the sidewalk. A few more people walked past, two went into the bodega and a couple others exited. He had not moved from the front window of the shop. Everyone glanced at him sidelong before skirting around trying not to look obvious in their attempts at avoidance.
He looked around the street once more. Clearly this was a neighborhood inside a big city as skyscrapers could be seen in the distance over the tops of the three and four-storey buildings; mostly street level shops with offices or apartments above. Very boiler plate in design even if distractingly bland given the color scheme.
A second-storey window down the block had blue curtains billowing out into the air as if from a fan inside the room. The air on the street was still and the temperature entirely comfortable. Not hot or cold - just right. “Now I’m sounding like Goldilocks. Maybe I’ve had a psychotic snap and this is all an elaborate manifestation in my mind.”
The rippling blue curtains really did stand out being the only other thing within sight, beside himself, that was colored. Robin decided to head there and see what made it so different. Maybe he could get some answers. But if this was a delusion it would only be his own brain rationalizing the situation which likely would be of no actual help.
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He folded the weird parchment into quarters and put it back in the messenger bag. It disappeared as if having been sucked into a void. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed what just happened. Glancing back in the bag revealed it to be empty with a perfectly normal bottom. “How the hell am I supposed to get that back? I’m pretty sure it was the instruction manual. Give me the Lessons and Rules back you janky Bag of Holding!”
The folded parchment appeared in the bag looking perfectly innocent. Robin took it out and unfolded it. It still only listed the contents it claimed where in the bag. He tried swiping his finger on the printing as if it were an iPad. He’d seen kids who had grown up with nothing but digital devices do that to paper restaurant menus and be baffled at the images’ refusal to react to their gestures.
Surprisingly, the text scrolled up just like one would expect from an iPad. “This is some freaky Harry Potter shit. I better not be expected to fly a broom and smack wing dings across the sky.” The continuation of instructions read:
In order to advance you will need to improve your skills and attributes. Start by examining your Attribute deck.
Robin looked back into the empty messenger bag. “There’s no Attribute Deck in there you stupid piece of paper.” A dark wooden card case with intricate blue mystical markings etched on its surface appeared at the bottom of the bag. Robin could feel the slight bit of added weight in the satchel. He took the case out and pulled its top off revealing a set of 27 tarot-looking cards made of the same stiff-but-flexible parchment as the instruction sheet. Each card listed an attribute, kind of like in Dungeons and Dragons, but there were nine different types and each had three variations labeled with a single trait and a polyhedral dice icon:
Brawn [physical] d4{imp} • d6 • d6{dbl}
Agility [physical] d6 • d8{dbl} • d10
Endurance [physical] d4 • d6 • d8
Reasoning [mental] d6 • d8 • d8
Awareness [mental] d6 • d8 • d8
Willpower [mental] d4{imp} • d8 • d10
Presence [social] d10 • d10 • d12 • d12
Bodhi [social] d8 • d8{imp} • d12
Essence [social] d4 • d6 • d6{imp}
There were lines of little circles like fill-in bubbles on a scanTron test under each of the dice values. Robin had no idea what those were for, maybe progression or experience points? There was no way any of this actually meant anything real. It all had to be a product of his overactive imagination and too many school hours playing roleplaying games with friends instead of studying.
He pulled out the d6 Brawn card and examined the words at the bottom of it:
Permanent Physical Debility: Click Knee
Not only does your left knee make a small snapping sound on every step going up and down stairs, but it kind of hurts a lot of the time. Actions using this attribute card’s die will roll with disadvantage.
If all this turned out somehow to be real, Click Knee did not sound helpful at all. Perusing the other cards he found the same debility on the d8 Agility card. Four other cards were labeled with Impediments which seemed to be lesser variations of bad stuff and included five little fill-in bubbles under them. Maybe those could be gotten rid of over time?
The d4 Brawn Impediment was labeled as an old shoulder injury, probably reflective of having torn a ligament or something in his shoulder a few years ago in a sword fight scene in that cyberpunk stage play of King Lear. With no health insurance he had just tended it with heat and ice and continued painfully through three weeks of production. It rarely bothered him these days except on the rare occasion when he tried to do pull-ups at the gym.
The d4 Willpower Impediment only referenced dice rolls regarding drinking alcohol. Robin loved whiskey and tequila and would rarely pass up doing shots of either one. The d8 Bodhi Impediment - what the hell is Body? Bohdee? Bodhiy? - seemed to have something to do with making emotionally-viable romantic decisions and the d6 Essence Impediment implied he would suck at casting spells. No shit Sherlock! Spells are what got me into this flushing toilet swirl of a situation.
Well, if these dice values never got bigger than twelve-sided, it would seem that Robin had been assigned moderate physical and mental capabilities and pretty good social attributes. If he were being honest, they were a solid reflection of his real-life condition. In his mind he would like to think he’d rank bigger dice for reasoning and willpower and even brawn (though he was not so diligent in his gym attendance these days). He had only ever gotten middling grades in school and was certainly not in peak condition like he was as a 30-year-old model.
He put the cards away and started down the street toward the window with blue curtains. A sedan passed by that was actually red. Another vehicle, a big blue panel van drove past when he got under the curtained window. The van’s broad side was painted with what could only be described as arcane sigils. There was no english or other recognizable lettering on it at all.
Robin stood awkwardly under the window for a few minutes waiting to see if he could hear anyone up there or if someone would look out. No one did nor were there any discernible person-sounds from that second-storey room. There was, however a scream.
The womanly wail echoed from the narrow alleyway between the blue-curtain-building and its neighbor. Do I want to know what that’s all about? Seems like I shouldn’t get involved in anything this place has to offer.
As soon as he had thought that thought, the bell sound came from his messenger bag again. Time and motion slowed down freezing everything around him. Robin imagined, or at least thought there should be, a long bass drop sound effect like in movies when reality was depicted as coming to a halt around the main character. He reached in the bag and pulled out the Lessons & Rules parchment which had reappeared inside. It read:
You are facing your first Action.
Since you can’t decide whether to check out that blood-curdling scream or not, you will need to test one of your attributes to see if you follow through with the notion of walking away or give in to impulse and see what’s going on.
If you want to try to be rational about it, select one of your three Willpower cards to attempt ignoring the all-too-human realization that you should help others. Your mother will be so ashamed if you succeed and go your merry way.
If, instead, you want to feed your emotional compulsion and assist your fellow human, select one of your three Bodhi cards. If you fail your Boy Scout leader will appear and give you three demerits. Just kidding, your Boy Scout leader is in jail. He’s too busy getting drop-soaped in the showers to care about your moral quandaries.
Also, you have no applicable skills impacting this decision so you will be given the baseline three d4s in addition to your chosen attribute card die.
“How am I supposed to know which is the best choice? Are high rolls better than low rolls or is this one of those systems where small numbers are good? Maybe the dice get added together?” The parchment did not deign to show an answer. The scream issued from the alley once again and this time Robin swore he could hear an animal growl accompanying it.
He reached into the bag to see if the card box was in there. It was not. The bag was empty. “Give me those fucking tarot cards, you needy sack of faux cowhide!” He held the bag’s mouth wide open waiting to catch the moment the deck box appeared. Nothing showed up.
“Fine,” Robin sighed resigning himself to using manners when addressing all inanimate baggage from now on. “I summon my Attribute cards.” The deck box appeared silently inside the bag. He pulled it out after putting the parchment between his teeth so as to have both hands free. The card that had the biggest dice symbol on it without any impediments or debilities was the d12 Bodhi card. He held it up on display to the world around him hoping whatever esoteric intelligence was running this shindig (even if it was his own brain) would identify his selection.
Everything remained frozen. He put the deck box back in the bag and took the parchment from his mouth to look at it for further instruction. It said nothing new.
Feeling quite self-conscious and more than a little dumb Robin looked at the card as if it were a Pokemon ball. “I choose you, Bodhi d12 card.” The card made a sizzling sound and evaporated from his hand. Is it gone for ever? Do I only have these few cards for the rest of my life here?
The blue velvet pouch at his other hip felt as if it were being tugged by a small inquisitive child accompanied by the rattling sound of jostled dice. He put the parchment back in his teeth and opened the dice pouch. A bulky twelve-sided die glowed an olive green color right at the very top distinguishing itself from the other very plain taupe dice. He took it out and held it in the palm of his hand.
That sizzling sound happened again and three d4s manifested alongside the d12. They felt like they were made of heavy metal but they clattered like crystal rocks when manipulated in his palm. Not knowing what else to do with them, he tossed them onto the sidewalk watching them tumble.
Nothing earth-shattering happened when they came to a stop so he bent down to examine the results. He didn’t have his reading glasses so he prepared to squint and strain. Maybe it was a trick of the light but he swore the dice swelled slightly and the size of the numbers grew bigger as if recognizing his need for magnification.
RESULTS:
d12 = 6
d4 = 2
d4 = 3
d4 = 4
Congratulations, you have 2 successes! Your Boy Scout leader would be proud. You have convinced yourself to check into the screaming and see if you can be of assistance. Don’t worry about your Boy Scout leader, he’s getting railed and he’s liking it. Let’s hope your choice pays off positively too.
Without thinking any further about this entirely ridiculous situation, Robin strode —parchment in hand — into the alley as his rolled dice sizzled into the ether off the sidewalk. Indeed there was a woman at the far end where a drab brick wall cut off any other egress from the alley. She wore a pale tan summer dress adorned with light brown flowers. The walls of the alley were painted in streaks and splashes of bright red blood as a short, feral, half-human, half-skunk dressed in a dark purple business suit ripped its claws and long sharp teeth through the soft flesh of the woman.
She gave one last half-shriek before collapsing to the ground. Without bothering to look up, the wereSkunk started jamming handfuls of lady meat into its blood-soaked and slavering maw.